#one day you will understand that all you need is fox woman

[she-who-must-not-be-woken]

#mito uzumaki #one day you will understand that all you need is fox woman #yeah i look an you hashirama-i-had-not-a-single-line-about-my-wife-senju #shame on you #naruto #digital art #art #my art #sketch #uzumaki clan

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Maybe one with bunny!hyrbid!reader and Natasha “adopts” her and just fucks the shit out of her with her strap (or her real cock if you prefer to write that)

Run Rabbit Run

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!bunny!hybrid!reader x owner!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha can’t help but grant her bunny all her little wishes

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), ownership, size kink, strap on, artificial cum, slight breeding kink, pillow humping, slight somno, masturbation, crying during it,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What to do with all the money you make as an Avenger? That was a question Natasha had ask herself more times than she could count. Sure currently was her monthly pay check and all the money she made from interviews and social media was rotting away in her bank account, because she was never a fan of making herself gifts nor did she have time for it. But now with Easter just around the corner the Russian decided to not only do something against her overload on money but also against her loneliness.

She wanted a hybrid, not just some brainless pet but something that could actually understand her. The concept of owing a hybrid wasn't new of course it had been around for years, back in the days they actually hunted them from nature but nowadays there was no need after they got a hang of how to domesticate such a creature.

Natasha stepped foot in one of the only places in the whole of New York who sold these rare creatures- Tony had recommended it to her after once more bragging about his large collection. The over friendly employee showed her the different enclosures all while the employee tried to keep it together- after all you didn't see an Avenger daily not even when working for a prestigious company like she did.

Natasha first visited the cat hybrids, cute but too stubborn, then the dogs, too dependent, foxes were too clever for her taste though especially the polar foxes caught her eyes. Bears and any other large animals would be too much work and needed too much space. The right pick was right on her nose she wanted to get herself a bunny.

Standing in front of the enclosure which held you and a few of your companions Natasha and the employee stood, her gaze never leaving your body. You didn't alter much from a normal human, except for the fluffy bunny ears, little tail and over all smaller build you looked like any other girl. You were going to cost her a hefty amount of hard earned money but for your rare breed, Natasha couldn't care less about that in the moment. The way you stat there so carelessly reading some book which laid in her lap, made you different in her eyes more intelligent maybe? She wanted connection and not some braindead doll after all.

"The one in the pink collar… is she still to have?" Natasha asked the employee you gave her a quick nod. "Yes, she hasn't been here for long though the ones like her normally get adopted quite quickly." Nat only hummed in approval she couldn't wait to have you in her home. "I'll have her in a private kennel"

Meeting a potential owner made you nervous of course you had been trained to and prepared on how to act in such a situation, how to appeal to any potential owner - though you secretly hoped for a female buyer. You tried your best to hide your shy nature from the older woman who awaited you but Natasha found it charming how your, compared to your body, large floppy bunny ears hang low but twitched up when she spoke to you in a gentle manner.

Natasha approached the situation with a calm demeanour- she knew about the shy nature of a bunny like you. As soon as you were comfortable enough to approach her she started to pet over your smaller head with careful hands- and you loved it. By the end of your get to know each other you sat on the redhead's lap clinging on to her. But you weren't parted for long Natasha signed all the paperwork the same day and at the start of the next week you were able to move in with her.

She had given you a nice room, with many books, TV and games to entrain yourself with while she would be working. You came with the clothes from the centre, a basic white bluse, white skirt everything in white , like any other hybrid except for your coloured coded collar which adored your neck so the employees had an easier time keeping hybrids a part. Natasha started to take great joy in precisely choosing each outfit for you. Price didn't matter to Natasha, if she found something to be cute she bought it for you and Nat was known for expensive taste. Sooner or later your closet was fuller than hers, filled to the brim with shorts, blouses, floral summer dresses anything which had a playful feel to it.

Natasha was a busy woman though, often being away for days at a time, she normally made up with expensive gifts and extensive cuddling for her little bunny girl. But that hardly was enough to satisfy your need to be close to the older woman, not to mention that you were worried sick about your owner once you had found out that she wasn't a simple business woman but an avenger.

Natasha came home at around 3 AM after a long mission in Europe the jet lag and sleep deprive was killing her, and since she thought you'd already be asleep at such a late hour- and way past your agreed on bed time, she'd just go to sleep already. As soon as she had stripped to her underwear and her face had it the pillows she was dead asleep, little did she know that you weren't.

Next door you were awake, not only that but you were desperate. This had never happened before yet you immediately knew what it was. You had your first heat, and nothing helped, no toy's from the centre, no playing with yourself, no nothing. You had a pillow under your hips probed up at the seams you humped the pillow like your life depended on it.

You mewled as your already sensitive cunt graced over the edge of the pillow. You were close to cuming but you couldn't bring yourself over the edge. That's when you heard Natasha rummaging through the house you're floppy bunny ears twitching up to detect the source of the noise. You waited patiently in your room trying to find some sleep, maybe Natasha could help you out in the morning. But you could feels your juices sticking to the inside of your thighs.

With small steps you made it into Natasha's bed room tears of frustration already building in your eyes threatening to spill over your blushing cheeks. Carefully you climbed into her bed to find her in a deep slumber laying on her back. You sat down on her on her thigh your pussy making contact with her soft skin.

Slowly you started to rhythmically move it against the limp muscles of her thigh small whimpers falling from your throat in between the sobs of frustration paired with the cries of her name and the tears rolling down your cheek it made a whole picture.

Natasha peaceful face scrunched up in confusion of the sensation when she slowly woke from her slumber she was utterly distraught. Her sweet little bunny humping her thigh like a bitch in heat. With careful hands she stopped your hips and you immediately broke out into a new round of sobs and cries.

"Sheesh" she hushed you petting over over your low hanging ears "You're just in heat bunny, it'll be over soon" She assured you when you pressed your face into her neck. "I want it over now!" You cried out "what about the advice the centre gave you?" She tried but feeling you so desperate and need had an affect on her too.

"Doesn't work" You huffed out "I want you to play with me" Nat was startled by the request, was it morally right for her to sleep with you? It was the main point of criticism surrounding owing a hybrid, but what if not the owner but the hybrid wanted it. "Please" you whined and the assassin's strong will broke right there. "Wait here bunny I'll go get something" You nodded and released Natasha from your grace watching her go.

She came back with a noticeable bulge in her sleep shorts, which upon seeing made your thighs clench together. "It's not going to hurt bunny" She assured and got behind you pulling her shorts down to reveal her, to your body size massive, strap on. She pressed the fat tip against your entrance and your hooded eyes flew open in surprise at the shear size of the toy.

"Natty, it's to big" You mewled out your cotton tail twitching "It's not gonna fit" Natasha scoffed shaking her head as if you had just made an outrageous statement. "I'm gonna make it fit bunny" She pushed forward and your bunny hears flew up in surprise of the stretch. You hands dug into the soft pillow underneath your head as you whimpered in a mic of pain and pleasure.

"Natasha!" You cried as she bottomed you out the stretch being much greater than you could've accomplished with your little fingers. "I'm gonna move now bunny" You nodded and felt her starting with a comfortable rhythm which made the pain turn into pleasure.

By your sweet moans she could tell how much you liked it and fastened her pace to finally give you what you wanted. With deep thrusts she stroked your G spot making you see stars as she too enjoyed the feeling of the strap running against her clit. You mewled out some words she couldn’t make out but took at as a sign of approval for her to keep going.

With both of her hands on your hips she forcefully slammed into your tight heat making sure to not actually hurt you. You arched your back one hand sneaking to your neglected bundle of nerves rubbing it in tight circles. “Fuck are you close?” Natasha asked there was a certain tiredness in her voice still. She clenched down harder on the silicone and mewled out “Yes, please”

“Fuck cum with me” with a few more fast thrusts you came first you’re juicing coating the lower stomach of the black widow. She had a surprise for you when you noticed a thick liquid gushing from the strap into your womb as she came. After having cum herself she pulled out to watch in an awe how the white cum was dripping from your stretched out hole.

After having cleaned you up Natasha could finally rest but not without you resigning on her chest of course. Call it what you wanted for Natasha those feelings of affection were real and of no ill intent she just did whatever you wanted to ensure happiness. With that thought and still cum dripping from your hole both you and Natasha fell asleep.

:)

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #lesbian smut #lesbian #wlw ns/fw #marvel woman x reader #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction

[huramuna]

foxfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in. 

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a fox, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 

And so it shall be. 

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #my writing

[rosewould]

pit stop; cyj

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab, blk!reader x yeonjun

🖊️⇝ word count; 8.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; friends 2 lovers, smut, fluff, & light angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; you should probably buy a lottery ticket with how luck you are when it comes to running into celebrities... despite just moving to a new country

🖊️⇝ warnings; very cliche "forbidden love w/ an idol" trope, end is unedited, mc thirsting heavily for mingi, heat of the moment sex, PIV, unprotected sex (mc is on bc), creampie, squirting, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight posessiveness, mc has faux locs at one point

📜⇝ HAPPY BHM!!!!! Would you believe me if I said I started this last BHM? :D Anyways if you're not a black woman you should still read this because it slaps. It would've been even better if I managed to post during valentine's day too.

There are many things that can go wrong in a foreign country all on your own, but for your own health, you push them to the wayside. Maybe you pushed them too far because now you’re stranded with a flat tire miles away from where you’ll be staying. It’s only your first day and you already managed to fuck it up. You have to commend your ability to surprise yourself even after all these years.

You don’t have a local SIM card and your phone is completely off. You should’ve listened to the internet when they gave you a long list of how to prepare your phone when moving abroad. Now it’s useless. You laugh humorlessly as the odds continue to stack against you. Do people stop for hitchhikers in Korea?

You try anyway, you know enough Korean to give them an idea of how to help you. Many cars slow down but zero cars stop. Some even roll down their windows to stare into your eyes as they leave you stranded. You don’t have proof, but you swear one of them took a picture. You can’t be appalled by their actions, it’s not like you came from the most friendly country anyway.

“Come on, people. Just a little slack. Cut me just a little.” You murmur desperately, forcing a strained smile as you wave down another car. It’s another window roller that leaves you behind. You suppose it must be a strange sight. And maybe they’re worried you don’t speak Korean. There you go again, waving any worrying conclusions away. Don’t wanna prove your family right.

Then comes yet another car slowing down. Except, this one is slowing to a stop. It’s a flashy car, much flashier than anything you’ve seen thus far. You don’t know much about cars, but you know the person you see once the window rolls down must be well off. He peeks at you with intrigue and a bit of amusement, his sly vibe fitting for his fox-like features.

“Need help?”

You nearly collapse to your knees in relief. Not only is he stopping to help you but he can speak English so you don’t have to embarrass yourself. “Yes! My car has a flat. My phone doesn’t work, I just need car… service… people.” God, can you speak English? You’re already huffing, looking really weird to this handsome rich man and the other handsome rich man in the passenger seat. 

“Are you a MOA?” Yet another man pokes his head out from the backseat to peek at you. His eyes are critical despite their roundness. He raises his eyebrows in a way that makes you think there’s a wrong answer. Your brain is already overworked for the day so you answer honestly. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what that is.”

Assuming you can’t understand, he mumbles “leave her” in Korean and slinks back into the backseat. 

“I’ll call the car service people for you.” The driver smirks and you can tell he’s making fun of you. You just force a smile and thank the man before retreating back into your car. Shut inside the one space familiar to you feels like finally getting a moment to breathe and reflect. This is just a little hiccup. Soon you’ll be at your new home and next week you’ll be working again. 

You were consumed in a book whenever help arrives, and lifting your head, you notice that flashy car is still there.

Luckily enough, the maintenance truck had an inflated spare available and you were on your way, but not before thanking the driver. As you approach he rolls the window down again before leaning his arm on the door.

“Thank you so much, I’m not sure how long I would’ve been out here if you didn’t help me.” You sigh. You weren’t sure what you could offer him to express your gratitude, you were pretty useless as of now. 

“It’s no problem. The least I can ask for is that you don’t tell anyone you saw us here.”

You have trouble keeping a smile on your face as a hint of dread sets in. Why wouldn’t they be allowed in the countryside? Were they criminals? Is this a common location for crime?

“I know you don’t know us yet, but in case you find out from the internet, just keep this between us.”

You did not find out from the internet. You found out eight days later when you saw a cardboard cut out of the driver in the mall. Holding up a makeup product he didn’t need with a smile that almost hides the eternal mischief hidden in his expression both times you’ve seen him. This whole time you thought they were notorious criminals and you were going to get booked before you even stepped foot at home. But no, the nice car was from them being idols, not criminals.

Maybe you were a bit in the dark about k-pop idols, but why weren’t they allowed to drive around? You hold that thought, possibly forever because you had just experienced a pretty rare occurrence so early into your move.  

-🖊️⇝

Tonight was your first office party since your move. Your boss saved up to rent out a hotel venue and even scored you and your coworkers rooms for the night. Less risky without the threat of drunk driving or getting kidnapped you guess.

“I could only book the ballroom today, so I’m sorry but you can’t wander around. You can only go in this room and the floor where your rooms are located. There’s a celebrity staying here and the hotel is pretty much on lockdown.”

Your coworkers immediately get to gossiping about who’s here and all you can do is marvel at the odds. There was no way you’d be meeting another celebrity. The odds are even more unfathomable than you previously thought. You break the rules on accident, drunkenly tapping the wrong floor number. Your eyes are closed when you stumble out and run into someone tall. 

“Um, this floor is… off limits.” The man grabs you by your shoulders and holds you at arm's length. Your head lolls back and you get a good look at the guy and he, in turn, gets a glimpse of you. His jaw drops open and he looks over to the other men behind him. Your brain had been too debilitated to translate Korean. 

“Hey! Are you that girl? Flat tire?” A familiar voice rings out and snaps you from your daze and you attempt to hold your head up straight. “Yeah! Car service people!” The driver whose name you’re sure starts with a Y says excitedly. Again with the mischief, sticking its pesky little head out more confidently with the teasing nickname.

“No way it’s you guys again.” You chuckle drowsily.

“Yes way!” The blond man lets go of your shoulders.

“Are you a MOA yet?” It was the one from the backseat asking the same question yet again. It completely slipped your mind to figure out what that meant.

“I still have no idea what that is.” You flash a tight smile as he narrows his eyes at you. One of the two you haven’t spoken to yet says something frantically to the others in Korean before they all turn to look at you. 

“Hey… do you want some water?” Y approaches you, speaking almost like he’s about to sell you something. Your eyes roll back, your urge to rest almost winning the fight.

“I want to go to sleep.”

“Let’s get you some water!” The blond one says enthusiastically before ushering you into a door down the hall. They talk to each other as you gulp down a cold bottle of water, slumped in the living chair they frantically cleared for you. This would help with your hangover tomorrow anyway. After they deliberate with themselves Y turns to you.

“Is your party still happening?” He kneels before you, talking to you like a lost child.

“Yeah, I left early.”

“Great! We were gonna sneak down there ourselves, but you going back would be easier.”

“You want me to go back?” You barely swallow your water before you ask. “Yeah. All we were given was fruit. We can’t survive on fruit and the food smells so good.” He pleads with his eyes before the blond chips in. 

“Please? We’re hungry.”

Downing your second bottle, you look at them warily as your mind sobers up. “You guys are famous. Can’t you just get room service?”

“No, we’re banned from it. They told the hotel not to serve us.” The black-haired one who looks to be the tallest or close to it pipes in. Much too massive for his youthful vibe.

You look at each pair of puppy eyes incredulously. “So they’re starving you?”

Yeonjun is quick to clear the air, starting to explain again that they had fruit before Mr. MOA interrupts him. “Yes!! We’re starving!” His whining is cut off by the blond scolding him.

“What are your names?” You ask once you realize you have no idea. 

You learn each of their names and each of the food items they want brought to them. You have five styrofoam containers filled to the brim in both arms as you board the elevator. You’re aware they’re exaggerating, but concern for them still flares up. They were pretty thin, and you’ve heard whispers of their insane diets. But you do what you do best. They seem fine, and they wouldn’t have the energy they’re exhibiting currently if something was wrong.

Thankfully, no one was on there with you. That is, until you see that someone had pressed the button from your floor. You stand there awkwardly as your coworker looks at you like you have five heads. Then he sees that you’ve pressed the button for a forbidden floor.

“K-pop fan?”

You sigh, shifting the containers in your hands. “No. I’m acting as a food delivery service.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t press you, nor will he say anything. None of your coworkers are the type. The idols are waiting impatiently by the elevator when the door opens, hurriedly unloading each container.

How you ended up with five grown men in your hotel room was really a blur. Apparently their manager might walk in and bust them if they stay in their room. “We’ll be quick!” They promised.

Now Beomgyu and Kai are napping on your bed while you lean against the wall. Yeonjun’s eating whatever is left over in the living chair in the corner, smiling happily at you. 

“I love you. I could kiss you.” He manages with his cheeks full of food. 

You give him a tight smile, familiar with his habitual attempts to fluster you by now. “That’s not necessary. Your manager is probably looking for you guys.”

“Nah. We’re allowed to wander around as long as we’re in our room before 1 am. Today was our last day.” You chew on his words as he chews on the remnants of his food. He swallows hard, forcing what seems to be a painfully large chunk of food down his throat. Food seems to placate his teasing disposition, a thought that makes you cover your mouth to conceal your smirk. It takes a moment for him to recuperate before he speaks again.

"What do you wanna do right now?" He narrows his eyes, pointing his plastic cutlery at you.

You’re not sure what he means exactly, even after taking a moment to let your eyes flit around the room. So you do what you usually do, shrug and be honest. "Around this time I'd be playing some game until my eyes are painfully dry."

He halts mid container disposal to peer at you excitedly. "You play video games? Which ones?"

Finally, something you were a natural at talking about. "I like games like Minecraft or Rust, but I dabble in FPS games too-" You get caught up in one of your favorite conversation topics, surprised when Yeonjun dumps his trash quickly before marching over to you and taking your hands.

"Oh please tell me you play Valorant."

"Yeah, like I said, I dabble-"

"Okay, I'm really gonna kiss you."

“Don’t you dare-” Your words are cut off by a chaotic mixture of a gasp and laugh when he pokes his lips out, leaning in slowly. He unpuckers his lips and they settle into a smirk. The realization of how close you are to each other sets in and brings about a strong flow of energy between you two. You shake his hands off yours and shove him away, forcibly resuming your playful aura. He laughs, widening his eyes once it dies down.

“Oh, I cannot wait to kick your ass.” He points, eyes posing as a warning. You huff as you pick up a towel. You sling it over your shoulder before raising your eyebrows at him. “Is that a bet or a promise?” 

And to think if your office party was planned even a day later, you would’ve probably never seen them again. Yeonjun nabs your phone while you were in the bathroom, sticking his number in there. The first important milestone of your relationship with the boys was being added to their group chat. Then you visited their dorms and them, your apartment. You weren’t aware of the transition, you just looked up and it felt natural to be around each other.

“___’s on!” Yeonjun cheers through your headset. He pauses once you turn on your webcam. “You found a hairstylist?”

“Yeah. Turns out there are black ones here. I never knew.” You reply, half paying attention as you adjust your camera.

“I know there’s a Korean name for that style but I feel like it’s… not correct. What’s it called in English?”

“Locs! Do you like ‘em?” You comb your fingers through each loc, careful not to tug at your tender scalp. “They fit you so well I forgot how you looked before.” He says as if he’s shocked by his own accuracy.

“You’re so right. I should’ve popped out the womb with locs.” You chuckle to yourself, unable to stop playing with your hair. Yeonjun has that look on his face like he’s about to smart-mouth you. “Locs and not wounding your own teammates would’ve been really handy.” He tries to quip quickly in an attempt to fly under your radar.

Your smile is immediately wiped off your face. “It was an off day for me, how many times do we have to go over this?”

“Next time your favorite character dies don’t come online.”

“I knew I should’ve hung out with Taehyun today.” You transition from excitement to insults like it's nothing. These boys definitely make it easy.

“Yeah, whatever. Are you coming to Mingi’s party next week or do you have work.” He says as if the word itself affronted him. New names were constantly thrown at you. You took a break from researching and watching videos because it was just too much. 

“Why are you always so offended by my job? And I’ll see if I can make it.”

It makes it even harder to consume content about these idols when you think of what they go through. From these five alone, you can tell how hungry these idols are to be in this position. They put up with so much and you can’t help thinking their companies take advantage of that.

“You know, you never told me why you weren’t allowed to drive around the day we met.”

An effortless transition is made again as Yeonjun sets aside his teasing. “We have a lot of rules. Like, a lot. It’s no problem, we all knew what we were signing up for pretty much. It feels kinda pointless to go through all that work just to get in trouble, so we hold each other accountable.”

“I’m guessing that’s not counting the hotel food heist?” You bring up with a snort. It feels a little silly to make an exception for food.

“That was a small rule, and we just finished the final concert of a very tiring tour. The day we met I rented a car after a full month of grueling practice hours with little to no sleep. We were hysterical. So we took a ride.”

The boys seem alright. They’re full of life most days and with no context, you would have no idea what they’re going through. He informs you that this party is another one of those exceptions. There are secret parties thrown constantly but it was reckless to go without thorough planning. You like the thought of them getting a proper break and they really want you to come, so you do what you never do: call in fake sick to work.

But not before attempting a little research. Perhaps a different approach would help. You’re picking at scraps since you only have one internet friend who likes kpop. What if they never heard of him?

___: Y’all who is Mingi

You sent out the tweet before you went to sleep. You had just gotten your ass handed to you on Valorant so you didn’t feel like being let down that same night. You woke up to more notifications you’ve seen on all your social media accounts combined.

mingitzsong: you mean our lightskin king Malik???

That was not the tweet you expected from your friend, not by a long shot. Nor were you expecting the “my moot has a hit tweet!” DM.

Your notifications were flooded with fancams, edits, pictures– is that a video of him grabbing his…?

It was too early and you had gone too long without being satisfied by another person so this was all going to your head. You couldn’t tell if you were a stan now or just horny. You wanted him on your wall… or inside you. 

So maybe that was the real reason you were okay with lying to your boss, but it was much more touching to say it was to please your friends. 

-🖊️⇝

You enter the function excited to see the guys. Mingi too, but you were trying to seem less eager about that. You find the two youngest members first talking to a group of unfamiliar people. You try to sneak past, intending to say hi when there weren’t people to be introduced to. But alas, they saw you and you met a few idols their age. Then you run into Soobin coming out of the bathroom. “You made it!” His excited smile was ten times cuter when he was tipsy. He pulls you into a big tight hug and it’s so unlike him. He seemed to have an aversion to touching anyone when it wasn’t necessary. Drunk Soobin was unbearably adorable and it took everything in you to not stay with him and pinch his cheeks. But you needed to find the other members.

The club Mingi rented out is not ideal for finding friends. There are two floors and this is your third time walking down the stairs. You haven’t even seen the host himself yet. With his height, it shouldn’t be easy to miss him. As you walk past the large dance floor you become privy to the reason you haven’t found them. Your head naturally lowers, your eyes automatically avoiding the dancing bodies. It wasn’t your fault, your tendency to avoid large groups of people is written deep inside your DNA. It was time to stop beating around the bush, so you enter the group of dancing bodies. 

It felt like miles of grazing people despite trying your best to shrink into yourself. In the heart of the group were the three you were looking for. They were lost in the music and possibly a bit drunk. Yeonjun casts a glance to see who was approaching before wordlessly holding out his hand. You accept with exaggerated confidence, fake it ‘til you make it. It was easier than you thought to dance smack dab in the middle of the dance floor. Your focus had been locked on the tall man before you, your body on autopilot as it sways to the music. He guides you closer by your hand with undoubtedly genuine confidence sewn into his smirk. You find yourself naturally smiling, unable to shake the shyness that overcomes you. He was doing it again, but this time you took the bait and let yourself be reeled up to shore. Forced out of your comfort zone, but you couldn’t find it in you to complain.

“Who is that?” You hear a deep masculine voice say to your left. Your eyes stay glued to Yeonjun like you’re physically unable to look away, and you swear he’s having the same problem. But you eventually do. Mingi is still looking at Beomgyu until he answers, only then does he grace you with eye contact. The wind is pulled from your lungs as you gasp. You were too distracted by Yeonjun to fully bask in his glory.

“Well. Here he is in person.” Yeonjun fails to pull your attention away even when he rests his hand on your shoulder. “This is ___.”

Mingi makes a sound of understanding, nodding as he not so subtly rakes his eyes up and down your body. It takes everything in you not to shiver. He repeats your name with a small smile that makes your heart skip rope. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly before rising with his cheeks squinting his eyes. “I’m a rapper, my group is called ATEEZ.” 

I know, you’re tempted to say. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You bow back, restraining the locs that fall over your eyes. 

“You’re… very beautiful.” His eyes fall again, taking their time coming back to your face before flashing a seductive smirk. You bite your lip, acute amounts of shame stirring with the arousal in your belly as the tension thickens in such a public space.

The members of TXT are long forgotten as you’re sat at the bar with the handsome Mingi. You talk for hours, though it’s mostly flirting and subtle invitations. As much as you can communicate with your limited Korean. You’re glad it’s gotten good enough that you can understand what he tells you next. According to Mingi, there are no restrictions in his company when it comes to doing… it. If they’re of age, they can do whoever they want to their heart’s content. As long as they’re not reckless. TXT has to plan in advance for your visits and they have three emergency escape or hide strategies just in case. That’s just for being seen with you.

There’s heat brewing between your legs. You’d be a huge liar if you said being around handsome men that you couldn’t think about touching wasn’t slightly torturous. Not even a little tipsy quicky you could pretend didn’t happen. No kissing. Hugging was even a stretch. Even if there’s a fuckload of chemistry, gotta ignore it. But this man, the same one you’ve been fantasizing about, can touch you in ways that has heat traveling throughout your entire body.

“What do you think?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrows. You agree in a way you hope doesn’t seem desperate, but in the end who cares? Not you when he leans closer, taking a moment to take in a quick breath before closing the distance. Butterflies swirl and thrash in your stomach as excitement takes over. It’s your fault the kiss escalates but you still can’t care about shame when your dreams are coming true. 

His tongue feels like heaven against yours, sinfully wet to the point where you can’t help thinking of it somewhere else. He inhales deeply through his nose and you can feel the ensuing groan in your spine.

A frantic voice pulls the two of you apart, someone talking about an emergency. He and Mingi share an exchange before Mingi looks back at you. He sighs disappointedly. “Ah, I’m sorry. Maybe next time.” He winks before being whisked away, vanishing like he did every morning when your sweet dreams slip between your fingers.

You and Yeonjun don’t see each other for the rest of the party, you stay at the bar to sulk. Yeonjun was buzzing after the brief dance you shared. Your hand was so soft, and the way you looked at him… he’d never seen that from you before. If no one had taken your attention he doesn’t know what might’ve happened. He shakes the thought away as if it were a physical intrusion. 

When you kept asking about Mingi before the party, Yeonjun thought nothing of it. You were basically clueless about the industry and he was happy to fill you in. But the way you looked at him, sure it wasn’t as loaded or intimate (or unprovocative) but you looked starstruck. It would sting a little if you didn’t become a fan from their music but from someone else’s.

Yeonjun’s body had become entirely tense, unable to dance in a carefree way after you took over his mind. There was a whole lot of conflict going on in his brain but not a lot of solutions. What does it matter? It’s not like you’re gonna stop being friends with them. You’ve given their home life a level of excitement and joy that it hasn’t reached before, and they didn’t have to train for months to receive it. All Yeonjun had to do was kick back, look over with a smile to see that you’re smiling back. 

The next time you see each other is outside the club next to their van. “Hey, you disappeared.” Yeonjun shoves his hands in his pockets before nudging you with his elbow. You glance up at him, but it’s like your neck’s made of rubber. Drunk like him, but way worse at concealing it. Soobin explains that he found you by the bar and decided to help get you home. 

In the backseat between Yeonjun and Taehyun, you’re restless. You keep whining and fidgeting until Taehyun asks you what’s wrong. “I’m just frustrated.”

Confused by this progression, Yeonjun turns toward you with a curious frown. “Did something happen with Mingi?”

“He had to leave.” You whimper before letting your head fall on Yeonjun’s shoulder. When you lift your face to look at him you’re way too close for it not to be a problem. He’s hesitant, but Yeonjun allows his face to linger in this dangerous proximity. “I’m still a little worked up.” Your eyes flit down to his lips and he gasps lightly. He casts a quick glance at his members. Taehyun was looking down into his lap, brows tight. The other members seem to be minding their own business. Getting the idea before he even looks back at you, Yeonjun’s heart flips.

When he turns his head again you scoot closer. The lights of the city whiz past, shadows obscuring your features before painting them in vibrant hues. Each aspect of your face that he tried not to think about lay before him in a way so breathtaking he can’t think straight. He usually stops himself by now out of fear that he’ll become obsessed with you. Then he feels the tip of your nose brush against his, signaling how close he is to breaching an important rule. Just then, the van passes through a tunnel, cloaking the entire vehicle in a dimmer light. His heart stills, time stills as the drowsy look wipes off your face. You pull back a bit to flash him a genuine look. As if you’re also considering this.

Yeonjun is closing in just as the van leaves the tunnel, moving fast but not fast enough.

“Hey, break it up!” A bright light is flashed in both your faces. Yeonjun squints and blocks the light, unable to pull away from you because it feels like snuffing out this flame will leave him stranded in the tundra. But Soobin sounded frantic, and he’d hate to stress out his friend and leader. So he pulls away and he’s right. It’s frigid and cold.

“What happened?” Kai sits up from his chair and glances at Soobin before peering at the back seat.

Soobin sighs, clearly hesitant to report this. “He almost kissed her.”

Their reactions vary from shocked to worried to a little frustrated. “That’s like… the biggest thing, hyung.” Soobin pleads for Yeonjun’s understanding with his eyes. Yeonjun nips at his top lip, unable to curb his embarrassment and disappointment. “I know, I know.” He sends a hand through his hair frustratedly.

You sit stiffly between the two men as Taehyun gears up to say something. All this for a kiss? One you were admittedly excited for. Still, you don’t have it in you to get angry at them. Like Yeonjun said. They worked hard for this. It’s silly to risk it all over a kiss. Even if that label makes your heart sink.

“You guys know I won’t say anything. I’m already risking getting fired over driving you here.” The driver pipes up as he casts a quick glance at the rearview mirror. 

“It’s not about that, we can’t slip up.” Taehyun finally speaks, eyes cutting at Yeonjun. “At all.”

“I said I know.” Yeonjun speaks with more conviction that raises the tension considerably. Everyone else in the car can feel it. You send nervous glances to the other three who seem to be doing the same. “It’s fine! We’ve all been drinking, so.” Kai tries, his nervous smile flickering out when he looks back. Taehyun has his jaw clenched as he stares out the window and Yeonjun is clearly pissed off.

“Exactly, let’s just drop it. Nothing happened anyway.” Soobin adds authoritatively, looking back at the two who don’t return his glance.

Everyone does as much, leaving the car unbearably quiet. When you arrive at your apartment you say quiet goodbyes to everyone including Jun who gives you a cautious and almost apologetic look. “I’ll come with you.” Soobin grunts as he stands from his seat. 

Yeonjun watches helplessly as you both exit the car and Soobin walks you to the door. He would’ve offered before the car even stopped. But this isn’t only about him. A scandal could harm the entire group.

-🖊️⇝

Five months. You haven’t been laid in five months. Then here comes this 6ft-something man with puppy dog tendencies who turns on the sex appeal like it’s nothing, stirring up your emotions to this degree. 

You tie half of your locs up before tugging two down to frame your face. You bite your lip as you take in your appearance, a little shocked at how good everything came out. “What do you think? Should I add anything else?”

Things have been a little stiffer between you and Yeonjun. You still hang out but you both can feel it looming. The chemistry. The tension. The threat of jumping each other’s bones at a moment’s notice. Yeonjun doesn’t want to drag his members down because of a rash decision. He’s not sure what’s going through your mind but he can see the conflict in your eyes.

Yeonjun considers helping you. Immediately he’d recommend a choker. It’s hard for him to quell the thoughts about how good your neck looks with a piece of fabric wrapped tightly around it. Then he would suggest going for gloss instead of lipstick, but perhaps he should stop thinking about your neck and lips while he’s ahead. Also, this is all to help Mingi. Valentine’s day has passed, but it’s a miracle if an idol is free then anyway. This is essentially their valentine’s day plans, it’s a thought that presents a lingering bitter taste in his mouth. But he knows better, so he keeps those thoughts to himself.

“Yeah, it looks good like that.” He says as plainly as he can. Like a friend should.

You turn in your chair and rest your arm on the back. He looks really tired today. You can tell it’s one of those weeks that are really beating down on him. This is the most severe you’ve seen it get with your own eyes.

“You’re usually good at helping me with my looks.” It’s true that you’re cautious as well, but if he could have one moment to not be worried about one hundred things at once, you really want it to be with you. 

“You did pretty well on your own.” His shrug does nothing to shield how disingenuous he’s being. You give him a knowing look, deciding to probe just a little. 

“You know you can take a nap on my bed while I’m gone.”

“I’m good.” He assures with a smile meant to be soft but ends up strained. “Text me if you need anything or if something goes wrong.”

No, no. That’s the last thing you need. Him needing to have his guard up around you and still being so courteous. “I have other friends that I can text. You go play video games or relax or something.”

“Oh yeah? Name someone that isn’t an idol, quickly.” His tense demeanor melts just for a second, just to poke back. You give a short, dry laugh. Knowing very well you didn’t have an answer. Non-idol friends would do you some good. You think for a moment before replying half-jokingly.

“How about I call your leader instead and tell him to come take you home.”

Yeonjun stands from the bed, walking over with a look that you recognize by now. He’s thinking about it again. Kissing you or touching you. “I wanna be here when you get back.” He’s not sure why. You’re not gonna be drinking and Mingi is a gentleman, he’ll make sure you get home safe. 

You’re acutely aware you must be looking at him the same way, which means you’re both in danger of breaking the biggest rule. He’s tired and probably unbelievably frustrated. And he wants it so bad. You can practically smell the arousal when you two get like this. Hell, you want it too. Sleeping with someone who’s been stifled for years and is finally able to let loose? The sex would be unforgettable. The thought permeates in your mind, strong enough to overshadow your habit of pushing all this to the wayside. You stand from the chair.

“Why? I’ll be alright.” You blink, unaware of how cute you look peering through your lashes. Despite his notes, you did do a great job. Fuck a choker or lip gloss, if you showed up to a date looking like this, he’d lose all ability to function.

“You look so beautiful.” He breathes out, but how genuine he is shines through. This was more intimate than the dance or the almost kiss. HIs eyes have a slight sheen as they gaze down at you earnestly.

“That means a lot, Jun. Thank you.”

Yeonjun, instead of responding, takes your shirt strap that had fallen down your shoulder in between his fingers. He slowly moves it back up, hand brushing lightly against your soft skin. You’re cold to the touch, your body being chilled by your air conditioner. How long would it be until you were properly warmed up? Too long.

“I don’t think I can handle you looking like this for someone else.” The words roll off his tongue, feeling as though someone else had said them. He looks over at your eyes from your strap, the touched shock on your face confirming that it was real. It happens quickly, the rationalization. You shut up the part of your brain urging you to run away from the conflict and tug Yeonjun closer by his shirt. His hands move to your face and the two of you linger there, either giving this a second thought or wondering if this was really happening. You lean in, feeling his breath fanning only to jerk back suddenly. Your lips brush against each other first before they finally meld, finally connecting in the way you both truly craved.

He’s so expressive, you can feel the longing, hear the pent up frustration leaving him with every heavy sigh. You chase each other’s lips instantly after each disconnect as if the kiss is providing oxygen rather than inhibiting it. There was that heat again, warming his frigid body as you wrap your arms around him and urge him closer. 

He pulls away, the impish fox you know well looking so unfamiliar. His eyes pleading and blown out, his pretty lips pink and swollen. You impatiently pull him back in and you feel the same warmth he is. Except it’s burning you up. Both of you feel like you’re being swallowed by a large flame as your tongues circle each other. He lets out a wanton moan that has your core clenching. “Taste so good.” His voice is nearly inaudible, murmured between kisses.

Pushing your straps down your arms, he undoes his recent action. He pushes your dress over your breasts but he’s too consumed by the kiss to look down. His hands envelope the flesh held by your bra as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Things are escalating quickly but you grow frustrated that he isn’t inside you already. You’ve both waited long enough.

“Fuck me, please.” You beg, eyebrows slanting as you let your pride go for just a moment. You reach down and tug at the waistband of his sweats, feeling a little justified as he returns your desperation with his eyes. With his hands kneading your breasts and your fingers clenching his pants you stare into each other’s eyes. No words exchanged but you each understand loud and clear that you need each other. Bad. As his face draws closer you try again. “Fuck me.” You whisper as he nuzzles your nose. 

You’re begging for it but Yeonjun can’t decide how he wants you first. He shuts his eyes and imagines your body bent in half, your as lifted into the air. Presented just for him. His cock throb and he squeezes your breast. Your ensuing moan almost pushes him to throw you onto the bed. But then he imagines the moonlight bleeding through the curtains and painting your body. The lights of the cars that speed past illuminating your umber tinted nipples that perk up nice and hardened for him.

The fantasy draws more and more saliva onto his tongue that rolls off onto yours. Your tongues tangle in a horny mess. If anyone saw what the two of you were doing they’d probably be confused, but both of your faces are scorching and the spaces between your legs are throbbing. Yeonjun is on his tenth fantasy on how he wants to pose you when he starts whimpering. You grab his crotch and return the squeeze he’s been giving your breasts. He finally unlatches from your lips to toss his head back, letting out the loudest moan of the evening. You kiss down his throat, feeling the vibrations of his pretty sounds. It’s taking every atom inside your body to not bite and suck, instead you ghost your teeth over his supple skin. 

As his moans transition to groans and growls his actions become more rough. He grabs your wrist to keep your hand steady as he grinds into it. His nails pierce your breast and it’s your turn to whimper. He yanks your hand off of him and moves his own to your waist, finally guiding you over to the bed. In every fleeting fantasy he had there was one thing either missing or integral. The very look on your face you have now as he’s moving over you. Your dark eyes are so doe-like yet so sinful. They yearn for him, yet dare him. 

The taking off of your clothes is agonizingly slow. It doesn’t matter that you’re both rushing to the point that you almost rip each other’s shirts. It’s still torturous. His long cock bobs as he repositions himself, a drop of precum dribbling from his tip and shining in the light. His nails dig into you yet again as your legs are hoisted on either side of your head. Every time he grips so forcefully you wish he’d do it harder, squeeze you until you fuse together.

You get as close as you can to that wish when his tip cards between your lips. You jolt, surprised by your own sensitivity. Yes, it’s been a long time, but it’s not that. Your clit and lips are so swollen that they ache. You feel like your molten juice will pour out of you at any moment. You hold your legs in place as Yeonjun lowers onto his forearms, bringing his face closer to yours. You’ve already stuck your tongue down his throat and gripped his cock, but there’s something strangely intimate about his bangs brushing against your forehead. He watches you intently as he slowly pushes in. You gasp, as if the heat radiating off his cock is actually singing you as he slides in. 

Yeonjun releases his lip from his teeth as a deep groan forces its way out from the depths of his core. Your pussy swallows him whole, so devastatingly wet that it coats your outer lips and coaxes him in with ease. The urge to crack a window, shove the comforter and sheets off the bed, anything to quell the overwhelming heat is a fleeting thought for the both of you. It’s quickly replaced by the gnawing need to feel every part of each other. To get deep. Yeonjun arches his back and pushes his hips in until you’re yelping and your hips buck uncontrollably.

Then something snaps and a rhythm takes over Yeonjun’s body. His hips snap toward yours at the perfect pace that has you clawing down his back. You feel his skin under your fingernails. 

Your hips desperately chase after him, fingers fumbling over your achy clit. It’s a blurred frenzy that neither of you can completely process as real. Your brains are turned off anyway, blindly chasing pleasure and that orgasm so sweet your teeth go numb at the thought.

The height of the pleasure makes each pump of his cock maddening. It’s so good you both almost want it to stop. The pleasure spikes higher, making your moans peak in pitch. Your grip falters on your thighs as your legs start to quake. 

“I can’t– I can’t!” Your mumbles are nearly incoherent between your shrieky whimpers. A knot squeezes so tight in your lower belly it feels like a large, heavy ball. Yeonjun grits out moans as his eyebrows furrow. The pleading look is so sexy, the desperation in his voice. His fucking cock is inside you. It’s so deep inside you.

“C-cumming!” Your thighs slip from your hands as a violent tremor sweeps through your body. The knot snaps and you feel hot liquid spewing from your cunt. Yeonjun fucks through the pressure, sharp profanities shoot off his tongue. He claws at your thighs and his thrusts transition to slow and punishing. The myriad of noises flooding from your lips don’t lower in intensity. The pleasure barely plateaus and you’re right back in the trenches. 

“Fuck! Yeonjun, fuck!” You squeal. His hand crawls up from between your breasts to your throat. “You’re taking it so well, you’re perfect.” His voice cracks, the sincerity in his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“You’re so, so perfect.” His body drops closer to yours, his voice tickling against your ear. His thrusts pick up with his fractured moans. You can tell just how much is being released as he fucks you. It’s just as magical as you imagined, watching him let loose like this. But the twitch in his brow bothers you. His muscles are tight, his shoulders tense. You let out a serene sigh.

“Let it all out, Junnie.” You run your hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles loosen under your fingers. His eyes flutter shut, mimicking your serene sigh. He doesn’t get to rest for long. The conflict wracking his body this time is different. His cock is twitching inside you.

Your clumsy hands travel all over his shoulders, neck, and land on his face. His hips start to fracture from their rhythm and his face occasionally pinches. You caress him, wanting to bottle up the version of him that’s close to cumming. 

You press a tender, wet kiss to his lips. “Cum inside me.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he has no clue you’re on birth control. So when the most guttural moan erupts from his chest it catches you off guard. His hips grind down against yours, his cock throbbing as it pumps you even fuller. Your sweaty bodies stay like that for a moment, not long enough for your sensitivity to wane. He pulls out, unplugging your hole for all the fluids to flow out.

His cock is heavy against your clit, so heavy that it triggers your sensitivity. You close your legs around him and turn your head into your pillow. He flows you, planting a long kiss on your lips as he grinds his cock into your mound. 

“Jun,” you tap at the mattress, the excruciating pleasure taking you to another planet. 

“I love your pussy.” He finally pulls away and the rigidity of your body eases. You let out a shaky breath, eyeing him as moves down your body. He glances up at you with his mouth hovering over your tired pussy. “It’s mine.” His eyes flutter shut as he kisses your mound wetly. A sharp moan rockets out of you. Your head shoots backward and your thighs threaten to close around him. That was just the teaser.

His tongue delves in to scoop out his and your essence. You’re in awe of the dirtiness of his actions and the lengths he’s willing to push you. All while staring you right in the eyes. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you push at his head.

He hums before lifting away. “You want me to stop?”

“N-no!” You reply instantly, a laugh bubbling out of both of you. It was ridiculous at this point. Yeonjun curls his tongue inside of you until he’s satisfied with how clean he got you. He lifts up, giving only a glimpse of his sullied face before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He crawls back up and you groan. 

“No, we’re both gross, don't lay back down.”

He grumbles ‘give me an hour’, making you both laugh. It’s comforting, a crackling fire lulling you both to sleep.

You gasp loudly, shooting upright.

“Mingi!”

-🖊️⇝

If only you hadn’t done that. The vibes after the sex were immaculate. Now things are tense again as Yeonjun gets you ready to meet with Mingi. His hands run over your sudsy body, making sure you’re squeaky clean. He helps you with your bra, even helps you pick out a new outfit. When all is said and done, you’re back to looking at each other through the mirror. He sighs.

“Go ahead and text him you’re ready.”

You pull your phone out, finding you’re just flipping it over in your hands instead of unlocking it. You chew on your lip, your heart beating so intensely it’s debilitating. 

“I’m ready.” You rush out, thinking for a moment before turning to actually look at him. Yeonjun breathes a laugh with a smirk.

“I said tell him, not me.”

“Why? You’re my date.” Your smile beams brighter than you mean it to. It’s all fine because he returns its luminosity. 

“I’m down for that. I’m too fatigued to go anywhere, though.”

“I know, I really tuckered you out didn’t I?” You cock an eyebrow at him, doing your best impression of a sly fox you know.

“Okay, but who made who squirt?”

You shove him, making him chuckle as he catches himself. You quickly leave the bedroom, turning to shout back at him. 

“I’m watching the movie without you.”

He chases after you and you just barely evade him to sit on the cough first. He dives next to you, snuggling up close and nuzzling his forehead into yours. It’s something he used to do to annoy you, and though you’re tonguing your cheek, your heart is fluttering. 

You watch the rest of the movie hugging his arm with your head on his shoulder. As the credits roll, is the first to talk in thirty minutes.

“It was always gonna be us.” Yeonjun chuckles. “We both knew it from the moment in your hotel room. Fuck it, I might’ve thought about it when I first saw you.”

You crane your head to look at him, his sharp eyes already on you. There’s a softness to them.

Multiple fists thundering against your door makes you both jump. 

“Open up! Yeonjun has been here for way too long!” Identifying Soobin’s voice dulls the alarm bells blaring in both your heads.

Yeonjun trudges over to let them in, sulking back to the couch as the four younger book it past him. Beomgyu launches himself on the couch and asks what “we’re” watching. Kai is close behind, snatching the remote before Beomgyu could even think to grab it. They argue over that as Soobin sits down, rubbing his temples. He sinks into the couch as you sit beside him. You can feel Yeonjun’s warmth on your left and you bite your lip trying to ignore it. 

“And just what were you doing here all alone?” Soobin’s eyes slowly pan over to the two people sitting suspiciously close to each other. You both shrug, mumbling something about movies and ice cream.

Taehyun sighs, squeezing his ass in between the both of you until you’re forced to part. You just roll your eyes, ignoring it for now. The movie watching experience with these five was always chaotic. Chaotic enough that you and Yeonjun could sneak glances at each other with no one noticing. The noise dissipates as you get lost in each other’s eyes. You both smile.

#poor mingi T___T #txt #yeonjun #smut #kpop #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #txt smut #kpop smut #choi yeonjun smut #txt yeonjun smut

[cozymoko]

Wait you write for Kamisama kiss??? OMG Tomoe's been my crush for years 😭 omg if it's okay with you then can I have general yandere headcannons about everyone's favourite fox boy?? 🌕 Anon

YANDERE TOMOE HEADCANONS

Note: I also love Tomoe. Btw this might suck because I'm bad at general anything.

Pronouns used: feminine, she/her (for convenience)

WARNING(S): yandere themes, slightly suggestive

YOKAI

Possessive, Manipulative, Violent (to others)

AS A ROUGUE YOKAI, pledging his loyalty to others never truly appealed to him; to a woman nonetheless. Being a formidable demon never called for such requirements.

You were feisty, pointing the round end of your broom in his direction. You knew not of who was there, yokai or human but you feigned confidence. The trembling of your hands gave it away, you were scared as one would be. “Who's there?”

The pale moonlight peeked through the few windows lining the walls, carefully calling attention to your features. You were easy on the eyes and yet so hard to look at. Your eyes were glassy and narrowed into thin slits. Your legs shook violently in anticipation for him to reveal himself as you hugged the broom flush against your chest. Such a look didn't suit you.

Having mercy on you, he decided to cut his fun a little short.

As one does, Tomoe made his way to a brothel which he was fairly acquainted with. All in a pitiful attempt to find solace amongst the predatory gazes of the women occupying it. But alas, he could not. With every look upon their faces twisted into one that mimicked your own. Captivating and seemingly kind, tempting him to reach out and touch it.

Tomoe is no fool. His emotions are evident, terribly so. He longs for a human woman and there's no need to deny it. Your image has been engraved in his memory down to every last detail. Women who were not you could no longer soothe his mind as they appeared lackluster in comparison.

Thus, he sought after you. In the middle of the night, he was whisked away by the chilly wind in search of the woman. Your scent was heavy on his mind, leading him back to the small cabin you resided in. His footsteps were night, almost silent as he entered your home, searching for you.

To his luck, there you were. Rolled up in a cotton futon, lulled by the chirps of noisy crickets. Yes, he's decided; You are his and no one else's. Tomoe isn't one for sharing and he'll make sure you're aware.

Akura-ou was quick to find out about your existence, which was a pain within itself. He would toy with you just to get under Tomoe's skin. It's not every day you get to see your moody "counterpart" fall so hard for someone, let alone a human. Anyhow, those who've tormented you weren't as fortunate as Akura-ou, serving a far more unpleasant demise for their actions.

If not for you, Tomoe wouldn't hesitate to massacre every man who looks your way. Having good-looking women by his side is nothing he isn't used to, yet, you are different. As his woman, he wouldn't want someone to so much as breathe the same air as you. The mere thought renders him ill.

Although, if you ask him not to he'll try his best to listen to your wishes. Keyword: try. He would never want to upset you, oh not at all! However he's only "human", even he has his limits.

No matter how he may terrify you, running is NOT an option. You will never be too far from his grasp. As long as his heart is beating, no one will ever have his heart. The fox demon is a bit too eager to show how he got his reputation in the Yokai world. As his other half, why don't you sit down and watch for a while?

“Foolish girl, when will you finally understand that your efforts are futile? Your cries may pain me but if I must tie you down to keep you. Then I shall.”

FAMILIAR

Loyal, Overprotective, Posessive

BEFORE HE MET YOU HE WAS A YOKAI, drowning in a pit of endless grief. Though not a powerful God, you held enough power to help the lost kitsune. You, determined to save him, kissed him and made Tomoe you familiar. For that, he was forever grateful.

Sure his bloodlust has been soothed over the decades, but it doesn't cease to exist. However, betrayal has never crossed his mind. His loyalty to you runs deeper than the blood that courses through veins. He is bound to you for life and he will serve you until greeted by death's embrace

He still finds you to be a subpar God in nearly every aspect. You were so uncool and lame as you lacked elegance, lazy in comparison to many, and awfully forgetful. But it made you even more charming. Tomoe found himself growing fond of your minor habits, though still trying to push healthier ones upon you, they were sweet, or even cute dare he say.

If you so choose, you can touch his ears. What can I say, the thought has plagued his mind more times than he cares to admit. Intimacy with you is not exactly scarce, you dot on the fox quite a bit, however, he yearns for more of your attention, your time. Being your familiar for some years has honestly built up his confidence. (There was no way in hell he'd ask you that and earlier than now.)

You cannot have another familiar, not a chance. Tomoe will burn them to the ground if they even try to kiss you. If you've had familiars before him, fuck them. They can die for all he cares. All you have to do is ask and he will gladly do the honors. (He knows you won't, unfortunately)

No male familiars are permitted to sleep by your side, except him of course. He must retain his superiority somehow. Allowing them to see you so vulnerable is not an option.

For you, he'd do an ything if it's within his power. As long as it doesn't put you or your reputation in danger that is.

“You reek of that wretched Tengu, must you always converse with such lowlives, mistress? If my company is not to your liking please allow me to fix myself. I am your loyal familiar and you should know I'm also the best.”

#—🍁 #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x y/n #yandere hedacanons #yandere tomoe #yandere tomoe x reader #tomoe x reader #kamisama hajimemashita headcanons #kamisama hajimemashita #kamisama kiss headcanons #kamisama kiss #yancore #yandere male #yanderecore

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Clone Wars/Star Wars

The Sun Swings East by kj_feybarn (+ podfic)

Over and over, Obi-Wan woke up and wished he hadn't.

Palpatine wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan had Fallen, wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan gave Palpatine a shattered galaxy in payment for his release.

He couldn't save himself, Obi-Wan had come to terms with that.

What he hadn't realized was that didn't mean there was no way to be saved.

broken surface by qigiined

"The water is not talking to you, Obi-Wan,” Feemor says without chastisement in his tone. “That’s the force you’re feeling, from the trees maybe.” The clippers turn back on. “Or a fish.” “Bones,” Obi-Wan says. The clippers turn off again. “Bones,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I want to be bones.” “You’re already bones. Where’d you get that idea?” Qui-Gon steps quietly closer to the door. “You’re scaring me, O’Ben,” Feemor says softly.

(Obi-Wan suffers from a genetic and force-based condition that makes him want to drown himself in a bog. And sometimes that bog is the shape of a sink.)

cultural ed by qigiined

PDS: so Kenobi would have been 23? 24? When the padawan came along?

WLF: so probably around 22 for conception. They need time to bake.

PDS: no one can make natborns that young.

FOX: I’m telling you all. Natborns are REALLY good at making other natborns that young. It’s their specialty.

(Cal is assigned to do some cultural education with Obi-Wan on board The Negotiator for a few days and Cody and his batch come to some understandable conclusions.)

and through the spaces of the dark by blackkat (+ podfic)

Jon's attempts to avoid a war he wants no part in are ended when Dark Woman drags him to Coruscant and straight to a posting with the Guard. He intends to keep his head down and do his work, but the mysteries around the Guard - and Fox - immediately have him in out of his depth and on uncertain ground/

Nine Worlds series (Victoria Goddard)

An Impossible Dream by SunInGlory

His Radiancy makes a proposal to his secretary. It probably isn't a real proposal...or is it?

an honorable and enviable role. by mage-pie (looselipssinksubs)

"Get up get up get up!” Something heavy landed on Varro’s stomach. He sat up just as Zerafin turned the lights on. “What?” Zerafin was grinning. The thing he’d thrown at Varro was a duffel bag. “We’re going on vacation! Get up, start packing, we’re leaving at dawn!”

That’s right, iiiiit’s… Vangavayen Vacation Time! Featuring our very favorite captive audience and peanut gallery, the highly trained and extremely professional innermost members of the Imperial Guard! Please give them your applause and moral support; they’re going to need it.

Privacy by Penguinity

Rhodin sipped his coffee. “Are us roommates cramping your style?”

“No,” Conju demurred, in a way which clearly meant yes. “I value you all deeply and am satisfied with a . . . laissez-faire . . . living situation in our retirement.”

Ludvic stirred his coffee. Rhodin peeled a banana in a desultory way. They waited.

Conju sighed. “It’s just–“ Ludvic and Rhodin leaned forward as Conju continued, “– why does he have to be underfoot all the time? Overnight?! I came down for a drink last week and nearly broke my neck tripping over a middle-aged aristocrat. It’s undignified."

Disobedience by alfgifu

You glanced down at the new paper with mild concern and felt your emotions congeal into cold terror.

It was not a standard Council paper, though it came with the usual cover slip.

It was a warrant for Cliopher’s execution.

A touch of home by alfgifu

I might have felt extremely boring coming back to the Palace through the front door in all our finery, but as Kip had pointed out, there was really no need to alarm the guards by climbing in a window when we could shock the world simply by showing up as ourselves.

#only two fandoms this time #which is very unusual for me #the hyperfixation continued #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #hote recs #sw recs #nine worlds recs #i've just added a bunch of fics for different fandoms to my marked for later #so i have a feeling my next fic round up is gonna be more diverse

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Younger Gods: III

Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Dangerous magic and old friends lay the foundation of a fate foretold, and Morpheus spends too much time in the library.

Warnings: language, briefly referenced suicidal ideation, self-neglect/harm, extreme sleep deprivation, Dream is still his own damn warning

A/N: First - THANK YOU ALL. Seriously. You're amazing, I love you, and I'm working on catching up on comments. Now for the bad news. Ya'll broke chapter 2. Like, literally. I went to edit the tags list and Tumblr said nope. Imagine a small, family car with dozens of people stacked inside and hanging off the roof. It just won't go. The chapter also didn't show up in the story tags, at least whenever I checked. So...

*The taglist is officially discontinued*

I am making that up with something special, though, so make sure to read the A/N at the end!

Chapter 3: Darker Fates

“Gracious, darling, you look dreadful.”

She collapsed into the rickety café chair. Across the laminate table sat her oldest friend. Her one friend. And she immediately wondered how much to tell him. Only two days stood between her and her involuntary trip down memory lane, between her and the Sandman. She’d seen dark birds from the corner of her eye once or twice, but they always turned out to be crows and magpies. That didn’t mean Matthew wasn’t following her, of course.

She hadn’t escaped the consequences of her actions yet, and she didn’t want to drag one of the precious few people she cared about into the muck.

“What happened to your courtly manners?”

“What happened to your face?” He shuddered delicately, burying the real concern she caught in his sharp grey eyes with dramatics. Signaling the waitress behind the counter, he added, “We’ll need another pot of tea, please.”

The woman blushed and hurried off to fill the order. Doubtless, he’d been flirting while he waited. Damn silver fox. Although he was over one thousand years old, he wore it well. His greying curls and tidy beard looked playful rather than unkempt.

“Do you have what I need?”

He nodded. “Tea’s on it’s way.”

“Not the damn tea, Taliesin.”

The twice-born bard sucked on his teeth, glancing from the front windows to the back counter. Only spilled coffee stains and a sticky smear of jam occupied the other tables. He acted like this kind of deal might draw attention, and he had good reason to think twice about handling magical items in public, but no one cared what two people meeting up at two in the afternoon in a cheap café shared over a cup of tea.

He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a small, stoppered bottle. The liquid inside moved like tar, oozing up the side of the glass as Taliesin angled it in the light. Even caution couldn’t banish his instincts as a showman.

“Understand.” He looked her in the eye, his scintillating smile packed away for a stone glower. “This is a cruelty, not a blessing. Now, I won’t ask why you need it. I wouldn’t insult you like that. But it’s my responsibility to tell you this is a bad idea.”

She could think of worse.

Before she could explain herself, the waitress pranced over with the tea. She set the pot between them and provided a fresh cup and saucer. Taliesin grinned, winked, and sent her on her way again with a word of thanks.

“One day your philandering will get you into trouble, old man.”

He sniffed and poured the tea, adding the slightest splash of milk, just the way she liked it. “I never begin something from which I cannot safely extricate myself. And, besides, a little teasing will make her day.”

He slid the cup across the table, and she wrapped her hands around the porcelain to drink in the heat through her chilly palms. She couldn’t seem to stay warm these past few weeks. Anyway, tea wasn’t what she’d come to drink.

“Will it keep me awake forever?”

“Nothing is forever. Nothing you can taste, touch, or smell.” He sounded both chiding and nostalgic. “But this will last seven years and seven days.”

“Good enough. What do you want in exchange?”

Tutting, he tucked the potion back in his jacket, and she sagged in her seat. “Tea first. I have grand and patronizing cautions to give.”

She lifted the cup, maintaining eye contact as she took the biggest, loudest slurp she could manage. It tasted nice, and its warmth felt even better in her stomach and throat than it had on her skin. Why did the bastard have to be right about everything?

The twinkle in his eye suggested he knew what station the train of her thoughts had left, and he slurped from his own cup in merry retaliation.

“First,” he licked a drip from his mustache, “and foremost: this is vile magic. It doesn’t gift wakefulness – it steals rest. The fae designed it with little prisoners like you in mind, to be taken in spaces where time melts and enchanted food will cheat the body’s need for sleep. Since – I dare presume – you do not have those safeguards, this could kill you.”

He left the words to sink in, trying to scare her off the purchase. When she reached out to see if he knew someone willing to make this potion, he’d leapt at the opportunity himself. It was his way of protecting her, and it gave him a chance to interfere with what he clearly saw as self-harm.

Since she wasn’t sure she could survive another nightmare like the one Dream hauled her through, she’d take her chances with death by her own hand.

“Consider me warned, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Taliesin bowed his head over his teacup, groaning. Any fantasies that he could talk her off her current path finally cracked. “You really are stubborn, rain cloud.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Oh, no. That you found all your own.” His smile grew back, wan but alive. His hand settled on the table, palm up, and she abandoned her tea to settle her hand over his.

“Just promise,” he said with a gentle squeeze, “that if you feel anything going off, if you even suspect something’s wrong, you’ll call your old friend Taliesin. Okay?”

She squeezed back, trying to smile for him, but she was too tired to make the expression stick. “Okay.”

Nodding to himself, he echoed the agreement again, “Okay,” and reached into his pocket. He slipped the bottle between their joined hands, and she pulled away to put it in her sweater.

“What do you want in return?”

“Well!” He smacked the table with both hands, grinning in a way that promised trouble. “I thought long and hard about it, but rather than jewels, or secrets, or power, I think what I would most like from a lovely young storm god is…” He paused, glancing meaningfully out the window at the dreary, grey-yellow afternoon. “A walk in the rain with my favorite little cloud.”

He sounded so damn happy about it he infected her with the feeling. It was nice to be needed. Wanted. Even if she’d just lied to his face.

A friendly rain gathered and fell as Taliesin got up to pay the bill. He left the waitress looking pleased with herself – and probably a generous tip. Then he came to meet his rain cloud at the door. An umbrella appeared from some hidden pocket and he grinned, holding out his elbow for her to link arms with him.

“I always come prepared,” he bragged as they stepped out into the shower.

“You say that like you don’t live in Wales.”

“I never said you were the only thing I came prepared for.”

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

Given the mother’s name to track, Lucienne did eventually find the record of the little storm god’s dreams, but they were useless to Morpheus. He studied the handful of pages warped by the curse she wore around her neck with mounting frustration. Apart from reports of which nightmares feasted on her pain during her brief, forced rests, they gave him nothing.

Her mother’s dreams proved more illuminating. They, at least, gave him a line of inquiry to follow.

The woman dreamed about her child from the moment it was born, from the minute the father tore her away to trade. The mother wandered endless rooms, following a crying child’s voice while she slept. She dreamed of little coffins and wailing infants she couldn’t find in nurseries dripping with gore.

Arcane shapes and dead languages shadowed her sleeping hours as she learned magic. In the waking world, she became a capable witch. There, as in the Dreaming, every hope and wish bent to finding her baby.

She never gave up her pursuit.

But in the end, it was the daughter who found the mother.

Her favorite dream grew out of a memory. A rainy afternoon, a crack of lightning, and a knock on the door. A painfully thin teenager stood on the steps, dripping in a thunderstorm, looking up with wondering eyes. If Morpheus had any doubts as to the girl’s identity, the scars around her neck put them to rest. She still had blood in her hair, rusty smudges caught in the grooves of old scars, fresh hurts and healed wounds calling to the mother’s instinct to protect and care for.

Although she had plenty of nightmares about losing her daughter again – finding her bed empty, losing her in a crowd – the nature of her somnolescent musings shifted. Softened.

And a familiar face came to call. The Welsh bard, Taliesin, whom the demi-god child kept safe at the cost of her hands, brought little gifts to the old woman and her young daughter. His winks brought warm flushes to the mother’s dreams, and she rested easier at night knowing that her little girl would not be entirely alone in the end.

She had sacrificed ten years of her life to a fairy bargain that won her nothing but a hand-sized portrait of her baby girl during her long search. By the time the child returned, her mother had grown old. They only had twelve years together before the lost child lost her mother.

The woman died. The record ended. But Dream knew where to look next.

Abandoning his throne for the library, he wrestled against a growing sense that he was running out of time. Time for what? Time for whom?

He was still Dream of the Endless. He still had a realm and billions of dreamers to manage. The puzzle of the storm god who brought home his raven lingered like a toothache, but he could not abandon his responsibilities. Determined as he may be to remove the golden collar from both the Dreaming and the dreamer, the curse had lingered for decades without disturbing anything significant.

It had been months since he picked through her dreaming mind to discover more about her – more about the curse. Only now, as the things settled back into a comfortable kind of order, could he indulge his curiosity, his side-quest as Death mockingly called his interests. And he was more than interested. The longer the questions lingered, the more of his attention they consumed.

Perhaps it was the crossroads. The Fates said he’d already pushed the storm god towards a darker fate, but they never said it was too late to change that course, and the three often left the most important truths unsaid.

If only he knew what to look for. Perhaps that was why he spent so much time and energy researching the collar. It gave him a target. Without it, he felt like a dreamer caught in a pitch-black nightmare, groping blindly for anything with which to reclaim the light.

But he did not have to search alone.

“Lucienne.”

His librarian looked up from a stack of new, peering over the rim of her spectacles. “Did the mother’s dreams help you find what you needed, my lord?”

“In part. Though I need another volume.” He handed over the two records, the mother’s dreams and the storm god’s. Lucienne set down her tower of work and went to shelve the two immediately. They slotted beside each other, the mother’s name in curling script, the daughter’s blank.

“You know,” Lucienne said, “I only found the nameless one’s record because the mother’s kept reshelving itself with the daughter’s book. I fixed it twice before I realized. It’s rather sweet.” She sighed. “If vexing. What volume do you require, my lord?”

Morpheus spared the books another glance, wondering how much of the mother’s arcane studies had influenced her history of dreams. But she’d given him all she could, and now he must turn to the living for answers. “The bard Taliesin’s records, and anything else we have on his history.”

“That is more a section than a collection, lord.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t his first time encountering the bard. “I may need to speak with him, but he will be loathe to leave a story once he is introduced. I’d prefer to find answers in the records. Will you help me?”

“Of course. Give me a moment.” Lucienne paused. “Give me several moments, please, my lord.”

On Lucienne’s first trip, she retrieved the official record of Taliesin’s dreams. He’d lived a long life, and he dreamed vibrantly. The tome was several feet thick, and the library echoed when the librarian set it on the table.

“Thank you, Lucienne.”

“I’ll fetch the rest, sir.”

Taliesin’s early works, recorded on parchment and scrolls, sat between books published under a dozen nom de plumes in later centuries. When the librarian returned with a cart stacked high with history books referencing and theorizing over the man and his myth, Morpheus excused her.

“These should suffice, Lucienne. I will let you know if I do not find my answers here.”

“Of course, sir.” She brushed dust from her immaculate coat, checking the sleeves, before folding her hands neatly behind her back. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Already buried in the works of Taliesin’s unconscious mind, he shook his head. “Not at this time.”

She bowed and left. The library would be chaos without her. He could remember when it was. It was no mean feat, organizing a universe of stories. It made her wise in ways he had only just begun to appreciate.

The man whose dreams he searched enjoyed other kinds of wisdom. He’d gained a third of the world’s knowledge by accident, but he’d spent the better part of his life learning the other two thirds by choice. Advisor to kings, story-weaver, and a natural mage, he had the wisdom and craft to recognize some of the magic wrought into the storm god’s collar. He’d tried to take it off when they first met, and he studied for a means to free her after his escape.

Morpheus wanted to know what the bard found.

However, though his dreams in the past few decades often welcomed a shade of the storm god to play out adventures and tragedies as part of a colorful cast, Taliesin’s attention did not linger on the curse. It was little more than a bright shadow that pricked his conscience.

He sat back in the chair, glowering at the books that had failed him.

It seemed every whisper of progress led to more questions in this riddle, and not for the first time, he wished the library could offer more insight to the happenings of the waking world. He should not need to ask for help so often.

At least, unlike the storm god, the bard embraced his dreams. Like all great storytellers, he had explored his fantasies and fears ravenously. When he next slept, Morpheus would pry loose some answers. It shouldn’t be difficult. The bard dearly loved the sound of his own voice.

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Taliesin presided over a court of housecats.

He was aware enough to know the royal courtiers of Edward II did not, originally, have literal claws, but it made perfect sense in the moment. Edward and Gaveston were in the corner, playfully wrestling – maybe – while Isabella stalked closer with murder in her vertical pupils.

“This is not the way,” he huffed, plucking a kitten from the mob joining ranks behind Isabella, a gorgeous tortoise-shell with no interest in his opinion. The kitten sprang spread-eagle back to the floor.

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

His favorite idiot, his little rain cloud, curled under the steps to the dais. She’d found herself, once again, where she did not belong, and if her eyes didn’t reflect the torches set around the room, he never would’ve known she was there. It was the wrong court altogether, but she had a talent for trouble and a gift for surprises.

Dropping to his knees, he reached under the wooden platform to coax her out. She’d become a fetching little half munchkin, half Norwegian forest cat caught in the lanky middle ground between kitten and grown cat. A menace, to be sure, but too cute to ignore.

“Come out and play with your friends,” he said as she wriggled even farther out of reach. “It isn’t good to hide all the time. You need to do some seeking, too, lovee.”

But she was very determined and his arms just weren’t long enough, so he manifested a trail of nibbles to catch her attention. He could be patient. He could be tricksy. Good friends, he firmly believed, should be both, because sometimes people were just too stupid or too stubborn to accept the help they obviously needed.

He sat up to kneel below the empty thrones and clapped his hands on his thighs.

Well. He’d done what he could for now. Across the room, poor Gaveston was learning the price of being a king’s favorite. The yowls and cries almost distracted him to the point he didn’t see the massive black Maine Coon stalk into the throne room. The cat’s eyes glowed, both literally and metaphorically. In his kneeling position, Taliesin actually had to look up to see those eyes, and he gulped, wondering if he was about to be eaten.

“I have questions for you, bard.” The cat spoke with authority in a voice like honeyed night.

Taliesin recognized it, though it hadn’t come from a cat before, and he dismissed all thought of stupid whot, why, what, how demands.

It may be his imagination at work, but it was not his realm.

“Dream King.” He bowed. Then he remembered he was dreaming and squinted at the cacophonous mess of the long-dead king’s feline transformation. “Ah. This makes so much more sense.”

The cats blinked out of existence, or at least out of his dream, and he sat back on his heels. The stone chamber grew quiet. A plaintive meow from beside the stops, however, proved not all the cats had gone. The junior cat approached and let him sweep her into his arms, even purring when he scratched under her chin.

Still aware of the Endless – no longer in cat-form  – Taliesin allowed himself a moment to enjoy this imagined pleasure. The little storm god made an adorable ball of fur. “You’d never make this so easy in the waking world, would you?”

She sized his finger with claws and teeth to prove she wasn’t easy in any world.

“There is unwelcome magic in the Dreaming.” The Nightmare King didn’t wait for Taliesin’s focus, confident as any monarch that his words would be heard, that the listener would take note and action. “You have studied it.”

Taliesin nodded, taking his word for it and stroking his friend the kitten as he picked through his long memory for anything of interest to the King of Dreams. “I have studied many shapes of magic, lord.”

“This one is close to you.”

Some darker note in the Dream King’s voice snagged Taliesin’s ear, and he looked away from the cat to study his face. Lips bent in a frown, brows pinched, the king had his starry eyes pinned to the creature in the bard’s arms. Taliesin looked back down to see a phantom of the collar growing around the kitten’s neck. She writhed against it, mewling in pain, staring up at him like he could do anything to help her.

He’d tried, and he’d tried again. He still hadn’t given up entirely.

Couldn’t the poor thing’s shade at least find relief in his dream?

She scratched him in her fit, and he bundled her closer, pinning her fast and safe as he’d failed to do when she was small and alone and willing to suffer in his stead. Even if he couldn’t free her, he’d never abandon her.

The truth of the matter struck him. He felt the cat shudder against his heart when she’d been so calm and accepting a moment ago, and he knew.

“So, you’ve met my favorite idiot.”

“Yes.”

The word betrayed nothing, not how they met, not how he felt. But he wanted to banish the collar once and for all, and Taliesin could get on board with that.

“It’s fairy-make,” he said. “Broken in the waking world, but still manifests in the Dreaming.”

“I know. What I do not know is why. What terms closed the circle around her neck? It appeared to suppress her godly half in life.”

Taliesin tried to cradle the cat even closer without suffocating her. “If you do not mind my asking, lord, how do you know even that much?”

“I saw it,” the king said, casually, like it wasn’t one of the worst things the bard had ever heard, “in her dreams, in her recollection of the past.”

Closing his eyes, the bard took a deep, deep breath in through his nose. He had to hold it for a minute, because it desperately wanted to leave his throat with a string of curses Dream of the Endless would not enjoy. When he was sure he could exhale without heaping abuse on the dolt’s head, he let the breath go. He did it all one more time, and then he said, “I think I understand why she wanted to stay awake.”

Eyes still shut, he murmured to himself, “Why didn’t she tell me? Self-destructive little –”

When he finally looked, the world had changed. Gone was the castle, the throne, and the sweet little cat from his arms. He’d imagined a cheap bedsit in Cardiff, the kind of place the little storm god may stay on the run – and she was definitely on the run, from nightmares if nothing else.

The young woman lay sprawled in a puddle of moonlight, half dead, and fading fast. Her skin clung to her bones, eyes sunken, old wounds open and bleeding from malnutrition and scurvy.

The empty potion bottle sat on the windowsill.

Dream of the Endless studied the scene with clear interest, and Taliesin beat down his protective urges in the name of pragmatism. If she was running from Lord Morpheus, she wouldn’t turn to Taliesin for help when the potion dragged her to the brink of death. It wouldn’t be a life lesson she could grow through. It would be a life ended.

“She came to me a few months ago,” he said, hoping the Endless would care enough about the woman shackled to the curse to consider her in his grand schemes. “She wanted a potion to stave off sleep. I told her it was dangerous, and I thought she’d come to me for help soon, that I could teach her something, but –”

The body on the floor laid so still. How many months had it been? How close was this nightmare to reality?

“I said her dreams would be kinder when she next slept,” the king murmured.

He didn’t have to say he didn’t understand.

Taliesin crossed his arms and cleared his throat. Someone, at least, would learn something this night. “Well, she’s a storm, isn’t she? She isn’t capable of moderation. When she’s happy, she’s ecstatic. When she’s angry she’s electric. When she’s afraid she is very, very afraid. And she’s terrified of you.”

Dream looked over his shoulder at the bard, still looming beside the dying phantom.

“I neither wish nor intend her harm.”

“You don’t have to intend harm to hurt her.”

The Endless fully turned to him, and the bard spoke with all the confidence of being truly heard. Just as the king did upon entering this dream. “You, I presume, dug very deep in a very dark place. That hurt her. Frightened her. If you push her far enough she’ll chew off her own leg to get away, or didn’t you see the part where she nearly decapitated herself to escape the damn collar?”

Silence filled the room. An ugly, cheap place to die. Taliesin wondered how long it would take to find her if she really had gone to ground. He couldn’t trust the King of Dreams to care about anything beyond the Dreaming’s borders, and he wouldn’t trust her health with the one who pushed her to ruin in.

He had spells to find her, but he wasn’t sure he could hold her if she went into a panic.

In the stillness, they could hear her death rattle.

“What will your potion do to her?”

His potion. Yes, he supposed it was his fault. The girl really was like a stray cat, hiding under porches to die quietly rather than let someone help. He should’ve known.

“It keeps her awake. Eventually, she’ll feel too ill to eat. She may hallucinate. Her heart will fall out of rhythm and she’ll waste away until her body doesn’t remember how to function.” He smacked his head back into the wall, wanting punishment, hoping to jog some inspired idea free. “I warned her.”

Of all the Endless, and he’d met quite a few, Dream was the most inscrutable. Cold and detached, but prone to dangerous spikes of interest that spiraled into nearly obsessive passion. His vengeance came swiftly and his affection grew slow. But Dream was, usually, just. He didn’t enjoy undeserved suffering, and Taliesin had to hope that after walking through the little storm god’s dreams, he’d understand she’d earned none of her pain.

It wasn’t too late. He’d lost track of time, but a tableau this desperate wouldn’t come to pass for at least a year.

“If you are of a mind to assist, Dream Lord…” He pushed off the wall, suddenly and entirely desperate to move. “I have an idea.”

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

Her fear grew bitter as her strength waned. She could taste it when she struggled to eat, and when she gave up meals, it poisoned the water she drank. Terror tasted like blood from bitten lips and dust on her dry tongue. Her hands shook, and her throat burned from stomach acid, but it wasn’t bad enough to call on Taliesin again. She knew what he’d say.

Whatever happened, she would not fall asleep.

Besides, she wasn’t dying yet. She was only sick. If the Dream Lord pulled through her bloody history again, she wouldn’t survive. If she had a choice, she’d pick a death in the waking world, free of the collar and safe from the Dream Lord who dragged her through horrors so callously.

She wasn’t convinced he believed in her innocence, either. If he knew he’d threatened someone trying to rescue his damn raven, surely he would’ve apologized.

Better to stay awake and ignore the cramps in her belly.

The rain soothed her. Fitful storms plagued the town she’d chosen as a hiding place, and the old folks grumbled to each other at the grocery store about the weather. Maybe they’d gotten used to it in the past few months. She hadn’t been out in a while.

She didn’t sleep, but she still rested. Her eyelids didn’t grow heavy when she sat by the window and watched the drops racing down the pane. She remained awake, aware, and as close to peace as her racing thoughts allowed.

The window became her favorite pastime, and she spent days studying the changing clouds as angry squalls rolled up the coast, how the grey sky trapped the light during gentler showers.

And she grew weaker. Quietly flirting with the line between sick and deathly ill.

She saw impossible things beyond the glass. It took her a few days to realize they were hallucinations, not a fae spell or some petty apocalypse.

When his reflection appeared behind her in the window, she thought she was seeing things again. And then he spoke.

“You are killing yourself.”

She jerked around, stumbling on numb feet to face the monster. The Nightmare King. Her hand wandered her neck, looking for the collar to prove this was a dream, but she found her scarf instead.

“You are in the waking world,” he confirmed. “You hid yourself well.”

He took a step towards her, and she lunged back. The same game in the wrong realm.

“You still think I’m some kind of threat?”

Another step towards her, another step back – she nearly tripped on the leg of a chair, but she refused to look away for an instant, even to save the scraps of her dignity.

“No.”

He moved the way he spoke, aware of every nuance, every shift, slowly drawing closer. Sure and smooth as a stormfront.

What did he want? She abandoned her home, gave up the precious little sleep she could tolerate, and he still pressed her. He didn’t look angry and cold, like he did on the beach. Something sharp glittered in his eyes, though, a keen edge ready to cut her.

They passed through the living room, through the kitchen, and she only had a few more steps before this slow chase met an abrupt end.

“I’m running out of ground to give, Dream Lord.”

“Good.”

A final step, and her heel met the wall. He closed the distance, keeping the same predator’s pace as she pressed herself flat against the peeling wallpaper.

“Do you want me to fight?” Her growing storm raged. Lightning sheered over the sleepy town, turning the evening bright as noon. Thunder rattled the windows, but the Dream Lord didn’t so much as flinch. “Do you want an excuse to hurt me?”

He stood inches away, eating up her personal space until she felt his shadow had already swallowed her.

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” A whisper with the desperation of a scream.

His razor eyes cut deep, and she quaked in place, afraid to move but wishing she could shrink, become so small he wouldn’t notice her.

“To turn you from a darker fate.”

He raised a hand, and she cowered from the expected blow. When none fell, she peeped at him sidelong. His palm hovered between them, like he was holding up a gift.

“Sleep.”

Stooping ever so slightly, he blew over his hand, sending a gust of sand into her face. She bucked against him, flinging one arm up to cover her face, the other to shove at his chest. But it was no good. By the time he curled his fingers back, she could feel her grip on the world slipping away.

“Poor little storm god.”

Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall, losing herself by inches to the inescapable lure of the Dreaming and its master.

She slept.

Chapter 4 A/N: I've never done prompt requests, but I've never had 500 FOLLOWERS EITHER (holy shit). I'm celebrating, and you're invited. The rules are a little convoluted, I won't be able to do ALL the things, but you'll all get a say in what makes the cut by voting. To join the fun and check out the rules, go here. Even if you don't join in, there will be one-shots aplenty for you to browse.

I'll be working on a chapter each for my other two active fics while I wait for replies, so you may not see another Younger Gods chapter til next week. For those clamoring for more interaction between the reader and Morpheus, it will be well worth the wait.

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus fanfiction #YoungerGods

[queenmea604]

➪➪➪ Title : Ours Love

➪➪➪ Pairing : Werewolf!Skz x human!F!reader

➪➪➪ Genre : Romance, fluff, angst, smut & poly relationship, fantasy

➪➪➪ Word Count : 3.9k

➪➪➪ Warning : MDI!!

➪➪➪ Synopsis

Masterlist Next

Let me know if taglist not working, I will try fix it

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

Part 1

Y/n pov

You thanked the people who moved your stuff to your new house in the middle of a forest because you like nature, and the way to town is also very easy for you, so you don't have to worry about that. Now you have to organize your stuff that has been put in your living room, but your phone rang while you opened the box, so you decided to answer and put on a loud speaker to make the job easy for you.

" Babe, are you at your new house now? " Your older brother's voice echoed around the house, and you grimaced at the loud sound.

" Bro, don't shout on the phone if you don't want Y/n to go deaf because of you " San Oppa said, scolding your brother.

" Hello Oppa and Sannie, I'm already at my new house, and now I want to organize my stuff " You chuckle at both of them.

" I would help my baby clean her new house, but unfortunately, I have my stupid practice right now " Wooyoung Oppa grumbled on the other side, and you know that he was already pouting right now.

" Oppa, it's ok. I understand you're busy with the new comeback, and I can manage it myself. I have to start being an independent girl if I want to live alone " You tell him this while opening the box full of decorations for your living room.

A sniffle can be heard from the other line.

" One day you don't need me anymore " Wooyoung Oppa whined at you.

San Oppa slapped his forehead at Wooyoung Oppa's words for you, and you only giggled at Wooyoung Oppa for being a dramatic brother.

" Guys, let's practice now " Hongjoong Oppa's voice can be heard in the background.

Both of the males let out a groan at Hongjoong Oppa's command for them about their practice.

" Baby, I need to hang up now, and I will call you back later " Wooyoung Oppa says.

" Okay, bye, Oppa " Both of you are saying goodbye to each other.

You continue to organize the house like you want for the whole day without taking a rest, and if Wooyoung Oppa knew about this, he would scold you non-stop like an old lady for a few hours.

{Time Skip}

Early in the morning, you wash all the laundry you have in a basket and hang the laundry outside of your courtyard. The sunlight shines on your face and makes your face glow at the same time. Without your notice, one pair of red eyes is staring directly at your figure from behind the bush and intensely staring at you. You clap your hands when the task is done before you get inside your house to prepare yourself a breakfast, and you also decide to do a mini concert in your kitchen.

You dance to wave by ATEEZ until the song finishes, and you still continue dancing while singing until you forget about the food at the countertop. The same eyes still stare at you, who is dancing like a crazy woman in the kitchen with an excited look, but you finally stop dancing to eat your food that has already cooled down. The eyes also decide to stop staring at you before retreating to somewhere else. You peacefully eat your food while looking outside when suddenly you notice a house not far away from your new house.

' Good, I have a new neighbour now '

You thought, and you carefully observed the house that looked empty without a single soul in it.

" Maybe they go out, I better go greet them after they come back " You mumble to yourself.

You clean the plate you use to eat and continue to clean the house that you didn't get to do yesterday due to your tiredness and laziness.

Author pov

Y/n was resting on her couch while watching K-dramas when the bell rang, indicating someone at Y/n's door, so Y/n decided to check who came to visit her this late afternoon. Y/n opened the door of her house only to meet a very attractive male with a sharp jawline and a pair of fox-like eyes who gave her a big smile.

" Erm... What can I help you with, Mr? " Y/n ask the question to that male.

" Ooh, I just came to say hi because you are now our neighbour. I live at that house with my brothers " He explained to Y/n while showing up at the house that it was not far from her house.

" By the way, my name is Yang Jeongin " Jeongin extended his hand at Y/n to shake.

Y/n shake hands with Jeongin.

" Jung Y/n " Y/n says her name to Jeongin.

" Welcome to this neighbourhood " Jeongin utters while smiling at the girl in front of him.

" Thank you, Jeongin - ssi " Y/n bows her body at him with a full expression of respect.

After that, Jeongin excuses himself, and Y/n goes back inside the house to continue her dramas. Jeongin enters the house while happily humming a song on his way inside, and someone peeks through the wall when Jeongin gets inside the house.

" Where did you go, Innie? " Bang Chan questions Jeongin with furrow brows.

" I greet the new neighbour " Jeongin enters the living room, where everyone is.

" The neighbour?? That house?? " Changbin showed at Y/n's house towards Jeongin, and the male nodded at Changbin's question.

" Male or female? " Felix asked.

" A very beautiful female " Jeongin answered with a grin on his face.

Everyone's ears perked up at Jeongin's information.

" That's why you look happy " Minho said while raising one of his eyebrows at the younger male.

" She looks so unreal, if you don't believe me, and her smell is also very nice " Jeongin tells the others about their new neighbor.

" When you see her, you will have feelings to not scare her out " Jeongin said to the others while eyeing them.

The others made calm faces when Jeongin eyed them all.

On the next day,

Y/n left her house to go buy something in town, so she drove her car to town, and in 25 minutes she arrived at her destination with a long list in her hand to find or buy her stuff. After almost two hours, Y/n bought the things she needed, and now she wants to return to her house, but suddenly the rain started pouring, so Y/n didn't have another choice but to run somewhere that could protect her from the rain, and Y/n found a place to stay for a while until the rain stopped.

Someone came out from the shop that Y/n took as shelter, and that person let out a soft gasp, not because of the rain but from the visual in front of him, and Y/n turned around to look around her and meet with that person's eyes. Both of them made eye contact before Y/n bowed her head at him, and Y/n's wet hair got in her way, so that person offered the handkerchief to Y/n.

" Use this, you will get sick soon " He told her.

Y/n shyly accept a handkerchief from that person.

" I'm Hwang Hyunjin " Hyunjin finally introduces himself at Y/n.

" I'm Jung Y/n, and thanks for this " Y/n told him while showing the handkerchief in her hand.

Both of them start having a conversation, and both of them look shocked when they learn that they are neighbours, and Hyunjin looks so happy to know that Y/n is the beautiful girl Jeongin talked about.

Hyunjin pov

I saw my beautiful angel already waking up from her sleep, and she got ready to start her day while I got my sketchbook to draw her gorgeous features from my room. I kept taking a look at her while I drew her, and I felt so close to her when I sketched for her without her knowing that. At first, when Jeongin told us about her, no one believed what he told us, but after I saw her myself on that rainy day, I immediately regretted not listening to the information Jeongin gave us, and Jeongin's words were true about Y/n smells when I carefully sniffed her smells.

She has a refreshing and calm smell of lavender and strawberry in her body that naturally comes out of herself. I also admit that I like her present from that house after I meet with her because I can always see her from far away or sketch her figure if I feel bored and don't know what to draw. Someone knocked at my door, and Jeongin's head peeked inside my room.

" Hyung " Jeongin approaches me.

" Hmm " I only humming as I responded to him.

" What did you draw? " When Jeongin saw my drawing, he let out an audible gasp.

" How did you know her? " Jeongin asked me.

" I met her in front of the art shop after she tried to find a shelter to avoid the rain " I simply replied to him.

" You're right about her, Innie " I look up at Jeongin's face with a gentle smile on my lips.

Jeongin sits down in front of me in another chair with an excited expression plastered on his face.

" I know, she's the most amazing girl that I've ever met " Jeongin said, closing his eyes for a moment.

" How do you think she will react when she knows about our true selves? " Jeongin made eye contact with me.

" Honestly, I don't know, maybe she will be scared of us or don't believe in us " I shrugged my shoulders with a nonchalant face.

Jeongin went quiet for a while and lost himself in his own thoughts while I continued my drawing that had been disturbed by him.

The next day,

We all quietly eat our breakfast when someone knocks twice at our house door, and we all already knew who was at the door. Seungmin opens the door before a group of males enters our house.

" Hey guys, any news?? " Chan Hyung shakes hands with them.

" Chan, some wolves have already entered your territory without your knowledge " Namjoon Hyung tells us.

" Now we knew about this because some of our people saw an unknowing wolf hide behind the bush of that house " Jungkook Hyung showed us at Y/n house.

Jeongin and my breath hitched with the new information they told us. The others looked at us with a curious face.

" Why would the wolf hide in there? " Felix questions them.

" We still tried to get the info about that, I know that house has a girl living there alone. We need to stay alert because the wolf might attack that house without our knowledge " Yoongi Hyung warns us.

" Alright, we need to always watch her house in case something happens to her " Chan Hyung said, gaining our attention.

" Yes, pack alpha " We said together at Chan Hyung full of respect for him.

" You all also need to be careful " Seokjin Hyung tells us.

We all nodded at him with a serious face.

{Time Skip}

I left my sketchbook on the sofa and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and when I got back, I saw Jisung flip through my drawing book, which was full of Y/n sketches with an unreadable face, so I tapped his shoulder to let him know that I'm here with him.

"  Are you alright? " I ask him.

" You look like you just saw a ghost " I continue.

Jisung showed me the portrait of Y/n with wide eyes.

" Is this woman a ghost? " Jisung's eyes go wide with his words.

" Nope " I reply while taking back my sketchbook from him.

" Then?? Who's she? " Jisung sat on the sofa opposite me.

" She is the neighbour that Jeongin told us about, I saw her outside of the art shop " I nonchalantly answered him.

Jisung froze in his seat before he got up suddenly.

" No way " He mumbled.

I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

" She's looking so unreal " Jisung said with a smile.

" What're you thinking about? Don't do crazy things, Han " I narrow my eyes at him.

Sometimes Jisung can do something out of his mind if he wants to.

" I wanted to meet her " Jisung said, jumping from his seat.

I gave him a serious stare and made him shriek in his place.

" W- what?? " Jisung is shuttering while avoiding looking at my face.

" Are you insane or what? Right now is the middle of the night, and you want to meet her at this hour? " I deadpan look at the dumb guy.

Jisung thought for a moment before sheepishly smiling at himself.

" Dumbest " I mumbled, but Jisung heard what I said.

Jisung attacked me with his tickles, and both of us laughed until Minho hyung scolded us for being loud.

No One pov

Y/n got out from her house to take some fresh air outside until she heard a noise from a bush not far from her house.

" What's that? " Y/n whispers to herself with a scared face.

Y/n braved herself to check what was in the bush when that thing suddenly came out and made her scream so loud until Hyunjin and Jisung heard her scream. Both of the males went to her house and saw Kkami licking Y/n face while the girl was on the floor with a laugh, and both of them only blink their eyes at what they saw now. Hyunjin goes to take Kkami from Y/n face while Jisung helps Y/n get up.

" I'm sorry, Y/n, for my dog's action " Hyunjin sent Y/n an apologetic face.

Y/n gave the male a reassured smile before Y/n noticed the other male beside her. Jisung kind of froze in his place after making eye contact with Y/n.

" This is my brother, Han Jisung " Hyunjin nudges Jisung to make him snap back to reality.

" Nice to meet you, beautiful lady " Jisung flirted with Y/n.

Hyunjin mentally palmed his face at Jisung's flirty behaviour and made sure Y/n didn't expect that.

" Aah, I'm Jung Y/n and nice to meet you too " Y/n gives Jisung a bow.

" Are you living at this house alone? " Jisung question Y/n.

" Yup, I'm living here alone " Y/n shyly replies.

" If you need help, just go to our house " Jisung winked at her.

Y/n only let out an awkward laugh as she responded, and Hyunjin dragged Jisung back to their house after saying goodbye to Y/n.

" Aish… You like that with her, she will think that you're a weirdo guy " After arriving at their house, Hyunjin scolded Jisung.

" What I said is true " Jisung defends himself while both of them argue.

Chan looked at them while putting his hand at his waist with a scary face, so Chan cleared his throat to make both of them stop, and both of the males stopped arguing after noticing Chan in front of them.

" Where have both of you gone? " Chan asks with a serious tone.

" We both go to Y/n house after Kkami makes her startled " Hyunjin explains to Chan.

" Y/n?? " Chan tilted his head with a curious expression.

" Ooo, Y/n is our new neighbour that Jeongin talked about, and trust me, Hyung, when I say that she's really beautiful and almost looks unreal " Jisung literally bounced at his feet after speaking about the girl he just met today.

Chan gave Jisung an interested expression while crossing his arms at his chest.

" You sound so happy talking about her " Chan said.

" Of course, when I look at her, I feel like I want to bite her and mate with her " Jisung said until he didn't remember who was in front of him now.

Jisung's eyes widen after realization hits him, and Hyunjin bites his lips after what Jisung says.

" Hyung, I'm- I'm sorry. It just slipped out from my mouth " Jisung is shuttering while panic consumes him, but Chan only laughs at the younger male.

" That's sound very interesting and makes me want to meet her soon " Chan said with an amused tone.

Jisung and Hyunjin exhaled relief breath.

" You both go wash up, Minho will be mad at both of you " Chan tells both of the males.

Hyunjin and Jisung are quick to get inside the house with a scared face at Minho's name after Chan tells them, and Chan shakes his head.

{Time Skip}

Stray Kids gather around the living room with a very serious face, and Chan rubs his temple while pacing around the living room.

" I saw the wolf Namjoon Hyung talked about, and that wolf looked like they were looking at that house " Chan said, talking and showing at Y/n house.

" But I don't know why they want it or what they planned for her " Chan said, staring at his member.

" That's crossed the line, this is our place, and those wolves dare to cross it " Changbin says with a loud voice.

" Hyung, you knew the reasons? " Jeongin questions Chan.

" I don't exactly know the reasons, maybe the wolf wants her because she is human " Chan answered.

" So, what's the plan now? " Minho asked while crossing his legs on the sofa.

" We need to watch over every night and make a schedule to see who will do the watch over until the wolf is gone from our territory " Chan made a plan for everyone to have a turn-in watch over.

Stray Kids carefully made the plan to avoid making the unknowing wolf aware of their plans, and after making a plan, Changbin called his close friends.

" Hello " His friend answered.

" Yaah, Wooyoung - ah " Changbin greets Wooyoung and makes the male grimace at his loud voice.

" Geez, no need to yell at the phone. You will make me deaf," Wooyoung said.

" Do you talk to yourself? " Seonghwa in the other line mocked Wooyoung.

" What do you mean by that? " Wooyoung let out an offended gasp.

" You always yelled when you talked with her " Seonghwa dissing him.

" My baby is different, I was always excited when I talked with her " Wooyoung argued back.

Changbin, who heard everything, frowned.

" Who's this 'baby' that you really worked up when you mentioned this person? You got yourself some chicks to have fun? " Changbin curiously asked Wooyoung.

" Don't you dare say she is some slut, she's my girl and the most precious thing to me " Wooyoung yelled at Changbin.

" Changbin - ah, don't insult his girl if you still want to be his friend " Seonghwa warned Changbin.

" I'm sorry, Wooyoung " Changbin apologized to him. Wooyoung huffed in the other line but still accepted Changbin's apology.

" You won't introduce me to her? " Changbin teased the male.

" Hmp... I will consider it, just make sure not to fall in love with her " Wooyoung says sassily towards Changbin.

" Heh, I already have my mates " Changbin dismisses what his friend tells him.

" Don't talk like that, bro, you will regret it soon " Wooyoung evilly warned Changbin.

" Why do you say that? She's your girl, so you should protect her from other guys " Changbin frowns.

" Nevermind " Wooyoung utters and changes the topic.

Both of the males talked until late at midnight after a long time of not meeting each other.

Author pov

Today, like usual, Y/n will meet her older brother with his bandmates. So right now, Y/n is choosing her clothes from the wardrobe, but she doesn't know what to wear. After half an hour, Y/n decides to wear black jeans with a baby pink crop top, and Y/n wears light makeup to make her face look less pale.

" Done " Y/n cheered to herself before she left her house.

Y/n drives to KQ Entertainment, which is kind of far from her house, and Y/n opens her playlist while driving to meet with Wooyoung.

A few moments later,

Y/n arrives at her brother's company, and she goes inside only to see Wooyoung already waiting for her in the lobby.

" Babe " Wooyoung shouted at her.

" Oppa " Y/n engulfs her older brother in her hugs.

Y/n and Wooyoung tightly hug each other.

" Oh my god! I miss you so much " Wooyoung whispered at her.

" Let's go meet with others " Wooyoung pulls Y/n body somewhere.

Both of them go to ATEEZ studio that has the other members.

" Guys, Y/n is here " Wooyoung announced to let them know about Y/n.

" Hai, Y/nnie " ATEEZ greeted Y/n with warm hugs.

" Your brother has been whiny since yesterday " Jongho complains at Y/n.

" Yaa, how dare you betray me " Wooyoung glared at Jongho, but the male only stuck out his tongue at Wooyoung.

" Y/nnie " Seonghwa taps Y/n's shoulder.

" Yes, Hwa Oppa " Y/n turn to Seonghwa and look shocked when he and others give her a present.

" Ige mwongayo? ( what is this? ) Onuel - eun nae saeng - il - i anida ( today is not my birthday )" Y/n giggles at them.

" Ulin al- a ( we know ) " Seonghwa also giggled.

" We want to give you a present because you already achieved your own dream at a young age " Hongjoong said with a grin.

" You have your own house now with good work " Yeosang said, patting Y/n's head.

" And most important, you don't have to deal with your obsessed brother at home anymore " San said with a sarcastic tone towards Wooyoung.

" You're just jealous that me and Y/n are like a couple outside, you can't beat me " Wooyoung mocks San until San starts to chase him around the company.

" Oppa never changes " Y/n sighs at Wooyoung's childish behaviour.

ATEEZ told Y/n about what her brother had been doing after her last visit, and ATEEZ told her how Wooyoung lost his focus after Y/n moved out from their house because he told them he was worried about the girl's safety.

" But Wooyoung really is dramatic, he cried like you were going to die or getting married. I don't know how you tolerate with him " Yunho cursed Wooyoung without a care if he heard it.

" She only moves out, what if one day she gets married to someone " Mingi is also doing the same thing.

ATEEZ shakes their heads with an annoyed expression, and Y/n only lets them complain about her brother without saying another word. Y/n knew all of them only wanted to tease Wooyoung for being dramatic, but all of them are actually close to each other, like siblings and a big family, because Y/n can't always stay by his side, and the same is for Wooyoung, so Y/n feels grateful to ATEEZ for always being with her brother, even though sometimes he is painful in the ass to handle.

Wooyoung always supports her dream since they are both still kids, and now Y/n wants to show her full support for Wooyoung as a return for what he did for her, and now that both of the siblings have already gotten what they wanted, Y/n goes to Wooyoung and hugs him tightly until he is kind of shocked by the sudden hugs.

" Thank you for being the best brother to me. I will support you no matter what happens to us " Y/n mumbled at Wooyoung's neck.

Wooyoung gave Y/n a pat on the head while a soft smile was plastered on his face.

" Thanks, Y/nnie, you are also the best sister that God gave me in this world and life " Wooyoung takes Y/n scent, which makes him calm down.

Y/n and Wooyoung spend time together doing many things they want.

To Be Continue

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Taglist ( open ) : @jinniespuppy @obeythemasters @iadorethemskz @jisunglyricist @literallyags @katsukis1wife @biibiycandy @dreamingsmile @boi-bi-ahaha @berryberrytan @imasimplol

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[tcwmatchmakingau]

Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo

A/N: This is a standalone sequel to “Everybody Hates Neyo,” (NSFW) by @dystopicjumpsuit​ (that’s me), and “The Blacklist,” by the brilliant @blueink-bluesoul​, who also generously let me borrow the character of Daria Trace (THANK YOU!). You don’t need to read those fics to understand this one, but you should because they’re great and they provide more background. I converted the Reader-insert into an OC because to be frank, she’s a piece of work, and I didn’t want to project that onto my readers. That said, as always, feel free to insert yourself into the story if you prefer; I haven’t described the OC beyond being a woman with hair long enough to pull.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x the Admiral (formerly Fem!Reader)

Rating: M | 18+ | Minors DNI

Wordcount: 6.5K (I know)

Warnings and tags: toxic, obsessive behavior; SO MUCH SMUT; hatefucking; rough sex; oral sex; PIV; hair pulling; biting; sex under the influence of alcohol; Neyo and the Admiral being absolute menaces to society

Disclaimer: Let me just put on my Auntie DJ hat for a second. *ahem* This is a work of fiction intended for entertainment only. Please do not take this as a guide to romance or a healthy relationship. Neyo and the Bad-miral are flawed characters in a wildly problematic relationship with more red flags than the Fire Nation. Enjoy!

Matchmaker extraordinaire Daria Trace was not accustomed to failure. When she applied her considerable intellect to a problem, she did not stop until she formulated a solution. Which was why her now-99% matchmaking success rate galled her so intensely. In all her years of matchmaking, she had never encountered a client so stubbornly determined to thwart her efforts as Marshal Commander Neyo. After twelve failed matches—one of which involved a call from an infuriated woman demanding to know “why the kriff you thought I was a good match for that sociopath”—she had reluctantly conceded defeat.

The blacklisting of Commander Neyo from the Right to Love Matchmaking Service spread like wildfire through the GAR gossip channels. Most of the troopers thought it was hilarious; others insisted that he’d finally gotten what he deserved. In fact, the only people who seemed to have any sympathy for Neyo were Commanders Bacara (to be expected) and Fox (somewhat less expected). And when Fox reached out directly to Daria and asked her, as a personal favor, to give Neyo one more chance, she agreed. One more chance, and ONLY to give her an opportunity to get that track record back up to a perfect 100%.

She glared irritably at Neyo’s file and clicked her stylus three times, twirling it between her fingers. The man was impossible. It was no wonder he’d turned to RTL for help finding a partner; any woman in her right mind would run in the opposite direction the minute she looked into those blank, frigid eyes. She shuddered involuntarily. Shark’s eyes. Daria had made a few discreet inquiries after he’d first signed up for the service, just to make sure she wasn’t about to set up some unsuspecting match with a serial murderer. Without fail, every single answer said the same thing: he was an ice-cold sonofabitch, but he had a strict code of honor, and no, he wasn’t a serial murderer. Probably.

She sighed and tossed his file to the side, to be revisited some other day. He was her most difficult client, but by no means was he the only problematic match candidate, and she had a small stack of what Blizzard liked to call The Hopeless Casefiles waiting for her to review. Just thinking about Neyo’s case had given her the beginnings of a spectacular tension headache, and she flipped through the folders quickly, looking for one that was a little less challenging. As she skimmed the stacks of flimsi, her eyes came to rest on one name: Reeda Wai’yen.

Now there’s a thought.

Daria was sure that Reeda was a lovely woman, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was just very… intense. Like Neyo, she had chewed through several potential matches, and the most frequent word that appeared in her failed matches’ post-date surveys was “intimidating,” followed closely by “terrifying.” Daria had sniffed disdainfully that those particular matches simply couldn’t handle a strong woman; however, she had to admit that after several months of trying, she had not been able to find a perfect match for Reeda. She pulled Neyo’s file and laid it out next to Reeda’s. As she compared their backgrounds and preferences, she became more and more convinced. This could work. Given their personalities, it might well be the best possible outcome for society at large if they were both removed from the dating pool. And if it happened to close out her two most annoying files, well. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect-track-record sundae.

A timid knock sounded on Reeda’s office door.

“Come,” she called shortly.

Her assistant, Lissi, poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you’ve received a comm from RTL Matchmaking.”

Reeda cursed. She was up to her ass in flimsiwork, and she was meeting with the Senate Task Force on Galactic Security in ten minutes. She did not have time for this now. 

“Take care of it,” she ordered.

“Sir?” Lissi asked, her wide, startled eyes giving her a distinct resemblance to a terrified ash-rabbit. 

“Just take care of it,” Reeda repeated, tamping down her irritation at being questioned. “You know my schedule better than I do. Set it up. Somewhere nice—somewhere in the Federal district. I don’t have time to deal with traffic.”

Lissi blinked, nonplussed. “Don’t you want to see who you matched with?”

“No time,” Reeda said, rising to gather her materials for the meeting. “Just put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

Three nights later, Reeda sat in the restaurant at the top of the tower where her penthouse was located, waiting for her mystery date to arrive. She had to commend Lissi’s efficiency in choosing the venue; the only traffic she’d had to endure was at the lift. And it was a lovely restaurant, she had to admit, with stunning views of the Coruscant cityscape. She had only eaten here once since she’d bought the flat, usually opting to have food delivered to her office at the Republic Center for Military Operations as she worked late into the night.

She had resisted the urge to bring her datapad with her to the restaurant, knowing that if she did, she would inevitably get sucked into work, but now she wished she’d taken a moment to review the file from RTL. It wasn’t that she thought all clone troopers were interchangeable; far from it. She had worked closely with them during the war, had fought by their sides, and she had found them to be brave, competent, and loyal. They were also notoriously attractive, but she was a professional, and she was their superior officer, and she had never allowed that line to become blurred—except on one memorable and highly regrettable occasion.

She had had no time for a personal life during the war, but now that it was over—well, to be honest, she still had no time for a personal life. Which was exactly why she had reached out to RTL; it was the perfect solution. She didn’t enjoy solitude. She wanted companionship, and maybe even something more. But she needed a partner who would understand the demands of her career, and nobody understood the burden of duty better than the clones. Now that she had separated from the GAR and returned to her post in her home planet’s military defense force, the rules regarding fraternization no longer applied to her.

She hadn’t bothered to review the file because she’d learned from the previous several failed dates that a promising file was no indicator of compatibility. Still, as she waited for her date, who was now seven minutes late, she wished she’d at least checked to see if he had any identifying marks or tattoos that would make him easier to spot. To be fair, though, the few clones present in the restaurant were already paired up with other diners.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t intended to skip lunch, but she’d had back-to-back meetings with the joint chiefs of the Core Worlds Defense Alliance and the senate appropriations committee, and one thing led to another. The service droid had delivered a basket of fresh, hot bread rolls, which she had heroically resisted for the first six minutes past the scheduled start of the date, but now her resolve began to crumble. If her mystery date didn’t have the basic courtesy to be on time, by the Force, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she ate all the bread before he arrived.

She buttered a roll and took a small bite. She couldn’t suppress the groan of relief at the buttery, yeasty goodness, and she quickly polished it off, then picked up another. She had just begun to butter her third role when the unmistakable voice of a clone spoke next to her.

“Admiral.”

She turned automatically, a smile just beginning to form on her lips, when she caught sight of a familiar set of numbers tattooed on a handsome, arrogant face.

“Oh, no,” she said with disgust. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Marshal Commander Neyo replied contemptuously. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I’m on a date,” she snapped.

He looked pointedly at the empty chair across from her. “Looks like your date has a strong sense of self-preservation. Probably took one look at you and ran for their life.”

“He’s just a little late,” she said, tilting her jaw at a haughty angle to hide the flash of hurt at his words.

“That must kill you,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “I remember the time you made a Jedi padawan cry for being three minutes behind schedule.”

“There were barely tears. Do. Not. Sit,” she gritted out as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from her. He picked up one of the remaining bread rolls and took a large bite, and she sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“It just so happens, I am also on a date,” he said, mumbling around the bite of bread.

“Oh?” she wrinkled her nose at his table manners. “And who’s the unlucky lady?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some civvie named Reeda.”

Her hand tightened dangerously around her butter knife. Neyo’s eyes dropped to the blade, and he smirked.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

“You could say that,” she said, grinding her jaw. “I’m Reeda.”

He choked on his bite of bread and wheezed a bit, pounding his chest to clear his airway. Alas, he survived.

“What?” he sputtered.

“You didn’t even bother to find out my first name after you were inside me?” she demanded. Her sharp tone attracted attention from the surrounding diners, and she heard a few quiet titters from the tables around her, but she was too irate to care.

“You didn’t even bother to find out who’d be eating dinner with you?” he retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t just as surprised as I am,” she snapped. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“I didn’t get a file, just a call.” He grunted. “Apparently, ‘beggars can’t be choosers,’ and I was lucky to get a match at all.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mocked.

“Careful, Admiral. Don’t forget they matched you with me.”

“I would be insulted if it weren’t so obviously a mistake. I can’t say I’m impressed with their performance thus far.”

“For once, I agree with you,” he said. “You’d have to be a special kind of incompetent to think we were a good match.”

The service droid approached the table and asked, “May I take your order?”

“He’s not staying,” Reeda cut in.

“I’ll have the bantha filet,” Neyo replied, ignoring her. “Bloody.”

He turned to her and arched his brows. The droid waited expectantly.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she lied.

Neyo’s mouth twisted, and he huffed a breath through his nose. “The admiral will have the roast porg. And a bottle of Alderaanian red.”

The droid nodded and ambled away. Reeda glared at Neyo.

“I don’t eat meat, you presumptuous ass,” she said.

“Liar,” he said. “Unfortunately, the souls of the innocent weren’t on the menu, so I had to settle for your second-favorite meal.”

“At least you’re safe, since you obviously have no soul and you’re definitely not innocent,” she said in a pleasant tone.

Damn him for being right about the porg, though. How did he know?

The wine arrived, and he poured a generous glass for each of them. She didn’t toast; just downed half of it in a single swallow. Neyo sipped his and leaned back in his chair to observe her. His sleek, severe hair and the large tattoo on his cheek made him look menacing as hell, but it was his eyes that made brave men take a step back. She didn’t know how it was possible for his eyes to be that unnerving. Gods, why did he have to be so handsome? What a waste of perfectly good Fett genes to have a personality like that.

“Did you stay just to torment me?” she asked when the silence stretched beyond the limits of her endurance.

“And because I heard the filet was good,” he said affably. “What are you even doing on Coruscant? I thought you’d scuttled back to whatever hellhole spawned you.”

“Kuat,” she bit out from between clenched teeth. “I was assigned to work as our military liaison on Coruscant.”

“Couldn’t stand having you back on the planet?” he derided. “I don’t blame them.”

“I need to use the fresher,” she said, flinging her napkin down on the table with excessive force. “Feel free to die while I’m gone.”

She strode purposefully through the restaurant, her face set in a steely mask. She knew she was drawing attention from other patrons, but if she sat at that table and listened to Neyo needle her for one more second, she was either going to stab him or burst into tears. She pushed through the refresher doors and went to the sink, washing her hands just to give herself something to do. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was Admiral Wai’yen, not Reeda. Stern. Unyielding. Unaffected.

She swallowed, and her face crumpled. Tears of rage stung her eyes, and she ruthlessly wiped them away with her clenched fist. A soft noise at the door startled her, and she whirled to face the intruder. Horror flooded her. It was Neyo, and he’d caught her crying in the ladies’ room.

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing in here?” she demanded icily. “Get out.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he locked the door. Stalking across the room, he cupped her jaw in his hands and tilted her face to get a closer look. She tried to pull away, to put her Admiral Wai’yen mask back in place, but then his thumb stroked softly next to her eye, wiping away the tear that had breached containment. She gasped involuntarily, and his lips collided with hers.

Reeda was so shocked that for a moment she went perfectly still, but then Neyo flicked his tongue across her lower lip, and her body remembered how to move. She thrust him away and stood back, glaring at him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and those cold eyes blazed with a dark and covetous fire. She raised a hand to her lips and felt the slickness left by his tongue. Something snapped inside her. She took two hasty steps forward, and she was in his arms again, his hands rough and dominating on her body as they consumed each other with a kiss that teetered on the edge of violence. 

Lips, tongues, teeth crashed together. He clasped her tightly against his hard, unyielding body, and unbidden, the memory of him deep inside her came flooding back. He gripped her ass and ground his rapidly stiffening cock against her. Her reaction was electric. She rolled her hips, nearly climbing him in desperation. He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed her once, roughly, and then to her breast, yanking aside her dress as he closed his teeth on her soft skin. He picked her up by the waist and set her on the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees between her thighs, rucking up her dress around her hips, and then his mouth was on her.

He didn’t even bother removing her underwear, as though he couldn’t wait another millisecond to taste her. He licked and sucked on her through the fabric, his mouth working frantically. Her body jolted and trembled at the effort of staying upright, and then his tongue snaked past the lace and dipped into her, smooth and hot and wet. He let out a vicious growl and grabbed her hips, settling her thighs over his shoulders, and then he pulled her off the sink and thrust her against his face as his tongue speared over and over into her cunt. She yelped and scrambled to brace herself with her hands, her arms shaking with exertion.

She couldn’t come like this, but kriff, it was hot to feel Neyo throw her around with such ease, like she was his own personal toy. How many nights had she fucked herself to sleep to the memory of their first encounter? The way he’d lifted her bodily off the ground and thrust into her, supporting them both with those powerful thighs—it played on a loop in her head for months, long after the bite marks and bruises had faded.

His tongue slid out of her cunt and swirled around her clit, and her legs spasmed around his head. She couldn’t come like this. Could she? All the muscles in her body began to tense, and her pelvis began to rock rhythmically against his face. Shit, I’m going to come. No sooner had the thought formed than Neyo dropped her back onto the sink and pulled away from her.

“No!” she wailed. “You bastard, I was right there!”

He shot to his feet. “Shut. Up,” he bit out, and kissed her punishingly hard. “Do you want the whole Federal District to know what we’re doing?”

He pulled her head back to expose her throat, and he scraped his teeth across her delicate skin. She felt his other hand fumbling in between them. Within seconds, his cock was free and thrusting against the scrap of lace that still covered her. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, determined to find the stimulation that she needed to reach completion.

“Get inside me,” she hissed.

“You aren’t calling the shots any more, Admiral,” he growled. “You don’t get to give commands.”

“I hate you,” she breathed. 

“And yet here you are, begging for my cock,” he said coldly. 

“I do not beg,” she said. “Ever.”

He released her hair and pried her legs away from himself, then took a step back. “You get nothing until you admit that you want me. I’ve waited a long time for this. I can keep waiting.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding off the sink to stand in front of him.

“It means you give me what I want, or I walk out that door right now and you can figure your own shit out.”

Was this his twisted kriffing way of asking for consent? Because she was pretty sure she’d covered that when she all but ordered him to fuck her.

“Fine,” she said in a low voice. “I…” She nearly choked on the words, and Neyo’s intent gaze pinned her in place. “I want you.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a bruising kiss, then spun her around and bent her over the sink. He pulled up her dress, yanked down her panties, and thrust into her. She muffled a whimper at the intrusion and squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the stretch. He wrapped his hands around her hair and jerked her head up.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch,” he ordered.

She complied, shocked when she saw her own ravaged face in the mirror as Neyo pounded into her from behind. Her makeup was smeared, her hair was a wreck, her eyes were dilated with lust, and a sheen of sweat glistened across her skin. She flicked her gaze to stare at Neyo. His face was twisted into a scowl, and if she had any sense at all, she would have been frightened, but she was in too deep to care. His hard eyes met hers in the mirror, and his jaw tightened.

He released her hair and slid his arm around her body, between her breasts, to wrap around her throat, and he lifted her upright so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you know what you did to me?” His voice was hoarse and anguished. “Every time I kissed someone, all I could taste was you. Every time I hooked up, all I could remember was this perfect fucking pussy.”

He pounded into her with bruising intensity, furiously working her clit with his free hand. Her head began to throb. This was so wrong. He couldn’t be saying what she thought she was hearing. She was confused from the lack of blood flowing to her brain.

“I got matched twelve different times, and not one of them was right, because not one of them was you,” he snarled. “You cursed me. You haunt me.”

The world began to darken around the edges as her eyes drifted closed, and he released her throat and forced her head to the side so she faced him.

“Look at me when you fucking come,” he ordered.

She gasped, and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to muffle her scream as he wrenched an orgasm from her body. He didn’t let up, chasing after her at a frenzied pace that rocked her entire body as she sobbed into his hand.

“Inside?” he asked roughly.

She nodded and whimpered as tears blurred her vision and spilled down her cheeks. He came with two brutal thrusts, and she felt the hot rush of his release deep inside. He shuddered against her hair as his cock softened and slipped out of her. At last, he loosened his grip and turned her to face him as he leaned against the wall for support. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her hair as she rested her head against him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she sighed as she licked his neck, unable to resist the temptation of tasting his skin.

“I’m sure there’s an official list in my GAR file,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Reeda cleaned up quickly while Neyo went back to their table so they wouldn’t be spotted leaving the refresher together. Her hairstyle was destroyed, so she hastily repinned it as well as she could, and then wiped off the mascara that smudged heavily beneath her eyes. A quick reapplication of lipstick, and she almost looked presentable—with the minor exception of her missing panties, which Neyo had silently retrieved from the refresher floor and tucked into his pocket while maintaining strong eye contact.

When she returned to the dining room, Neyo waylaid her with a ferocious expression. Force, what is he scugged about now?

“We’re leaving,” he said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the exit. A few quiet murmurs whispered around the room as he dragged her behind him.

“What?” she asked, tugging her wrist to no avail. “Why?”

“The karking droid gave away our table,” he said.

“My deepest apologies, Admiral,” the droid said. “We can locate another table if you would care to wait.”

Reeda assessed the room quickly. Every table was occupied, and none of the diners were anywhere close to being ready to leave. Moreover, at least half of the customers were eyeing her and Neyo with expressions ranging from amusement to overt curiosity.

“No,” she said. “Have the food delivered to my flat.”

“Right away, sir,” the droid replied, waddling off to relay the order to the kitchen.

Neyo looked at her inquisitively. “Your flat?”

“I live in this building,” she said. “Come with me.”

She was keenly aware of the many sets of eyes that tracked their hasty exit, but before long, she led Neyo into the private, secure lift that opened directly into her penthouse. He stood silently next to her on the trip up, watching her with an inscrutable gaze. She tried not to give herself an opportunity to second-guess her decision to let him into her home. Strange, she thought, how this seemed more intimate than allowing him inside her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed another person into her home. 

The lift doors opened, and he followed her into the flat, pausing long enough to remove their shoes, then looking around curiously.

“Lived here long?”

“A few months,” she said. “I bought it when I found out I’d be stationed on Coruscant long-term.”

“It’s nice,” he said. “Very… clean.”

She laughed. “You mean sterile. I haven’t had time to do much decorating. I’m hardly here except to sleep, anyway.”

He nodded. “I thought I’d have more time for hobbies after the war ended, but now it’s just nonstop—”

“Red tape and committees,” she finished with a sympathetic grimace. He shot her a wry grin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before, and it did uncomfortable things to her brain. She tried not to think about it, instead asking, “What kind of hobbies? Aside from plotting my slow death, obviously.”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Torturing small, adorable creatures; sharpening my vibroblade collection; collecting stamps; that sort of thing.”

She blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He regarded her steadily for a moment, eyes unreadable as ever. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

She was taken aback. “I—”

Her reply was cut off by the chime of the door. The food had arrived, thank the Force, which gave her a moment to stop herself from blurting out her immediate thought: You’ve never given me any reason to think anything else.

Neyo was a competent soldier—brilliant, in fact. There was no question that he had one of the finest tactical and strategic minds in the GAR. But as a person? From the moment they’d met, he’d been antagonistic, sardonic, cold. He’d challenged her authority and provoked her in meetings. He’d only treated her with the barest semblance of civility in public, and in private—Well. They both knew how things went when they were alone.

The service droid rolled a cart into the dining room and began setting up the meal.

“Can I get you a drink?” she offered Neyo. “I don’t have any Alderaanian red, but I do have Cheedoan whiskey.”

“The good stuff,” he replied. “I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

The droid finished setting up and shuffled out the front door as Reeda poured two generous glasses of whiskey at the wet bar.

“Ice?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, and when she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses in surprise to find him standing close behind her. He locked his eyes on hers and never looked away as he took one of the glasses and drained it in a single swallow, then set it down with a decisive click on the counter. Her heart began to pound as he loomed over her. He traced his fingers from her elbow up to her wrist, and then he wrapped his hand around hers and raised her glass to her lips. 

The whiskey burned a fiery path across her tongue and down her throat. A few droplets escaped and splashed coldly on her chest. Neyo didn’t let up until she emptied the glass, and when she was done, he leaned down and sucked the liquor off her skin. His hands dropped to her hips and slid up her back as he located the zipper of her dress and dragged it down excruciatingly slowly, and all the while, his mouth moved across her skin. He slipped the straps down over her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor, and then he kissed a path along the lacy edge of her bra.

“Thanks for the matched set,” he said, unhooking it and pulling it off.

“Those were expensive, asshole,” she said unsteadily.

He didn’t reply, but she knew she was never going to see that bra again. He kissed his way down her breast and captured her nipple in his mouth, abrading it lightly with his teeth. She jolted, and the empty glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the hard tiles of the floor. 

Neyo barely responded to the sound of shattering crystal. Reeda froze, keenly aware that the smallest movement could result in a bloody footful of glass. She stood utterly, helplessly still as he continued to explore her body with his teeth and lips and hands and tongue. He was thorough in his attentions, and something about being entirely at his mercy was wildly arousing. Her head spun as the whiskey began to work its insidious way through her bloodstream.

“I missed this perfume. What is it?” he murmured against the soft skin of her abdomen.

“I don’t wear any,” she said.

He nuzzled against her as though he could transfer her scent to his own skin. Without warning, he scooped her up and carried her out of the room, completely disregarding the risk to himself. But instead of dropping her as soon as they were clear of the broken glass as she expected, he asked, “Bedroom?”

“Left,” she said, and he strode across the flat and kicked open the door, to her intense irritation. “You gonna pay for the broken doorknob?”

He didn’t reply, just tossed her onto the bed and pounced on her as soon as she landed. He slid in between her thighs and gripped her hard as his mouth descended on hers, kissing her as though he were trying to devour her soul. He was still fully clothed, and she scrambled to pull off his shirt. He was completely unhelpful, too engrossed in her taste. She raked her nails across his skin as she yanked his shirt over his head, and he seized her lip in his teeth in revenge.

At last, the barrier of his shirt was gone, and she writhed against him, desperate to feel as much of his warm, smooth skin against her as possible. They clashed together, sinking nails and teeth into each other. At some point, Neyo got his trousers down enough to free his cock, and he shoved into her. His belt chafed harshly on her delicate skin as she wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. The sounds they made were unholy, primal: growls and grunts and screams of pain and ecstasy as they tore into each other with all the aggression that they had built over the years. 

She pulled his hair; he clawed her back. She slapped his face; he bit her shoulder. She snarled that she loathed him; he interlaced his fingers with hers and whispered how beautiful she was when she came apart beneath him. She thrust him away and kicked him across the bed; he pinned her down and fucked her until she sobbed and begged for more. At some point, she tasted blood, and she didn’t know or care whose it was. And when at last she lost count of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm, he curled his body around hers and traced his thumb softly over her features as she drifted to sleep.

“If I die while I’m inside you, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven,” he whispered.

“Force, you say some kriffed up shit,” she grumbled.

Reeda awakened slowly, aware of something blissfully warm and soothing moving across her skin. She cracked her eyes open. Neyo was lying on top of her, dragging his tongue lazily over her body. He roamed along her curves, and it wasn’t until he paused at her bruised wrist that she realized what he was doing.

“Are you licking my wounds?” she breathed.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes met hers with an intensity that bordered on madness. Gods, everything about this was so fucked up, and she didn’t dare examine too closely why she found it so incredibly arousing. He moved slowly, meticulously, his tongue gliding softly over every centimeter of her body, until she felt like a bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark. She came before he ever reached her cunt, and again as he rocked gently inside her, his lips soft against her mouth, silent tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to course down her temples.

After, he guided her into the shower, and when her legs gave out, he held her upright as the hot water washed over them. Once he’d massaged her entire body with his strong, soapy hands, he dried her off and laid her back on the bed while he spread bacta across the damage he’d inflicted. It was disorienting to be cared for so thoroughly by the man who’d spent the better part of four years making her life hell. He didn’t speak, and she didn’t know what to say, so in the end, she simply watched him in silence.

When he finished with the bacta, he retrieved their dinner from the dining room. The food had long since gone cold, but after hours of intense physical activity, they were famished, and they ate it anyway, sharing bites and sipping whiskey straight from the decanter. Neyo sat with his back against the headboard, his long, strong legs bracketing Reeda as she leaned back against his broad chest.

“How did you know porg was my favorite?” she asked.

He shrugged. “They’re tiny, cute, and innocent. I just assumed you would enjoy extinguishing the life from them and consuming their remains.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him. “Is that why you order your meat rare? Because it’s the next best thing to drinking straight from the source?”

“Finally, someone who understands,” he smirked. “Truthfully, I overheard you tell Admiral Coburn that porg was your favorite during a banquet at the strategy conference at Valor.”

She turned to stare up at him. “Neyo, that was two years ago. That was before we ever…”

“I know,” he said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder as his lips glided across her skin. 

“What does it say about you that you like it?” he whispered when he reached her ear.

He pulled her close, positioning himself between her and the bedroom door. From the proprietary way he held her, she knew it was a deliberate choice; any threat that came through that door would have to go through him before it got to her, and she had a feeling that there weren’t many beings in the galaxy that were brave or foolish enough to try.

Reeda jerked awake to a furious pounding at the front door. Neyo was already halfway out of the bedroom, stark naked and armed with a steak knife from their midnight dinner.

“Wait here,” he ordered, his voice hard and flat.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled on a bathrobe and grabbed a blaster from her nightstand. Neyo glared at her when she joined him, but didn’t bother yelling at her.

“Coruscant guard! Open up,” a modulated voice shouted harshly from outside the door.

Neyo glanced questioningly at her, and she shrugged, hiding the blaster behind her robe. He stepped out of view of the door, and she opened it to find none other than Marshal Commander Fox, flanked by two Corrie ARC troopers.

“Commander,” she greeted him, not bothering to conceal the surprise in her voice.

“Good to see you’re in one piece, Admiral,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, baffled.

“We received multiple calls about a disturbance at your address. Are you alone?”

Reeda felt a hot rush of blood wash over her face and neck. “I fail to see how that is any business of yours, Commander.”

“Sorry, sir, but it’s my duty to—” He stopped abruptly, and his visor shifted to a point behind her. 

“Isn’t this a little below your pay grade, Fox?” Neyo drawled close behind Reeda.

Fox’s visor turned back to Reeda, then to Neyo, and then back to Reeda again. The two ARC troopers appeared to be fascinated by the walls on either side of the front door. 

At last, Fox spoke. “I don’t send shinies to wake up admirals.”

Neyo’s hand slid possessively around the front of Reeda’s abdomen, and he pulled her against his nude body. Something large and solid prodded against her backside. Dank farrik, is he turned on right now? Sick bastard.

“Thank you for your concern,” she told Fox, “but everything is under control.”

“So I see,” Fox replied. “Still, you’ll need to keep the noise level down, or I’ll have no choice but to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

Neyo reached forward silently and shut the door in Fox’s face, then he spun Reeda around, picked her up over his shoulder, and carried her back to the bedroom. The last thing Fox heard was the unmistakable sound of Neyo’s hand slapping her ass as Reeda shrieked with indignant laughter.

Republic Military HQ buzzed quietly with speculation the next morning when not one, but two of the most senior command staff called in sick for the first time in either of their careers. Rumors swirled: some were convinced a secret bioweapon had been released by Separatist holdouts; others maintained that the stress of dealing with politicians was beginning to take a toll; still others claimed that it was a coverup and that the marshal commander and the admiral had been taken hostage by pirates. It was whispered that Commander Fox had a particularly haunted expression that morning, and two of the Coruscant Guard ARC Troopers had contacted the legal department to update their wills. In the midst of all this, the beleaguered Lissi received a brusque order to inform RTL Matchmaking that the admiral no longer required their services.

Daria drained her third iced caf of the morning as she flicked through her holomessages. Buried amidst the intake forms and meeting invitations was an abrupt-bordering-on-rude note from Marshal Commander Neyo ordering her to close his file.

“Why do you look like the tooka that got the blue milk?” her fellow matchmaker Tarsi Renda asked as she passed Daria in the corridor.

“Oh, no reason,” Daria smiled. “The galaxy is back to normal, that’s all—and my track record is once again perfect.”

---

DJ’s masterlist | Join my tag list here

#tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps #commander neyo #neyo x the admiral #commander neyo x ofc #neyo x ofc #neyo x the bad-miral

[idololivine]

"Eiden and Quincy were far from the only trans people in the clan, but they were the only ones who had felt the need to get this specific surgery". i think the entire clan can be trans. As a treat. yakumo was a snake, the way he portrays himself can be seen as a choice. edmond's family is extremely wealthy so he got bougie gender affirming care from an early age. olivine's decent with magic which he could use to change his appearance + there's potential for some neat religious imagery of being reborn a new and/or further religious guilt. altho from what we know abt the church of klein tbh i want to believe there's no religiously motivated transphobia in klein

ANYWAY

kuya has canonically been shown to use illusions to portray himself as other people and even as a woman. garu and karu are like yakumo too, they were a wolf but transformed. blade doesnt know what gender is, but he can swap out his dick for a pussy module if he wants to. dante got free top surgery and hrt from the fire spirits. rei makes unethical diy hrt in his meth lab. They can all be transgender.... (smokes a fat blunt)

THEY CAN ALL BE TRANSGENDER... YOU UNDERSTAND ME...

I generally stick to the idea that there's no transphobia in Klein, religiously motivated or otherwise, same way there's no homophobia. I think it's in line with the setting and it's also just plain wish fulfillment tbh. my personal Oli hc is that he's non op and on fantasy testosterone, big naturals and cute little tdick. I also really like him in relation to the following quote

“As my friend Julian puts it, only half winkingly: “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.” ― Daniel Mallory Ortberg, Something That May Shock and Discredit You

which I think is less official doctrine and more how he personally approaches gender and faith. if I were angling for angst maybe the church isn't overtly transphobic but there's a little bit of "be grateful for the body god gave you"... but I also like plain uncomplicated trans joy. but headcanon doesn't have to be consistent so I can have both depending on the mood.

I'm a believer of Kuya's ability to have whatever bits he pleases at whatever time. pussy, cock, whatever, magic lets him do anything. "if magic is so good why does surgery exist" you may ask. because gender affirming surgery is cool and sexy. and most people aren't ancient yokai with access to powerful magicks. and Quincy refused to be in Kuya's debt. anyway, Kuya does whatever he wants because gender is meaningless to a magic fox.

Blade hc is that he was born a ken doll, had a dick made for him in Saia because the sexbot investor guy demanded it (see: Rusted Nation), and asked Rei to make him a pussy module because the vagina-havers of the clan looked like they were having so much fun and he got curious. so he swaps them in and out as he pleases, depending on what the mood is that day.

Rei making his own diy hrt is extremely true and real. he also has the most insane homemade straps.

#asks #my posts #Anonymous #nu carnival

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated: March 2024

“Timeless” Toni Storm is simultaneously a throwback to a bygone Golden Age and, in this contemporary grappling scene, someone rather singular.

HOTSEAT 

AN INCISIVE INTERVIEW WITH THE SPORT’S TOP STARS AND FIGURES 

TONI STORM

The whole place seemed to have been stricken with a kind of creeping paralysis. Out of beat with the rest of the world, crumbling apart in slow motion. A once-grand estate, nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills … a relic from a bygone age in Tinseltown. Back then, they didn’t need dialogue. They had faces. This is where Pro Wrestling Illustrated had sent me, on assignment for an exclusive interview with a woman whose startling reinvention has taken All Elite Wrestling–and the entire wrestling world–by storm, you might say. These days, she doesn’t show herself in public very much, aside from TV tapings and, of course, on the set. So, landing the interview took some doing, but if there’s anything 30 years covering this crazy business has taught me, it’s how to get my foot in the door. 

This time, that foot would be in the door of a palatial mansion that may very well  have once housed Valentino, DeMille, Garbo, or Fairbanks. Walking under the shade of rows of aging palms, past that once crystal-clear outdoor pool, between the cracked pillars of a French facade, I’m greeted by the butler; a loyal, oddly quiet man who brings me inside. Shrouded partly in sharp shadows, by the flickering light on a roaring fireplace, she sits reclining on a chaise lounge… Toni Storm. At first, she is reluctant to break her silence, so I have to win her trust. Part of that means playing along with what can sometimes only be described as  a baffling , yet mesmerizing delusion. In the end it’s working for her; If Toni Storm is crazy, then she’s crazy like a fox.

We chat for what seems like hours, as she relays to me her hopes and dreams, her natural connection with the fans, whether in the stands or watching at home–those wonderful people out there in the dark.

What follows are the highlights of that enlightening conversation. By the end of it, I felt I had developed a real understanding of who Toni Storm is now. I get it. She really is “Timeless.” Perhaps more than that, she is transcendent. 

And she’s ready for her closeup, Mr Khan. 

Brian R. Solomon: Thank you so much for granting me this interview, Ms. Storm. I realize you’re a very busy woman. First, let me say that there are a lot of people, myself included, who would say that right now, “Timeless” Toni Storm is one of the best, most entertaining things on AEW television, I wanted to know how you feel about that.

Storm: Well, thank you very much. I completely understand why you’re feeling that way. I am a very exciting act. I have been a very exciting act for a very long time. And I’ve always blown audiences away, no matter where I’ve gone or what I’ve done. So, you are right to be feeling like this. I am, as the kids say, “killing it.”

Solomon: Nevertheless, having to address your transformation as of late. It’s been very dramatic, to say the least. What do you say to the fans who might be wondering what happened to the Toni Storm that they remembered? Storm: Well, you see, it’s simple, really. I have played many roles all throughout my career. And now what you’re seeing, “Timeless” Toni Storm, is the real me. I’m finally ready to show the world who I well and truly am. And this is it. Over the years, fans have seen others of the numerous roles I've played. For instance, most recently I used to be “Green Goblin #3” of the Outcasts trio. But now, I’m finally revealing myself, Finally revealing my true self, I should say. And that is “Timeless” Toni Storm.

Solomon: That word, “Timeless.” it keeps coming up. Could you help us understand what that word means to you? Storm: How do I put this? Ah, yes. I transcend. Yes, I’m in a different realm. In this realm, there is no time. I just exist. I do not age. I was not born. I will not die. Stars never die. I just am.

[If you ask some of the broadcast journalists at AEW, Toni Storm has lost her marbles. But the “Timeless” one tells PWI She’s just found her true self.]

Solomon: I have to ask–and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way–but did the loss of the AEW Women’s World title to Hikaru Shida last summer on the 200th episode of AEW dynamite have anything to do with what we’re seeing from you lately? Not to mention the fact that it was your supposed friend and ally, Saraya, who pinned you to win the title during the three-way match with Shinda during All In at Wembley Stadium. The reason I ask is that those developments all took place around the same time. And those losses, the way they happened, would cause many people to reconsider the path of their career.

Storm: Alright, I admit it. I’m going to finally admit it here for the readers of Pro Wrestling Illustrated. When I lost the title to Hikaru Shida, I absolutely lost it. I fell apart. And I would like to apologize to all my fans who had to witness that. But now, I have risen from the ashes. I am on quite a fantastic winning streak right now, in case you haven't noticed. I have picked myself off the ground. And I'm doing better than I ever have done. This has really ignited the fire inside of me once again. One cannot deny that Hikaru Shida has the heart of a champion. One cannot deny, even, that she has the heart of a lion. And one might say that she was destined to be a champion.  But every destiny comes to an end.

Solomon: I’m sure you’ve noticed this, but there are a lot of fans–and even the television announcers  who call your matches, like Taz and Tony Schiavone–who seem to be very concerned about you these days. Some of them have even spoken about you like you may have lost your mind. How do you take that?

Storm: Well, I’m not going to lie, darling. I don’t know where all of this misplaced concern is coming from, because I have never felt more “with it” in my entire life. I don’t know where people are getting these ideas from. I don't know who is daring to spread these ugly rumors about me. But I am done with it, truly. And you don’t need to worry about me, because I'm giving the performance of my lifetime. I’m doing just fine. I just cannot fathom where they are getting the idea that I've lost it, or why anyone would even entertain such a thought.

[Dressed as if she’s just emerged from her spacious trailer on a Hollywood studio lot, Ms. Storm shares a jaunty laugh with her adoring public.]

Solomon: Well, I think I can tell you one thing that might have been giving them that idea: the smeared makeup. That certainly might be having some people worried. I hope you can at least understand that. And, while we’re on the subject, maybe you could let us in on what that’s all about. 

Storm: Well, you see, I was talking to RJ City, and I had an epiphany…a revelation, you might say. It was then that I realized that I'm “Timeless” Toni Storm. But getting to that realization, leading up to it, was very difficult. And that takes a toll. This whole lifestyle can be very hard, mentally, on a performer. That realization can be hard to bear. And so, once in a while, you can lose control. 

Solomon: I’m not sure I understand.

Storm: Have you ever had a mental breakdown?

Solomon: I suppose I have. Many people have, at one point or another, but that’s not–

Storm: and you’ve never smeared your makeup?

Solomon: No. That, I've never done, no. Mental breakdown, maybe, yes. Smeared makeup? No.

Storm: In my world, where there is a mental breakdown, there is a bit of a smeared makeup job. However, I have a new butler now. And there will be no makeup smears. Everything is taken care of. I fired my stylist. And that was a good move. You won’t be seeing any more smeared makeup on me. I’m going to be immaculate, all of the time. 

[“SPRAYPAINTING THINGS LIKE WE USED TO DO”: Saraya attempts to incapacitate her challenger, who rallies back with Storm Zero piledriver at the Dynamite: Grand Slam taping.]

Solomon: Yes, I did notice the butler right away. He’s hard to miss. But you mentioned RJ City. Let’s get back to him. I’m interested in talking about RJ, because I noticed that he’s been with you now since you’ve been reborn, so to speak. We’d previously seen him doing backstage interviews with Renee Paquette, or hosting his excellent web interview series, HEY! EW. But lately, he seems to really be a big part of what you’ve been doing. How would you describe what your relationship is with him right now?

Storm: The thing about RJ City is he has a bit of an attitude problem. I’m going to let you all in on this. He can be difficult. He’s very cheeky. I would even go so far as to say that he’s a bit of a pest, really. So, you can’t trust him entirely. But he is around me all the time. And he was there when I had my revelation. Now, I just can’t get rid of him. But he seems to always be there to help me if I should need something, I suppose. 

Solomon: So, kind of like a pet?

Storm: Yes, exactly! He’s like my dog friend. Everyone should have one. A trusty, loyal sled dog. Solomon: I’m sure he'll be delighted to read that.

Storm: Hopefully not. I love doing this, even just to annoy him.

[Beneath the catchphrases, dramatic turns (faces!), and somewhat erratic behavior, Ms. Storm is a woman possessed by the desire to return to her former glory.]

Solomon: Now, we talked about previously losing the AEW Women’s title and how you came to these realizations. But obviously, before that, you had been one of the Outcasts, with Saraya and Ruby Soho. Now, you’ve kind of splintered off into your own universe. I’d like to ask if you have any awareness at all of how your former allies in the Outcasts feel about the new Toni Storm?

Storm: Saraya certainly hasn’t seemed very happy with me recently, for some reason. I don’t know why. But whatever problems Saraya has with me, whatever reason she’s upset, I'm sure she'll get over it. As a matter of fact, they'll all be fine. I don’t really know what they’re up to. I’m sure they’re just off, spray-painting things, like we used to do.

[“I need the biggest prize, the biggest trophy … I can’t bear to be seen without it. A lot of my self-worth comes from being champion.”]

Solomon: Are you above the AEW Women’s World championship at this point? Is that even the main goal of your career? Or are you bigger than that now?

Storm: I wouldn’t say bigger than the title, necessarily. It’s more that I need it. It’s something that I need to possess in order to be okay. I need the biggest prize, the biggest trophy. It’s become very much a big part of my art. I can’t bear to be seen without it. A lot of my self-worth comes from being champion.

Solomon: I have to ask you about the show. I mean, I have other questions about your various catchphrases, but I don’t think they’d let me print those in the pages of Pro Wrestling Illustrated. So, I’ll leave that alone, and, instead, I’ll focus on the shoe. What exactly is the significance of the shoe?

Storm: When one needs to defend oneself, one must utilize what one can get one’s hands on. And I've only ever had my shoes on me. Maybe I should invest in some kind of weaponry. But right now, the shoes seem to be doing the trick. 

[WATCH OUT FOR THE SHOW: “Timeless” Toni Storm is ever aware of the camera’s lens and can often be found breaking the fourth wall. But only a fool would dare mistake her eccentricity for weakness.]

Solomon: I would say they are, yes. I honestly never thought I’d be asking anyone this question in an interview, but do you think that maybe you might have been reincarnated? Or is it possible that you perhaps could have been born 100 years too late? Certainly, you seem more at home in the 1920s than in the 2020s.

Storm: You know, I would answer yes to that question. But the truth is, since I’m timeless, my concept of time is not a thing, if that makes sense.

Solomon: Not really, but go on.

Storm: What I mean to say is, I’m an essence. I’m a realm. I’m a mirage. I’m neither here nor there.

Solomon: Hmmm. While we’re on the subject of reincarnation, and flashbacks to a century ago, let’s talk about the short films you’ve been doing. And, by the way, I think they shouldn’t even be in picture-in-picture. They should be on the main part of the show, not during commercials. And I know a lot of people feel that way. But the films are silent, so I guess I understand …

Storm: Now you’re just babbling, darling. Do you have a question?

Solomon: Oh, yes. Do you think that All Elite Wrestling should switch the whole show being entirely done in black-and-white? And maybe silent? Or would you maybe not stand out as much if they did that?

Storm: To tell you the truth, I don't even know what you’re talking about or what you’re referring to. Everything is black-and-white to me. But I have heard about that fancy, newfangled Technicolor you’re talking about. It would be really nice one day to see AEW go live in Technicolor. I hear it’s going to be all  the rage.

Solomon: I have one more important question that I wanted to ask you, and this has to do with things that are even bigger than AEW. We know that a lot of people over the years, but especially these days, have kind of grown disillusioned with modern-day Hollywood. And you represent a timeless version of Hollywood that I think a lot of people are nostalgic for, or kind of miss in some ways–the glamor and the elegance. Could we ever expect to see “Timeless” Toni Storm bringing her timelessness, her elegance, her classic style to Hollywood itself?

Storm: What does that question even mean? What do you mean “bring my timelessness to Hollywood itself”? I’ve been in Hollywood my whole life. I’ve starred in a million movies, in all the major flicks. I’ve been a star my whole life, ever since childhood. I was born on set. Both of my parents were very famous actors, I create art, darling. And you will continue to see more and more pieces of art from me.

Solomon: I’m intrigued to learn of your being born on a movie set. I don’t think that fans are aware of that.That might be new information, broken right here in the pages of Pro Wrestling Illustrated. But didn’t you just tell me that you were never born, that you just exist?

Storm [waves in disgust]: Explain it however you like. Call it whatever you will. I was born into this business. I have been on movie sets my entire life. I am the very definition of Hollywood. All I have ever done is perform. I have performed so much my entire life that I can’t even remember my countless performances.

Solomon: Well, your performances certainly have been making an impression on audiences, as I said at the beginning of our conversation. You’re bringing back a certain something that’s been lost in the business.

Storm: I congratulate you on recognizing the obvious, yes. I just think we needed to bring that back, and that’s why I'm here. There’s been something missing from the business, from All Elite Wrestling. And I'm bringing a bit of the magic back, a bit of the art. It’s no wonder that audiences have been eating it up. I give them something to believe in. That’s what makes me stand out from the rest of the pack. And that’s what “Timeless” Toni Storm is all about. I would say that there should be even more of it–but then, of course, it wouldn’t stand out as much, would it?

[Ouch! Ms. Storm liberates the follicles from poor Skye Blue’s scalp. Tolerant of her “co-stars” until they stand in the path of her goals, Storm’s power ties in her ability to become ruthless at the drop of a hair curler.]

Solomon: No, it wouldn’t. That’s a great point, Ms. Storm. And you’re doing such an amazing job with it. I’m a huge fan.

Storm: as you should be. I appreciate all my fans and admirers. I definitely can’t say I blame them.

As with all brushes with greatness, there was only so much time to say all the things that I wanted to say, to ask all the questions that I wanted to ask. As the interview went on, it almost seemed like she was consumed deeper and deeper into this fantasy of her own making. I dared not challenge her too directly, as one never knows how someone in such a state might react. And far be it from me to shatter what's been so carefully constructed.

[“Now you’re just babbling darling. Do you have a question?”]

Eventually, the butler flashed me that pointed look that can only mean, “This interview is over now.” I politely thanked Ms. Storm and collected my things, thanking her for the gift of her precious time and excusing myself. After leaving the estate, I took one last wistful look back at the tarnished gables and overgrown landscaping that perfectly encapsulated the decadence that has overtaken the mind of Toni Storm. There is no point in debating the finer points of reality with someone like her. When all is said and done, reality is what you make it. And she has made her reality into something unforgettable and grand.

You might call it madness, but there is undeniably a method to it. Whether on the big screen or the same screen, “Timeless” Toni Storm is a big star. 

#Aew #all elite wrestling #Toni storm #timeless toni storm #pwi #pro wrestling illustrated

[java-lava]

Platonic! Kunikuzushi x Fem! Creator! Reader.

(So I know I said I wasn’t going to write anything for the next two weeks, but consider this a cheat post)

I’ve finally decided that when I start writing again (in two weeks) that along with the updates to my current series, and the requests I’ve gotten, that I’m going to turn my Sagau Drabble into a series! It will be called “Golden Constellations”. This one shot is not canon to my series, it’s kind of like an au to my series.

Platonic! Kunikuzushi x Fem! Creator! Reader.

“” means talking, **means thinking.

Also words in purple is Kunikuzushi talking and words in blue is (reader) talking.

Kunikuzushi didn’t know a lot yet (give him a break, he’s still a child) but he did know that the people of Teyvat, no matter which nation that they’re from, loved and admired the Creator. Everyone from the oldest adept and gods, to the children just learning to talk, sang praises of the creator of life in Teyvat. The Creator often roamed the world blessing people with her presence (and on occasion, these awesome things called visions). He had yet to meet her but if his friend’s thought she was amazing, then he did too! Even his own mother, who he knew first hand was hard to please, adored and respected the Creator.

After his friends turned him away, Kunikuzushi felt lost, he felt alone and completely unlovable. He didn’t understand why no one ever stayed with him, why everyone he loved eventually cast him aside.

Kunikuzushi POV;

*Is there something wrong with me? There must be, why else would everyone abandon me? What is it? Can I fix it? I don’t want to be alone forever!* Just when the thoughts were running through his head, he heard a voice singing, it sounded so heavenly that he followed it through the forest, to a water fall. Next to the waterfall was a beautiful lady, with majestic (h/t) (h/c) flowing behind her as she sang to a fox that was napping in her lap. He was stunned, he couldn’t look away. Suddenly the lady looked at him with enchanting (e/c) eyes and waved him to come closer. When he sat down next to her she smiled and started humming the song she had been singing. Overcome with curiosity, Kunikuzushi asked the woman her name, to which she giggled a little and said “(Reader), it’s nice too meet you Kunikuzushi!” He was stunned *how did she know my name?!?* after talking with her for a while he learned that she was the Creator, and she learned how lonely he was. “Come travel with me, be my traveling companion.” She suggested to the puppet, and he agreed.

Third person POV;

After the two became closer, Kunikuzushi revealed his backstory to her and she was LIVID. (Reader) was just about to go talk to (read beat the living daylights out of) the Raidan Shogun, but Kuni, as she now affectionately called him, begged her not to.

(Years later)

Kunikuzushi finally knew what it was like to be loved, he still couldn’t believe that the Creator herself had chose him to be her “son” as she calls him. His own creator, his first mother, abandoned him without care, but the creator of everything (including his first mother) loved him and called him hers. He couldn’t be happier! But just like all good things, this too must come to an end.

Kunikuzushi had noticed (Reader) getting tired more quickly, and she seemed to grow paler by the day. One day she asked him to take a walk with her, which wasn’t out of the ordinary so why did he have a sinking feeling in his stomach?…..

“Kuni, my son, my heart…. There is something I need to tell you…” she said solemnly

“What is it mother?”

“Well, there is good news, you are going to be a big brother! I’m pregnant!” She said with a weary smile

“Really?!? That’s amazing!” He said, even though he was slightly worried that if she had children of her own that she’d forget about him.

“But then, why do you seem sad?” He said, she knew her well enough to know that she was hiding something.

“Because having a child will take a large amount of my celestial energy, meaning I might lose my physical form until I can recharge my magic. Which means that I might have to leave for a little while.” She said

Kunikuzushi’s eyes widened, and it took all his strength to not start sobbing. He knew that there was something wrong with himself! Why else would she be leaving him?!? Kunikuzushi was on the verge of a panic attack, when (reader) rapped her hands around him and hugged him.

“I will always love you! And you will always be my son. I promise to find you again when I come back.” She said while rubbing circles on his back to calm him down.

“You promise?” He said through tears

“I promise.” She said

(Centuries later)

“Well, so we meet again….Mother…. .” he said, the sentence dripping with venom

“Hello my son. I’m here as promised” she said gently

That’s when her lunged at her.

A/n; Let me know if you want a part two for this!

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact self aware #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin x you #genshin impact sagau #traveler genshin impact #creator reader

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

As the winter days passed, Cassian began to feel a little more like himself - albeit much, much older. He didn't have any interest in any of the women at the colony; they were all either poor or ugly, in his view, but he did enjoy Maaike's company. She had fast become a friend, something he hadn't had for a long time, if ever.

"Spring soon, Cass. You lookin' forward t'goin' 'ome?" Maaike asked.

Cassian groaned, "I cannot wait to get out of this frozen hell, but I haven't exactly got much waiting for me when I get home."

"Aww, but it'll be lovely to see Henry."

Cassian shrugged, "I suppose. It'll be strange. He'll be a grown man now."

"Good - you'll need someone young and strong to take care of you when you get back. Yer grey hairs are doublin' by the day," said Maaike, grinning mischievously.

"Thanks and fuck you," Cassian smiled in return.

"I've never understood why people are so afraid of ageing. I think a few greys and wrinkles make a person look better... like they're... distinguished!"

"That's because you're still young. Your body hasn't started turning against you yet."

"Oh, stop with yer bellyachin'. You've got loads of life left ahead. Aye, you might even meet someone and get married again."

Cassian whistled, "The touch of a woman - now there's something I have missed dearly."

"Lots of girls like the silver fox look and you've still got the charm on yer - when yer not complainin'. I bet you'll meet a nice lady in no time."

"What about you? Why aren't you marrying off with one of these traders and setting up your own little plot of land?"

Maaike shook her head sadly, "Nah. I want ter go back to England too. This place ain't for me. I thought London was filled with death and disease, but this place makes London feel like bloody paradise of health."

"Fair enough. At least we'll have each other for company on the way back then."

"Nah, mate. I can't leave."

"What do you mean?"

Maaike sighed, "I can't afford the journey back. I'm up to me eyeballs in debt for the journey here and the building of this pub and I'm barely makin' ends meet. I'll be an elder, too, before I get to see England's shores again... if the place doesn't kill me off first."

Cassian frowned as if he couldn't understand the problem, "So? I'll pay off your debts and pay for your journey back."

Maaike laughed and wiped down the bar, assuming Cassian was making a joke - there was no way her pub's bum could afford to get them both back to England.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

Previous | Next

#great british sim challenge #sims 4 history challenge

[kaminocasey]

CASEY!! Congratulations on 700!! That’s incredible!! Your writing is amazing and you are so talented 💖 For your celebration, may I please request prompt #6 with my favorite boy Fox? 🥰🥰

Erin, my love. I'm sorry again this took like five months lmao. I hope you can forgive me! I hope you enjoy this, because let me tell you, domestic Fox is such a favorite of mine. Love him. 💖💖

Warnings: Smuty-ish. Sexual content. Insecure thoughts.

WC: 700+

“Do you think we’ll always be together?” You whisper into the quiet room as Fox runs his fingers up and down the bare skin of your back.

“Why would you ask such a thing?” His fingers suddenly stop.

You’re about to apologize, hoping you didn’t upset him, but he turns you over on your back, towering over you. You can’t help but swallow nervously.

“I don’t know…” You shrug, running your hand up into his curls.

Fox’s eyes close instinctively, leaning into your touch. 

“There must be a reason.” He chuckles. “What were you thinking about?” 

“I don’t know.” You lie again.

“Oh really?” He opens his eyes and they somehow seem darker as he travels down your body, nipping slightly as he goes, making you squirm. When he settles between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders, he smirks up at you. “Wanna try that again?”

The truth was that you saw all the women fawning over the commander earlier in the night as you’d walked into 79s. He hadn’t seen you, but you saw him. And the six different women who were doing their best to woo him. Obviously it didn’t work. But that rude little voice in the back of your head is always saying things like “When will Fox be done with you?” or “He could have any woman in that bar, why would he choose you?” and you hated it. You normally weren’t so insecure…

“I…” You struggle as his warm breath settles over your own warmth. 

“Tell me and I’ll reward you, cyar’ika.” He purrs. 

A soft whimper escapes your lips as your fingers make their way to his curls again. “I-it’s stupid…”

“I don’t care.” He runs his tongue up your folds, just teasing you, before pulling his mouth away again. “Tell me.”

It’s a demand, and you know it. You never could say no to him. From the moment you’d met him, you’d hardly ever said no. And it was the same way for him. Everything you asked, he answered. Everything you asked for, he gave it to you.

“Please, cyar’ika…” He whispers, softly.

“I… I don’t want this to ever end.” You murmur, sliding your hand from his hair to his warm cheek. “I don’t want us to end.” 

“Oh, pretty girl… that’s what you're worried about?” He looks up at you, resting his cheek against your thigh.

You nod. “I see the way those women all look at you and I wouldn’t blame you if you chose someone… better.”

He sits up right then, pulling you up with him. “Listen to me, and listen to me good. You are the only person I want. I will always choose you. Understand?” 

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves to the head of the bed, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling his lap. 

“I know I’ve not said this before… but please believe me when I say it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d tear apart the entire galaxy before I let you slip away from me.” He tells you, fiercely, cupping your cheeks so that you’re forced to look at him. “I’m fucking in love with you and one day, after this stupid fucking war is over, I’m taking you somewhere safe and I’ll continue to give you everything. I’ll continue to give you myself. As long as you’ll have me.”

As words start to fail you and a lump starts to form in your throat, you crush your lips to his, fervently. His hands run up your back again and hold you against him as he flips you over on your back, kissing you harder, with more need. 

When his lips move to your neck, you let out a soft needy gasp. “I love you.” 

You believe every word he’s just told you and you know that he truly would rip apart the entire galaxy just for you. There’s not one doubt in your mind that you would do the same for him.

“Say it again.” He pulls away to look at you, grinning widely, watching your lips.

“I love you, Fox.” You promise him.

As he kisses you again, you think you feel that stupid little insecure voice finally fade away for good.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms

#kc700 #kc700 celebration #tcw fox x reader #commander fox #commander fox x reader

[stormysapphic]

Do you have any posts on how a femme can take care of their butch? Thank you 💗

hii❣ well, this might seem a bit obvious - and i'll get to actual suggestions in a bit, dw - but i'd just like to start by saying that butch/femme interactions and "taking care of" one another in a butch/femme relationship can look very different for different people! for example, one thing that almost always comes up when discussing what femmes give to butches is recognition - being seen and loved as themselves in a society that does not in general appreciate or even acknowledge the existence of female/lesbian masculinity* such as butchness. but even something as apparently universal as that can manifest in almost opposite-seeming ways in different butch/femme relationships! for one butch, the most affirming thing a femme can do is calling them handsome and strong & letting them express chivalry or other behaviours society sees as being "only for men". for another butch, their femme cuddling them at the end of a long day & calling them cute and sweet and a teddy bear & drawing them a pink bubble bath without questioning their identity is what makes them feel seen in a world where butches are often expected to be tough and hardened and on their guard. and i think that that diversity of expression & how we communicate our specific needs to each other & craft our own lives is really beautiful! anyway, you probably are already aware of all that & are just looking for some inspiration. 💕 for me, that usually comes in the form of butch/femme writings old and new - things that capture the spirit of butch/femme for me, even when the specifics of each relationship are up to the people involved. 💞 so here are some quotes and a couple of longer texts! 💗lesbiandomesticity and considerate-butch on the aforementioned importance of femmes seeing and loving butches as they are 💗ivan coyote on a moment when a femme's recognition made things fall into place for their baby butch self 💗leslie feinberg on protecting and being protected by a femme lover (references queerphobic violence) 💗sillyfxmme on how butches and femmes belong together 💗amy fox on how femmes helped her (as a trans woman) and other butches find their butchness and feel comfortable in it (contains the t slur reclaimed) 💗susan kane's (a femme) poem on how they love butches 💗lesbianjadzia on historical the role of femmes in protecting butches and the community at large from police brutality/queerphobic violence (references queerphobic violence) 💗merril mushroom's humorous essay describing butch/femme courting rituals in the 1950s also! i'd love nothing more than for butches in butch/femme relationships - or dreaming of them - to reply to this with things their femmes do that they (would) love! (*not all butches relate to words such as "masculine" or "masculinity", but i'm using that as a shorthand here. hope everyone understands what i'm trying to say!)

#Anonymous #answered

[macatt4c]

streamer au let's GOOOO

shoutout to @looneyzune for inspiring this fic and to @majimasleftasscheek for having an amazing server where this amazing au developed!

Raids and Races

Rating: General Audience

Relationship: Kiryu Kazuma & Original Female Character

Tags: One Shot, Streamer!Kiryu, Fluff

Word Count: 1,745

-> [AO3 LINK] <-

It was rare for InariHimari to be live on a Saturday. When the channel was first created, the creator only streamed on Sundays since that was the only day off she had between her weekday job as a hotel concierge and her Saturday gig as a cabaret club hostess. For five years, she worked herself to the bone and only found solace and relaxation in the low-key ‘studying’ streams she did at first. Even now, barely a month since she officially retired from both jobs and became a full-time streamer, she still didn’t go live on what can arguably be considered the best day of the week to livestream. Weeknights full of games and Sunday study sessions, but nothing on Saturdays.

And yet here was Himari sitting at her gaming setup with her LED fox-eared headphones and streaming for the approximately two hundred people that made up her audience. It was microscopic compared to the Twitch powerhouses advertised on the website’s front page, but Himari didn’t care. This was her crowd, her people, perhaps even her friends. Individuals who took precious time out of their lives to spend up to multiple hours with her just because they found her entertaining. She would forever be grateful to all of them and can only strive to get better at this so that they can be proud of her.

“Alright!” Himari said with a quick clap of her hands. “I want to try a new game to spice things up here. Do you guys have any suggestions?”

Almost instantly, the chat flooded with game suggestions. Himari had to lean in to read each title as it crawled up the screen. A majority of them seemed to be games that have just been released, which meant they would cost a pretty penny.

“Let me rephrase that.” Himari chuckled. “Do you guys have any cheap game suggestions? Not trying to go broke over a game I may or may not like.”

Her clarification made the suggestions slow down (most-likely due to viewers searching for potential titles to fit the criteria) until the chat was back to its low-speed scroll. It wasn’t long until one message from one of the channel moderators caught Himari’s eye:

cosmomemory: You should play Pocket Circuit LIVE! cosmomemory: It’s free and all you need is an online account to play

“’Pocket Circuit LIVE’?” A low whistle followed as she leaned back in her chair. “I remember when those little cars were popular back in the eighties. Damn. Now I feel old.”

The chat erupted in shocked and angry-looking emojis, along with a plethora of messages:

fanguu: EXCUSE ME???? brahkest: ma’am you are FORTY looneyzune: HIMARI FORTY ISNT OLD tabbitha44: i know this woman did not just say she was old baybee_bat: boo kokokub: oh no better get granny hima to a nursing home

Himari couldn’t help but laugh at the response. “Alright, alright. I take it back. It just makes me feel slightly older than I really am.”

brahkest: yeah thats what we thought looneyzune: THIN ICE HIMA! tabbitha44: >:(

Another chuckle escaped the streamer before she finally looked up Pocket Circuit LIVE. It took about twenty minutes in total for her to make a new account and download the game to her computer before finally booting it up.

“Oh wow!” Himari gawked at the vibrant colors of the menu screen. “This is really starting to remind me of the original toys…”

It wasn’t much longer until she was officially starting the game. The tutorial was easy enough to understand, but once she really started getting into the races with other online users, the true complexity made itself known. The embarrassment of losing her first four races on the easiest speed setting had very much sank in by the time Himari looked over at chat.

1000014: oh my aquaortus: oh no hima baybee_bat: you can do this himari! keep going! brahkest: yeeeeeesh looneyzune: :o deerstalker28: regret suggesting this game yet @ cosmomemory ? cosmomemory: @ fanguu haven’t decided yet lol

Himari didn’t have to look at her face-cam to know her face was a sheepish red. You’d think someone who’s been somewhat playing games professionally for five years now would at least figure out how to play a game as simple as Pocket Circuit LIVE, right? This was a game mostly played by kids! How could she of all people not get it?

After a couple more seconds of reading the mix of supportive and teasing messages in the chat, Himari took a deep breath and sat up straight.

“Alright,” She said, giving her face-cam her best confident smile. “I’ll try one more race. If I lose again, we’ll just cut our losses and play something else. Deal?”

Just then, a chime played through her headset’s speakers just as a pop-up message appeared on the screen layover at the same time as an identical message appeared in the chat:

JudgementKazzy has raided you with a party of 243 viewers!

Himari’s somewhat-false confidence melted away as a rush of shock flooded her and her eyes widened at the notification. She sat there frozen for what felt like a while before slowly blinking her eyes.

“That’s not…” Her voice trailed off as she swallowed. “That’s not real, is it?”

Just to be sure, she glanced at the chat.

brahkest: WHAT looneyzune: HYLDJGOFD looneyzune: HI UNCLE KAZ!!!! fanguu: WHAT IS UNCLE KAZ DOING HERE?!?!? cosmomemory: I LOOK AWAY FOR TWO SECONDS AND cosmomemory: UNCLE KAZ SHOWS UP????? aquaortus: lmfao he sensed the pocket circuit baybee_bat: omfg hi new people!!

“Holy shit.” Himari blurted out before holding a hand over her mouth, still very much in shock and/or disbelief as the chat continued to unravel.

fishki_nyama: Good evening, Hima-chan! ;) brahkest: NISHIKI!!! fanguu: HOW THE FRICK IS NISHIKI HERE??? looneyzune: IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING? looneyzune: ARE WE ACTUALLY WITNESSING THIS?? brahkest: APPARENTLY cosmomemory: N I S H I K I ? ? cosmomemory: himari you gotta win now deerstalker28: watch shes gonna win five in a row now that the king of pocket circuit is here aquaortus: @ deerstalker28 lol we can only hope

That was as much of her regulars’ messages Himari could read before the chat got flooded with greetings and emoji spams from the new viewers. She was still barely wrapping her head around the sudden raid from one of her favorite streamers of all time. Was Kazuma Kiryu really watching her stream right now? Did he actually bring his viewers to watch her?

What do you mean he knows she exists?

“Oh, wow.” Himari managed to say before attempting to clear her throat. “Hey there, newcomers. I’m… Geez, this has really took me off guard.” She let out a breathy awkward chuckle. “Erm… Okay so, hi. I’m InariHimari, but you can call me Himari or just Hima. I… damn, this is really throwing me for a loop! I’m honestly speechless, I can barely introduce myself.”

As if on cue, another chime played and Himari looked to see a different pop-up:

JudgementKazzy has donated $10.00!

“What the-“

“I heard you were trying out Pocket Circuit LIVE for the first time.” The automated voice of the Text-To-Speech played out over the stream audio. “My chatroom and I wanted to come and show our support.”

If Himari’s face wasn’t red from the embarrassment of the earlier losses, the fact that her favorite streamer is not only in her audience right now but has also donated ten dollars to show support was more than enough to turn her face as bright red as a tomato. She could only stare wide-eyed at her computer monitor (which was still displaying the post-match summary screen from the race she lost ten minutes ago) while chat continued to go wild over what was unfolding in real time. Thankfully, she was able to snap out of it in time to see a few new messages appear in chat:

JudgementKazzy: In order to win a race, you might want to customize your racer with the best components for the race you plan on doing. JudgementKazzy: Body, wheels, etc. JudgementKazzy: It might not seem like it, but these really do affect the outcome if you are new to the game. JudgementKazzy: As you currently are ;)

Himari would have blushed at the playfulness that last message seemed to imply had her face not already been so flushed already. Instead, she cleared her throat and adjusted her posture for the second time that night.

“Alright, then.” She said, placing her hand on her mouse and clicking off the summary screen to open a new race.

Through the delayed speed of the stream’s chat, Kiryu gave simple and helpful advice as Himari took baby steps in customizing her car. It was ridiculous to an extent, a grown woman playing an online racing game while being instructed by a man the same age as to how to best customize the digital car in order to win the digital race. But who cared? She was having fun and so was her audience! Wasn’t that what streaming was all about?

And besides, if this was the only way for her to interact with her favorite creator, she was gonna do whatever she could to make it last as long as she possibly could.

Sure enough, taking Kiryu’s advice paid off as Himari won the next five consecutive races, earning herself a few gatcha pulls that in turn won her a few rare items that would make her race better in the future.

“Sweet!” Himari pumped her fist in the air. “That was really fun. I can see how people can get real addicted to games like this.” She then turned to look at the chat. “I think now’s a great place to stop for now. Don’t wanna get too lost into it, you know?”

Sure enough, there was a few messages from Kiryu a few moments later:

JudgementKazzy: You did great, Himari. You’re picking up on it really quick. JudgmentKazzy: Hopefully I’ll be able to tune in for your next Pocket Circuit stream?

Himari grinned at Kiryu’s messages. “That… That would be awesome, Kiryu. You’re always welcomed here with me and my chat. Hope you have a great night!”

JudgementKazzy: Same to you! Have a great stream! JudgementKazzy: :)

And with that, Himari logged off of Pocket Circuit LIVE for the night and moved on to play a visual novel another chat member recommended.

But the whole time, she couldn’t get rid of the lingering feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

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