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chronicallyonline101 · 8 months ago

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OH WAIITERRR!!! May i have your finest glass of leone abbacchio x reader pretty please! One where the reader finds Abbacchio beat up on the curbside only to find out he got into some kind of bar fight! So she pulls up and is like "Again??! Get in," and takes him home, patches him up, FLUFFY STUFF!! WITH A CHERRY ON TOP

ORDER UP!!! Here is your glass i do hope you enjoy! (i wrote this on mobile so if the formatting is weird thas why soz pooks(

Nights of White Satin

Leone Abbacchio x reader || Oneshot, Fluff

You traced your thumb along the bottom of his bruised lip; bloody, illuminated by nothing but an old, flickering streetlamp in the midst of a sad, gloomy night. His purple lipstick had long since worn off, but the mottled blue's of his injuries did well to replace it. Despite how you tried to peer at him, his eyes always managed to evade yours - glued to the ground in what was a mixture of shame and fury welling together in an ombre cocktail.

Cars flew by behind you. Tires screeching against wet concrete, the thrum of engines and splashing puddles but none of it mattered. You fixated on the man in front of you with clear concern. Concern that only had him biting his cheek with disinterest.

"Leone... what happened?" You leant closer to him, a frown settled across your lips as you gently moved your hand to cup at his delicate cheek and redirect his gaze toward yourself.

For a moment, Abbacchio allowed himself the comfort of your presence; leaning into your touch like a feline starved of affection, but when your fingers brushed across a stinging open wound he hissed in a breath through his teeth and reeled backward. Now grounded, he reprimanded himself for getting so comfortable and took to curling his hands into fists.

"It's nothing," He grouched, turning his gaze to the floor once again. "Just some work things. You know how it is."

You leant back a little, swallowing thickly. Of course... Abbacchio's 'work'. The thing you would call organised criminal activity was just a normal Tuesday for him - to no avail, looking at him here, sat in the gutter with a broken wine bottle to his side... you felt that perhaps what had happened was less serious than what he was making it out to be.

With a short, frustrated huff, you stood upright. Hands on your hips as you looked up wistfully. The sky was clouded, not that it mattered; you could never see the stars in the city, but the sight of such gloom reminded you of how unsafe it was to be on these streets of Napoli late into the night.

"You got into another fight again, didn't you?"

He winced at your question. Tensing when he felt your gaze turn accusatory. There was no way he could deny it. The amount of times you'd find him in this condition - or worse - had made such a task impossible. Instead, he let out a groan and while burying his head into his hands mumbled:

"He made fun of my hair."

His words were followed by a shameful silence.

You sighed, pinching at your temple before decidely shoving a hand into your pocket and fumbling about for your car keys. Abbacchio lifted his gaze to watch you. After a few seconds, you pried the jangling things from your pocket and pressed at a button to unlock your car which had been hastily parked atop of a curb only a few feet away.

You turned toward the vehicle with a fervent urgency. "Come on then."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment he remained still, watching with an intense glower while you clicked open the door to the drivers seat and hopped inside.

Upon realising he hadn't followed, you honked the car horn at him with urgency. It was with that, he slowly arose to his feet; wobbling unsteadily for a few seconds. Glass crunched beneath his shoes as he walked toward the passenger seat to your car, and as he took his place beside you.

You stuffed the key into the ignition, twisted, and soon the two of you were off. At first, the atmosphere in the car was silent. Filled only by the gentle rumbling of its engine, but it was too much for Abbacchio. Silence meant thought, and right now he didn't want to deal with his thoughts.

So he spoke: "What are you doing?"

"Taking you home." A small huff left your nose, condensating against the cold air. Your grip around the wheel tightened, praying to anything out there that he would drop it at that.

You wanted to help him, but he was so damn stubborn. When his brows rose in distress, you knew he'd put up a fight:

"You don't know where I live." He griped, and crossed his arms over his chest in disobedience. He cocked his head in the direction of the window, watching with hazy yellowish eyes as the flashing world passed by.

Another sigh passed your lips as you admitted defeat. "My home. We're going to my home, Leone."

"Why? I don't want to---"

"---I'm trying to help you. Please... let me help."

For a moment, you risked peeling your eyes away from the road. Wide and pleading, you watched longingly while he glared out the window beside him. His silver hair glimmered prettily against the night sky; the moons shadow befell him like a cotton blanket and even in a roughed up, bloody state he was so... perfect. So radiant. An image of tragedy yet glowing with hope.

"Your my friend." You decidely went on. "And I like you."

And at your words, Abbacchio bit into his bottom lip to hide a whimper of utter sorrow.

A friend. His friend. You were his friend.

The venomous thorns of guilt coiled around his heart like a snake; he was wreaked with shame. You were so good to him, such a kind, loving person and here he was - a criminal. A delinquent.

How many times had you found him at the side of the road? How many times had you welcomed him into the warmth of your home? Bathed his wounds in salt? Patched him up with a hug and a pat on the back?

It was sickening, to think of how often you opened your heart to him and how little he gave back. Every night he found himself here with you he put you in danger, it was cruel and selfish, and yet he loved every second of it. As nonchalant as he tried to be, he loved the attention you gave him.

Such is why, though he grumbled and complained, he never once stopped you from taking him home. Never halted his footing as he traipsed along behind you and never snatched your housekeys from your palms; he watched curiously all the while you welcomed him into your abode, sitting with compliance on your couch as you ushered about in the dark to try and a first aid kit.

When you finally settled down beside him, there was a small cotton ball clutched between your fingers. Doused in isopropyl alcohol; you lifted it up to gently press at an open wound. He winced and flinched backward,

"You need to stop getting into these fights." You tutted at him, relocating the cotton ball to his lip where you then cleared away his smudging lipstick.

There was a huff, but he moatly stayed silent. Leaning into your touch. Your eyes lifted to meet his, curious and attentive; he swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing against the curve of his neck. The room grew warm while you held each others glaze, and with a light, awkward cough you broke away from the stare to dash the now red cotton ball to the side.

"Did you get hurt badly?"

He scoffed, turning his head to look to the side. "No. I left him worse for wear."

There was a short laugh. A rare sound, coming from him; and though it was quiet, it was honest. It told you he wasn't as grumpy as he made himself out to be and at that, you smiled.

"Mm. I feel bad. Maybe I should go back and help him out too, eh?" You laughed at your own joke, reaching down to grab at some gauze for his wounds.

You heard him grunt above you and failed to notice the expression of discomfort that befell his face. "I'd rather you stay, actually... I like you being here."

You paused. Lifting yourself up to look him in the eyes, brow quirked in a smug perplexion.

"You like it when I patch you up?" You leant closer to him; you could feel his breath fanning against your face, his breath once again hitching at your sudden closeness. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

His lips parted for a moment. He thought that perhaps you were going to go further. That maybe, you'd press your lips to his... but you didn't. He was left sourly dissapointed when instead you took to pressing the gauze against his wounded cheek.

"I do." He mumbled.

He went quiet, after that. Growing shy, unsure of himself or what he was even saying. He was pretty drunk, to be fair; he'd likely regret how mushy he was getting, but right now he was happy. He was content. His body ached like a battered banana, but every touch your fingers danced upon his fair skin had him leaning closer with serenity.

When you were done cleaning him up you packed away the first aid kit and he watched for a while as you teetered about putting things away and preparing both of you tea. He hovered behind you for a while and once you were done, wormed his way into your bed; the two of you shared it for the night because, well, he was injured and needed the bed and it was stupid to let you get a bad back on the couch because of stupid societal norms regarding bed sharing. And if he did reach out to hold you in the night, so what?

Abbacchio liked you a lot. He hated having you worry for him so much, but... he also loved how you treated him. It was gentle. Loving; thing's he could never have as a skilled mafioso. It was selfish for him to seek you out like this but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't stop. He'd get into more bar fights, he'd find himself in more scuffles and at the end of each day, he'd find himself in your house; your embrace; he'd find himself wrapped in your love.

(I HOPE THIS IS GOOD!!! IF NOT I CAN CHANGE IT PLS LMK!!!! to the ppl that sent in the Kira and Melone reqs I'm almost done with them! :) im just being lazy)

#Leone Abbacchio #Leone Abbacchio x reader #Abbacchio x reader #jjba part 5 #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #leone abbacchio fluff #jjba x reader #x reader

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krispycreamcake · 1 year ago

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Diabolik lovers x reader (various)

Guys don't bully me this is my first post istg i'll bomb your family

A symphony of explosions ruptured through the sky as the angels above blew their mighty vessels of war. Forks of lightning licked through the heavens, warning those near and far of the impending eruption soon to blast their ear drums. The cascading shower hydrated the manor's old stone walls, grasping at whatever cracks they could get into, only to slip away from the house's embrace at the last second. The moon nor its many luminous companions could be seen as their everlasting beauty was hidden behind storm clouds. A whirlwind soon picked up, shaking the trees like a damned mad woman, soon to be lobotomized. Amidst all this eternal chaos however, was a girl simply trying to survive. She was just dropped off at a glorious mansion that ironically, seemed to hold a sort of deathly allure to it, despite it being right out of a romance novel. She was currently sitting on a royal blue sofa of the finest quality, a strange and perplexed looking man with spectacles adorned the couch opposite her. He had raven black and white ombre hair. Regardless of their contrasting colours, it seemed to take well on him. He gave off a sophisticated but yet also suffocating aura that seemed to envelop the entire room. He looked at you in a bit of a shock after hearing your story, no matter how hard he tried to remain stoic, the words you spoke completely baffled him.

"Would you please further elaborate on what you mean by 'caretaker'?" The man asked, the words barely leaving his tongue.

"Well uhm, like I said, I'll be staying here until an heir to the Sakamaki name is made and then I'll be their caretaker. Mr. Karlheinz specified that he'd prefer I raise the child because well.... He didn't technically state WHY I'm supposed to basically mother your child, besides I-I mean you seem perfectly capable! It's just that, well that's what I was sent here to do". You said, trying to explain your task as quickly as possible. You couldn't pinpoint why, but an urge to leave planted itself in your gut and you felt the need to end this interaction as soon as possible.

The man stayed silent for a second before humming out an acknowledgement to your statement. The air was tense as he stood up and spoke.

"Well then, I'm not sure why we weren't aware of something like this, however, let me be the first to greet you to the Sakamaki manor y/n." Just as he said that, a young man with a head of scorching flames entered. His appearance was tattered and unruly. A pant leg was up, while the other remained down, his shirt wasn't fully buttoned and his tie was worn tied around his neck like some sort of odd fashion statement. As soon as his emerald eyes locked onto yours, a smirk creeped its way onto his face.

"Oi Reiji, you didn't say nothin about us having a guest over." The boy spoke, his voice gnarled and sharp.

"I was unaware of her arrival, that man apparently sent us a.....babysitter." Reiji sighed at the end, his imminent frustration growing.

"Uh no no- it's not like that! I'm just here to take care of your child..well future child. I didn't know you had a brother though, Reiji.." You piped in, your brows knitting in a slight confusion as you weren't informed of Karl having more than one son. You originally thought that his son and daughter-in-law were too busy to take care of a child, so that's why you agreed to this whole thing. But now that you were thinking about it, where exactly was the girl? Your thoughts were interrupted as the ruby haired boy let out a mocking snort.

"You mean to tell me that the old man didn't mention there being six of us? pfft- hah!" The boy spoke. Your heart almost plummeted into your ass as your mind slowly processed his words. Six??? There were six of them?

"Yes I'll have to agree with Ayato. It's odd that man didn't mention there's six of us." Reiji said as he fixed his glasses. "Well in that case, it seems an introduction should be made as soon as possible." As he finished speaking, a slight gush of wind hit you from all different angles. Suddenly four more men appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. They watched you coldly despite them all seeming to have different personalities. Silently judging you...no- not judging, but instead sizing you up. You've been in this situation enough times to know what men's stares mean, and these men wanted nothing good. The boy with purple hair spoke first.

"Teddy- what do you think of our new plaything? Doesn't she look lovely? I wonder what she tastes like, certainly not as good as Yui, but I'd still like to try." For the third time tonight you felt like you could scream. He wasn't being serious was he? This has to be some sort of persona, why would he even say that?? You inched behind Reiji, hoping the man could provide some form of shelter.

"Tsk. Go on and introduce yourself, or do I need to do that for you as well? Hiding behind me like a coward, slinking away the minute things seem to get too troublesome for you....honestly I have no idea why you were selected to come here in the first place. What does that man even see in you?" Reiji said with a scoff, his cold words leaving a shiver down your spine and a dent in your self esteem. You felt embarrassed as you sheepishly crawled away from Reiji to introduce yourself.

Once formalities were finally over with a few weird remark here and there, you were shown to your room. It was quite large, but you expected nothing less after seeing the size of the mansion. Truthfully, you were hoping to have a nice room this entire time. A dome glass ceiling sat right in the middle of the room, illuminating it with a blueish hue. The positioning of the bed was a bit odd, yet it captivated those who were to occupy in the residence. It was a circular bed that was laid with golden satin sheets and a marble platform which held up the delicate mattress. It stood right under the dome which would serve for lovely stargazing. There were many fine intricacies and details done to the bed's platform which made it seem much more compelling than a regular bed. The room was oddly laden with bookshelves and hanging plants. This seemed to soften up the room's regality and tone it down for someone of a more modern time. But you admitted that you wouldn't of mind sleeping in a princess like bedroom. Once you were done unpacking, you made your way downstairs since no one would be up at this hour. Instead, you were met with all brothers and a young blonde. She was delicately beautiful like a rose garden after a storm. You could feel her personality seep through from her meek behaviour. You did wonder though, who'd be the father if there were six of them? But before you could ponder the situation anymore, you noticed they were all in uniform despite it being night. You do recall that Karl mentioned they kept a bit of a peculiar schedule, but even so, is this really what he meant? School at night? You supposed it wasn't too weird for people of such high status to be so busy during the day that they'd have to go to school at night. But even so, how could a human possibly function like this? They'd all be braindead zombies by now, strange was definitely one of the many words to describe this lot.

"As we were late to know of your arrival, we hadn't planned for you to be joining us. Since you lack proper attire, you'll be staying back tonight." Reiji spoke almost exasperatedly. You almost felt a bit scared to stay in such an usual place by yourself. Reiji caught the look on your face and clicked his tongue.

"You truly think we'd let you stay here by yourself? One of us is going to remain here with you until the others are back." Reiji said bluntly. Who was it that was going to babysit you while they were away? Maybe this was your chance to learn more about your new housemates. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for your possible sitter. Then, in an instant you both made eye contact. Both orbs absorbed in each other as the others in the room seemed to be nothing more than an afterthought.

Ok so this is just part one of the series I'm planning. I'll let you guys vote on who it was that caught the reader's attention. TY for reading this btw :( I've been obsessed with this franchise since I was 11 so I'm insane currently.

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nualaofthefaerie · 6 months ago

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i would love to read something so 🎭☀️❤️ and no other requests. THANK YOU!

One Day of Progress

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Sky Young x Mel Medarda x Viktor

Request: Canon-compliant Hexquad Fluff

SUMMARY: After everything you both had been through; the pain, the torment, the utter longing, you and Jayce can only find your love leftover in the post-war rubble and go on to find various ways to show each other that your love is truly enough.

TAGS: tooth-rotting fluff, suggestive thoughts but nothing explicit happens, mmff, established relationship

MASTERLIST | AO3 version | WORDCOUNT: 1,562 words |

A/N: I will slowly get through all the requests. The drabble gifts are still open though. I LOVE doing these.

8:12 AM

“The weather is expected to peak at 26 degrees today in most parts of the country. So, don’t be tempted to overdress.”

TV static was drowned by noise of running water in the bathroom and a cattle burning on the stove. An old, chipped beige mug with golden edges around the handle, an almost identical one in black, made of fine china, a see through glass with an ombre purple handle and a tulip at the bottom and a stained white cup leftover from last years ‘Progress Day’ were patiently placed next to the heated coffee maker, waiting to fulfill their purpose.

Four mugs perfectly in sync.

A lot of things were perfectly in sync in the two bedroom apartment nested at the heart of Piltover. For example, the four toothbrushes bought in packs of two - Mel and Viktor shared a golden/black design, while Sky and Jayce sported a silly pack of swirly blues and reds. Or the books on the shelf in the living room ordered in several distinct sections - Jayce’s theoretical non-fiction, Sky’s classic collection, Mel’s leather clad volumes of poems and Viktor’s philosophy relics, put together by owner and size, except no one would be able to tell where Jayce began or Viktor ended, simply because they were…one.

They had been one for a while.

“One of us needs to wake him up.” Viktor slouched over the newspaper, making a rather weak attempt to skim across the headline before discarding it on the table. There was no point in pretending to read before coffee.

“When did he come home?” Sky jumped up and down trying to squeeze in tights she hadn’t worn since she became an assistant seeing as she would have to wear a skirt that morning. Someone had come home late and not done their laundry chore. It wasn’t her.

“Six.” Mel pressed her lips to Sky’s collarbone, still in her bedrobe. “I poked the bear last time. Someone else’s turn.” they both turned to Viktor with a particularly mischievous glimmer in their eyes.

“I am making coffee.” he noted, desperately trying to avoid the task of waking Jayce up.

“Coffee does itself.”

Sly fox.

“He is always so…” An over exaggerated sigh escaped his lips, yet he reached for his cane and pulled himself up. There was no use wasting air over a task that inherently belonged to him. No matter how passionately he did not wish to do it.

“Difficult?” Mel quirked a brow.

“Whiny?” Sky turned her head to one side.

“...cranky when he’s woken up.” Viktor contained a laugh.

He was all three to be fair.

The curtains in the bedroom had been pulled back, lending the loudly sleeping Jayce his much needed illusion of pitch darkness. Contrary to what he would usually do (cuddle in the corner) he had spread across the entire bed, laying on his stomach, everyone’s sheets kicked to the floor. It was undeniably warm to be fair.

No part of the last seven days had been kind to the charming face of progress. It was not enough that the council pressed for discoveries that simply required more time than given, but he also had to be the poster boy for the nobles coming from all parts of Runeterra to celebrate Progress Day.

The council's worries had been soothed by Mel and Heimerdinger’s, but even they couldn't do anything about the social engagements he was forced to attend. He'd murmur he's a scientist and not a celebrity and still spend the entire night with people Mel found barely tolerable. Although, to be fair, he was devilishly good at appealing to their egos without them ever coming close to him as a human being. It gathered investors, it made people believe in Hextech while Viktor and Sky obsessed over cracking the last of the runes.

All that to lead them to their current quandary - how to wake the prince of Progress? Mel used a rather simple approach - she would pepper his face with kisses until he woke up. After a while however that approach failed to produce the necessary results as all of them always turned out…late. Instead, she now just opened the curtains and let the light inside until he groaned and got up.

Sky could never be quite that audacious. She'd crouch by the bed, stroke his hair and whisper something sweet until he woke up. Albeit, a lot more naive, it produced the same results as Mel's. She was now too scared of derailing their schedules to go near an oversleeping Jayce.

Viktor made up for all of that. For ten years, he had cracked the proper method of waking Jayce Talis up.

His cane poked at his partner's lower back.

“Get up.” Viktor smirked when his partner just winced and turned to the other side. “Do not push your luck, pretty boy. Get up.” the next poke was on his calf. Jayce moaned, jerked his leg in the other direction and remained sound asleep. His hair had grown past his cheekbones, hiding his relaxed expression and the beard grown out of seven sleepless nights concealed the pout on his lips. "Last chance or the cane will land on your thick head.”

The loud growl that escaped Jayce's lips as he raised lazily on his elbows, back muscles flexing, twitched something dangerous inside of Viktor. Perhaps, it was not the girls that provoked him into a sensual morning, perhaps it was him tired and naked who was the catalyst. And perhaps on a different occasion Viktor wouldn't mind indulging in Jayce Talis and being late.

That wasn't that morning.

“It's so early…” Jayce hit his head against the pillow.

“It is certainly very late.” Viktor spared him the lecture on why coming home at six was a generally bad idea. He would be one to speak. Hypocritical to say the least. He sat next to him instead, fingers lazily stroking along the curve of his back.

“...urgh.” Jayce shuddered under his lover's touch. Half-baked indecent thoughts gathered at the back of mind. It must be noted Jayce Talis grabbed all he could and hoarded love in capacities that should not be allowed. His mother used to say finding one partner is a miracle and there he was, holding three people at the same time with no plans of letting even one of them go. All that to say, his morning thoughts were getting derailed into a territory where he imagined more than one hand caressing along his back. “The girls?” He puffed into the pillow.

“We can't leave without you on Progress Day, can we, counsellor Talis?” Mel had gotten up on the bed, purring into his ear.

Viktor shook his head but ultimately smiled. There was a level of railing only Mel Medarda could achieve. He let her do her thing. Sky fiddled with the zipper of her skirt at the door. The maroon garment suited her nicely and the warm white tights didn't wash her out. He caressed Jayce's back one last time, fixed his waist coat, and made his way to her.

“Turn around.” It was the gentlest of whispers, one that caused her sides to burn. No matter how much time had gone by since their first date, she was still the same girl that was too cautious to even hold his hand.

“Thank you.” She whispered back, fidgeting despite herself while Viktor zipped and buttoned the back of her skirt and tightened her waistcoat before kissing the same spot Mel had pecked earlier. There was something endearing and a bit amusing in watching her stutter around. “We'll be late!” Except for when it came to being on time. Then it was a whole different woman altogether. “Get up, Talis!” She landed a devastating slap on his ass that sent him flying up. There was nothing romantic or sensual about it but it was undeniably the funniest thing they'd seen in a good minute. It certainly killed the mood Jayce was labouring for.

“What was that for?!” he finally got up stretching his arms above his head.

“Being early and potentially being very late!” Sky scrunched her nose at him. “Next time I'll let you sleep in front of the door.”

He leaned in, a cocky grin on his face.

“Are you gonna kick me out of my own house, Bambi?”

“Don't push your luck, progress boy.” Mel wrapped her arms around him. “I'll let her.”

“Viktor?!” big puppy eyes in fear of being cornered by a predator shot in his direction, almost pleading. The older man shrugged, enjoying watching his lover struggle.

“It would be a…suitable lesson.”

“Do you guys hate me?!”

“We're fixing your unfortunate habits.” Mel ran her nails on his shoulder. He shivered again, but did his best to ignore the urges.

“I need 10 minutes.”

“You need more.” Sky shook her head, bun bouncing around. She knew her partners better than anyone. Jayce was the type of man to say he needs ten minutes and took three hours instead. “Best I can do is 20 minutes and a cup of coffee.”

“I'll take it.” He kissed her forehead, then ran from the bedroom into the bathroom, curses and clacking mixing with the stereo of the white tiles.

“He needs more than twenty minutes.” Viktor leaned on Mel’s shoulder.

“She knows.” Mel smirked.

“I put the clock back 20 minutes. He has about forty five minutes, but that is not something he needs to know.”

“Miss Young!” Viktor feigned offense.

“He is…unreliable.” She readjusted her glasses. “And woke me up at six to open the door.”

They chuckled as the shower ran.

The coffee was done.

#arcane #hexquad #sky young #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #mel arcane #jayce x sky x mel x viktor #arcane fic #jayce fluff #sky fluff #viktor fluff #mel fluff

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evolmyheart · 4 months ago

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Closed Azure's Echo Day for @sylus-hds-7213

Amaryllis: I'm going to open the door. Sy: Alright I am still here.

Placing her phone down on the bathroom sink, Amaryllis stood there looking at her self in the mirror. The dress that Sylus had sent her to wear was gorgeous in it's simplicity. A simple black to red ombre dress, that seem to hug her curves in all the right places, with a slit that went up to about her mid-thigh on her right leg. For moment she stood there, her hands running down her sides, making sure there were no creases in the soft velvety feeling fabric. He really did get her exact measurements.

Amaryllis cared about her appearance of course, but she'd never seen her figure so....accentuated before. Her brow quirked slightly at the thought, her mind going back to the text thread currently on her phone. The more she looked at herself, the more she was thinking against letting the big bad wolf in.

But it was too late for that now. He was standing outside her door, and though he was patiently waiting for her now. He had already threatened to come in, with or without her assistance. And she did ask him to help with the dresses zipper. Her bare back exposed where the dress was still open. Though she should probably clarify what kind of help she needed with said zipper.

With a gentle sigh, and a few pats at her face in attempt to hide her blush, Amaryllis padded over to the door. Her hand hovering over the handle for a few seconds, before she heard a soft ping from her phone.

Sy: I know you're standing there. Sy: Open the door, kitten.

Soft huffs leave her nose, hand clasped over the handle pulled it open towards her. Her cheeks flushed the instant her gaze met his, quickly moving out the way from the entrance to let him in. Anything to break that moment of eye contact.

"Come on in, Mr. Wolf." She teased, voice laced with amusement and a touch of sarcasm. With a soft click, she shut the door following after him, showing him her exposed back. "Now would you kindly zip me up? It's little hard to reach."

#{Fire Meets Fate: SyLis}#{crimson mist: sylus}#sylus hds 7213

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shadowphoenixrider · 9 months ago

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Listen to Your Heart (3/3)

(Previous)

And there are voices that want to be heard So much to mention but you can't find the words The scent of magic, the beauty that's been When love was wilder than the wind

---

Gambit had been a thief once before (and probably still was), yet I didn't really clock how skilled he was until this little excursion. He moved through the mansion like a wraith, barely making a sound as he strode confidently through the shadows, red eyes almost glowing in the darkness. I'd heard him referred to as 'Le Diable Blanc', and for a moment I understood - meeting him in a dark alley at night, his inhuman eyes flashing in the low light - no doubt I would think the Devil stalked the Earth too.

When we arrived at his room, he dipped to let me push open the door for him, just enough for us to squeeze in. My hand went for the light switch, and Gambit rumbled his thanks as he pushed the door closed with his foot.

This wasn't the first time Gambit had carried me to his room, but it was the first where we weren't all over each other, the first where he laid me down on the bed tenderly, as if I was a precious new glass ornament.

No - that implied I was too delicate to touch - as he mounted the bed, his hands were immediately on me; my waist, my cheek, pulling me close. Those beautiful dark eyes swallowed me, brimming with softness and adoration, as if he could no longer contain it, the emotions spilling over the sides.

Our second kiss was gentle. The easy give and take of our lips, unhurried. As Gambit shifted closer, his embrace closing around me, I pulled back, a feeling defining itself in stark relief.

"Don't take this the wrong way Remy," I said softly, watching his eyes closely. "But I don't wanna 'do' anything tonight. I just want to be with you. Is that okay?"

His smile twinkled fondly in his eyes.

"Of course, mon ombre." He murmured softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek, and resting his forehead against mine.

"I still..." I glanced away, shy. "I still want to see you. Be with you. Just not...all the way." I frowned. "Sorry, I'm not making sense."

Gambit tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Think I understand, ma chère," he said gently. "You want to be skin to skin, but nothin' further?" I nodded, my heart skipping as he smiled. "Bonne." He reached out to take hold of my hoodie's zipper. "What say we go down to our last pieces an' no more?"

"Sounds good." I nodded again, feeling my face heat as he pulled it down. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, belle." Gambit replied, sincerity frank on his face. "Things between us be more than jus' foolin' around." A small smile tugged at his lips, his brow lifting slightly. "Think we knew dat all along, didn' we?"

"Yeah." An answering smile on my own. "I was just...frightened of what might happen. How it could all go wrong if I messed it up." I pulled my feet up, tugging the laces on my boots undone and toeing them and my socks off. "I had to cut Tom off completely to get over him, which was paradoxically easy as we didn't share any friend overlap. If I had to do it with you..." I swallowed, watching him shed his own shoes instead of looking at his face. "Well. Being apart from you and the others was hard enough. I can't imagine..."

"Gambit knows dat well enough, mon amie." He replied kindly, shrugging his coat off. "Break-ups be messy even at de best of times." He smiled sadly, his gaze far-away. It didn't lift as his eyes returned to me. "Gambit were scared of it too. Drawin' ya into somethin' you didn' want. He knows what it be like after somethin' like that. De hole it tears in ya. Takes ages 'fore you even wanna look at someone dat way again."

I watched his face curiously - it was he whose gaze was avoiding me now. Whilst I would never pry into his past, I could read between the lines - it was unsurprising that Gambit had relationships in his past, but I was intrigued by what he was alluding to. A long romance, akin to my own? Maybe we were more alike than I thought.

"Yeah." I pulled my shirt up over my head, exposing my bare chest to the cooler air. "Not that I was against hooking up with someone if and when I found them, but I kinda...I wanted to enjoy being single, you know? Especially when being with Tom took up so much of my life." I watched him pull off his own shirt, muscles rippling with the motion. "Did you feel the same?"

"Oui." He nodded, his eyes lingering on me. "I fooled around a bit even when I were younger, but after dat...Dat's when I really got a reputation for..." Gambit frowned slightly. "For bein'...agh. Dere's a word for it. Name of someone who sleep aroun', famous guy." He muttered something in Cajun.

"Casanova?" I ventured.

"Dat's it!" He snapped his fingers, grinning. "I got a rep for bein' him, back den." The Cajun softened, our eyes meeting. "Not any more, though. There be no-one but you, chère."

I smiled shyly, hands going for my belt and trousers. Something squirmed in me, a disbelief that despite it all, that he would choose me.

"I'm glad." I said, trying to banish it. I'm not sure what betrayed me, but Gambit frowned, scooting closer and cupping my cheeks to make me look into his eyes.

"I don't want anyone but you," he said firmly.

The question bubbled up within me with the ferocity of an agitated soda bottle; I couldn't help it:

"Why?"

Gambit blinked, momentarily taken aback.

"Why?" He repeated. I felt like shrivelling up into a ball, but his grip on my face stopped me from drawing away.

"Y-yeah." I mumbled, shame crawling over my skin. "I'm, I'm just a scruffy little nerd who can barely hold her own with a sword. I'll never be as agile or as strong as you, and definitely not as good looking." I looked down, unable to bear his piercing gaze, feeling the tears begin to gather again. "You could have anyone you wanted...why me?"

"Some things be deeper than skin, chère." Gambit said softly. "Surely you of all people know dat. I don' care how beautiful de others be, dey ain't you." His thumb brushed across my cheek, catching a tear that had escaped. "No-one makes me feel like ya do." He paused for a moment. "I been wonderin' the same things too, ya know." I glanced up at him, surprised. "Why a bright, honest woman such as yourself would see anythin' in a swamp rat like me."

I blinked, shocked to see my insecurities reflected back at me. In Gambit. Something kindled in the base of my heart, a courage that ignited only when everyone else was scared or upset.

"You're not a swamp rat. Not to me." Gently gripping his wrists, I tugged his hands down to clasp them between my own, straightening my back. "You're incredible. And no matter what you think of yourself, what you did in your past, you're a good man, Remy. A man who didn't care wouldn't be trying to do better; wouldn't be part of the X-Men."

I scooted closer, leaning forward to cup his cheeks. "And you're talking to a woman who almost killed someone. Your hands might be dirtier than mine, but we both have debts to pay." A pause, scooping memories to the forefront of my mind. "A very good, wise friend once told me that we don't get do-overs, and all we can do is be better than we were before." His eyes widened slightly in recognition.

"I love you, Remy. Because of who you are, who you are trying to be. You might be a thief with blood on your hands, but you're also the man who's saved my life several times over, makes me laugh, who I can spend hours with just being." A heartbeat. "Not to mention you're one of the most handsome men I've known in while."

That made him smile, a blush darkening on his cheeks.

"You are more kind than I deserve, mon ombre," he said softly, looping his arms around my waist.

"It's not about what you deserve, Remy. I'm as kind as I need to be - no more, no less." I felt something shift, my neurons coupling together as a revelation occurred to me. "This, us, even me being at the mansion...It's not about 'deserving', not really. It's figuring out what we want and need, and the balance between the two - about picking the best path we can to making our lives worthwhile."

"I don't know if I'll ever feel like I deserve you, or deserve being part of the X-Men; heck, I still wonder if I deserve being Ebak's adoptive sister at times. But I know what I want, and what I want is to be here, doing this with my life." I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his. "And I want you, Remy. I don't want anyone but you."

He pulled me into a kiss, cupping the back of my head. We held each other tightly, as if the world might rip us apart at any moment, our kiss just on the edge of desperation. Remy broke it first for air, though he stayed so close his lips brushed mine with his next words:

"I be yours as long as ya want me, Shadow. An' long after that." Remy smiled, so honest it almost hurt. "I been yours ever since you laid dose healin' hands on me."

"And I yours since you saved me." I replied, smiling back. From the Friends of Humanity at our first meeting or from the cold in the storm, I left that up to him to decide - I wasn't exactly sure myself whether to measure from when the seed was planted or when it first started to sprout. Not that it really mattered any more anyway.

I tugged gently at the hem of his trousers. "May I see you?" I asked. Remy grinned.

"As if ya need to ask, chère," he said playfully, shuffling back to strip them off. I did the same with my own, leaving Remy in black boxer shorts and myself in black panties patterned with white stars.

I felt myself blush to look at him, and even he looked a little bashful when I met his gaze. Heaven knows why; we'd seen each other naked enough times by now, touched almost all our most intimate places, yet this...It seemed paradoxical that I felt more exposed and vulnerable now than I had on our first night together.

Remy, ever the bold one, moved first, tentatively reaching out to me. I scooted over, and we slotted our legs together, Remy winding an arm around my back to hold me close. I sighed as our skin met, my cells all but singing at the smooth riot of sensation. I felt him smile against me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

This was the first time I could remember when I really had a chance to really look at Remy, tracing my fingertips across his torso. He was lean and well-muscled, a brick wall when he wanted to be, yet there was a softness too, like a firm pillow with just enough give to cradle your muscles. I was surprised at the lack of scars for a man with such checkered past - what mistakes he had made were not documented on his skin, but in his mind and memory.

I could relate to that.

"You're gorgeous." I murmured softly, looking up at him. Remy's smile made his red eyes sparkle with affection, my heart skipping a beat.

"Could say the same about you." He returned the compliment, his own finger skimming across my pale skin. He traced invisible lines between the prominent dark brown spots on my body. "Always thought dese made ya look like you got constellations on your skin, mon amie," he said softly.

I blushed.

"Yeah, they kinda look like that, don't they? Their technical term in my line of work is 'naevi', but I've always heard them called 'moles'." I explained.

"Or beauty marks." Remy gave me a lop-sided smirk, my blush deepening.

"I've only ever heard that term when they were on the face, though." I mused, giving him a Look when he pointed out the one on my left cheek. "That doesn't count."

"Hey now, why dey beauty marks when dey everywhere but on you?" He frowned at me. "'Specially when Gambit finds you beautiful."

He...kinda had me there. I must have pouted, as his frown quickly melted away into a mischievous grin, only widening when I prodded his stomach.

"You're such a twat." I said, folding my arms and trying to be grumpy - which was very difficult when an affectionate Cajun started nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his long hair tickling against me.

"Mais, mon cœur! Gambit jus' tellin' ya de truth!" His long arms wrapped around me, trapping me against him as his breath found the part of my neck that made me squirm. "Why ya not lettin' him love ya?"

"A-Ah, R-R-Remy!" I giggled, trying not to squeal as his fingers homed in on my sensitive spots. "N-No! People are try-ying to sleep!"

"Den let Remy compliment you, petite brigand!" He growled playfully, nipping at the skin under my ear. "Lemme tell ya how pretty ya be!"

We tumbled over, Remy all but flattening me to the bed with his large body, and he was content to rest almost all his weight on me to pin me there. One hundred and eighty pounds of Cajun is not something that's easy to argue against when you have noodle arms.

"Okay fine, you win!" I grumbled, lifting my head so I wasn't speaking into the mattress.

"You're beautiful, mon cœur." Remy rumbled softly in my ear, lifting himself off me enough so I could roll over to face him. His hair tie had come loose during the scuffle, and I reached up to pull it free, tucking the long tresses behind his broad shoulder. "Remy gon' look forward to de day you believe it as well." He leant down, pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Me too." I nodded. "I want to believe it. It's just...hard."

"Remy will help you," he said softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Thank you." I smiled, touched by his gentle, steadfast affection. I reached up to cup his cheek, my heart skipping as he leaned into my touch, eyes lidding.

"Always." Remy rumbled lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest against me. Warmth curled around my heart, spreading through my body to the top of my scalp and the tips of my toes.

I was home.

With that revelation, however, came a sudden, overwhelming wave of tiredness. I blew out a sigh, sagging into the bed as the events of the day caught up with me.

"Shit...I'm sorry Remy, but I'm exhausted. Today has been...a lot."

"Yeah, jus' a bit." Remy smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "No problem, chère. Gambit be needin' a little shut-eye too." He scooped me up into his arms, pulling aside the duvet. "Gonna be alright like dis, or ya want Gambit's shirt? Don' want ya catchin' a chill."

"You run pretty hot, I think I'll be fine." I smiled back as he sat me down, laying his long body out along me. "If not, I'll just have to steal the duvet." I grinned mischievously as I pulled it over us, giggling as Remy pulled me up close to his body.

"An' dey call me de thief." He commented wryly, a wide, warm grin on his face, overflowing with affection. "Guess Gambit have to make sure ya nice an' cozy, den."

"Mmhmm!" I hummed, snuggling close. The Cajun curled himself around me, tucking me close as if we were made to fit together. He rested his large hand atop mine, and we interlaced our fingers together.

"Fais de beaux rêves, chère." Remy murmured, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Sleep well."

"Sorry Remy, you might have to explain that one to me." I replied. He smiled against me.

"'Have beautiful dreams', chère." He elaborated, thumb stroking against my hand. "Dreams as beautiful as you."

"Now you're just flattering me." I giggled, glancing up at him.

"Go to sleep, Shadow." Gambit grinned, squeezing me closer to him.

"Alright! G'night, Remy. Sweet dreams."

As I closed my eyes, I felt his lips against my cheek.

"Dey will be now you're here, mon ombre." He whispered.

And, true to his word, so were mine.

---

Listen to your heart When he's calling for you Listen to your heart There's nothing else you can do I don't know where you're going And I don't know why But listen to your heart Before you tell him goodbye -Listen to Your Heart, Roxette

(Previous)

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woodblxssomcrowned · 6 months ago

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What color would kaname paint her nails, would she use jade stones as accessories,(How do you imagine kaname wearing ancient Chinese style makeup).

Nails

In main verse Kana would probably not paint her nails often, but she would take a lot of care of her nails by keeping them nicely trimmed and neat and clean. She may have attempted to grow them out but found it difficult to keep them from being damaged during training. If she did paint it them would likely be in a nice red shade

Modern Kana would love to go with neutral colors of green, muted reds and pinks and nudes but play around with nail art such as Ombre, french tips of gold or accentuating colors and floral patterns.

Jade

She does wear jade accessories. It is one of the only gemstones that are included in the pieces she owns.

The Senju have a tradition of gifting jade bracelets to its female members (read more about it in my Senju HC post). The four major occasions are: 1. As a child, between the age of 3 and 7, given to her by her father 2. When she comes of age, at 16, by her father and/or her mother. 3. By her lover sometime before she marries them 4. By her mother on her wedding day (Other more optional occasions include milestones such as achievements in rank or skill, childbirth, gifted by husbands parents when she marries, anniversaries etc etc)

Kaname was ofc supposed to be given a bracelet by Hashirama when she was little, but he forgot about for almost seven years. As he had no sisters the tradition of a father giving his daughter a bracelet sort of went over his head. However, one day he did get this information, and was mortified. When Kaname was born, he had not been around, which was seen as a big no-no. A father was meant to be present for the birth of his children, and to care for the mother afterwards. But he was days away when Mito want into premature labor almost a month before it had been expected, and when he finally made it back Kaname was already a few days old. Mito didn't think much of it since it was hardly his fault, but he was actually scolded by several Senju for it.

So when he found out that he was once again mere weeks away from failing to uphold another fatherly tradition he scrambled to try and get his hands on a jade bracelet for Kana before her 7th birthday. His current situation and timeframe didn't allow for it, so he improvised. He wasn't able to get the traditional green jade, but he did get three large beads of lustrous white jade. The bracelet he did present to her ended up being composed of the three white jade beads, along with a series of wooden beads hand-carved by him from his mokuton. She loved it! The reactions from others was more of a 'good enough', and they weren't too surprised that he didn't stick to the traditional all green jade. He was an unconventional man after all. However, for when she came of age at 16 she did get a solid green jade bracelet.

She also has a necklace with three drops of green jade.

Ancient Chinese makeup

I'm not sure I understand the question. Ancient china saw lots of variations in makeup throughout the centuries and dynasties

As far as very general ancient Chinese beauty standards goes as applicable to Kana it would like her large eyes and long, straight and shiny hair. Much of what we know about the makeup of ancient china it did for a large part of it include (toxic if you were fancy) skin-whitening products, as pale, delicate features which were seen as synonymous to a wealthy, laid-back, indoor-bound lifestyle of meek and demure woman and was then enhanced by dark powdered brows, red lips, vibrantly rouged cheeks and different decorations such as xiehong and huadian.

I'm not about to put Kana anywhere near skin-whitening products or powders, but I will give her face-powder that matches and evens out her skin, minimizing blemishes and spots, scars and freckles, and give her a lovely red lip and add some blush. We can also add some dark details to her eyes and brows. I think the Yin/Byakugo seal counts as as a huadian substitute

I'm not sure than answered your question ^^'

#;;kaname #;;answered #;;anonymous #;;headcanons #;;kaname’s wardrobe #;;Father || Senju Hashirama

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rikki-roses · 1 year ago

Text

Fluffy February Day 13: Splurge

SWTOR

Pairing: Early Setra Rowan/Theron Shan

Time period: After Yavin IV, before Ziost

Thinking Setra would wear something like this:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part of Theron wondered if he was going crazy, taking this big of a risk.

Part of him didn't care.

Officially, he and Setra were Just Friends, going to the gala/post-Yavin IV celebration together because neither one of them had a +1, and their respective superiors had brow-beat them into attending. Unofficially, they were in a situationship; way past friends-with-benefits, but both too attachment-adverse to take the next step and make things official.

The gala, then, was the perfect excuse for them to get drunk and dance together in a public setting without eyebrows being raised. Not they were lacking in together-time; Setra had already spent a weekend at Theron's apartment since Yavin, on top of almost-daily texting.

And thus, Theron was doing some last minute shopping. Setra had already sent him a picture of the dress she'd bought - a purple ombre cocktail dress still on the hangar - allowing Theron to match his outfit to hers.

Theron was walking through the shopping center, that night's outfit slung over his shoulder having been purchased and tailored, when a glittery purple object in a jeweler's window caught his eye. Normally, Theron would pass it by without a second look.

Normally, he didn't have a situationship that he was catching feelings for.

Making a snap decision, Theron went into the jewelry shop. One could splurge every now and then on their lady friend, right? Especially when her Codes forbade her from splurging on herself.

The purple object that caught his eye turned out to be a choker - rose-gold metal chain, with a single amethyst sphere. Way more money than Theron had ever spent on a gift for another (and honestly more money than he usually spent on himself, outside of food and building speeders).

Theron bought it anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the first time, Setra had found a formal dress that didn't make her want to crawl out of her skin.

She had wanted to wear one of her casual dresses - they were infinitely more comfortable - but her crew (along with her sisters' help) had bullied (lovingly, of course) her into going shopping in their latest attempt to find her something fancier that she wouldn't promptly make disappear after wearing once.

And now she may have finally found it. The fabric was soft, some sort of silk blend. It also didn't show any more skin than her "normal" dresses did.

Even so, Setra had spent most of the morning communing with the Force in mental preparation for that night; she hated (as much as a Jedi could, anyways) large gatherings. She hadn't wanted to go to the gala that night, but Master Satele had been firm. She had, however, taken the time to actually "do" her hair - her pigtails were down, and she'd used some hair product to make her short curls more pronounced.

On the upside, when she messaged Theron about it he had revealed he was in the same boat, and suggested that they go together. As "just friends", of course. Wink wink.

So now she waited at Annie and Aric's house, along with Vy'reni and Kira (who, unlike Setra and Theron, had no qualms making their relationship public - much to the Council's continued dismay). Setra had given Theron the address earlier so he could meet them.

There was a knock at the door, and Setra quickly answered, revealing Theron. Setra slowly moved backwards to let him in, thoroughly checking him out. He looked amazing. She was suddenly glad she'd sent him a picture of her dress; Theron had done a great job color coordinating. Setra struggled to keep herself from blushing.

And then Theron got a good look at her.

His mouth dropped.

She lost the battle to the blush.

They barely took the time to ensure the others weren't watching before Theron pulled her in, his hands firmly on her waist, her hands firmly on his chest.

"Please tell me you're keeping this one." Theron's voice was low, almost husky.

The corner of Setra's mouth curled up. "I was thinking about it, actually. It's the least bad formal dress I've tried."

Theron simply kissed her in response, Setra eagerly reciprocating.

They broke the kiss after a long moment, and Theron had her turn around and close her eyes. She wasn't expecting the cool metal that came into contact with her neck. She opened her eyes when Theron gave her the go ahead.

Only to find a rose-gold metal choker with an amethyst pendant hanging around her neck. It looked like it cost more money than almost everything Setra owned, minus the few pieces of horn jewelry that her adoptive parents had purchased for her over the years (also, ironically, the only other jewelry she owned). But, it also went perfectly with her dress, and would match well with most (if not all) of her more casual outfits, Jedi robes included.

For a brief second, she panicked; her Codes discouraged both frivolous spending and attachments to objects. It had been one thing for her parents to purchase horn jewelry for her, since it was directly tied to her Zabrak heritage, but this?

But then she saw the look in Theron's eyes - the sparkle of hope, the desire for her, the eagerness to do something nice for her. The glimmer of fear that she would reject the gesture.

She did like it, cost and attachments aside. And it touched her beyond measure that Theron had thought fondly enough of her to do this.

"It's beautiful, Theron. Thank you. I think I can wear it with just about everything I own. Do I want to know how much you spent?"

"More than either of us is used to spending." But, I figured you were worth splurging on."

She quickly kissed him in thanks as the others called for them.

#swtor jedi consular #zabrak oc #fluffy february #theron shan

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theroseceleste · 1 year ago

Text

Vivi - @ viviana_ohara on Twitter commissioned me to write a story based on her OC's lore.

Viviana, a person who was once part of Hydra's many Winter Soldiers is found several decades later by Miguel. She joins forces with the Spider Society. But will she accept his love and support to overcome her trauma?

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Contains : 18+ - Minors DNI Angst, mentions of trauma and grief, smut - breast play, masturbation, oral, penetrative sex.

Word count - 5381

Enjoy! xx

----------

How can it be, that after seven decades, the pain feels just as fresh as it did that fateful day? Two large gaping holes in her soul feel just as prominent as if her loss happened just yesterday.

Today is the anniversary of her husband and son’s death. She sits alone in her personal room in Spider Society HQ, grieving. It has been the first instance in a very long time that she has allowed herself to cry over her tragic losses.

Three months she has been in a place that she could consider home. A place she could begin considering feeling safe. There is still much more work to be done in order for her to feel totally secure, but so far it has been a good start.

The moment the tears begin to flow, it feels like a dam releasing a torrent. Decades upon decades of pent up emotion and tears being released very suddenly, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Her tear-stained cheeks tingle as they soak up the droplets of despair.

A pillow is nestled in her arms as she lays on her bed, clutching it close to her chest, sobbing into it. It’s the only comfort she can get when she feels alone. If she concentrates hard enough, it almost - almost, feels like she’s holding her son once again.

The sound of a gentle knocking on her door fills the room, stirring the crying woman from her emotional state. Wiping tears from her face, she sits up. A gold shimmer of light runs down her face, masking the fact that she has been crying.

“Who is it?” she calls out, doing her best to sound as unemotional as possible.

The handle on the door turns as the person outside begins to enter.

A large red and blue hand comes around the door first as they open it further. After that, a man of a considerable height enters the room. The rest of his body covered almost head to toe in a skin tight suit bearing the same colours as his hand.

He wore an expression of concern as he let his gaze fall on the woman with red and black ombre hair sitting on her bed.

“You okay, Sylvia?” he asks with a gentle voice as he closes the door behind him.

The now straight faced woman nods, giving the weakest of smiles. “Of course I am.”

A soft sigh fills the air as the man’s furrowing brow becomes more obvious. He knows she’s not alright. “I could hear you crying, and your pillow is wet from your tears…” His observation skills are incredible, but it can also be irritating if someone wants to hide something. The large, muscular man approaches as he watches her look at her pillow indignantly as if it had given her vulnerability away.

The mattress on her bed dips as he perches himself on the edge. The weight of his six-foot-nine-inch tall body makes it creak slightly as he gets comfortable, but keeping a respectful distance from the distressed woman.

Sylvia gauges the man for a moment; watching his every move, scrutinising his facial expressions, trying to determine if he is going to become mad at her for being upset. A part of her early life trauma makes her hesitant to show any raw emotion such as sadness or fear. Her tail twitches nervously before he opens his mouth to speak.

“You don’t need to pretend, Sylvia. It’s okay to grieve. I understand…” A warm and comforting hand tentatively rests on her shoulder.

The floodgates open again. Her normal facade crumbles in an instant. Another shimmer of light reveals her true face; red blotchy skin, streaks of old tears and slightly swollen lips. Heart breaking sobs erupt from her the moment she’s given the greenlight to show emotion.

A horrible ache is felt in the man’s heart as he watches her dissolve into tears, but he wants her to allow herself to process her emotions and feelings. The hand that rests on her shoulder squeezes gently as a sign of reassurance.

“Thank you, Miguel.” She sniffs as she grips her pillow once more and wraps her arms around it. “It's a force of habit to bottle things up.” Her voice is soft but shaky from her crying.

If there’s one thing that this man knows best, it’s bottling up emotions. He understands from experience how things can unfold badly when emotions remain pent up. The person suffering could blow up or break down into tears in the most unpredictable of moments. Miguel does not want that for Sylvia and feels he should help her, if she’ll allow it.

That squeeze on her shoulder did more for her than Miguel will ever know. It tells her she’s safe and she can trust him. The warmth she feels from the gentle touch of his hand, makes him seem inviting and friendly.

Her entire life has been a challenge; each downfall a harsh reminder that she shouldn’t trust. However, his support in recent days is encouraging her to feel more at home in HQ. In fact, she starts to notice her heart doing something that it hasn’t done for the better part of a century. Something she has told herself to never indulge in ever again. It flutters as her gaze rests on him, especially when he looks right back at her. He smiles softly at her which only excites that fluttering butterfly sensation in her chest, until she draws a sharp intake of breath and pulls away. She promised - no, she vowed to never fall for anyone again.

Little does she know, the man sitting in front of her is also feeling a similar sensation inside his chest.

While she reminds herself of her vow, he remembers their agreement three months ago: to work together but remain as acquaintances. Back then, he was just thankful for the help, but the more time he spent with her, he found himself wishing to get to know her better. Frustration builds within him, but so does his desire to respect her wishes. The last thing he wants is to spook her, resulting in her leaving.

So far, he has been dropping tiny hints that he likes her. Probably small enough that it slips under her radar. These hints are designed to see just how sensitive she truly is. He wishes to see where her boundaries lie, so he understands what she does and doesn’t find acceptable.

Perhaps the touching of her shoulder and the longing look in his eyes is a step too far. Lowering his hand back down onto his lap, he looks away.

“Well, I’m always around if you want to talk and get anything off your chest.” Miguel stands as he lands his gaze back on her momentarily. “Or, I can just sit here in silence with you, if you prefer.”

Sylvia remains cradling her pillow cross-legged on her bed. A gentle nod from her indicates she heard him, but silence is all he receives.

While feeling slightly disappointed, he can understand her behaviour. After losing Gabriella, he too felt like this. His grief is different, so he never dared to tell her he knew how she felt, but he is quick to offer support out of his abundant care for her.

Now six months into their agreement, the two have become slightly more than acquaintances, but far from lovers, despite Miguel’s growing desires.

At any given moment, he spends his time with her or he invites her to his lab while he monitors the multiverse. The Spider Society leader enjoys her company and misses her dearly if she’s away. Despite not being able to reveal how he truly feels, he settles for building a relationship of friendship and trust.

“Lyla; can you tell me where Miguel is?” Sylvia asks the AI on her watch.

A hologram of a woman flickers into view, dressed in a large white coat and sports a strawberry blonde bob hairstyle. She smiles at Sylvia.

“He’s in his usual hiding spot,” Lyla replies as she checks her tablet.

Taking in a deep breath, Sylvia nods and steels herself. After a few days of deliberation, she has made the decision to open up a bit more with the Spider Society leader as part of a test of trust.

Entering the large lab in HQ, she watches Miguel stand on his lowered platform looking at the countless orange screens like a vigilant wolf. His attention wanders away from the status of the multiverse as he hears footsteps approach, a warm smile growing across his lips. Over the last few months, he has been able to recognise her footsteps, and it brings him joy whenever he hears them.

“Hey, Sylvia,” he greets her as he turns away from his monitors, looking down into her beautiful, mesmerising silver eyes. However, they look concerned as her brows are furrowed slightly.

Tilting his head with curiosity, he asks her what the matter is.

A nervous sigh quivers from between her parted lips. The pounding in her heart doesn’t help matters, but she feels she’s ready to open up.

“I want to tell you something.” Her hands fiddled together in front of her, a clear display of nervousness.

A palpitating sensation fills his large chest. Curiosity and hope swells in his mind. What could she possibly want to tell him?

“Que pasa?” he asks her, unable to hide a growing smile on his face.

It’s a rather large step up onto the platform that Miguel usually stands on. A height that isn’t so much of a problem for the likes of him, but for someone over a whole foot shorter, will surely struggle. With the power of flight, the red and black haired woman takes a floaty leap and lands gracefully on the platform next to the Spider Society leader.

This isn’t anything new for Miguel to see. He knows she’s special after learning about her in the Winter Soldier program.

“I would like it if you called me by my real name…” she begins to explain, but the look of surprise on Miguel’s face makes her pause.

“You mean to say that Sylvia isn’t your real name?” This conversation isn’t going the way he expected it would. There is a distinct feeling of a rug being pulled from underneath him.

With a furrowed brow, she shakes her head. Using her mind reading abilities, she peers into his thoughts to gauge how he’s feeling. She worries that perhaps he’ll feel that she’s given him a reason to mistrust her. However, all she feels is just shock ringing out from his mind.

“Sylvia Black is a name given to me by Alexander Pierce… by Hydra…” She sneers at the name as if it left a nasty taste in her mouth by just speaking it.

“What is it? What’s your real name?” Miguel asks as his shock slowly ebbs away and is replaced by curiosity. He’s about to learn something new about this woman. He finds himself excited, however, her display of nervousness gives him cause for concern. It makes him unhappy to see her upset or feeling cautious around him.

Looking down at the platform they’re standing on to focus on anything other than his deep reddish brown eyes, she begins to answer.

“Viviana… Viviana Montenegro…” As she speaks her real name, it feels as though a cloak is lifted off of her shoulders. Revealing the real person underneath. Not the person who Hydra made her out to be, but the person she was born to be.

The Spider Society leader repeats her first name as if trying it out. It has a nice ring to it and suits her perfectly. Much better than Sylvia Black.

“That’s a beautiful name…” A feeling of warmth spreads through his chest knowing that she’s opening up to him. The fact she trusts him to start learning about the real her brings him joy.

“I believe it will help me start my healing process from my past if you-”

Without even knowing it, he takes a step closer to Viviana, his long fingers subconsciously reaching out to touch her hand. His eyes widen when he notices her step back and pull her hand away out of his reach. A nervous twitch of her tail is also a clear indication he overstepped the mark.

“Oh - Viviana, I’m sorry, I-” Miguel realises he has done the wrong thing as he watches her retreat.

“Now you know…” her voice shakes as she speaks. Worry and fear blankets her mind. Manic thoughts rushing through her head. Perhaps she did this all too soon. Maybe she shouldn’t have done this at all.

Without another word, she abandons the platform and makes her way out of Miguel’s lab.

“Wait…” the Spider Society leader rushes after her, eyes wide with fear of losing her. His heart pounds as his long strides help him to catch up with Viviana easily.

“Por favor - listen to me. I’m sorry if I scared you. Let me explain myself, please!”

However, the woman already knows. He has fallen for her and she’s close to falling for him. She can’t fall in love. She won’t.

“Please stop and spare yourself the heartbreak you’ll inevitably feel if you fall for me. I don’t want to hurt you, Miguel-”

Both of his hands grab her arms and stop her from walking any further away from him. However his grip isn’t hard or particularly firm. In fact he’s gentle. Fully aware of her traumatic past, he didn’t want to trigger her in any way.

“Please, don’t leave me like this.” His voice shakes, full of emotion. “You can’t leave me without hearing what I have to say to you.” Hope glistening in his eyes as he begs for her to stay. The temptation to pull her in close and shower her with his love is almost too strong, however that’d be the wrong move to make - he’s sure of it.

Silence falls between them for a moment. For the briefest of seconds she considers it, but realises if she listens to him then that’s more baggage for her to deal with. It’ll only end in disaster. Pulling away, she breaks free from his gentle grasp.

“You’ll only hurt more if you say what you want to say…”

Miguel’s heart plummets painfully into the pit of his stomach. Watching her pull away from him, witnessing her eyes well up with tears. He’s messed up - big time. Outstretching his hand, he tries to reach for her - even his claws peek out - but it is done all in vain. Viviana takes flight, leaving the large, wide eyed Spider Society leader alone in his lab, feeling totally and utterly devastated.

Her last words circle cruelly in his mind. You’ll only hurt more if you say what you want to say… He hurts now, and he didn’t even get a chance to pour his heart out to her.

Falling to his knees, he watches the woman he loves and truly cares for shrink further into the distance.

An array of colours glow and twist as a portal opens up outside a derelict, burned down house surrounded by nothing but fields. Reds, oranges and pinks highlight the charred wood until it dissipates, leaving a tearful woman behind.

Her family home that she destroyed half-stands before her. Painful memories fill her mind. The prominent memory, watching her husband and son get brutally murdered in front of her very eyes, replays in her mind like some kind of sick and twisted movie scene. Even the good memories hurt. That happiness she shared with Loki and Ivar - gone, never to return.

Walking along the ground floor of her abandoned home, her booted feet crunch over smashed glass. Wooden boards creak and groan under her weight. As she explores the remaining foundations of the house, her foot accidentally kicks something metal, making it skid along the floor. An old photo frame, housing a picture of the three of them. Viviana tentatively approaches it and reaches down to pick it up. Her fingers brush away the black ash that covers the picture. Loki’s cheeky, wide smile beams up at her, and Ivar’s little giggle could be heard as she thinks back to when the photo was taken. She remembers that her son’s laughter brought such joy; it was so infectious… So sweet.

She stays for three days. Sleep is a rare occurrence for her, so she spends all of her time thinking.

While pondering her past, she considers her future too. Should she return to Spider HQ? Should she speak to Miguel ever again? Should she even bother considering her future there? One thing is for sure, she can’t let go of the sound of the Spider Society leader pleading for her to listen to him. All he has ever done is shown her kindness and given her security.

Leaning against one of the blackened walls of the ground floor of her family home, she contemplates the structure for a moment. Her silver eyes look up at the charred wooden beams over her head.

She compares the house to herself. Despite the damage it has taken from the fire, there’s still part of it that stands. Even after seventy years of the elements long after the fire died out. It still stands.

From a very young age, an innocent. She has dealt with hardships, abuse, experiments, loss and grief. She still stands… Even later on in life, after rebuilding everything, gaining trust, marrying and starting a family, only to then lose it all. She still stands.

Both she and the house stand, despite everything. Yes, they’re damaged, but the foundations of the house and her as a person remains. And those foundations can be rebuilt and strengthened…

Three days without Viviana and Miguel is a total mess. He knew where she had gone; Lyla gave him her coordinates, but he didn’t dare follow, despite desperately wanting to.

To keep his mind on something else, he trains when he’s not doing his usual HQ duties.

Just as he is about to land a devastating punch to a training dummy, Lyla pops into view. Her hologram flickering more than usual. Her algorithm is buzzing with excitement.

“She’s back!”

The Spider Society leader freezes mid swing and his eyes widen in shock.

“What?!”

“Viviana, she’s back and I think she’s looking for you in your lab.”

He’s suddenly very short of breath as his heart thumps in his chest. Miguel takes off, there’s quite a distance between the training area and his lab, and he wants to get there as soon as possible. Like a man on a mission, he sprints down corridors, thwips his angry, red webs, swinging hard and fast to reach his lab in record time.

“Viviana!” he calls out breathlessly as he slides into his large office. Before him, stands a tired, emotional woman. Her arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to give herself comfort. Their eyes meet. She looks close to tears and her bottom lip wobbles slightly.

The Spider Society leader steps closer, but remembers he should keep his distance. It would kill him if she took off again after returning from her three day hiatus.

Viviana notices the desperate look on his face. An expression that screams, I have missed you so much! No one in her life has ever greeted her in such a way. She knew instantly he must have been worrying about her while she was gone. A fresh wave of emotion surges through her. Her eyes search his expression, making double - triple sure before she does something she hasn’t done for an exceedingly long time.

Rushing forward, she throws her arms around his shoulders after finally giving herself permission to accept his affection.

Miguel is speechless but over the moon with happiness. His big, powerful arms wrap around her, taking her embrace as the greenlight to hold her in return. Long fingers tangle in her stunning red, wavy hair while his other hand rubs her back delicately, in a comforting manner. She has returned and come to him for support and security. He intends to make damn sure he’ll deliver. He wants the Spider Society to be her sanctuary and a place for her to feel surrounded by people who she can trust.

Tears run down her cheeks and onto Miguel’s suit as she buries her face into his trapezius muscle.

“Shhh… shh… it’s okay.” The Spider Society leader whispers softly to her and gives a gentle squeeze around her. This is the first time they have touched one another deliberately and with meaning behind it. He closes his eyes as he takes in the feeling of her closeness, breathing deeply.

He’s not sure if it’s her abilities, but he swears he can feel some resonance within her. A sense of her feelings and emotions reverberates within him. A connection between them, building in strength the longer he holds her.

“I’m just… so afraid, Miguel.” Her breathing quivers as she speaks and draws a sharp intake of air as she hyperventilates. “You don’t understand.”

Their connection reveals the pain she feels and he can hear it in her voice. The tightening of her grip around him makes him feel she needs him, just as much as he needs her.

As much as he loves to have her close, he reluctantly pulls away so he can look into her eyes. His heart hurts at the sight of them so full of tears.

“You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

Relief washes over her upon hearing his words of promise. She believes him. It’ll be hard work getting over the trauma she has had to deal with in her life, or to at least learn to cope with it. But here, she can get the support she needs. Here, she won’t be alone. Here, she will strengthen her foundations and rebuild.

A soft but shaking hand caresses Miguel’s face. Viviana takes in the look of peacefulness and joy in his expression when she touches him. Mystifying silver eyes meet warm, enticing reddish brown, their hearts quickening as their deep connection grows.

“You know you can trust me, right?” His voice is warm and loving, providing a comfort she hasn’t felt in decades. The Spider Society leader lifts her with ease, standing tall with her in his protective arms.

Trust is a small word, but it’s a tremendous thing to give someone. Especially after knowing them for just six months. But for some reason, looking into his eyes, she knows that she can trust him.

A tiny voice in her head reminds her that she isn’t supposed to be falling in love, never again. Her brow furrows and her lip quivers as she remembers her vow.

“Miguel…” Her voice is only just above a whisper.

“You don’t have to be strong when you’re with me.”

Every kind and sweet word he speaks weakens her resolve. Another voice in her head argues that she should give this guy a chance. Forget that vow she made; she deserves another chance, considering it wasn’t her fault that she lost her first.

In total disbelief with herself, she leans in closer as her heart beats hard within her chest. The warmth of his skin radiating onto her face. Lips only an inch apart from hers, Miguel feels the pull between them, desperately wishing to close the gap. However he has scared her away before and refuses to do anything that might do that again.

As another tear streaks down her face, she steels herself. Closing her eyes, she takes the leap of faith and seals her lips around his. Loki will always be in the back of her mind, but she feels he wouldn’t want her hanging on his memory, staying loyal and never seeking happiness for the rest of her life.

The kiss between them starts off as soft, delicate caresses of their lips. But it soon evolves into a searing, passionate moment. Months of tension and hesitation finally being released into an explosive instance. The kiss deepens as his tongue gains entry to her mouth, after dancing across her lower lip. Fingers tangled in each other's hair, pulling and stroking with love and affection.

With her ensconced in his arms, safe and sound, he carries her to a desk in his lab. A long sweep of his arm ensures that everything on the surface goes flying. Not a single care in the world that anything might break. Viviana is more important in that precise moment.

“Um… Miguel? You do realise I haven’t um… been intimate for seventy years, right?” Conflict fills her mind as she feels him place her gently on the table. Smiling lips press against hers this time as he leans over. Red and blue hands caress her cheeks the moment he pulls away again.

“I’ll take very good care of you - I promise.” His voice is gentle as he looks down upon her beautiful face. The silver of her irises captivates him. He admires how her long eyelashes frame her stunning eyes. Her lips, so kissable, so soft, so tempting. The tiny moles under her left eye and lower lip accentuates her facial features. To top it all off, her black and red ombre hair provokes the sense of intimidation and aggressiveness, but deep down, he knew of her caring, gentle and sensitive side.

“No one will come in, either. Lyla; you know what to do…” he mumbles against Viviana’s ear after noticing her looking around to check if they’re alone.

The tension in her body relaxes as she hears Miguel take care of their security in his lab.

Fumbling hands snake underneath her body as he negotiates her suit. Each tug at the zip loosens the material, allowing him to gradually peel it off. To remain equal, he allows his suit to fade away. His lips return to hers as he undresses her.

Moans soon fill the air as his hot lips roam over her naked body. Creeping from her mouth, along her jawline and slowly down her neck. Soft nibbles tease over her collarbone and move onto trailing his tongue delicately around her chest. The cool air sends a chill over the thin lines of moisture, making her nipples harden before reaching one and takes it carefully into his mouth.

A soft, quiet mewl escapes her parted lips as she feels a gentle sucking on her beautiful plump breast while a large hand blankets the other. Her eyes flutter closed as the sweet sensations she’s feeling takes over. A satisfied groan follows her sound of appreciation as he enjoys the pleasure he’s giving her.

Semi-tanned hands run through short dark brown curls, holding him there as he presses his face against her chest more firmly. His powerful jaw, working on creating nerve-meltingly good sensations to help her relax.

It seems to be doing the trick. Her moans progressively become louder, and her back arch grows increasingly pronounced as he continues to pleasure her with his talented tongue.

Her pleasure-fuelled moans only encourage him to give her more. All the while his hand slowly pumps his hardening shaft. The satisfied sounds she’s making is something he enjoys hearing. Telling him he’s doing things right for her is always a turn on.

Miguel takes his time, warming her up, preparing her for him. Especially after a long time of no sexual activity.

With a wet pop from his lips, his mouth slowly travels further down her body. Over her ribs and down onto her stomach. The abdominal muscles twitch slightly as his attention tickles her skin and sends tingles around her body.

Viviana feels two hands hold her under her thighs and push them upwards, gently spreading them wider.

A deep groan leaves his lips as he takes in the sight before him.

“Muy bonita,” he mutters, looking as though his birthday had come early.

A blushing face with parted lips stares back at him, panting heavily with anticipation. She gives him a subtle nod, permitting him to continue.

His smile spreads wider before leaning in, capturing her extremely sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. The warmth and moisture of his mouth sent her into ecstasy almost instantly. Throwing her head back, she cries out in pleasure, her blush growing more intense.

A fresh groan vibrates against her nether regions as he discovers how good she tastes and is amused with hearing her noises. His hand fists his cock harder; it won’t be long till she’s ready for him.

Long laps of his tongue trails up from her sensitive folds and over her clit. She tastes exquisite.

“Mi-Miguel!” Viviana cries out urgently. He is so invested he nearly brought her to orgasm. Pulling away slowly, he stands and positions himself between her legs. The head of his hard, throbbing shaft teasing her glistening pussy.

A hot and heavy kiss is planted on her lips, giving her a taste of herself, just for a brief moment.

Pulling away shortly after, he starts to mumble against her neck.

“Te amo…”

The Spider Society leader gently enters her, pushing slowly, giving her time to adjust. Hands frantically grasp the edge of the desk as a faltered breath fills the air. His cock, gradually stretching her walls as he takes the utmost care, as promised.

“Good girl…” he praises her. He knows this is a big step for her and she deserves all of the encouragement.

The black and red haired woman’s heart flutters. His words and actions make her melt, not to mention his incredible body that is about to embark on a journey of giving her absolute pleasure. Just his heat alone, emanating from his large, looming frame makes her feel secure underneath him. His calm and loving expression strengthens her feeling of trust.

After taking the greatest of care and time, he’s deep inside her. The hilt of his urgent member pressing firmly into her entrance. Looking down at her, she seems calm and collected. She’s ready and trusts him explicitly - that’s more than he could ever ask for.

Miguel starts off slowly, pulling out and pushing back in. His ruby red eyes, analysing her, looking for the first signs of discomfort. To his relief, she seems to be doing just fine. A blissful smile spreads across her face, her eyes closed, heightening the sensations she’s feeling. There’s even a cheeky lip bite.

“You’re doing so well, hermosa,”

Leaning down, his hands support his weight either side of her beautiful body. His hips thrust a little harder. Each movement ends in a delicious grind against her sensitive bud, increasing that toe-curling tension building within her core.

A symphony of moans and groans fill the air as their lovemaking heats up. Even the sound of the desk creaking and banging against the wall joins in.

To his surprise, her tail wraps around his thick, muscular thigh. A smile creeps across his face as he realises that’s her special way of telling him to stay close and keep going. Just the mere thought of that alone sends shivers down his spine, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Good girl, Viviana,” he whispers before feeling a tightening around his thigh, followed by a clench around his shaft.

“Ah fuck, yes!”

His hips pump harder and faster into her as he watches her dissolve further into pure bliss.

“Miguel!~” she cries out again. Her fingers grip the edge of the desk more firmly.

They’re both close to the brink of oblivion. Lowering his body again, his chest presses into hers, increasing the friction of their hips grinding together.

“That’s it, good girl, cum for me,” the Spider Society leader grunts as his body works harder for her.

Finally, she opens her eyes and watches his exquisite muscles flex as he thrusts and grinds, delivering her to her orgasm. Her tail’s grip tightens, her legs wrap around his hips as he pushes firmly into her. They both reach their climax together.

As the afterglow sets in, Miguel’s arms wrap around her and hold her close, enabling her to give him a sweet, tender kiss on his slightly sweaty forehead.

“Te amo…” she whispers into his ear…

----------

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

If you're interested in commissioning me, please click on the link below to find out more!

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #commisions open #smut #commission #oc x character

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thepmucode · 6 days ago

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browsbyera · 1 month ago

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Master the Art of Beauty: Your Guide to the Best Cosmetic Tattooing Training Melbourne

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