#verse three; now you see me

[bprdmyers]

@thenightmareofyourdrems​​ asked:  “ i’m not going anywhere.” ~ Jack

she had been impulsive. still reeling from a tension filled conversation-- or rather argument-- with ash following a mission. for whereas once they had been mirrors of each other, always in sync on missions, they hadn’t been since she’d requested their partnership dissolve even though it had been the last thing she truly wanted. this had marked the longest they’d ever gone without speaking to one another and their lack of an ability to seemingly work well together had nearly cost the success of the mission. by the time she had arrived back at headquarters, emotions had been at an all time high, her storming past agent sato and out of the building once she’d debriefed. georgie had wanted to be anywhere but there. wanted to be as far away from anything bprd, or with the title agent or paranormal as she could be. and so, she had formed what should have been the stupidest idea she could, in hindsight. there was only one person that she spent any decent amount of time with that met those criteria and the house would be free of parents. she also had no active assignments for that weekend. she’d sent the text before she could think about it. want to spend the weekend in new jersey? parents are away for the weekend. had she been more well-versed in well, subtext and normal social dynamics perhaps she’d have considered that a text like that could come off very differently than how she intended. however, she’s not. and so she awaits his answer as she drives toward her house, almost shocked when he responds in the affirmative. 

it’d taken time for him to get there from where ever he had been, no doubt making his excuses to the others he kept company with. she’d thought jack had mentioned not long before that danny had one more show planned before they’d part ways for a few months, let the eye come up with their next trick while they went underground for awhile. georgie and jack didn’t talk a lot about what he did with the horsemen but with the fact they often found themselves having to hide each other from either them or those georgie worked with, some things came up in conversation such as the reason jack’s hideout had switched locations again being in preparation for a new show. the time it took for him to get there served to be beneficial, since davina had to return for something she’d forgotten before being off on her way, georgie’s father having already left that morning. once jack had gotten there, the rest of the friday evening had fallen into a rather typical hang out for them, albeit, it happening inside a house rather than in a public setting and without the tension of worry that plagued them of someone finding out. sure it could be thrilling sometimes, but always being stressed just to spend time with someone, wasn’t good for anyone and them spending time together had started to become a regular thing. she’d forced him to watch the little mermaid despite their ages and his protests, compromising with letting him pick the second movie, they’d ordered a pizza, and she’d shown him to the guest room commenting that she’d have to clean it before her parents noticed it’d been used. and that’s when it had struck georgie that this was a little weird of a situation because firstly, they’d never hung out for more than a few hours at a time before, and secondly, her parents weren’t there and she’d invited a boy to spend the weekend in her house. wasn’t this what parent’s were afraid of when they went off on trips? well, that or their kid throwing a party. then again, it wasn’t as if there was anything to worry about. he was just taking over the guest room for a few days. 

it’s a few hours later, with the moon filling the sky and georgie falling into a deeper sleep which finds trouble starting. it’s something georgie had failed to consider when she’d impulsively invited him over which had been an oversight on her part. or perhaps it had simply been her belief that she could somehow control something that was out of her control. that it wouldn’t be an issue because she didn’t have night terrors every night, even if nightmares plagued her on most of them. it begins with what sounds like thuds on the floor of her room, books and pictures falling off shelves as she tosses and turns in her sleep. then comes the muttering, which for it’s part couldn’t be heard through the wall shared with the guest room next to hers. but the glass of water she had on her nightstand shattering? that’d made a decent sound. then it’d paused for a few minutes until she’d begun to let out some strange combination of a scream and a cry that’s only partly muffled by her pillow that’s now drenched in sweat. it’s not a night terror at least. she’s not moving out of her bed or trying to open her door even if she is squirming in her sheets. she’s still like that when her door gets opened, it taking the use of her name and a forceful shake to awaken her. she lashes out immediately arms flailing at whoever was there with her to push them away from her, still not registering she’s awake. though, it’s not entirely effective and it only takes her a few more seconds to realize it’s jack making her freeze, a maelstrom of emotions playing across her face. she’s thankful she hadn’t unleashed her powers on him but it’s difficult for her process much else considering her body is still shaking and her face is still wet with tears. she takes a deep yet shaky breath, embarrassment still finding it’s away past her other emotions.  

“i’m sorry for waking you, i-- i’m fine you shoul--” go. he should go, out of her room where he can’t see her like this, vulnerable and unmasked. where he can’t see the way she’ll break down further the moment the door closes behind him as the memories she always tries to force away rage back into her until she eventually pushes them back down and remains awake for the rest of the night. except, he cuts her off, stating he isn’t leaving and georgie isn’t sure what to do with that because she’s never been in this situation before. her father knows about her dreams, comforts her when he can. but no one else has ever seen her like this and a part of her doesn’t want to be alone, even if that part battles with her pride and need to seem strong in front of others. “i-- ” she doesn’t know what to say, suddenly can’t form words in the way she wants to and so she quiets, refusing to make eye-contact and bringing her knees up to her chest as if it’s some form of armor that’ll shield him from seeing that she’s still crying even if she wants to force the tears to stop. 

#thenightmareofyourdrems #this got a lot longer than expected #it's also a lot of angst #i am emotions #verse three; now you see me #v3 jack thread 003

[clemencetaught]

"Here," it's... it's just bread. It's a bun, sure large enough to still some amount of hunger, but it's just bread. And yet, María holds it in front of Patrick with the face of someone who'd consider it a criminal offense to refuse it. Nevermind that she's stolen it from one of the banquets. "Just making sure you're eating." ((RUH-ROH it's Len again~ and I promise I forgot about the Peeta bread thing until I re-read this IGNORE THAT--!! FDKLGJDLAJSGF Hope you didn't end up getting sick BUT IF YOU DID HOPE YOU'RE RESTING AND FEELING BETTER SOON 🥺)) || okay but panem is also known as the nation of bread & circuses– ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )

He doesn’t eat much in the Capitol. 

Which is ironic, seeing how most of his life before the games, Patrick was always hungry. Always trying between schooling and factory shifts to figure out when his next meal was going to come. Why else would he and Hyuk have taken out tesserae all those years ago? It was preferable, playing the odds in the Reaping to starving for the rest of the year.

Nowadays, food is the least of his concerns. Whereas there is still a dearth in District Three, there is surplus in the Capitol. No surplus isn’t the right word; a surplus would mean the Capitol keeps the extra for the future. No, there is an excess of food in the Capitol, an excess that is dumped and left to rot after the pigs have had their share, have had their fun.

When he remembers that, food in the Capitol, no matter how finely it’s been prepared, becomes disgusting. Repulsive when it is combined with the thought of the districts, his people, still starving and fighting one another for the Capitol’s ‘scraps’. One plate is enough for Patrick to feel the bile swish in his stomach and even crawl back up his throat– how is he supposed to enjoy this filth now?

(But of course the Capitol has a way of perverting everything. Who else would have invented a liquid that makes one vomit what was just digested to make room for more food?)

“You didn’t have to,” is the first set of words to come out of his mouth, however. It’s such a childish gesture on her part; as a victor, she and her family should have more than enough riches to cover for food whether she’s in the Capitol or her own district. That and it’s considered normal to take leftovers from these banquets.

And yet, she’s staring him down like they are in covenance– it’s odd…strange how the things the Capitol deem sacred, she’ll approach with the irreverence of a foreigner and yet with the most mundane of objects, like a loaf of bread, most likely one of the hundred baked today and will be replicated tomorrow, like it is worth the weight of gold. He takes a hold of María’s loot. The loaf is still warm, freshly out of the oven, he wants to believe. Like it came from one of the bakeries in say, District 12, rather than a Capitol banquet table. Does she look at the Capitol and its elaborate feasts the same way? District Eight is probably just as bad if not even worse than his own district when it comes to food shortages so maybe her thievery makes sense.

When one has gone without food for long enough, no amount of surplus is enough to satiate the insecurity. He knows that feeling all too well. His stomach growls in anticipation. “…Normally, the Capitol likes to have this with caviar.” A delicacy from District Four along with butter shipped from District Ten. He splits the loaf in two, the inside crackling and breaking into two crisp pieces. “But I think…I think it tastes just as delicious on its own.” He hands María one half while taking a bite out of the other. “Take the other half; I can’t finish it on my own.”

It tastes delicious. 

#vomit cw #not that he actually does but there is mention of it #mythvoiced #mythvoiced ( maría. ) #anger said her real name was grief ( maría. ) #the victor ( verse three. ) #the victor ( answered. ) #AND HERE I AM NOW IN THE DEPRESSO VERSE :'DDDD #not me SOBBING first over the reference to the bread.... :'D pe*eta is my darling nobody does it like him </3 #hahaha not me with this hc that... #probably the victors in the outlier districts have complicated relationships with food #just bc a lot of them probably?? suffered from food insecurity?? #and then you go to the capitol and suddenly there's an abundance..... #at the price of the districts starving... :/// #that's gotta trigger some complicated reactions in the victors especially #so in patrick's case #it's not just that he's not hungry but that seeing the excess is...repulsive to him in most cases #(aka more trauma that since he doesn't actually acknowledge ends up manifesting physically....) #BUT FOR MARÍA!!!! HE WOULD EAT FOR HER :'D HE WOULD SHARE WITH HER TOO BC THAT'S WHAT HE DOES WHEN HE GOT FOOD BACK THEN #he'd share with his loved ones :'D #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK IT WAS VERY STIMULATING TO ANSWER :DDDD (the others are on their way too <3 ) #ALSO THANK FOR UR WELL WISHES....i am feeling much better now <3 #a question of justice ( answered. )

[jeoseungsaja]

# ( hyurick, but make it black knight verse....lmao i like pain 🥲 )

@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.

what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone:

최현태 (Choi Hyun-Tae). He practically made up this name as to not blatantly put ‘The Black Knight’ in there because, well, that’d be too suspicious. It’s also funny that he was...sort of meticulous about which name to choose --- Choi was really a random last name he thought about in the spot, but ‘Hyun’ means ‘dark, mysterious’ whilst ‘Tae’ means ‘big, great’. Great mystery. 

what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

None.

what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

Default ringtone. He doesn’t bother on putting personalized ringtones anymore; nor does he have any other ringtone (except for one) that could lead to know about his preferences. 

my muse’s last text to your muse

[✉️ 10:30PM] : I have the file, let’s meet.  [✉️ 10:30PM] : Not in my office, though. There’s someone suspicious outside. I think they’re watching. [✉️ 10:30PM] : I’ll send the address over.

♔ || BONUS - PATRICK’S OLD PHONE NUMBER

what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone:

대야  (Dae-yah).

what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

SHINEE’s “Good Evening”. It’s the only personalized ringtone he hasn’t taken off. He knows it’s not going to ring, anyway 😭. 

my muse’s last text to your muse

SENT FIVE YEARS AGO: [✉️ 11:00PM] : Are you okay? Please call me when you can, Dae-yah. [✉️ 12:23AM] : Please, at least let me know that you’re doing well. Anything will do.  [✉️ 1:30AM] : I just received news about you. They’re lying, right? They must be ATTEMPT THREE YEARS AGO: [✉️ UNSENT] : They weren’t lying. I wish they were. ATTEMPT TWO MONTHS AGO: [✉️ UNSENT] : I miss you.

#ofgentleresolve #♔ || i'm in it with you (patrick | black knight au). #♔ || interaction (patrick). #♔ || interaction (myungdae). #♔ || answered. #♔ || verse three (arc two). #:D I'm fine #Narrator: Actually she's not fine #kUIWHEDIHASDHWEDH #AND I ALSO FEEL??? When it comes to the text messages to Patrick's old phone--- #That he felt something just wasn't right #Especially after the last video call they had KWHEDWEIUDH #hence why he was moderately insistent about Patrick calling him #And the last one of 'I received news about you' IS TEARING ME APART BECAUSE #I imagine him sending it while he's about to board the plane to see for himself #and even if the text doesn't reflect it much #he's FREAKING OUT with trembling hands and KASHDIUWEDHKASH #I also feel that there are more 'unsent' messages that he's tried to send #especially in the beginning stages of grieving #BUT I DON'T WANNA CRY MORE SO WE'LL LEAVE IT THERE......FOR NOW AKSHDIWUEDH #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING PAIN......I'M IN PIECES ASJDHWEUHD THIS ARC DESTROYS ME--- #I HOPE THAT EVERYTHING FEATURED HERE IS OKAY BUT IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO CHANGE ANYTHING DO LET ME KNOW PLS ;W;!!! #CARE YOU HEAPS AND PLS HAVE A FABULOUS DAY!!! #♔ || queue.

[cagesings]

i’m  finally  watching  the  scary  monster  show  are  you  proud  of  me

#the show everyone was freaking out over the summer about #(s.tran.ger th.in.gs loll) #i am three episodes in and if you see me making a verse for johanna before i finish #shut up #still VERY wary of the rpc but if you also have a verse #what if we wrote in it ... together? #*❈ ‣ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑙𝑒 — ( ooc. ) #tbd. #okay now i send memes to people

[fakezircon]

It's Done!

Three months of work from start to finish! All so I could finally present to the world:

Pocket, Minecraft Edition:

Some standard rambles and fun progress images under the cut :)

So, I started this project in early August, mostly as something I could do during downtime of a then upcoming trip.

I had seen some absolutely amazing art pieces by @royalnaym which kinda gave me the idea that minecraft rendered in pixel art has a pretty interesting while still very recognizable look. At the same time I came across @groupcritpowerdynamics 's speedrun pastel pieces and those really inspired me to try depicting my favourite game in one of my favourite mediums!

In the middle of August 6th, while in the middle of packing for my trip to the UK, I decided I wanted to do this and I wanted to have it to work on during the trip, so I loaded up minecraft and went looking for a screenshot worthy of immortalization. Unfortunately I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for so I made a brand new world and started looking around for the right vibes.

I knew I wanted a lone tree, and that if I ended up including the hot bar I wanted some hearts and food missing, so after running around for a few minutes I decided I would just do it myself and planted a sapling to serve as my centrepiece.

I gotta say I think the resemblance is striking!

And now as promised, the progress gif: mind the slight flashing, I did take these in all manner of different places including but not limited to: a plane, a handful of buses, and a small inn on the shores of England (not in that order).

It's pretty neat to me that you can see how different tones of lighting affect the perceived colour of the thread, I definitely noticed it more on this piece verses other larger stitch projects.

#orange peels #I am so extremely happy with this patch #life has been hectic these past few weeks and getting to finish a project of this scale is so rewarding #minecraft #embroidery #I do wish I had more photos of the buttonhole stitching going on but I am the one true hater of the buttonhole stitch #so I was more just in a rush to get it over with #1k

[diplomacyfcrged]

@rubiesintherough / aedus sent a meme.

“You don’t have to push so hard. It’s okay to rest.”

"It's fine --" The words escape staccato and sharp, a snap of irritation at the interruption to her work at deciphering and transcribing the most recent intel report -- and then she catches herself, lips pressing tight, a flicker of regret in her gaze as it meets his. "I'm --- I'm sorry, Aedus. I'm fine. I'll ... Look, we've got eighteen hours ahead of us where we'll be in transit to the next resistance depot, radio silent, right? I'm sure I'll catch up then, okay?" She reached for his hand, a reassuring touch. "I just want to make sure we get everything out that we can."

#IC. #ANSWERED. #PADME & AEDUS. #RUBIESINTHEROUGH #RUBIESINTHEROUGH. ( aedus. ) #VERSE. ( sw. / post pre. au. ) #i'm thinking she let the kids go to their respective homes and let everyone think she was dead #and then had an emotional breakdown or three seeing what anakin had become etc. #and is now part of the resistance where maybe she met aedus years down the line id #k but you know me

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he��ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

[finnlongman]

Dear Tumblr, I have been desperately wanting to share this news with you since May last year and now I finally can: Gollancz is publishing not one, not two, but THREE of my queer medieval retellings over the next few years! You'll have seen me posting little bits about these books in the past, but I'm so excited to get to share them with you properly.

First up in 2025: The Wolf and His King, a queer retelling of Bisclavret that uses werewolfism as a metaphor to explore chronic pain and illness. It's also very much about gay yearning, fealty, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Partially in second person and partially in verse, you can see my previous posts about it under the tag the wolf and his king or, for the really early ones, werewolves and gay yearning.

In 2026, I'm bringing you The Animals We Became [working title], which is a queertrans retelling of the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi, looking at gender, compulsory heterosexuality, and trauma, via nonconsensual shapeshifting. Lotta trans vibes, lotta trauma; I wrote a first draft of this last year because I got carried away writing the sample chapters for my proposal and I'm excited to get deeper into it in edits. Aka t4t shapeshifting and trauma; generally tagged as also owls are transmasculine now.

And finally, in 2027, which is the one I've honestly been most excited to tell you guys about, it's To Run With The Hound [working title]. If you've been following me for a while, you'll know that I wrote a book with this title way back in 2018… well, the one I've sold isn't exactly that book, it's a proposal for how I intend to completely rewrite that book from the ground up, but yes, this is it: my Cú Chulainn novel, my queer medieval Irish book, my (hopefully) magnum opus. Haven't written it yet, but the plan is to use a nonlinear narrative to explore why Táin Bó Cúailnge is a tragedy, featuring a great many feelings about Fer Diad, Láeg, and Cú Chulainn himself.

There's a bit more detail and some FAQs on my website right now, but the most important thing is QUEER MEDIEVAL BOOKS WRITTEN BY SOMEBODY WITH MULTIPLE DEGREES IN MEDIEVAL LITERATURE. If that sounds like your jam, stick around.

#the wolf and his king #the animals we became #to run with the hound #also owls are transmasculine now #cu chulainn #blodeuwedd #bisclavret #writing #news #books

[ma1dita]

partners in crime

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]

MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST

summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers

things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!

here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)

child of dionysus headcanons!

trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar

deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)

play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)

character study: luke castellan & trouble

any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !

key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡

[rewind to before] pre-established relationship

trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼

The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)

entropy ☼

The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)

buddy system 4.2k ☼

The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)

somebody's angel 4.4k ☽

The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)

feed the fire 1.2k ☼

The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)

bedtime stories 2.4k ☼

The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)

crazy little thing 3.4k ☼

The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)

anything you want 1.6k ☼

The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)

said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽

The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)

[pause and remember us like this] established relationship

play pretend 5.1k ☼

The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)

a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽

The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)

chance encounters ☼

The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)

to see the chaos through ☽

The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)

not your goddess ☽

The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)

don't blame the kids ☼

The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)

trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼

The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)

now that we're older 3.5k ☼

The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)

if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽

The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )

[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt

lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽

The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)

love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽

The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)

to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽

The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)

solipsism 5.3k ☽

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)

angel with a broken wing ☼ ☽

The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four women Luke Castellan risked it for and how it will end up killing him)

love me dry (LATEST ADD) 4.5k ☼ ☽

The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)

when the curtains close☽

The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)

asking for trouble ☽

The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)

as above, so below ☽ ☼

The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)

ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹

#made by ma1dita ♥︎ #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo imagines #luke castellan x reader fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #🪽 #trouble!verse #percy series #pjo x reader #jo's navi <3

[queen-of-fanfics]

Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 

“Come up here and help me look at this.” 

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman #spider man #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara one shot #hobie #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderman x reader #spider man 2099

[bprdmyers]

@thenightmareofyourdrems (jack)

chaos. everything had devolved into complete and utter chaos. agents moving in, voices on the screens, a horsemen hijacked show hijacked from the horsemen themselves. dylan exposed. spotlight upon jack, georgie standing next to him. she shouldn’t have been there, her quest to repair that which had been broken overriding any sense she may have held within her to refrain from such a blatant disregard for the so called law and order she should have stood for. she had once stood in her bedroom declaring to jack that her path had been set the moment she’d met him. perhaps, her words were truer than she had even realized, georgie finding herself in the worst possible spot, attention toward her just as much as him. though, there was the chance it could have been brushed off as her having been in the wrong place at the wrong time, if only jack hadn’t gripped her arm and pulled her along with him, toward the escape route, up the stairs, down the latter, to the shoot on the side of the building. at least it hadn’t been recorded, it will perhaps be the youngest myers’ only hope to remain in the shadows, to save her father embarrassment, to save her from becoming doomed to the same fate jack had always wanted to spare her from, turning her into a criminal like him. 

sounds. words. flashing. sleep. georgie’s experience is not the same as the horseman. she does not wake up with them in the kitchen of a restaurant in china. no, she had woken much earlier into her own distinct horror show.

‘it’s a pleasure to be working with you.’ mabry says, presenting himself to the horsemen like some kind of sick joke. he’s supposed to be dead, of this much henley recalls from their research, of this much jack points out after their group is shoved out of the elevator into walter mabry’s penthouse. mabry speaks of a world of surveillance where the only true freedom is not being seen. he speaks of his magic being technology and uses it as a launching pad to bring up real magic. ‘of course you, mr. wilder, would know all that about that wouldn’t you?’ he questions, transitioning away and leaving the comment held within the air. he begins to tell them how he got them there, shows them a video of pictures of which georgie remains unsettling out of. henley shifts uncomfortably when mabry sits between her and danny. and then, finally their lost companion is brought up, mabry circling back to jack as he rises from his seat and faces them. ‘i imagine you’re all wondering what happened to your agent friend, yes? and no, i don’t mean mr. rhodes whom, i’m fairly certain is having his own struggles back in the states. oh, that’s right. i don’t imagine mr. wilder told you he’s been sleeping with the enemy. let’s see. where’s the remote. ah, yes, here.’ he clicks a button and an image of georgie’s f.b.i. credentials display on the screen. danny emitting a rather loud expletive. ‘an fbi agent right under your noses this whole time. except-- she’s not an fbi agent at all, is she mr. wilder?’ the screen changes, showing her bprd badge and walter launches into a rather animated, yet short, speech about how the horsemen do tricks but there were things that go bump in the night. he tells them what the bprd stands for, says it’s remarkable what you can find on the internet if you knew what you were looking for. danny retorts that he’s crazy if he thinks they are going to believe what he’s saying is true, at least in respect to magic, danny’s fairly certain he believes they were lied to about georgie’s identity. it only seems to bring a smirk to walter mabry’s features. ‘ah yes, i didn’t think you’d believe. so lets see what your friend’s been up to while you lot were sleeping. yes?’

the screen changes again, this time to a video of a room where georgie appears to be waking up, stumbling as if she’s unbalanced. two armed men followed by a man in a lab coat appear to enter and georgie can be seen reaching out, the men thrust backward with an unseen force only for her to grip her head a moment later in pain. ‘i imagine he didn’t tell you about that either. quite disappointing really, dr. wang was supposed to be the best in his field here and yet he couldn’t get his drug cocktail right the first time. after all, couldn’t have your little girlfriend attacking my men, or me with her spooky powers now could i mr. wilder? as you can see, she very much had access to them though i imagine she felt a rather killer headache.’ it’s clear from the video that her attempt to use her powers again was hindered by the pain that she was feeling, the two men she’d thrown into the wall now coming toward her again and gripping her arms while the doctor moved about the room. a physical struggle is shown for georgie might usually use her powers in a fight but she was fully capable of defending herself the human way too. the struggle takes her and the men out of the frame for a moment, her sluggishly brought back into it a moment later as if she’d been struck or stunned before she’s given a shot of something that seemingly forces her to stop moving. he shuts off the screen and motions to his armed men. ‘as you can see, that was quickly remedied by a new cocktail. don’t ask me what’s in it, i’d rather not know.’ a pause as if for effect. then he speaks again. ‘i see no issue with allowing a little reunion. of course, if you refuse my preposition i can just as easily have her and you killed.’ he doesn’t tell them what his preposition is yet, instead seems to take enjoyment in watching as things play out in front of him. for the other horsemen’s part, they appear too stunned by what they’ve seen to be outwardly expressing outrage toward jack for secrets revealed, all attention turning toward the doors as georgie’s brought in, two men’s grips on her arms too tight for how sluggish she’s appearing. 

her skin is a shade too pale, sweat clinging to her features and a bruise appears on the side of her face from the fight she’d gotten into, in the same place she’d had one before after her fight with the spiked monster so many months ago. the lights are too bright for her and she squints, unfocused until she’s brought to a halt and shoved forward, stumbling. ‘speak of the agent and she shall appear.’ a play on words from mabry and georgie’s gaze shoots upward, anger, no, not quite anger but rage upon her features. her entire body feels as if it’s in a war with itself, the very fabric of it’s nature, the power within her cells being attacked from the inside out. her power unable to be reached and her body rebelling against it. she makes a move forward and it’s almost primal how angry she is, as if she’d be able to cross the distance and attack him right there where he stood, however, she’s forced down onto a knee a moment later by the same men that had brought her in, both of which look worse for ware, she’d gotten a few good moves in before she’d been subdued. she’d fought. she was anything if not a survivor. it’s then, she seems to become aware of the others in the room who stand up from the couch and she can see merritt’s hand grip onto jack’s arm as if he’s ready to stop him from taking some kind of action. jack. jack was there. her eyes trail upward, gaze connecting with his in relief, concern, fear, and something else, something not quite readable. she forces the men to let her stand up though she’s strained. it takes her more effort than it should. however, she stops fighting after a look is shared with mabry because she knows, even if she could manage to attempt some sort of action when they were surrounded by armed men, he has the power to hurt jack. and hurt the others. ‘you can let her go.’ mabry states, the men release their hold, shoving her forward again so she’s being propelled toward jack. and while mabry will give them a moment, he’s bored with this whole thing, so his preposition will not be far behind. 

#thenightmareofyourdrems #alas we have made it to the china thread #tw; violence #tw; drugging #tw; kidnapping #verse three; now you see me #v3 jack thread 010

[gimmeurtmi]

no nut november — 2min

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho

tags: established relationship, polyamory, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, alcohol, throuple, heavy mxm, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," clubbing, voyeurism, a no nut november bet, 2min who are little shits, reader is implied demisexual but can be read otherwise, fingering, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, lmk what i forgot <3

inspo: i mustn’t say 🤭

notes: one might ask, “lils, why tf are you posting a no nut november fic in january?” and i will simply answer “time is but a cage i cannot be locked into.”. no but seriously i had this idea in like october and well. you know. so i finished it now because i missed my 2min throuple verse! im not madly in love with this and i didn’t know how to end it but i also thought it was lowkey cute so here it is!!! mwah! <3

{ wc: 4638}

“You two are crazy,” you scoffed, before taking another sip of your brightly coloured cocktail. It was Minho’s birthday celebration, albeit two days later than the actual birthday, but it was the weekend and easier for your schedules to align for a night out. 

“Come on, bubs, we’re serious,” Seungmin said, pushing his elbows forward and inching closer to you. It was odd of the pair of them to sit together and not fight for the seat beside you on the booth, but now you’ve understood they had an ulterior motive tonight. Trying to rope you into their craziness. 

“I have no issues with not having sex,” you start, shaking your head at Minho’s brow raise, “you both know that’s not the thing I care about here.”

“Exactly,” Seungmin grinned. “You love us and not our monster di—“

“—shush!!” You quickly urged him, watching your waitress approach your table to check on your service. You order six more shots. 

“I don’t understand the game, then,” you looked between them, eyeing them suspiciously. 

“We were talking about it, and I think out of the three of us Seungminnie is least likely to make it,” Minho explained. 

“But I’m a virgo,”

“But he’s a virgo,” you both echoed. Minho rolled his eyes with a small fond smile on his face, shaking his head. 

“Yes, there’s that. And we kept going back and forth about it so we thought we should just try it and see who actually makes it a whole month.” 

“This is incredibly stupid,” you decide, quickly shutting your mouth when the waitress arrives with your shots. You take one immediately and down it. 

“You’ve done stupider things,” Seungmin said, leaning back in his chair. He’s close to admitting defeat, you can tell. And so can Minho, so he turns his full attention to you and grabs your hands. 

“It’ll be so fun, come on. Imagine how frustrated the puppy will get when he keeps trying to hump our—“

“—hey!” Seungmin slapped Minho’s shoulder, earning an endeared giggle from the older. 

“Why do you two wanna do it so bad?” You squinted at Minho, watching as he fixes his gaze on yours in determination. 

“Because I wanna be right,” he rubs his thumb against your hand. “I think he’ll crack first, and then you. And then me.” 

“I will last a whole month. Maybe even two.” 

“Bubs, this isn’t just no sex with us. This is no touching at all. Nothing,” Seungmin tries. 

“No kissing even?” You squeak. 

“Yes kissing!” Minho practically yells, squeezing your hand tightly. He looks between the pair of you, alarmed as his bunny teeth peek out of his gasp. “Definitely lots of kissing!” 

Seungmin laughs almost evilly at the pair of you, his bangs hiding his eyes slightly as he shakes his head. 

“So just no sexual stuff,” you try to clarify. “That’s too easy.”

“Then let’s do it!” Minho exclaimed, grabbing one of the two shots placed in front of him and downing it with a dramatic head swing. 

Seungmin rolls his eyes before downing one of his pair. 

“I feel like you two are up to something,” you say, tapping your fingers against Minho’s palm. Seungmin scoffs. 

“Why would we be up to something, bubs?” 

“Yeah, bunny,” Minho blinks innocently, “what would we be up to?” 

You scrutinise Minho’s ears, studying them carefully for any sign of redness—but the ambience is relaxed and luxurious around you, which for whatever reason means there’s barely enough light to tell if Minho’s ears are telling the truth or not. 

“Hey,” Seungmin grabs your arm, squeezing softly, “let’s just forget about it, then. Hyung and I thought it would be funny but if you don’t want to then there’s nothing to discuss.” 

“I’ll think about it,” you conclude. 

It’s then you remember the other round of shots you each have waiting in front of you, and gesture to your boyfriends for a cheers. You dedicate it to Minho’s birthday before clinking your glasses together. Then, after three more rounds, Minho decides he’s ready for the club. 

It’s packed full of people, Minho’s arm protectively wrapping around your stomach as he shields you from behind. Seungmin holds your hand tightly in front you, the three of you single file as he pushes through the sea of party goers. It’s just the last Saturday of October, it shouldn’t be so busy, but Minho says he wants to stay so the three of you stay. 

Seungmin pushes all the way to the very heart of the dance floor where the bass is so loud you feel it in your ribcage. You can barely see anything around you—bodies pushing you from one side to the other, but you know it’s safe since Minho is completely behind you. Like your personal shield. 

You tug Seungmin’s hand, pulling him closer to you until he stumbles, Minho’s other arm reaching for Seungmin’s spare one. 

The three of you start dancing along to whatever overplayed club tune is on, so close no one could possibly separate you. So close you feel Minho’s hardness against your ass. You couldn’t exactly classify it as dancing, at least not by any standards Minho would allow. You’re basically just grinding on each other in time with the music. It’s a very fast song. 

“Seung,” you have to yell in his ear, “he’s gonna get needy if we keep dancing like this.” 

Seungmin, always quick to solve problems—or indeed, make them worse—grabs Minho by the back of his head and kisses him as messily as he possibly can. The grip on your hip tightens, and even the music isn’t loud enough to drown out Minho’s deep moan. You aren’t actually sure if you heard it or you could feel it vibrating against you but soon Minho grabs your jaw and starts kissing around it, Seungmin attaching his lips to yours. 

The three of you aren’t the biggest participants of PDA, mainly because of the judgemental eyes that it brings with it, but the veil of alcohol and club induced horniness means you know you can get away with it here. Besides, it’s so dark and incredibly loud that no one is really paying attention to the three of you anyway. 

You feel Minho sucking onto your skin, your senses clouded by Seungmin’s tongue—but Minho’s hands are obviously inchining higher and higher, getting dangerously close to your chest. 

“Min,” you let out softly, detaching yourself from Seungmin for only a moment to let out your weak sounding warning. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Minho grumbles, grabbing Seungmin and you by the wrist as he pushes his way outside. 

A very tense taxi ride back, and almost two hours of worshipping the birthday boy later—the three of you fall on the bed, naked and sweaty and spent. 

As the one with the most working limbs, it’s your turn to get water and snakes and warm clothes to change into. You quickly wrap yourself up in your fuzzy robe before running to the kitchen. You grab two bottles and the fruit Minho cut up before you left “just in case” as if you weren’t all aware your evening would end the way it did. 

When you returned, hands full, you saw a rare tenderness shared between your boyfriends you don’t often get to see. 

They’re too often caught up in their fake bickering and inability to show their feelings that it can be easy to forget just how much they love each other. 

You try not to make too much noise, not to disrupt their bubble as you watch Seungmin, a love sick puppy look in his eyes as he combs Minho’s sweaty hair back from his face, before he leans down to kiss him ever so softly. 

Minho barely moves, which is expected after what the pair of you did to him, and smiles softly against Seungmin’s full lips. You feel your heart bursting at the sight of them, so wrapped up with each other, and it gets harder and harder not to join them. Not to mention your full hands. 

You slowly sit down on the bed, Minho’s fingers blindly reaching for your hand and you wrap your fingers around his once you put all your items to the side. You were going to grab clothes too but Minho isn’t going to let go of your hand any time soon—so you simply admire the scene, your boyfriends exchanging soft kisses. 

“Hyungie,” Seungmin giggles after a few minutes, “you can’t fall asleep yet.” 

“But—“ he puckers his lips up, perfectly pillowy as he demands more kisses. His eyes are closed shut, a small muted whine leaving him as he’s left kissless for more than two seconds. Seungmin looks up at you with his signature shit eating grin and gestures for you to give him an apple slice, promptly shoving it into Minho’s puckered up lips. 

Minho only opens his eyes for a moment to recognise what’s been shoved into his lips, before he obediently gets to eating his fruit with his eyes still shut. 

Seungmin gestures to the water bottle, telling you in sign language he’d like to dunk all of it on the incredibly peaceful Minho below him. You laugh loudly before crossing your hands in an X. 

Minho silently demands more, and you have to sit him up this time to properly eat and hydrate, and the three of you finish all the fruit and water in relative silence. 

It’s only after you’ve washed and dressed (and Seungmin changed the sheets) that Minho speaks up. 

“That was a really good birthday,” he mumbles, incredibly tired now that most of the adrenaline wore off. 

“You’re gonna be really sore tomorrow though,” Seungmin chuckles, ignoring the pout Minho sends his way. 

You giggle, agreeing with Seungmin before you wrap your arms around his middle and promptly fall asleep. 

Seungmin makes your coffee the way you like it the next morning. Minho is still asleep and you decide you don’t want to disturb him yet. 

The pair of you listen to the news for a bit and then put on a rerun of a variety show before you speak up halfway through the episode. Seungmin quickly lowers the volume. 

“We should do it,” you say, sipping from your lukewarm coffee. 

“Do what?” 

“Your stupid no sex for a month pact,”

“Was the sex that bad last night?” He blinks at you, mouth gaped and perfectly round. 

“Maybe it was just that good that you broke my cunt and I need a month off,” you raise your eyebrows at him. 

Seungmin starts to smirk just as a grumbled voice says, “yeah, me too. Never touch me again, Kim Seungmin.” 

Minho crashes on the chair next to yours, groaning as he sits down, before nuzzling his face into your shoulder. 

“So you two agree I have a monster d—“

“Seung!” You both yell out. 

*

November 28th 

The boys have been away for weeks. 

They didn’t quite consider the pact they made was perfectly timed with their packed schedule and so there was no real way for you to break it anyway. Even if you were to resort to the classic solution of phone sex, they rarely had time. 

There was always a good night text, and a good morning selfie, and the unappealing close ups of Minho’s food for the day. Your group chat was still as active as ever with the boys exchanging stories and you sharing all your personal gossip with them. 

But there was no time to think about the bet. 

That was until they came back home two days ago.

You were doing perfectly fine before they had to be in your house every day, sharing your bed, walking around with just a towel after their morning showers. 

Both of them were incredibly irritating that way—existing next to you without instigating anything, without sharing tender kisses with you while they touched your body.

You meant what you said then, of course the sexual aspect of your relationship wasn’t a top priority but there was an intimacy you craved with your boyfriends that you always felt during sex and with them being gone for work for the better part of a month, it was the first thing you wanted when they came back. 

But you stayed strong, you wouldn’t let yourself be the one to lose. 

Last night you fell asleep before the boys even came back home, but at some point you felt hands around your shoulders and a knee against yours and so you knew they were back with you. 

And in the morning after blinking your eyes open, you were met with Minho’s beautiful face. You smiled softly to yourself, a content sigh leaving your chest as you snuggled closer to your boyfriend. The other side of the bed was empty, but you could hear a faint melody coming from the shower, so you knew Seungmin was awake and well, too. 

After spending the morning cuddling with a half sleeping Minho–Seungmin only annoying you once when he walked over and kissed your shoulder in greeting, before shaking his wet hair all over the pair of you–you had to get up to do some errands around town. 

Your boyfriends offered to come with you but you insisted they shouldn’t, after all, Minho could barely keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes and Seungmin had a vocal lesson in an hour. You didn’t want them to go out of their way for you when you needed to take care of boring adult stuff anyway. 

While you were still stuck in traffic, Seungmin sent you half a dozen pictures of Minho’s sleeping face with a text that said ‘help me hide his corpse’. 

You knew Seungmin was obviously bored but you couldn’t possibly help him from so far away, instead you challenged him to a game of one on one trivia through an app you both liked. 

At one point, when your phone said you were still thirty minutes away from home, Seungmin didn’t take his turn–so you concluded that either Minho woke up or Seungmin found something more interesting to do. 

When you got back home half an hour later, you discovered exactly what it was that Seungmin found more interesting than your trivia game. 

“I’m home!” You announced as you walked in, quickly taking your shoes off and washing your hands. It was quiet in the house otherwise, and with the door to the bedroom closed you assumed they were both napping again. They always came home tired from their schedules and the mixture of jet leg so you tried your best to make a snack as quietly as possible. 

But then you heard a moan. 

“Seungminnie,” Minho said softly through the walls, “so good.” 

You quickly snapped up from your chair, rushing towards the bedroom. 

You had no doubt about what you heard (Minho was never good at volume control) but you still wanted to confirm it fully. Slowly, quietly, you opened the door to the bedroom. And there, sure enough, were your boyfriends half naked, kissing, their hands down each others’ boxers. 

They haven’t noticed you yet, Minho's eyes were closed in pure pleasure as Seungmin switched between kissing him and moaning against his cheek. You could see both their hands moving in sync as they jerked each other off—still completely unaware you could see everything. 

At least you won their stupid bet. 

You always love being the centre of their attention, but watching them was a completely intoxicating experience. Getting to notice every little quirk of Minho’s eyebrows as the pleasure took over him, watching Seungmin’s uncaring facade disappear as he gets lost in the feeling his boyfriend provides. You could feel your wetness soaking through your clothes, you could feel the dull throb of arousal between your legs—but you didn’t want to do anything other than watch them. You should probably make your presence known, but all you wanted to do was keep watching.

You could tell Minho was getting close since he scrunched his eyes shut and started whimpering out Seungmin’s name, and you could tell Seungmin was close since he wasn’t making any noises at all, and you watched in awe as they sped up their movements. 

“Hyung, I’m close,” Seungmin whimpered out. 

“Me too,” Minho groaned. “Together baby, okay?” 

You had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at their words, from gushing at the small kiss Minho pressed against Seungmin’s lips before the pair of them groaned out together as they came. 

Seungmin is the first to open his eyes, and he reaches for some wipes to help clean them both up. He smiles, soft, as he kisses Minho’s cheek. 

“Do you feel better, baby?” He asked, barely above a whisper. 

Minho smiles, one thin line, as he nods quickly before shutting his eyes and snuggling into Seungmin’s chest. 

They still haven’t noticed you. 

“You want to sleep more?” Seungmin asks as he plants a kiss on the top of Minho’s head. 

“I wanna make dinner before Y/N gets back, she’s probably gonna be hungry when she gets here.”

You feel your heart speed up at the mention of your name, but they haven’t even looked in your direction yet. So you don’t move. 

“Okay, let’s rest for a bit first,” Seungmin concludes. Minho hums in agreement, moving closer to his chest and planting a small kiss on his heart. 

“I don’t think she’s been eating well while we were gone,” Minho mumbles, “you two are exactly the same. If I don’t cook it’s only takeout for your lazy asses.” 

“That’s rude,” you chuckle. 

They both gasp, and Minho’s eyes shoot right open as he realises what he’s heard. 

“Bubs!” Seungmin yells. “H-how long have you been home?” 

“Long enough,” you smile, as innocently as you can allow yourself, before making your way over to the bed. You sit on the edge of it trying your best to keep a serious face as the boys look at you slightly apprehensive. 

They both sit up, moving away from each other as if to prove that definitely nothing happened between them two seconds ago. 

“But how long?” Minho asks, eyes wide. 

“I should ask you two the same thing, no?” You tilt your head to the side, eyebrows high on your face. 

Seungmin chuckles nervously, looking at Minho before looking back at you. 

“Nothing happened, you know. We were just cuddling,” Minho is quick to say. 

“Right,” you nod, “of course.” 

“Seriously, bubs, it’s was just—“ 

“—you two cumming at the same time?” They both let out a sigh of defeat, realising they can’t possibly lie to you since you’ve seen it all unfold. 

Minho shakes his head softly before reaching for your wrist. He rubs his thumb against the back of your hand before sighing softly. 

“Truth is, we made the bet because we wanted to see how horny you’d get,” Minho rolls his eyes, “but it just made Kim Seungmin more unbearable than usual.”

“Lee Minho,” he says quickly, “that is not the truth.”

“He doesn’t even respect his elders,” Minho mumbled at you, a disapproving frown on his lips. You roll your eyes before turning to Seungmin with a questioning raise of your brows. 

“Hyung got horny first,” Seungmin corrects him. 

“I did not,” he retaliates. 

“You did. You dragged me to the dressing room after MuCore and you—“ Minho slaps his hand onto Seungmin’s mouth, his upper lip curling in on itself as he tried his best not to yell too much at his boyfriend. 

“It was a frustrating day,” Minho explains, trying to regain some of his pride back. 

All you can do is laugh. “So your plan to make me horny backfired on you?”

They both nod. “I was embarrassed about it so we didn’t want to tell you, we thought we’d just let the month end and not bring it up again.” 

“Hyung,” Seungmin sighs. They share a look between themselves, something you can’t understand, before Seungmin turns to you. He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything. We had a lot of sex this month,” 

“Like, a lot,” Minho agrees with a giggle. 

“And we wanted to tell you! But we also thought it would be funnier if you cracked like Minho did.”

“I told you guys it was a stupid idea,” you grin. 

“You’re not mad we didn’t tell you?” Seungmin asks, and Minho squeezes your hand tightly. 

“No,” you shrug, “it’s not like you did anything wrong. You just proved that I’m the best out of the three of us,” you giggle—laughing harder when Seungmin’s mouth gaps. 

“So it’s all good? We’re fine?” Minho asks. 

You hum softly. “You had a lot of sex this month, right?” They nod. “And I haven’t had any at all.”

“True,” Minho starts playing with your fingers, a small smirk forming on his lips. 

“So we need to balance the scales a little, don’t you think?” 

“Oh, definitely,” Seungmin nods eagerly, jumping forward to grab your hips and plant you firmly on his lap. 

Instantly, Minho straddles Seungmin’s knees, wrapping his arms around your middle. Seungmin grabs your jaw, crashing his tongue against yours as you moan into his mouth. You didn’t realise just how much you were craving your boyfriends touch until that very second you received it and then your whole body lit on fire with the longing you had for them. 

You didn’t even need to ask for more, as before your brain could even tell your tongue to use words, Minho was taking off your shirt and bra. He cups your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples as you moan loudly. 

A month without touching yourself, days of your lovers cuddling up to you in your sleep, and then watching them cum at the same time has all caused you such extreme horny brain fog you didn’t even know what to do with yourself or how to react. All you could do was throw your head back onto Minho’s shoulder and let your hips chase the pleasure you craved against Seungmin’s lap. 

“Seungminnie,” Minho coaxed softly, “can you suck on bunny’s tits for us?” 

Seungmin eagerly nods, his hair jumping with the motion before he wraps his full lips around your nipple. Minho kisses your shoulder before he runs a hand through Seungmin’s hair with a soft, “good job.” 

Seungmin’s lips sent waves of pleasure up and down your body, an aching throb shaking against your core as you grow more and more desperate. Luckily, neither one of them is in any position to make fun of you or hold it against you. In fact, they’re both so eager to keep making you feel good. 

Minho slips his hand into your underwear, quickly finding your clit and rubbing figure eights against it in a bruising pace. 

You don’t think more than ten seconds pass before you grab Seungmin’s hair tightly, and chant out that “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” 

Minho kisses your neck as it rushes over you, while Seungmin squeezes your thighs as they start shaking. 

Your vision blurs for a moment or two before you refocus, and catch sight of a bewildered Seungmin wiping his lips. 

“Bubs that was so fucking quick,” he sighs, amazed. “How?” 

“Min, I need another one,” is all you provide for an explanation. 

Minho is quick to follow his orders and resumes his previous pace as he rubs your clit again. It takes a few seconds longer and Seungmin notices, so he quickly gets back to teasing your tits for the extra stimulation you’d need. It doesn’t take long after that, and although your walls flutter around emptiness it’s so much better than not cumming at all. You moan loudly as it hits your entire body. 

Minho plants kisses all around your face as you catch your breath, but you don’t even care about breathing. You mumble out, “more.”

“My turn this time!” Seungmin rushes out, pulling your underwear off and softly rubbing your sensitive clit. 

Minho leaves you with a firm kiss before he lays back down next to Seungmin, watching your face with laser focus. 

“You’ve been waiting for this, bunny?” He says lowly. You nod quickly as you make no effort to stop the broken moans tumbling out your chest. “Your cunt has been so eager for us, huh?” 

“M-Min, I’ll fucking cum again—“ Seungmin applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing as hard and as fast as he can before you fall forward with the impact of another orgasm. 

“Holy fuck,” you say once you catch your bearings. 

“That was fun,” Seungmin grins. “Want more, bubs?” 

“Yeah, yes,” you moan, still aching for more as your clit throbs, “want something inside me.” 

The boys exchange a look before Minho rubs your shoulder. He drags you off Seungmin’s lap, slowly, before he places you between the pair of them. 

He makes sure to spread your legs as you get comfortable on your back. 

“I’m not ready yet,” he says with a small kiss to your temple, “think my fingers will be enough?” 

“Please,” you nod. 

“I’m not ready either,” Seungmin says while lacing his fingers with yours, “but since my hand is much bigger wouldn’t you prefer my fingers?” 

“I-I-I,” is all you manage to stutter out, your brain too slow after three orgasms. You don’t even know who they’re trying to tease, you or the other, but there’s only one thing on your mind. “I just wanna cum.”

“But you already did, my pretty bunny,” Minho brushes your lips together softly, “are you gonna be so greedy that you’ll ask for both our fingers for a fourth orgasm?” 

“How many times has Seung made you cum in the past month?” You manage to accuse. 

“About fifteen? fourteen?” Minho shrugs. 

“Then you owe me twelve more,” you whine. 

Minho nods slowly, blinking a few times before he smiles. “Mine or Kim Seungmin’s?” 

“Both,” you groan, “just take turns I don’t care.” 

“Fuck that’s demanding,” Seungmin chuckles dryly. “Guess we do owe her, though.” 

“Guess we do,” Minho shrugs. 

Seungmin leans down to kiss your neck softly and you feel his hand sliding up your thigh, slowly circling your entrance before sinking inside you. The stretch feels so good it echoes to your thighs and you moan loudly as it deepens. You feel Minho’s fingers crawl up your thigh before your walks tighten as more slips inside you. You blink your eyes open to see it was in fact both of them. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you sob out as you feel six fingers inside you, a loud and wet noise accompanying their movements as they slide their fingers in and out, perfectly synchronised with each other. 

“Minho-hyung made me cum twenty times, so we owe you thirty two all together,” Seungmin says simply. 

You clench tightly at those words, at your boyfriends’ promise, and they both smirk at each other when they feel it. 

It was a long evening after that, the boys insisting on going until you had to tap out and say you couldn’t take anymore. They kissed you softly and apologised again but you told them they were certainly forgiven. You didn’t even actually need twenty nine more orgasms from them. But they insisted that was the only way to make it up to you that they even suggested such a silly bet just to get a reaction out of you. 

Minho does eventually feed you, and Seungmin brushes your hair after your shared shower, and they promise to keep kissing you until you fall asleep.

They never break any of their promises to you, and by the second week of December their debt is cleared too.

#2mints #all.works #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #2min x reader #2min smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #seungmin smut #skz smut #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop smut

[jeoseungsaja]

When he hears the sirens, the Black Knight knows his cue to disappear. ANACHRON knows it’s their cue too, slipping back into the shadows, yet again. Dammit, he was so close too! And yet, his first instinct isn’t to run. But rather, when he realizes a certain detective is within the vicinity, ready to fight his way into the circle, the Black Knight's first instinct is to grab that detective’s hand and then run. Never mind the ache building in his leg or the protests on Hyuk’s part, the important part is that he gets Hyuk as far away from both ANACHRON and the police as possible. Hyuk might be familiar with the Gangnam Police, but even he cannot hope to get away without repercussion should they find out he shares a connection, however minuscule the thread is, to the Black Knight.

The Black Knight only stops once they’re in an alleyway. It’s in one of the more rundown parts of Itaewon, which is also where the Black Knight’s base is located ( Rook is not going to be happy- what if the detective starts poking around here too? ) .His leg is aching. And his side stings from a bullet graze. And yet he forces himself to stand tall, sword still unsheathed. The sound of metal dropping against the cobblestone barely registers.

“You really don’t listen, do you? Keep loitering around these spaces and you’ll be lucky to get out in one piece. Is that what your friend would want?”

Letting go of Hyuk’s hand ( they haven’t done that in years ), he turns away to make his escape, only to pause. Why does his vest pocket feel empty- panic floods in. Where is it? He couldn’t have dropped it, that’s never happened before, and- the Black Knight whirls around.

It’s Hyuk, picking up his POCKET WATCH, the one Felicity gave Patrick all those years ago.

Patrick’s stomach drops.

And without thinking, he lunges forward, snatching his watch out of his dear friend’s hands. The watch dangling between the two of them, Patrick stares at Hyuk in bewilderment. And fear. Hands shaky, he shoves it back into his coat pocket. Patrick turns away.

“You’re lucky this time. Next time, I’ll stab you.”

( HI ALEX!! SO THIS PART OF THE INBOX CALL :DDD pls don't mind me flood u with a few unprompted asks sjdkflsj, but also...so hyurick in black knight verse?? I went overboard and basically he was one step forward, two steps back 🙃, but also feel free to ignore this if you think this doesn’t fit!! Have a wonderful day and care you lots!! <3 )

@ofgentleresolve ♚ hyuk didn’t get stabbed but i did...right in the heart--

♔ ———–

    Sirens roar and even its incessant bellow is not enough to push him away from the scene. It should, shouldn’t it? After all, he’s been nothing but a menace to the police, who already have sent him away previous times with a warning (as well as with long, tired sighs from the detective currently handling the cases Hyuk would officially and legally take care of, once upon a time). Tickets of caution can only last for so long and one day he’ll face the real danger by being dragged behind bars for obstruction and suspicious activity. No matter how careless Hyuk’s gotten now, he cannot afford to go to jail, for that’s precious time he cannot waste by simply counting the days until a release. All minutes, seconds --- they should be dedicated to find out the truth.

   The truth about his best friend’s death.

    Still, he takes a step forward, toward the smoke; swirls that seem all too familiar at this point. There are spots of dirt on the detective’s skin, as well as cuts that might heal if he lets them be; a victim of his own heedlessness. The adrenaline in his veins does not let him feel the exhaustion, or the way the open wound on his forehead burns. He steps into the fog and as he tries to adjust his vision, he’s unexpectedly yanked by a gloved hand. 

   His first instinct is to tug back, but his palm is well-adhered to the other’s fingers, as if knowing he’d fight back. A frown; long legs unwillingly bend toward this uncharted territory whilst trying to see who has him under their grasp. 

   He’d recognize that top hat anywhere.     The all-black attire.     The high collar of his coat.     The sword shining under the bashful moonlight. 

   “Yah, let me go! Let me go!”

    But the Black Knight won’t relent, will he? Oddly enough, that’s something they both share: Thick stubbornness. While one pushes, the other tugs...but, ironically enough, they keep colliding onto the same paths; onto the same places. 

     Growls of protest echo through, gaze registering the surroundings. What is this place? It looks dilapidated, with paint peeling off the walls and buildings resembling an ancient world long forgotten. A rundown neighborhood, a side of town not many would care to look at. It seems the Black Knight is aware of desolated spots, for he walks as if he’s utterly familiar with the surroundings. Not even him, who’s well-versed in pinpointing several streets due to years of patrolling and case-chasing, would think about heading to this place. 

     Why did he take them there?      Is it a simple detour, or should it mean something?      Hyuk cannot allow any details to slip away. 

     “I’ll break your arm if I have to, is that what you want? Because I will break---” 

     Finally, fingers get harshly unlatched from the strange warmth of cloaked hand when the Black Knight loosens his grip. Hand turns into a fist, nostrils flare at the unwanted scolding, jaw tensing at the mention of his friend. 

     “What do you care, huh? Who do you think you are? Stop using my friend as an excuse to make me reconsider. He’s not here anymore. The one who used to think things over isn’t here either.” 

     Pieces of him decayed when Patrick passed away, like a sunflower that no longer has the sun by its side, or a shrub of forsythias losing its color because the healthy Earth has open cracks of dryness; wounds that remain and never really close. Parts of Hyuk died when his best friend did, or perhaps they’re deeply buried somewhere he blocked from memory so he’d never find them. After all, the one who could retrieve them is no longer living, so why would Hyuk want them? 

     “You don’t listen either. I told you to never come back again with your warnings and needless advice, remember? So why do you keep---” 

      He, indeed, does not let any details slip.       His ears take note of a sound; a descent.       Metal colliding upon cobblestone.       Once shy, the moonlight becomes stronger in that alleyway.       It guides him, lets him know there’s something on the floor.        A watch. 

     Silence. The detective bends down; catches watch’s circular body with his palm and thumb; chain feeling heavy between his fingers. He stands up and some of his steps falter when keeping his gaze glued at the item --- not because he’s not watching where he’s going, but because he knows this watch. The details on the tightly shut cover, they look worn, as if fingers kept rubbing and grazing to the point of getting edges blurry, but they’re still there, staring back at him. 

     Patrick’s watch. The one Felicity gave him years ago. This one and his dear friend’s look exactly the same. The only difference is that the one on his hand has suffered due to the hands of time...but the same thing would’ve happened to Patrick’s watch if he was still alive, wouldn’t it? All items, no matter how precious, start to show signs of wear after years of usage. Much like the mandarin duck plush he still keeps somewhere in his apartment. 

     Eyes lifting, he sees the Black Knight’s back. His hand tightens around the watch. And he remembers, he remembers he couldn’t find Patrick’s pocket watch under all the rubble when he went to London to see the chaos himself. He remembers that the evidence never showed any pictures of that watch, not even signs or traces of charred metal or clock’s hands and numbers bent by the merciless waves of fire. He also remembers that this was one of the factors Suki considered suspicious when Hyuk commented about it. 

    And if this is, indeed, Patrick’s watch, how did it end up here?     In South Korea.      Under the Black Knight’s shadow. 

  Speechless, he witnesses the vigilante suddenly whirling around. He’s forgotten something, hasn’t he? The watch is still on Hyuk’s hand, but he’s too stunned to react quickly; his own fingers trembling as palm shows the other what he’s found. 

   “How?” 

   But he gets no answer. Not a verbal one, at least. The watch sternly departs from his grasp; gazes locking. Is the confident brown of those eyes hesitating? Is the smug Black Knight scared? The detective is trying to learn as much as he can, even if the high collar of the other’s coat doesn’t let him see if lips are twitching or not, even if the mask might cover a widened expression. His eyes. Hyuk’s slowly learning to decipher them.

    And the Black Knight’s hands. They seem unstable.

   “Where did you get that watch?” 

   Hyuk reaches out, tries to stop the vigilante from leaving, but his hand only catches air. 

   “No, no, you have to---where did you get it?!” 

  The detective starts to run after him, but it seems the vision of the watch causes him to have a million and one thoughts; a trigger of a lack of balance. His hand lands on a brick wall; jog halts.

    He starts to get flashbacks of Patrick showing him the watch for the first time.      His face of happiness when he says that Felicity gave it to him. The love of his life.     He remembers the times Patrick takes the watch out of his pocket, just to fondly stare at it.     A precious memory of someone he unfairly lost.     He takes note of the echoes of his voice, and they seem so near, yet so far.      Like he’s watching all of this through the grainy screen of a television.

    A groan; dizziness kicks in. He presses one side of his body to the wall, breathing in and out. This isn’t the time to disconnect from the world, Lee Hyuk. Everything around him looks blurry; the wound on his forehead starts to remind him of pain. He slowly slides down in an attempt to sit down, gather his senses so he can at least return to the office without a hassle. 

    Jae-Hwan and Suki must not know about this.      They might suspect something is going on already, though.     He up and left without saying anything, like he usually does.     That doesn’t mean they don’t worry...they always do. 

    The fire. The charred wood; the strong scent of burnt.      Whoever started it knew what they were doing.     Nakamura’s voice invades his head now.     They wanted you to think the fire was accidental.

     I couldn’t find any signs of his watch. Why? He kept that watch with him at all times.

     All the models of watches in existence, and the Black Knight had to have that one. A pocket watch, nonetheless. Something that a lot of people don’t use frequently these days. 

     God, he has to stop thinking.       He closes his eyes. 

     The last thing he sees is the distant and distorted view of a battered clock tower.

———– ♔  

#ofgentleresolve #♔ || verse three (arc two). #♔ || i'm in it with you (patrick | black knight au). #EXCUSE ME AS I HECKIN' SCREAM OVER THIS IWEUHIWUEDHIWEUHDIEH #JUST IMAGINE ME RUNNING IN CIRCLES AND YELLIN' AS SOON AS I READ IT AND SAW THE WATCH BEING REVEALED TO HYUK--- #against Patrick's wishes bUT Y'KNOW WHAT SOME THINGS DON'T GO AS PLANNED MY DEAR PROFESSOR--WIEUDHIUEWDHIUWEDH #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN FERRE :D NEEDLESS TO SAY I GOT VERY EXCITED --- EVEN IF THIS VERSE IS PURE PAIN IT'S SO INTERESTING TO #SEE THIS SIDE OF THEM / THE WAY THEY'D REACT AS THE TRUTH SLOOOOWLY UNCOVERS #HYUK IS SUCH A CONFUSED MESS HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO THINK WIEUDHWIUEDHWDH #I also hope Hyuk's reaction isn't exaggerated or anything of the sort #sometimes this happens where reality gets warped #and he doesn't know where he is for a moment in time #he gets overwhelmed and since there's the ongoing repression of emotions -- wELL -- #bUT YEAH IF IT'S?????? TOO MUCH OR ANYTHING DO LET ME KNOW AND I CAN TOTALLY CHANGE THINGS #I did mention it was going to be a long post 👀 #iwudehiweudhUIHWEID COULDN'T HELP MYSELF / HYURICK MAKES ME SPILL ALL THE PARAGRAPHS--- #I HOPE WHAT I WROTE MADE SENSE AND IT'S SOMETHING TO WORK WITH DEVELOPMENT-WISE ;WWWWWWWW; #Sorry Rook you are perhaps going to be upset because....now that Hyuk has seen the area...he's probably going to stick his nose around IWUHE #he leaves no stone unturned (wHEEZE) #Also Hyuk acting all tough when saying 'stop using my friend as an excuse.../he's no longer here...' when I know he's breaking inside C: #IUHWEIUDHWEDI #ALSO I HOPE IT'S OKAY THAT I MENTIONED SUKI HERE???? #I took those lines from what you told me on Discord ;W; BUT IF??? YOU'D LIKE ME TO CHANGE THIS I WILL JUST LMK <3 #ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU HEAPS FOR SENDING THIS IN / LOVED REPLYING TO THIS WIHDIWUEDHUH #AND THANK YOU FOR LETTING HYUK BE PART OF THIS WONDERFUL (BUT SUPER PAINFUL) VERSE UwU #Also watch him arriving to his apartment just to take a shower and put on other clothes #since the other outfit he was wearing got full of dirt due to him sitting on the ground for a while until his dizziness subsided #and after that going straight to the office to refresh his mind about the watch IUWHEDIWUEHDIH #PLS HAVE A NICE DAY FERRE!!! CARE YOU HEAPS ;W;!!! #♔ || queue.

[wandasaura]

TWO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER

summary — in an attempt to get wanda’s attention, you end up warming the strap you hoped she’d fuck you with.

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, strap-on usage, mommy kink, brief daddy kink, cockwarming, holding/accidental wetting, degradation, praise, aftercare, oral fixation, subspace, humiliation, ¿nursing?, idk you suck on wanda’s tits, domestic fluff, men/minors dni

authors note — if you’re familiar with the song peace, i thought the lyrics from the second verse fit this little moment so perfectly! mommy wanda lovers this one is for you, it was heavily requested so nobody look at me! there’s also some soft daddy nat for those that wanted to see more of her

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

You should have learned a long time ago that acting out with Wanda never ended the way you wanted it to. Natasha was easy to get what you wanted out of, a few bats of your eyelashes and a whispered cry of Daddy had her backtracking in seconds, but Wanda was unforgiving and found pride in that fact. You’d gained your footing in this new dynamic rather easily, and on some days, the three of you worked so perfectly together that it felt like you’d been a couple for your entire life, not merely a few weeks.  Wanda and Natasha had fallen into a healthy balance of being your girlfriends and being your dominants. There were days that passed without an ounce of tension, but other days feel like a battlefield. You still weren’t sure how to ask for what you needed from them, which is how you found yourself in the position you’re in now. With summer still lingering through the streets of Westview, you slept between warm bodies every night. There was no indication of what mood you woke up in when daylight painted the sky, but Natasha and Wanda had learned to wait for your not-so-subtle tells. When your eyes peeled open, it was easiest to gauge what side of you they were dealing with. When you wanted to spend the day, or at least a couple hours of your morning, as just their girlfriend, they gave you that without hesitance. Wanda giggled with you in the kitchen and Natasha tackled you onto the couch demanding cuddles, and it always felt easy and real. Other days, when you weren’t so willing to harbor full control of your life, you woke up clinging to your Daddy. It was always Natasha you sought out first thing in the morning, but Wanda can’t complain when she’s the one being smothered throughout the night. They were happy to be whoever you wanted them to be, but they’d slowly been working you up to asking for yourself. 

This morning was one of those days where Wanda decided that if you wanted something from her, you needed to ask and not just with your actions, but with your words. Natasha had gone into the office to oversee a development in a new high-profile case, leaving you to follow the Sokovian around the house like a little lost duckling. Where Wanda went you went, simple as that, well, unless of course she managed to close the door before you could get behind it. That had led to a series of whines and angrily stomped feet, but even then she hadn’t budged then. She hadn’t budged until you had wandered into her office with your hands clasped behind your back. She’d gone to ask what you needed, attempted to give you yet another chance to tell her that you needed your Mommy, but you’d dropped an all black strap-on into her lap and pouted at her with needy eyes before she could get the words out. When she’d pulled her linen shorts down her thighs and attached the harness around her hips, you’d thought you had won. When she told you to get into her lap and take the strap down to the hilt, you were sure that you had won. 

In case it wasn’t clear, you hadn’t won. It had been an hour since she’d asked you to come settle onto her lap and take the strap into your dripping pussy. You’d complied easily, sank down on the toy without her help, and had started grinded your hips against hers in a manner that forced the base to rock against her core perfectly. That pleasure hadn’t lasted long, barely three minutes, and just as your hips had found a comfortable pace, Wanda placed a bruising grip on your hips and completely stilled your movements.  Her lips had been wet when they kissed at the side of her neck, and a pleased hum reached your ears as she used a single slender finger to point your chin toward the ceiling. The full expanse of your neck had been both visible and biteable in that moment, and it hadn’t taken any convincing for her teeth to settle firmly into your skin. You found it laughable that at the start of your contract with Natasha, you’d likened her to a vampire, but Wanda was truly the vampire in your relationship. She possessed an incessant need to dig her teeth into any part of you that she could touch, and you allowed her to eagerly. She’d cooed at your whine when it tumbled from your lips, but there hadn’t been an ounce of sympathy in her face when she asked you, “What do you do to get what you want?” 

“Ask.” You had responded with bated breath, your eyes murky with lust that had been ignored for hours. If Natasha were here she’d have already fucked you raw, but Wanda wasn’t afraid of the long game. She’d never been shy about making you work for what you wanted, and even months into your dynamic with her, not as a couple but as a dominant and her submissive, it never failed to fluster you. Wanda was softer when you shared intimate moments outside of your dynamic. She still never let you top, but she was more lenient in giving in. Her being so firm with you had only cemented in your mind that she knew what you wanted, and the entire day leading up to you warming her strap had been merely a game to her. 

“Mmhm.” She had hummed haphazardly in response, and her hands had still been settled roughly on your hips but her eyes had left yours to trail over the documents that splayed across her desk in messy highlighted piles. You hadn’t had the slightest clue as to what she was really doing, but the rare sight of her so disorganized had felt serious. “And since you didn’t use your words, what happens?” 

You had whined and shook your head in a pleading protest, not wanting to lose your voice when you knew exactly what you wanted. Wanda hadn’t folded at your soft whine, she’d done the exact opposite. The tips of her fingers had pulled your hips down harder against the toy buried deep within your weeping walls, and the head of the dildo had nudged against your softest spot and made your torso fall slack against her chest. “Y-You decide what happens.” You’d finally forced the words into the space between your bodies, and it was rewarded with a sharp thrust of her hips that drove the strap-on further into your pussy. 

“That’s right. What should I decide, hm? I think I’d like to have my pretty little girl warm my strap for a while. What do you think about that idea?” She hadn’t really been asking you. You would’ve been condemned to the same fate even if you’d said no, but you found yourself nodding your head at her question despite how horrible it sounded to sit with your aching cunt filled with pleasure it couldn’t fully claim. “Good girl. Now settle down, Mommy has work to do that little girls shouldn't even be in here to see.” She had guided your head down onto her shoulder, forcing you into near complete darkness before her hands left your hips and returned to the stacks of important documents on her desk. 

You’d tried to remain still, knowing it was what she wanted and she’d have to reward your good behavior at some point, but as the minutes ticked by slower and slower not only did your core demand attention, your bladder demanded relief. The wiggling of your hips hadn’t been reprimanded when the movements started. Wanda had only hummed and shifted beneath you, easing the strap-on into a new position that did nothing for your desperate need to pee. She’d been keeping good on her promise of getting you to drink more water, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the exact predicament she had wanted you in when she forced you to finish an entire glass in the kitchen. Surely it wasn’t. Surely she didn’t want you squirming on her lap from sensations that weren’t caused by her, that wouldn’t make any sense. 

When your wiggling became more frantic and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to moan out in ecstasy or sob in frustration, Wanda sighed and dropped her pen onto the stack of papers that she’d very nearly gotten through completely. Your full and sensitive bladder made the strap-on drenched with arousal feel so much better. Every time Wanda inhaled too deeply or exhaled too sharply, you felt every grove of the cock rub against your walls. The sensation was sharp, fleeting, but embarrassingly addicting and you found yourself trying to replicate little actions that provoked it. Wanda wasn’t as unaware of your intentions as you’d hoped, and when you wiggled a bit too harshly in her lap, finally being rewarded with the quick burst of pleasure, her fingers found your hips again and stilled them just as quickly as she did the first time. 

“Keep still.” She sighed her demand, keeping her tone unbothered which only further provoked your desperation. It was always particularly hot when she acted as though your body writhing against hers had no effect on her. Despite leaving her pen to sit abandoned on the desk, you hadn’t felt her eyes burn into your skin throughout the entire exchange. Your face was still pressed into her neck, hiding in the darkness that you hoped would make this situation less humiliating. 

When you finally had the courage to look up at her, unable to keep yourself still any longer, you cupped her cheeks and directed her attention onto you. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You whispered softly, beyond humiliated with the reluctant admission. Your face turned a flush shade of pink that Wanda thought complemented your eyes perfectly, and you knew you had her full attention when her pupils dilated just the farthest bit more. There was hardly any green left in her stare, but you clung to what little color remained. 

“What was that, little one? Mommy couldn’t hear you.” Wanda pouted her lips, her eyes filled with innocent confusion that wasn’t at all authentic. She’d heard you perfectly clear, you were too close to her face for the words to have fallen short before they met her ears, but she wasn’t letting go of your hips without a further explanation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold yourself together for. 

“I have to pee.” You said just the faintest bit louder, hoping your pleading eyes would be enough to convey the desperation you felt within your weeping core and taut bladder. You felt so incredibly full, and every time you took a breath that feeling only intensified. 

“Oh, well you can hold it just a little bit longer I’m sure. Mommy’s almost done.” Wanda smiled a sweet sympathetic smile, the grip on your hips slowly becoming softer as she let the pads of her thumb soothe the aching skin with tight soft circles you wished would land somewhere else. 

“I can’t.” You pleaded with her to understand just how badly you had to go, you’d already been holding it for so long trying to make her proud. Wanda frowned at your plea, her cherry tinted lips the only thing you could focus on. 

“Well that’s too bad, milaya.” She said simply, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner that made your walls clench and your clit throb. “Try harder for Mommy, I’m sure you can do it.” She conceded when your frown didn’t waver, and ever so softly she pecked your lips before things went back to how they were before you’d interrupted her. Your head was guided back down onto her shoulder, and her hands went back to work shuffling through documents that you could only assume she was annotating. 

Another half hour had passed before you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore. You’d lasted longer than you’d anticipated with her full you felt, but the end was in sight as the muscles in your belly fought vicious wars to keep your dignity. You were so close to the edge that even Wanda’s gentle breathing felt like pin pricks against your spine. As your need to relieve yourself grew more intense, so did the coil in your belly that seemed to find fuel in your desperation. A soft cry tumbled past your lips before the dam broke and the coil snapped. You dampened her lap with more than just arousal, and the wet feeling that spread across hers and your thighs only made you cry harder. Moans tumbled past your lips when your cries fell short, and it became a desperate attempt to both seek harder pressure against your clit and get completely away from the wetness that was quickly becoming cold against yours and her naked skin. 

“Oh baby, did you have an accident?” Wanda cooed sympathetically, not even having to look down at your glazed over eyes to know what headspace you’d tumbled into. Your cries weren’t one of pain, nor were they really ones of frustration either. You weeped with humiliation and the desperate need to finally be spoken to. She’d been merely answering you all day, no ounce of elaboration in the short sentences shared. You needed your Mommy, and Wanda wasn’t going to deny you that any longer when you’d been so good for her. Granted, the accident hadn’t been a part of her plan. She’d only intended to make you hold yourself, but she couldn’t deny that it was hot, though a little uncomfortable to be sitting in a cold and wet chair. Despite wanting to get away from the mess, Wanda remained in her chair and devoted her attention to you. In truth, she’d finished her paperwork twenty minutes ago, she’d just been waiting for you to finally break. “Why didn’t you tell Mommy you needed to go potty, silly girl?” 

The words weren’t fully registering in your head, every noise felt miles away and muffled by thick cotton on your ears. If you’d been in a sounder mind, you would have snapped your gaze up to her so quickly that your neck would’ve broken, but that never came. You’d warned her as well as you could that if she didn’t let you up this would happen, but she had taken her chances and the outcome had been exactly what you’d expected. Wanda hummed soothingly when you burrowed your face into her shoulder and your mouth went to work on the little bits of skin that were available beside the collar of her t-shirt. The cock still in your pussy was the farthest thing from your mind, but when Wanda shifted you into her arms so she could finally stand and move away from your accident, you whined at the sensation of your full cunt being empty for the first time in hours. 

“Shh, it’s okay, malen’kaya. You’re okay.” Even in Natasha’s absence the Sokovian spoke Russian. She had no real connection to her native language that had died when her brother did, and whatever she said to you in this moment would fall upon deaf ears anyway. It didn’t matter what language she let fall past her lips, all that you could comprehend in this state was that your Mommy’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and she was so cruelly pulling something away the only thing that had been with you for hours. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up. Just be patient with Mommy.” Leaving her office chair to be handled at a different time, she honestly might just order a new one, having no intense attachment to the black swivel chair that’s only purpose was to sit on, Wanda carried you back into the master bedroom.

She made quick work of undressing you, soothing your whines of protest when the cold air ambushed your flush and warm skin. Your shorts and panties had been discarded on the floor of her office, so all she had to strip you out of was one of Natasha’s old t-shirts that you had found in the back of the closet and adamantly adored. You reached for her throughout the entire process, a far away look in your eyes as you barely even registered her face coming so close to yours that her breath splayed across your lips. She kissed you softly, capturing your full attention as you returned the embrace, all the while her hands were pulling the piss soaked strap-on off of her hips and away from her core that throbbed to be dealt with, but she could handle the unsatisfied ache. Unlike you, Wanda was particularly fond of edging, the only problem that came with her interest was she never relinquished control for long enough to ever have it be done to her. 

You huffed when she pulled away from your lips in favor of throwing her t-shirt onto the floor with the already existing pile of your own clothes. She left you laying alone in the center of the bed, making a mental note to throw the comforter in the washer before any of you tried to sleep beneath them later on, and walked into the en-suite bathroom. She drew a nice bath, taking the extra minutes to add your favorite bath bomb into the warm water and light the few candles that remained around the edge of the tub. Bubbles were a must, you demanded them every time either of the redheads even suggested taking a bath, so while the water was still running Wanda added them to the tub as well. You didn’t like a hot bath, a fact that you had been sure to tell Natasha when she’d first tried to lower you into an aftercare session with one, so Wanda figured she had plenty of time to go back and collect you while the water cooled down some more. She could already see the bath bomb coloring the water pink as she left, and she knew both yours and her skin would smell like strawberries and vanilla once you crawled out and dried off. 

You had come back to yourself the faintest bit when Wanda re-entered the bedroom. You’d curled up onto your side, your head resting on one of your arms as you let your eyes remain closed. At the sound of her gentle footsteps, wide eyes still glassy shot open and searched for her. Unlike the state you’d been in when she left to run the bath, you were able to recognize her presence now and you made that very clear. “Mommy!” You cried, a fresh set of tears brimming your eyes as you reached a single hand out to her. Wanda kneeled down in front of the bed, gently taking your hand in hers and kissing it softly.

The hand that wasn’t occupied reach out to brush strands of fallen hair away from your face, and as expected, when she ran the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip, your tongue shot out to lick at it before soft lips claimed it entirely. Wanda smiled fondly, her other fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “Privet, moya milaya devochka.” 

You were still too far gone to comprehend the Russian sentence that you had become familiar with, but that didn’t bother Wanda who hadn’t been expecting a response in the first place. You were falling out of your head fairly quickly, and she worried that your humiliation was the leading factor in your unwillingness to let the fog linger fully. 

“Left.” You croaked pitifully around the soft weight of her thumb in your mouth, your wide eyes desperate for her to understand the message you were trying to convey and not let it happen again. 

“I didn’t leave.” Wanda shook her head firmly, placing another kiss to the top of your hand that curled around hers tightly, unwilling to let go for even a single second. You were always clingy when she got you in this state, and she adored every second of it. “Mommy ran us a bath. We’ve gotta get cleaned up.” She promised you, and at the mention of one of your favorite activities, your torso shot up from the bed and her hand fell away from your face. You wobbled in your disoriented and fuzzy state, leaning into her touch when she reached out to stabilize you. “Come on, sweetheart. There are bubbles waiting for you!” 

Wanda helped you into the bathroom, easing herself into the tub before she helped you over the edge and into her arms. You didn’t go for her fingers like she’d anticipated, merely wiggling your way down in her embrace until your head fell onto the swell of her breast. Not wanting to question you when you were so sensitive, Wanda merely dragged her hand across the inside of your thigh as you sat sideways in her lap, transfixed on the sharp edge of her jaw that clenched when you got too far into her head. She’d have to remember to thank Natasha for pushing to get the bigger tub when they’d remodeled the bathroom years ago, it was certainly coming in handy now. Your body was washed with tender touches, the loofa used a light blue color and saturated in Wanda’s own body wash. She didn’t know why you continued to buy your own, when the only one who ended up using it was her after you’d taken the last of hers. 

It was a comfortable silence that fell over the both of you as the bath water slowly became colder and colder, and with each minute that passed in combination with Wanda’s gentle stroking of your hip or your cheeks, you fell firmly beneath the blanket of fuzzy emptiness that you’d been fighting off before. You felt so loved and so cared for, there wasn’t a single thought in your mind beside her. The humiliation of your accident had waned away, replaced by only flourishing warmth. 

Eventually, your lips began to root around for something to suckle on. Wanda’s fingers hadn’t moved to your mouth quick enough, and your tongue sought out the first soft thing that it could find. A gasp fell from Wanda’s lips when you took her sensitive nipple into your mouth, a sharp sensation shooting through her body that was in no way sexual. She’d always had her speculations about this kind of contact, but now that she had it for herself to experience, she understood. She had all of your mind in her hands at this moment, but you had all of her body. It was a delicate balance that further emphasized how your relationship could only thrive if all parties were equal and respected. Wanda trailed a soft finger over the bridge of your nose, her own scrunching up in admiration. 

“Find something you like, little one?” She teased, but there was no bite behind her words as she gently adjusted your latch to be more comfortable for the both of you. The bath water was officially cold, no longer able to be passed off as warm, but Wanda would allow you to sit in it just this once. She was always such a stickler for crawling out of the tub when the water went cold, but even she didn’t want to leave the intimacy of this moment as your eyes fluttered closed and your tongue made gentle sweeps across her nipple. “You did so good for me. So so good. Mommy’s so proud of you. My good girl.” She whispered delicate praise into the otherwise quiet bathroom, her eyes appreciating how the dim candle light made your glassy eyes glow like a fire had been placed behind them. 

She could faintly hear the front door open downstairs and she smiled knowing that Natasha had finally made it home. It wasn’t often that the Russian went into the office alone, but today had worked out weirdly and Wanda wouldn’t trade it for anything. Natasha had noticed how quiet the house was upon entering, and she tried her best not to disturb the stillness that you and Wanda had created. She took the stairs one at a time, peeking into Wanda’s office when she noticed the door was oddly ajar. Wanda either had the door firmly closed or entirely open, it was never left in the half-opened state it was now. Two pairs of shorts and the puddle on the floor told her everything she needed to know about what had happened while she was away at work. Anticipating your blissed out headspace and Wanda’s full hands, Natasha cleaned the scene, still dressed in business slacks and an off-white satin blouse. The chair had been scrubbed and sanitized, and the floor had been given the same treatment in only a matter of minutes. There was no need to buy a new chair now, and memories of this afternoon would linger in the room anytime either one of you set your sight on it. 

Natasha carried yours and Wanda’s shorts back into the bedroom. She picked up the pile of clothes that had been left on the floor, adding them to the laundry basket they kept hidden away in the closet before her own clothes were thrown on top. She dressed quickly, able to hear the one-sided conversation that was happening on the other side of the wall. 

“Daddy’s home.” Wanda cooed sweetly to you, her eyes filled with gentle love and admiration that felt so full she wanted to cry. You barely heard her words, and if you did, you didn’t fully comprehend them, but she didn’t expect you to. “She’ll be so proud of how good you were for Mommy. The best little duckling.” 

Natasha had decided then to make her presence known, two big and cozy towels in her hands. The initial sight of you and Wanda together had shocked her, her eyes transfixed on where her wife’s nipple was in your mouth, but she didn’t make it a big deal. Lowering herself onto the tile floor beside the tub, placing the towels just out of what she deemed the splash zone, the Russian reached out gently to caress your still flush cheeks. 

“How did this happen?” Natasha questioned Wanda, keeping her voice soft so as to not disturb you when you looked so content and fulfilled. The scent of strawberry and vanilla clung to the air in the bathroom, enough for Natasha to know that one of your favorite bath bombs had been thrown into the tub. 

“She’s down deep.” Wanda merely hummed, leaning over the edge of the tub to lay her lips against Natasha’s. “It was the first thing she found when she decided she needed something in her mouth.” Wanda laughed softly, the vibrations jostling her breasts much to your displeasure. Your hand fell onto the swell of her breast, keeping it still as you suckled contently despite the near interruption. 

“I can’t say I blame her.” Natasha teasingly pinched at Wanda’s nipple, not missing the way the Sokovian’s eyes fluttered closed and she chased the sensation when it was pulled away. Wanda had sensitive nipples, it was a known fact that Natasha loved to abuse, but something about this moment with you just felt entirely pure and wholesome. “Let me be the bad guy and get her out. You’re freezing.” Natasha frowned when she noticed just how cold to the touch Wanda’s skin was. She grabbed at you instantly, noticing that the sections of your skin that had been submerged in the water were just as cold as Wanda’s. 

You whined in protest when you were pulled away from Wanda’s chest and wrapped up like a little bug in the towel that Natasha had brought into the bathroom for you. Natasha didn’t bat an eye at your pitiful whimpering, carrying out of the bathroom and toward the guest bedroom when she gathered the hint that the comforter needed to be washed before any of you laid beneath it that night. It was scary how in tune she and Wanda could be at times, but you weren’t fully present enough to comment on their freaky telepathy. 

Natasha got you dressed into a pair of summer pajamas that still occupied the guest room from when you’d first started spending the night. Your clothes occupied nearly every room at this point, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored the little traces of your presence that popped up at random moments, which might be the reason why she no longer scolds you for leaving your shoes in every corner of the house despite the large collection at the front door. By the time you're beneath the blankets in the guest bed, Wanda’s coming into the room in a pair of pajama shorts, though she’s still void of a shirt. 

“Giving in so easily, moya lyubov’? And here I thought you were the strict one.” Natasha teased, knowing fully what Wanda had intended on when she purposefully left the matching top in the drawer where the shorts used to lay. 

“I introduced her to a lot today. I’m not going to try and get her to take my fingers when I know that’s not what she wants.” Wanda merely shrugged, allowing her soft heart to bleed into her words for the briefest minute before she was slipping back into the headspace you craved. “Come here, my little duckling. Let’s get you all comfy.” Wanda pulled your body into hers, guiding your lips down to her chest. Her nipple was sensitive, sore from the earlier abuse, but she didn’t mind the sting of pain that came when your lips wrapped firmly around her skin. “You did so good today, milaya. So good.” 

Natasha curled herself around Wanda, keeping you close between the both of them. It wasn’t long before your lips fell slack around Wanda’s nipple and your breathing evened out. Wanda and Natasha smiled down at you endearingly, deciding there was no harm in taking a little nap after the day that they'd had.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff smut #daddy natasha #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat fluff #wandanat smut #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

[peach-arcade]

Tag Dump PT 2!

#so go ahead and judge me/for talking about my pain/I’d rather spill my guts out/than live with being fake | Writer/Tali #I’m gonna live loud/until there’s no breath left in me/I’m gonna live through hell/so I’m left with no regrets | Sun Wukong/Glow #won’t leave it unsaid/until I drop dead | musings #it may not be a lot right now/but I promise you now/that when we get to talking we can drown out all the sound | ship musings #I wanna see the real you/everything you love to do | Peach Arcade #the end of our journey is on repeat/but I won’t let that ever stop me | Reincarated Verse #ink on the skin/a sort of tie that just won’t win | Soulmates Verse #caught up to the present/living in the moment | Mainverse #somewhere among the stars/that’s where our journeys are | Unspecified Verse #peaceful life in uproar/welcome to the starting score | Season One Verse #to defeat ultimate evil/find the ultimate weapon | Season Two Verse #a new journey’s just begun/gather the rings that burn brighter than the sun | Season Three Verse

[m1d-45]

for all to see

summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…

word count: ~1.2k

-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.

trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.

obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.

nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.

however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.

‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’

“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”

you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…

you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.

“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”

you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.

“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”

the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.

he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”

how?

furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…

behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.

“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“

“silence.”

he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?

“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”

“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“

“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”

he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..

black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.

“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”

neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.

he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.

this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?

he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.

you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.

the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.

he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—

rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette angst #genshin angst #sagau angst #genshin impact angst #gender neutral reader #hi. i have been watching miraculous ladybug and have not devoted any time to genshin. uhm.