#read aloud black arts

[sungbeam]

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧

nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)

turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.

3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food

a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))

It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stifling hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.

You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.

“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.

Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—

“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.

The cat meowed an innocent greeting.

You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.

Oh. Well, that would explain it.

You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”

Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.

The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.

Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.

“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.

“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.

About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.

Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.

When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.

There was a pretty man at your door.

You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’

As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.

You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.

It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.

You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.

The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”

“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.

Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.

“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.

He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”

You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”

“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.

Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”

“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”

“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.

“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”

You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.

He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”

“No worries! Have a nice night.”

“You too!”

San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.

And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.

Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.

San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.

By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.

“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”

You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.

You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”

“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.

He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.

The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”

“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”

“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”

What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.

Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.

Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.

Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)

“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.

He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”

Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.

“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”

“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.

You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.

“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”

“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”

He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”

You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”

San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”

Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”

The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”

When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.

The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.

You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.

San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”

Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”

“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”

For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”

Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.

San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”

You hummed. “What about it?”

“Are you doing anything?”

You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.

And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”

You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”

And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…

“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”

Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.

He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”

It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.

There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.

He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”

“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”

You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”

“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”

There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.

San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.

You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.

“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”

You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.

His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”

“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.

“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”

You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.

“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.

“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”

He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”

You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.

As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.

“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.

The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”

His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

#kflixnet #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios #choi san drabble #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot #choi san oneshot #ateez fanfic

[starrgaziinggg]

all I need is you

Hyunjin x reader, established relationship, fluff

-> 1.4k words

You almost don't notice the space beside you being filled. It had been hours, just staring at the city below you as the wind forced goosebumps to rise on your arms. Being alone had never bothered you much until today. Watching groups of friends gossiping around campus on your first day back only fuelled your desire to have a friend group of your own.

Girls you could talk about anything with. Guys that teased you lovingly. A firm body of people around you. It wasn't as though you'd never had friends, it was more so you couldn't find the place you naturally fit in. You were never any good at long term friendships, finding the forced nature of them disconcerting.

Hyunjin drops a hoodie on your lap before nestling in beside you, the make shift outdoor sofa you'd created one bored night being the only source of comfort on your rooftop. Until Hyunjin, of course. His warm aura brings you comfort even on your darkest days.

"Figured you'd be freezing to death up here," he chuckles, grabbing both of your hands in his to warm them. His freshly dyed black hair (a shame to you, since you'd loved the red, but his boss did not) blows into his face as he turns to give you a lopsided grin.

It's almost comical how at ease you feel now he's by your side, your feelings of loneliness evaporating almost instantly. He was a stroke of luck, Hyunjin, seemingly finding you when you needed him most. An art student, working long shifts in a local cafe to get by, who'd become a recluse voluntarily.

The bookstore you'd first met in was always desolate. You'd no idea how the small gem managed to stay afloat, since you were almost always the only person that bothered to give it time. It was one of your favourite places, the sole owner knowing you by name.

Six chapters into rereading your favourite book and there he was, nudging your foot with his as he flopped onto the beanbag beside you.

"Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami," he read aloud, tilting his head at you inquisitively. "Any good?"

A couple seconds after the shock of a gorgeous man interrupting your evening routine, you nod slowly.

"It's my favourite," you had replied in a small voice, confused as to why this god crafted human being was in a run down bookshop behind your apartment block, and why he was giving you the time of day.

"Tell me about it," he's said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, patiently waiting.

So you delved into a ramble about the basis of the book and why it meant so much to you, the premise of morality and why people do the things they do. And the whole time Hyunjin, as you'd come to discover his name, sat listening intently, nodding along without interrupting once.

When you'd concluded, realising you had been speaking much longer than you probably should have been, he raised his eyebrows.

"You know, I was never any good at English in school. I slept through every book analysis my dull ass English teacher ever attempted. And, I actually only came in here because it's one of the only stores in the area that has this art book I need, but I could probably listen to you talk about how to tie my own shoelaces and still be entranced."

The shellshock of Hyunjin's immediate interest in you took weeks to dissipate. You'd talked until the owner of the bookstore told you (lovingly) to beat it, and then some. The next day, you'd completed your summer university coursework in the cafe he worked at until his shift finished and then walked aimlessly around the area, never running out of topics to discuss.

And that was that. Within months you knew everything about each other. He took you to his favourite museum one day, explaining the intricacies behind every painting, and all you could do was watch him in awe. He walked you home, told you you were his favourite person in the universe, and kissed you because he meant it.

You'd never thought of yourself as a lucky person, but in that moment it was as though all your good karma had willed itself into existence.

"What's going on inside that head, pretty?" He says now, tilting your head up with his finger to meet his gaze.

"Nothing majorly substantial," you reply lazily, kissing his nose lightly and making him laugh. You tug on the jumper he'd brought you, a thick hoodie he'd bought recently, as he pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Every thought you have is substantial," he says matter-of-factly, turning back to look at the view. The city noises dulled as he spoke, car horns and music white noise in the distance. "Even the ones about cats and why they're better than dogs."

"They are," you glare at him, which he just rolls his eyes at. You sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying his company as he traces circles on your bare legs absentmindedly. "How was your shift today?"

"Same old," he replies, pulling a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should come in after your classes tomorrow, sit with me behind the counter."

"You're lucky your boss likes you," you chuckle, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "I'm there every other day."

"Chan doesn't care," Hyunjin assures with a smile. "He likes you. He actually invited you along to our work night out next weekend."

"He did?" You ask, your attention piquing.

Hyunjin hums in response. "Yeah, but it will be a whole lot of Riki terrorising everyone and risking getting himself fired," he laughs. "That kid is a menace."

"Do you want me to come?" You ask sincerely, doe eyes blinking up at the man you were wholeheartedly in love with. He looks back at you with such adoration your heart physically swells in your chest.

"Of course," he answers instantly, his brows furrowed. "Everyone I work with probably likes you more than they like me. In fact, they've stated it more than once. Plus, I'd get to show off my pretty girlfriend, and I need you for morale support against Riki."

The grin appears of your face quicker than lightening as you nestle your head into Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life, you know," you mumble. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

You feel Hyunjin shake his head above you, before reaching for your face with both hands and making you stare at him.

"You're perfect, love," he smiles, rubbing his thumb against your cold cheek. "You can be a stubborn thing, but I love you for it. If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd understand why I'm so infatuated with you."

You can't help but to roll your eyes, a natural instinct to any compliment you receive. He shakes you gently as you laugh, as if attempting to rid you of all your negative thoughts.

"Now, get your ass inside your apartment. It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shattered," he groans, standing up and pulling you along with him.

"You're staying over?" You ask excitedly, knowing he was going to classes early in the morning.

"Duh," he says sassily, leading you through the fire escape after intertwining your hand with his own. "I missed you like crazy at work today. Chan's new no phone rule is kicking my ass and I need a cuddle."

You laugh, following him down the stairs in your apartment building like a puppy. "You're cute today."

"I'm cute everyday," he counters, turning to tilt his head at you. You stop for a second, just staring down at him.

"I love you, you know?" You say, as if he's not already aware of how deep your feelings run for him. He just grins back at you, tugging you down the stairs and into his embrace.

“I love you too, angel,” he replies whilst wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Maybe you would never have the amount of friends you’d always desired. Maybe those deep rooted feelings of loneliness would never fully dissipate. But with Hyunjin by your side, you felt as though you didn’t need anything more.

I wrote this last night and wasn’t going to post it but I think it’s cute so here you go :) sorry for the inactivity, I am swamped rn but I’m trying my best!

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin comfort #stray kids imagines

[jesterlesbian]

From Ron Nyswaner (show creator and writer for Fellow Travelers)

"The AIDS Quilt. I'd been to the quilt in the 90s; had attached the quilt square of someone I loved; was privileged to be asked to read aloud several of the names of those we'd lost. We wanted to be as accurate as possible in depicting the AIDS Quilt display in 1987 and were thrilled when the NAMES Project Foundation offered to lend us some sections of the real quilt for our series finale, including Roy Cohn's real square! They arrived carefully crated with instructions on how to handle -- as sacred objects. The Art Dept. and I had many conversations about Tim's square. I knew I wanted the words "Beyond Measure" - because that's how Tim loved, and the fish symbol for Christianity, the faith that sustained Tim throughout his life. The Art Dept. crew came up with making the square from Tim's actual wardrobe and the quilt that had been lying on his bed on the set. Brilliant. Some of the squares we made for the show didn't have names. So I asked them to put Tomas's name on this one. He was a young man I'd been in love with many years ago. He died at the age of 28, not from AIDS, but from the meth addiction we'd shared. I wrote a book about him (Blue Days Black Nights - we're hoping to get it reprinted soon). He was one of a kind. Richard Doran (on the square behind) was the best friend of a good friend of mine who died too young of AIDS in the 90s."

#fellow travelers #tv: fellow travelers #go read the whole post he wrote about the finale. it's very moving

[boozenboze]

Merc With A Mouth Meets Sexy Men

Tf 141 x Deadpool!Male reader

Summary: Watch as the the Task Force captures yours truly and gets me the join them. Damn that Captain has some rizz in him.

Disclaimer- There will be dialogue from the movies and comics

Females She/Her and She/They DNI

M/n was seated on the highway railing while doing some art. He kicked his legs back and forth, he looked like a child.

"Hey I don't look like a child!" The male said while turning his attention the

"Oh.. .Oh well hello! I know right, who’s balls did I have to fondle to be here?” M/n said as he chuckled.

"Can’t say it, but.....it does rhyme with polverine.” I said as I look back over at the traffic.

“I do at the moment have places to be, a face to fix, and oooooh!” I said as I looked at the oncoming vehicle. “Bad guys to kill!” The man in red in black said as he stood.

“Maximum effort!” The masked male said as he jumped off the railing and into the sun roof of the car. Off the bat one guy tried to shoot him but I headbutted him. I grabbed his face and slammed it into the window behind him. My boot collided with the guy in the fronts face.

“Cock shot!” I said as I hit another guy in the balls. I threw one of the guys out of the trunk and I heard him screaming, funny. I leaned to the front and I pulled out a piece of paper, as he turned to face me as I said.

“Have you seen this man.” The photo contained a beautiful drawing by yours truly. The guy grabbed my head before slamming it into the radio.

“Ow...ow....ow”

“Ok time to cause some trouble.” I muttered to myself as I grabbed the guys wrist

(Pov switch)

“A little bit further.” Price instructed as the team made their way down the highway. The ride had been going smoothly, but the traffic build up only made the eldest a bit frustrated.

"What the hell..." Gaz said as he looked up at a car go up in the air, a motorcyclists being given a wedgie. It felt like time slowed as the others looked with wide eyes. The cars ahead of them swerved in order to not be part of the accident. Gaz did the same thing for the same reason and Ghost grunted. The four of them got out the car and watched as the men in black who were still standing pointed their guns at a car.

"What the hell is goin on here?" Soap asked as someone popped their head out of the car.

"Hey!" The voice said as the man said as he immediately had gunshots thrown at him.

"Wait-hold up, you may be wondering why the red suit. Well thats so bad guys don't see me bleed." The man explained as Gaz couldn't help but chuckle at the comment.

"That guys got the right idea, he wore the brown pants!" The man pointed at the man in question which led to more gunfire.

"Ok-fine! I only have 12 bullets so your gonna have to share!." Price grabbed his gun in case things got worse.

"Hold on didn't Laswell say that there was a guy that we had to look for." Gaz asked as Price ducked under a car due to the bullets being sent towards them. Price pulled out the small paper that Laswell had given them which had a short description on the guy they've been looking for.

"M/n L/n...ex Special Forces and dishonorable discharge." Price read aloud as the others gave each other a look. Soap looked at the paper that had a small picture of what the man looked like, well it wasn't a picture of his face but it was what he wore. The same man that was currently wreaking havoc was the guy that they had been sent to look for....Again

“We’re seriously being sent after this this prick again.” Soap muttered to himself, disappointed that they were going after the same guy.

The bridge was silent at this point as the mans voice boomed threw the silence.

"Oh Francis!~" The man said happily as he bumped the car door with his hip as he skipped over to the man who had a katana lodged into his shoulder. The male flicked the grip on the blade and watched it wiggle.

"Now i'm about to show you what did to music in the late 90’s” I reeled my arm back but my hand touched something hard. I touched around it before realizing.

“Dad?” I asked only for whover this giant was to lift me up and throw me over his shoulder.

“Well this isn’t the family reunion I hoped for.” I said teasingly as I eyed the two buns that were in my face. My intrusive thoughts are telling me to just.

“Hehe. Nice ass you got there buddy, seems like somebody’s been doing their squats.” I said as the man grunted before he begsn walking.

“H-hey! What are you doing I need answers from him.” I said while pointing at the man who fucked up my face.

“Shut up your annoying.” The big guy told me with a....British accent. Thats hot. Damnit Francis gonna get away now i’ll have to get another plan.

Timeskip

Thud

Thud

Thud

“Can you stop!” Price yelled, getting tired of the mercs constant headbanging on the table. The man in red and black squinted at the older man before sighing dramatically.

“Come on sugar you’re boring me here. Can’t we do something fun.” I asked as the man huffed at my comment.

“Hey, you and your guys are the ones who chose to take me... again....you can’t get mad at me.” I said defensive as the man sighed. Price looked at me with a deadpanned expression.

“M/n....we’ve come up with a proposal. Join the Task Force, it would be good for you.” Price said to me as I sighed out of boredom. Can this dilf stop with this same dialogue. At this rate his voice is gonna break me!

“How many times are you gonna tell me this! Seriously just give up already.” I complained as Price leaned in and stared at me. Is he trying to make me cum from staring into my soul...kinky.

“Listen, I believe you this job is fit for you because, well.....your you.” Well ain’t that nice of him to say.

“Ok.... I still don’t believe i’m "Task Force" material but...what am I getting out of this.” I asked while putting on my ‘thinking face’. The other man sighed while running a hand through his hair.

“We’ll help you find a cure for your face and we’ll give you a high rank.” Price said thinking that would make me agree.

“And....?”

“We’ll all take you on a date-”

“Deal!”

Side note-There will be another part or 2

#male y/n #cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #male reader #ghost x male reader #mw2 x male reader #captain price x male reader #soap x male reader #lgbtq #gay

[fantasyescapes17]

Wings (Part 4)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU. You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: Discussions of social anxiety, one f-bomb (yes shy Miss Yoon drops an f-bomb sue me) smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

Confessing to your sister-in-law that you were in love with Mr. Kim Mingyu somehow made your feelings for him seem more real than ever. It was as though saying the words aloud had allowed the true extent of your affection for him to finally come out of hiding. 

The idea of confessing your love to him did not come without apprehension. But the clock was ticking and you had no other viable option. You were in danger of losing Mr. Kim in any case; if you were silent and married someone else, it would still be the end of your friendship as you knew it. Once married, it would be unseemly to maintain even a close friendship with a gentleman who was not your husband. 

So you had no choice. 

You had to show him your heart and hope for the best. 

The opening of Mr. Kim’s art gallery was a spectacular event at which no expense had been spared. You entered the new building and immediately saw all the most elite members of the ton gathered in one place. The Viscount and Viscountess Hong and even the Duke and Duchess of Graham had turned up for Mr. Kim’s opening. You were impressed by Mr. Kim’s prowess in being able to gather all these high-ranking members of the ton for his grand opening.

Your mother insisted on accompanying you to the event. She was not very pleased with Mr. Kim (‘If he was seriously courting you, he should have proposed by now! What can he be waiting for?’ she often complained) but even her displeasure would not cause her to absent herself from one of the season’s most awaited events. She forced you to stay near her as you walked around to admire the displayed paintings and sculptures. Your mother's eyes, however, were on the people and not the paintings.

“If Mr. Kim is not going to propose, then I think you must focus your attention on Baron Wright instead,” your mother hissed in your ear as you tried to admire a large painting of a young woman. “The season is coming to an end. This is the ideal time for a proposal.” 

You said nothing. 

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, mother. Isn’t this portrait quite lovely? I love how the artist has captured the sheer quality of the lace on her gown,” you said. There was no arguing with your mother when it came to Baron Wright. You had no option but to try to turn her attention away from him. 

“Yes, yes,” your mother mumbled, barely glancing at the painting. “Ah! I see Mrs. Patty! I must ask her whether she has seen Baron Wright of late, I am so worried that he shall leave London without saying a word to us…” 

You were relieved when she hurried away, leaving you behind. You slipped through the crowd in search of Mr. Kim. He was not difficult to find. He was surrounded by a group of people who were congratulating him on the successful gallery opening. Of course. He was the star of tonight's event. 

Mr. Kim stood tall, in a particularly dashing black suit that you had never seen him wear before. He was handsome; you were not noticing that for the first time but it was the first time you allowed yourself to fully acknowledge the warmth and happiness that exploded inside of you at the sight of his smile. 

He looked up. His twinkling eyes met yours and his smile widened. You waited patiently until he excused himself from the conversation and strode towards you confidently. 

"And what is little Miss Yoon doing here all alone?" Mr. Kim asked with a playful grin as he offered you his arm. 

"I managed to slip away from my mother," you told him. You took his arm. "But never mind her. This gallery is beautiful. I never knew you had such taste for art, Mr. Kim."

Your compliments seemed to please him. He grinned down at you. "I told you I was a patron of the arts. This is nothing. My private collection at home is much more selective and exquisite."

"I should love to see it someday," you said lightly. 

"And it would be my pleasure to show it to you," he answered smoothly. "There are a few pieces here tonight that I think you might enjoy. May I?"

"Lead the way."

You found nothing more enjoyable than allowing Mr. Kim to lead you around the room and show you his favourite artwork. Some of the paintings had stories behind them- others were simply visual masterpieces. You saw portraits of kings and paintings of forests and vast landscapes. 

"This one is a particular favourite of mine," Mr. Kim said as he paused in front of a beautiful oil painting of a small grey bird inside a cage. The cage door was open; another brightly coloured bird with enormous feathers and large wings was hovering near the cage door as though coaxing the grey bird to come out. 

You stared at it for a long moment. 

"It's beautiful," you whispered. 

"I think the colourful bird can't understand why the grey bird chooses to sit in the cage," Mr. Kim said thoughtfully. 

"But his wing is broken."

"What?"

You stepped closer to the small painting and gestured towards the grey bird's wings. The wings were tucked close to the bird's body but upon closer inspection, one of them was angled differently from the other. 

"I don't think the grey one can fly," you said quietly. "So for him, the cage is safe and not a trap."

Mr. Kim was silent for a long moment. "I hadn't noticed that," he admitted. "Clearly you are more observant than I am. I thought it was a lesson on spreading your wings and taking risks."

"Or perhaps it is a lesson on communication," you suggested. 

"Or perhaps the artist simply drew a pair of birds and we are projecting our interpretations of deeper meaning onto them," he continued with a chuckle. "Well; there concludes our tour of the art gallery."

You frowned. "We have not seen that hallway yet."

Mr. Kim rubbed the back of his neck and suddenly looked rather sheepish. "Perhaps we had better not tour that one together."

"Why not?"

"It is not… appropriate."

"What could be inappropriate about some paintings?" you demanded. You turned towards the hallway before Mr. Kim could stop you and paused at the first painting. You realised your mistake immediately. This was an enormous nude portrait of a woman looking out of a window wearing a scrap of silk that covered none of her intimate parts. 

"O-oh," you said quickly. 

Mr. Kim cleared his throat behind you. "I told you it was inappropriate."

You took a deep breath. "I-I have seen paintings such as these before," you tried to say smoothly. You turned around to see that Mr. Kim was biting back a smile as he looked at you. "It is… it is merely art."

"Indeed," he said, the corners of his lips twitching as they upwards. "Art."

Your embarrassment was becoming more difficult to conceal. "The-the human form is a commonly chosen subject for artists, and of course among polite adults there is nothing to be ashamed of and-are you laughing at me?"

Mr. Kim could not control his laughter. He gently but firmly steered you away from the hallway of nude paintings, laughing all the while as you scolded him for ridiculing you. 

"You are too innocent, Miss Yoon," Mr. Kim told you once he was able to stop laughing. "I will not allow your corruption to be on my conscience."

You frowned. "I am a lady."

"Yes, and I am a gentleman who will not encourage you to do things which are not ladylike," he replied. 

"It is a bit late for that," you mumbled. You lowered your voice and leaned a little closer to him. "You have been so busy with the gallery that I have not seen you in over a week and I am simply dying for a smoke. Jeonghan keeps his cigars locked up in his study."

Mr. Kim's eyes twinkled as he looked down at you. "Is this what my position in your life has been reduced to? I thought perhaps we were friends but it appears I am little more than your cigar supplier."

"You can be both," you replied. "Do you have one or not?" 

He lowered his voice. "Of course, I have one. Go back through that door- there are some storerooms there. I will join you in a few moments."

You followed his instructions and slipped through the door that Mr. Kim had pointed out. You trusted him implicitly; in all the clandestine smoking sessions that you had indulged in with Mr. Kim you had never gotten close to being caught by another soul. 

But this evening was far more than your usual little smoke and chat. 

This evening you would finally tell him you loved him. 

The storeroom was a small dusty room filled with large easels and paintings that had white cloths thrown over them to protect them from the elements. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves as you waited impatiently for Mr. Kim. The door opened a few moments later and he entered with a smile. 

"I have your cigar," he said, holding it up. "We must be quick; I have guests waiting to speak to me outside so we only have time for one."

You glanced at the cigar in his hand. "What is that?"

"Your cigar, my lady."

"Don't you have any of the Cuban ones?"

Mr. Kim's mouth dropped open in mock offence. "The Cuban ones? What; do local cigars offend my lady's sensibilities? Does your delicate constitution only permit you to smoke imported cigars?"

"Yes," you replied with a smile. "Hand over the Cubans."

"I will not. I have spent enough money on your cigar habit already. I may have to start selling my paintings en masse if I am to continue to purchase foreign cigars for you at this rate."

"Hand over the Cubans, Mr. Kim."

"I do not have any."

You made a sudden and bold move- one that you did not pause to think through, or else you would never have dared to do it. You stepped closer to Mr. Kim so that you were right in front of him. He looked startled but did not move away. His warm, familiar scent enveloped you and you could hear his heavy breathing. 

"What are you doing, Miss Yoon?" he asked quietly. 

"Looking for Cubans."

You placed your hands on the lapels of his suit and slowly slid them down. Mr. Kim watched you silently as your fingers undid his coat buttons- first one, and then the other. Then you slid your hand into his coat and reached for his inner pocket. 

Mr. Kim stared down at you. His eyes were dark and lidded as your hands delicately brushed his torso and felt for his inner jacket pocket. Your hand finally stilled; fingers brushing the cigars. 

"Found them," you whispered. Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You liar."

There was a brief moment of silence. Mr. Kim's eyes had an almost wild sort of hunger that you had never seen in them before. It sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. You were inches away from him. Nothing about this situation was appropriate- the two of you in this storeroom nor the cigars. 

But this closeness… the look in his eyes…

This was beyond mere social inappropriateness. Your hand on Mr. Kim's chest and his heavy breathing as he stared down at you made one thing quite clear. The delicate line that you had been dancing around for months had just been crossed. 

It was not a blatant violation. There was still a chance to step back. You could apologise for having toed the line and claim it was a mistake, that in your desperation to look for the cigars you had not thought about how it would appear-

Mr. Kim leaned down and kissed you. 

You had been kissed before (there was that innocent little dalliance with the stableboy from many years ago) but you had never been kissed like this. His lips were hot as they covered yours and his hands were hot as one of them cupped your face and the other came around your waist to pull your body flush against his. 

Every place he touched with his hands and lips set you on fire. 

You gasped into his mouth; he did not waste the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck. 

You could not think. You could not breathe. You melted against him completely and allowed yourself to run your hands over his toned chest and shoulders while Mr. Kim continued to press warm kisses to your lips and jaw. 

He pulled back for a moment, forehead pressed against yours and breathing heavily. Your breath mingled and the room was silent except for the sound of your combined heavy breathing. 

"Mingyu," you whispered. "I-"

There was a loud noise outside the storeroom. You both froze. Mr. Kim swiftly pushed you so that you were hidden behind a large easel covered in a white sheet and out of sight of the door. 

"I-it's probably just the gallery staff," he said anxiously. His dark eyes searched yours as he slowly released you and stepped back. 

A sudden emptiness flooded you as you realised, he was leaving you. 

"No, wait-"

"I will go out and send whoever it is away. Come out of the storeroom after at least two minutes," Mr. Kim said quickly before he swiftly exited the storeroom. 

You stared after him in shock. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

You could not sleep all night. Mr. Kim had avoided you for the rest of the gallery opening. Once your mother understood that Baron Wright was not in attendance, she had preferred to leave early, and you were forced to return home without a chance to speak to him again. 

Would Mr. Kim propose? Perhaps it was too soon for that. But he would come speak to you to understand your feelings and explain his, you were sure of it. That kiss had not been for nothing. Mr. Kim would not have kissed you if he did not feel the same way about you.

You waited. 

And waited.

And waited. 

Two days later, Jeonghan called you into his study while your mother was away from home. You felt anxious, not knowing what your brother wanted to discuss. Perhaps this was it, perhaps Mr. Kim had thought it was best to approach your brother before the proposal?

Jeonghan looked tired as he closed the study door behind you and turned to you with a sigh. 

"Baron Wright has asked for permission to propose to you," Jeonghan said. He noticed the instant panic that flashed across your face and lifted a hand to calm you. "I have not answered him yet- do not worry. I told him that I would discuss it with you and let him know."

You shook your head frantically. "I-I don't want to marry Baron Wright."

"I expected so. It appears your mother has been strongly encouraging him to propose. Sister- I do not want to pressure you but you know that time is running out and your mother will lose her mind if you are not engaged by the season's end."

You sank down into a chair near Jeonghan's desk and took a deep breath. You suddenly felt as though the walls of the room were closing in on you. Clearly Mr. Kim had feelings for you, so why was he sitting around while other men proposed? What was he doing with all this time? His failure to propose to you was only making things more complicated and confusing. 

"Has… nobody else asked?" you questioned Jeonghan finally. 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow and leaned against his desk. "Are you expecting someone else to ask?"

You flushed in embarrassment. "No, no, I mean…"

"Sister, you have to tell me."

You took another deep breath and tried to calm the racing thoughts in your head. You could not figure out your next steps and the only person you trusted to guide you or help you was not here. 

"Have… have you spoken to Mr. Kim at all in the last few days?" you asked hesitantly. 

Jeonghan's eyes widened. "No. Should I have?"

"No, no-"

"Sister. Should I speak to Mr. Kim?"

"No!" you said quickly. "Not at all. I… I need some time to think. I will come back soon."

Jeonghan did not seem convinced but allowed you to leave the study. You walked out into the foyer as you considered your options. You had to marry by the end of the season and the thought of Baron Wright becoming your husband made you recoil in disgust. You wanted Mingyu and if he would not come to you, then you would have to go to him. 

It was evening; chances were high that Mr. Kim would be at either the assembly rooms or the gentleman's club. You could not gain entrance to the latter but if luck was in your favour, you might find him at the assembly rooms. 

You called for the carriage and set off immediately. 

The assembly rooms were crowded and you weaved through the people anxiously, hoping nobody would notice that you were without a chaperone and that you could find Mr. Kim quickly. 

"Miss Yoon!"

You jumped- but the voice that called out to you was not one that you need have worried about. The Viscountess Hong was smiling at you from one of the card tables. 

You greeted her anxiously. "Viscountess Hong."

"Would you like to join us for a game of cards? The stakes are not very high. We are only playing for fun," she said pleasantly. 

"Oh-thank you… no, I am afraid I must decline, I am actually looking for someone…."

"Who?" she asked quietly. 

You lowered your voice. "Mr. Kim."

The Viscountess stared at you for a brief moment. You felt suddenly ashamed under her curious gaze but she did not stare for long. She immediately turned to her husband and interrupted his conversation to ask. "Joshua- have you seen Mr. Kim this evening? I rather enjoy watching him lose to you at cards, it is very amusing."

The Viscount blinked at his wife. "Mr. Kim? No, he is not here. I believe he spends most of his time at the art gallery. I will ask him to join us one of these days."

The Viscountess gave you a meaningful look; you returned a silent smile of gratitude and left for the art gallery. 

The front entrance of the building was closed and the door appeared to be locked. The gallery closed at 5pm and it was already well past that. Hesitantly, you knocked on the large door panels and were relieved when a member of the staff opened it and peered at you. 

"I am terribly sorry, madam, the gallery is closed for the evening-"

"I was hoping to see Mr. Kim."

"Oh… yes, of course, please come in."

The staff member allowed you to enter the gallery and guided you towards a plush chair where you could sit while they disappeared into a back room to fetch Mr. Kim. Your heartbeat was thudding with anxiety. You had not prepared yourself for what to say to him, but usually speaking to Mr. Kim came so easily to you that preparation was rarely required…

Mr. Kim appeared a few moments later. His eyes widened when he saw you and he quickly dismissed the staff before walking towards you. 

"Miss Yoon," he said quietly. "It is very risky for you to be seen here-"

You cut him off, urgently stepping closer. "I had to speak to you, it could not wait. Time is running out, Mingyu. I need to be engaged by the end of the season and my mother has already encouraged Baron Wright to propose. I will have to give him an answer soon. "

Mr. Kim looked torn. You paused to notice how different he looked; his usually neatly parted hair was tousled and his suit jacket wrinkled. His face was pale. There was a heavy scent that hung around him- the usual smell of cigars combined with the pungent smell of whisky. 

"Have you been drinking?" you asked him suddenly. 

He would not make eye contact with you. Something was wrong and you had a sudden awful, foreboding feeling wash over you as Mr. Kim sat down on one of the plush chairs and ran his fingers shakily through his hair. 

"I'm sorry," he said, trembling. "I made a mistake."

Your heart sank. 

"What?"

"I should not have kissed you that evening. I-I took advantage of the situation and crossed the boundaries of friendship and propriety. You are a lady and you did not deserve to be treated like that, I would understand if you hated me…"

"But I do not hate you," you whispered. "I love you."

He visibly flinched at your confession. 

"You don't. You shouldn't."

"Why?" you demanded, confused.

"Because I do not deserve it. My intentions were impure from the moment I laid eyes on you. If I had truly wanted to help you find a husband, I would not have done half the things I did. I was playing a secret game- a game where the end result was you falling in love with me rather than finding you a husband."

You stared at him. The gallery was silent. You could hear nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat. 

"That can't be true…" you said quietly. "You… you were the only gentleman who was not performing this entire bloody pantomime, who spoke to me so naturally and honestly without ulterior motives…"

Mr. Kim looked up at you. His eyes were bloodshot and the corner of his lips curved up in a humourless smile. 

"That you still can't see it means that you are too innocent, too sweet, too trusting for your own good. I saw that- it was so deliciously tempting and I took advantage of it."

It did not make sense to you. Took advantage of what? No matter what he said, you did not feel taken advantage of. You had wanted to kiss him, you had wanted everything that he did and said to you. Not a single thing Mingyu had done had ever been unwelcome. 

"I can't understand what you are saying," you whispered. 

He ran his fingers through his hair again in frustration. "It was all calculated, Miss Yoon. Everything I did was calculated. Do you want a list of the techniques I used on you? I encouraged you to tell me about your deepest fears and used them to make you trust me. I stayed by your side constantly so that you would come to depend on me, and eventually my absence would feel hollow. I encouraged you to smoke cigars so that we would have a shared secret, something thrilling we shared that no other people could know of. Are these not the things that made you fall in love with me?"

"Y-yes, but…"

"Then I successfully manipulated you."

Your legs felt weak. Yes, yes, he was describing everything that had made you fall for Mingyu but why did he have to make them all sound so malicious? How could he take these feelings, these genuine feelings that you had for him and say that they were the result of some clever tactics he had used? 

"You manipulated me into falling in love with you?" you demanded. "So… to be clear, you do not think that I am truly in love with you?"

Mr. Kim shook his head. "How could you be? I have only ever shown you the parts of me that I intended to show you. Do you even know what I am like when I am not with you?"

"Why should I care what you are like when you are not with me?" you asked, bewildered. 

"You are naive to even ask that question."

Something inside of you broke at his harsh words. This was not the man you knew. A dark, ugly whirlpool of self-loathing and regret in your stomach suddenly emerged as you looked down at this man- this man that could stand here so calmly after you had exposed your most vulnerable thoughts to him and tell you that your love was merely the result of his manipulations and scheming.

You suddenly wanted to end this conversation. 

"Fine," you whispered. "So, I am naive, foolish and I fell for some trap that you set to intentionally ruin my life- is that all? Is that what I am to understand from all this?"

"Yes," he croaked. 

"Congratulations, Mr. Kim. If that is what you truly feel then I will leave you to celebrate your victory alone," you told him quietly. 

You walked towards the exit of the gallery before Mr. Kim could see how your hands were trembling, how your throat had closed up and your chest felt so tight that you thought it might explode. 

"I warned you that I was a rake," he said softly. 

You paused, hand on the door, and turned to look at him. "Then tell me one more thing," you choked out. "Did you love me?" 

He did not look at you. 

"I don't know."

—--------------------------------------------------------

You felt numb as the carriage brought you back home. It was as though your mind and body had shut down completely due to their inability to process the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. 

The carriage driver had to tap on the door thrice to inform you that you had arrived at the Yoon manor and needed to descend. 

You entered the foyer and walked towards the stairs, barely noticing that there was a commotion coming from the adjoining drawing room. Loud voices were arguing; the door opened in front of you and you had no choice but to go in. 

"There you are!" your mother cried furiously as she saw you. She grabbed your arm and pulled you into the drawing room further. You limply followed her, lacking the energy to resist. "Where have you been? How could you leave the house without saying a word to anybody?"

You opened your mouth to respond but she cut you off immediately. 

"Never mind that! Look; look at what this boy has done now! Baron Wright has approached your brother for your hand in marriage and he will not grant his permission!"

Jeonghan had his fingers pressed to his temples, as he often did when conversing with your mother. "I am not refusing to grant anything, madam, I am only waiting for my sister to make up her mind."

"About what?" your mother screeched. "What is there to make up her mind about the man is a Baron and he wishes to marry my daughter! There is nothing to discuss! We have already angered him by making him wait so long-"

Jeonghan frowned. "If he cannot wait even a few days for a response to his proposal-"

"He is a Baron!"

You flinched. Your head was aching so badly that every word you mother yelled felt like a knife in your flesh. She continued to yell at your brother and finally something inside of you snapped. 

You had had enough. 

"Will you shut up?" you yelled. Your hands were shaking. "Can you all shut up for one bloody second, do you not see that I am suffocating? Are you so blinded by your selfishness and hatred that you cannot even ask me if I want to marry the Baron? I can't breathe, mother, but that does not matter to you! You would drag me lifeless to the altar if I happened to die before the wedding!"

Your mother looked as though you had slapped her. 

"My dear, I-"

You wrenched her arm out of her grasp violently.

"Don't touch me. This has never been about me or my sister or Jeonghan. This has always been about you and your bloody selfishness. I will not marry the Baron. I am sick of being pushed about and doing things to make others happy and if you have a problem with that, mother, you can marry the fucking Baron yourself." 

The room was silent. For a moment even you could not believe what you had done- your mother gaped at you wordlessly, and even Jeonghan was stunned into silence. 

You turned and fled upstairs. 

It was too much; the combined emotions of the evening had overwhelmed you. The tears were streaming down your face but somehow it was incredibly important that nobody saw them. You ran up to your bedchambers, sank down on the floor next to the bed, pulled your knees up to your chest and cried. 

The sobs racked your body violently and it was almost a relief, because the physical pain of holding them in had been too difficult to bear. 

You cried because the man you thought you loved was lost to you. Because somehow, you had failed everyone- your sister, Jeonghan, mother… you had failed them all. Everything had gone wrong and it was all your fault. The way Mingyu's bloodshot eyes had looked up at you, the things he had said- innocent, naive, trusting….

You felt disgusted with yourself. 

He was right. You were stupid, naive and trusting. But despite all the misery you were going through, there was perhaps one very important, very crucial and painful lesson that Mingyu had, intentionally or not, taught you. 

You would never trust again.  

There was a knock on your door. Jeonghan's voice called out to you gently from the other side. 

"Sister?" he said as the door creaked open. His tone was gentle. "Are you here?"

"Yes," you choked out. 

"That was quite a scene you made with your mother," he said with a chuckle. "She hasn't spoken a word since you left. I thought her discovery of our sister's affair was bad, but I think you have broken her far beyond that."

You said nothing. 

Jeonghan came around the side of the bed. He saw you curled up in the corner with your tear-stricken face. He sighed and kneeled beside you. 

"Is there anyone I need to speak to?" he asked gently. 

You shook your head. "No."

"What shall we do?"

"Let's please just go home."

—-----------------------------------------------

The words ‘innocent’, ‘naive’, and ‘trusting’ rang like bells in your head and you heard them in Mr. Kim’s voice in your waking dreams and nightmares. You heard them constantly, over and over, chanting in a rhythm that matched the hoofbeats of the horses that pulled your carriage away from London and back towards your countryside home. 

They pierced you so deeply because they were true. You had been warned- every single person you met had told you that Mr. Kim was a notorious rake. Even your sister-in-law had brought him in to mentor you because he was the best at the game. 

You had stumbled blindly into a game that you barely understood and tried to take on a man who had been the ace, the savant for years. What had you been thinking? You may as well have walked up to Mr. Kim Mingyu and handed him your heart on a silver platter. 

No, you thought. There is no use crying over it now. Mr. Kim was right. You had been innocent, naive and trusting. And despite all the pain you were going through, there was one very important lesson that Mingyu had taught you. Like a fledgling bird pushed out of the nest too soon, you had landed on the ground but you were prepared for your next flight. You would not allow yourself to be pushed around and used and manipulated. You would not be taken under anyone’s wings. 

You would find your own wings. 

And you would start with the woman who had been suffocating you from the moment you were born- your mother. 

Your sister was waiting at the front entrance of the manor as the carriage rolled up to your familiar countryside manor. She ran towards you- she had received letters from Jeonghan and heard everything that he knew, including that you had refused to marry Baron Wright. The anxiety on her face was evident. 

“Oh my dear sister!” 

She embraced you warmly; you took a deep breath and inhaled her familiar scent and hugged her, blinking back the tears in your eyes. You had missed her deeply. You pulled back and gave her a gentle, watery smile. 

“Are you all right?” she asked you nervously. 

You nodded. “I am excellent, sister. And I have wonderful news. We have to prepare for a wedding this winter.” 

Her eyes widened. “But I thought… Jeonghan said you turned down Baron Wright…” 

You shook your head. 

“The wedding we are preparing for is yours.” 

—------------------------------------------------------------------

Your mother gave up expressing her displeasure after it became clear to her that not a single person in the Yoon household, least of all her precious youngest daughter, cared two bits for what she thought. She walked around the house bemoaning her lot in life and how Jeonghan had turned both her daughters against her. You felt no sympathy. You were tired of living under your mother’s reign of fear and anxiety- indeed, she was partly to blame for your proclivity to anxiousness and nervous breakdowns. 

You refused to allow your failure- no, your decision- not to marry to stop your sister from attaining her own happiness. 

“Are you sure?” your sister asked you anxiously as the modiste fussed about her skirts and fitted her wedding gown. “Are you quite sure about this, sister? It will be very difficult for you when you go into London next season and the entire ton associates you with me.” 

You shook your head. “I do not care.” 

“But you do not understand how difficult it is to enter society when everyone is gossiping about…” 

You gave her a firm look and she fell silent. Your sister knew you too well not to notice the change in you; you were not the same shy, innocent girl who she had sent away to London a few months ago. There was a mixture of sadness and understanding in her eyes as she nodded and turned her attention back to her wedding gown. 

“We will need to tuck this part in here…” the modiste murmured. 

You frowned. “Hurry. The wedding is in barely two days.” 

“I can get it done in time.” 

There was a knock on the door and one of the modiste’s assistants poked her head into the dressing room anxiously. “Mr. Choi is here, madam. He is waiting outside the shop.”

You stood up quickly before your sister could speak. “He cannot see my sister in her wedding gown. I will go speak to him.” 

You hurried outside and saw Seungcheol standing anxiously near the entrance to the shop. His son- little Jiwoo with his father’s eyes and smile- was standing with him and he beamed when he saw you, waving his hands in greeting eagerly. You smiled back at the boy. 

“Jiwoo! You have grown so tall!” you told him brightly. 

Jiwoo blushed proudly. 

Seungcheol smiled down at his son for a moment before turning to you. There was a certain anxiousness in his kind eyes. He had been anticipating this wedding for a long time, and it was evident that he was just as nervous, if not more, than your sister inside. 

“Have you not heard that it is bad luck to see the bride in her wedding gown?” you scolded Seungcheol. 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I only wanted to be sure everything is going well.” 

“Everything is going perfectly. I am taking care of things so you, Mr. Choi, can wait at your home,” you told him firmly. “Unless you are having second thoughts about the wedding. In which case I shall be obliged to inform you that I know where Jeonghan keeps his hunting rifles and I am not afraid to use them.” 

He chuckled. “There will be no need for that.” 

“Good.” 

Seungcheol gave you a small smile. “Your sister has informed me that any mention of postponing the wedding until next season makes you incredibly angry so I will not suggest it to you. Instead-let me say thank you. Thank you for doing this for us.” 

You shook your head. “No- I am sorry that you had to wait because of me.” 

“That was not your fault.” 

“Perhaps not,” you said quietly. “Perhaps I did not ask for it, but it was decided that way for my benefit. I have allowed other people to decide things for me for too long. It is time I chose what makes me happy and nothing would make me happier than seeing you marry my sister.” 

Seungcheol reached out to clasp your hand in both of his. His words were warm and genuine. “You will always be welcome at our home.” 

You bit your lip and smiled. 

“Thank you.” 

—----------------------------------------------

#seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen x reader #mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #seventeen angst #regency!au #seventeen imagines #mingyu fanfiction

[geekedoutbunny]

Husband! Sun Wukong x Wife! Reader

Ch. 2

Paring: Sun Wukong x Reader

Rating: Rated M

Warning: In this story, you will read the following - Slice of Life, Mention of Death, attempted suicide, Past Cheating, Present Cheating, Triangle, Friendship, depression, anxiety, romance, angst, fluff, action, thriller, and drama.

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

You sat on the cloud, enjoying the beautiful view that was Flower Fruit Mountain, a little monkey lay on your lap sleeping peacefully your fingers gently scratching the top of its head making it sigh in contentment in its sleep. You were deep in thought as you stared at the view. You looked down as you heard determined grunting from MK as he trained with Wukong.

You smiled at the sight of them, happy to see your boys bounding, you sighed as you laid back on the cloud making the little monkey give a little grumble at being shifted in its sleep but he went back to sleep. You stared at the sky, the deep blue always so hypnotic, it was a trip that there was, in fact, an end to the blue wall. Your thoughts went to the celestial world, your memories of traveling with Wukong and his brothers flooded your thoughts.

You smiled fondly at the memory of Azure, Yellow Tusk, Peng, and... and Macaque. Your smile turned into a sad one as you thought of the black-furred monkey. Your eyes danced along the sky as you went through your memories with him. "That was a long time ago... a very long time ago." You said aloud to yourself. Wukong suddenly appeared before you, a cheeky smile on his face as he did.

Your eyes widened some in shock before you smiled at him. "What was a long time ago, hmm?" He asked, playful as he stared down at you with a questioning yet cheeky stare. You chuckled, "Oh just the time when we were younger and when you used to run around wreaking havoc and I had to come and help clean up your mess." You explained as you smiled at him. He gave you a sheepish smile as he looked off while rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, that was pretty long ago." He said through a wavering chuckle. You chuckled up at him in amusement, making him look back down at you in question. "What's so funny?" He asked. You reached up, your hand gently caressing his cheek. "Just seeing you get all embarrassed over a silly memory." You said. He smiled as he stared down at you kindly his hand coming up to hold yours against his cheek.

"Yeah, well, you make me this way, you know that?" He said. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart hammered in your chest gently as the love between you flourished. "UMM!! HEY, MONKEY KING!? ARE WE STILL TRAINING OR WHAT!?" Shouted MK from below you both. You both looked down at him. "WE'RE STILL TRAINING BUD, BUT YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND TAKE A BREAK!!" Wukong shouted back as he gave MK a thumbs up. "COOL!!" MK shouted before he looked around. He looked back up at you both. "I'M JUST GONNA HELP MYSELF TO SOME MORE PEACH CAKE!!" He shouted before he took off towards the kitchen.

You and Wukong chuckled at MK's antics as you both watched him run into the kitchen. You sighed as you listened to MK make a mess in the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes. Wukong looked over at you in amusement. "He sure is a work of art, huh?" He asked in a teasing tone. You looked over at him, slightly annoyed. "Yeah, and no thanks to you." You said, he gasped as he held his chest. "HOW COULD YOU!?" He said dramatically, you rolled your eyes as you smiled at his antics.

"Oh, hush you." You said as you sat up, he moved back some as you did and he watched you curiously as you sat upright on the cloud, the little monkey on your lap looked around in question before it stretched and it hopped down on the peach tree below you. Wukong watched as the little monkey climbed down the tree and ran to his friends. "You might wanna go into the kitchen with MK." You cautioned him. He looked over at you.

"Why? If you're worried about him breaking something, don't worry about it, I can easily fix it." He said nonchalantly. You shook your head. "It's not that, It's just that there's only three slices of peach cake left, and you haven't had any yet." You said as you pointed towards the kitchen below. His face dropped, and his eyes widened in alarm. "AND YOU WAIT UNTIL NOW TO TELL ME THIS!?" He shouted. You shrugged. He looked down at the kitchen below, and he raced off. "HANG ON, MK!! LEAVE SOME FOR ME!!" He shouted as he jumped down and raced into the kitchen.

You sighed tiredly as you could hear some glass breaking and the sound of wrestling going on. You looked up at the sky, a cloud drifting by, the shape of it was odd and you focused on the shape, trying to see what it was. An image of Wukon appeared and you smiled fondly at the cloud, but it slowly faded when Macaque appeared in his place. You sighed as you looked at the cloud in worry. "That was a long time ago, Macaque... and yet, you still haunt my thoughts." You spoke aloud to yourself.

MK sighed in contentment as he relaxed his head against the side of your thigh, your hand gently combed through his once-tangled hair, and you hummed a soft tune as you did, deep in thought. He looked up at you with a curious gaze before he looked down dejected. "Hey, Mrs. Wukong?" He said, a sad tone in his voice. "Hmm?" You asked. He stayed quiet for a moment. "Do you think I'll be able to get as strong as Monkey King one day?" He asked, uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. Your eyes shifted to his face as concern gleamed in them.

"Where is this coming from, MK?" You asked him softly. He sighed as he sat up, your hands resting in your lap as you stared at him with patience. "Well, it's what Lady Bone Demon said... She said that all my efforts would lead to nothing but pain... and I want to continue to get stronger so that I can continue to protect my friends... But it seems that the stringer I get, the more danger I put my friends in... I just don't get it." He explained. You sighed as you moved over to sit next to him.

You wrapped your arm around him, pulling him closer to you, he leaned into your side, and the sad look on his face broke your heart. "You know... Tàiyáng went through the same thing." You spoke gently. He looked up at you with question his eyes gleaming in slight hope. "Really?... Then... How did he handle it?" He asked. You looked off, your eyes trailing up till you saw a picture of you and Wukong on your shelf. "Well, he had his friends to back him up." You said. He sighed and you looked down at him.

"Yeah, well we seen how that turned out." He said in a sarcastic voice. You bounced your head from side to side as you nodded agreeing with his words. "That's true, but that's because he lacked something you don't have." You said. He looked up at you with an arched brow. "And what would that be?" He asked. You smiled. "Pride." You simply said. He cocked his head to the side. "Whaaa?" He asked, the confusion in his eyes was enough but to hear it was enough to make you chuckle lightly.

"You see, Tàiyáng has too much pride... He has a hard time asking for help, and for the simplest of tasks... He's been the strongest for so long that he's forgotten what it was like for him to lean on others and not the other way around." You explained. He stared up at you with a dazed stare. You arched your brow. "What?" You asked him. "Are you sure Monkey King's the sage equal to heaven and not the other way around?" He asked as he twirled his finger in a little circle. You chuckled at his words. "You have no idea how many others have asked me that same thing. But I can assure you that I am not, but I am his wife so I guess that counts." You said with a playful eye roll.

"Yeah, checks out." He said with slitted eyes as he nodded. You smiled at him sweetly. "Listen, MK, your journey is going to be long and hard. You may or may not lose some friends along the way, and that's okay. That's how life works. It's unfair and it seems harsh, but that's so you can mature and make new friends in their stead... Just like Tàiyáng did with you and your friends." You said. MK stared at you with a worried stare before he looked down. "But, I don't wanna lose my friends... I don't want to lose anyone." he said.

You sighed. "Nobody does, MK. They don't want to go through that hardship, but sometimes it can't be helped... Sometimes, pain is what helps us to grow." You explained. He stared up at you with sad eyes before he looked down and he sighed. "That's not fair." He said dejectedly. You nodded as you leaned your head onto his. You both sat there in silence, listening to the sound of the waterfall that showered over the entrance of the cave.

Wukon stood on his cloud high above you and MK, his arms crossed as he had a concerned look on his face before he smiled. "That's why I married her." He said to himself, a proud smile on his face.

MASTER LIST | NSFW CONTENT

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk fanfiction #lego monkie kid fanfiction #sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong lego monkie kid #sun wukong lmk #lmk sun wukong x y/n #sun wukong #sun wukong x y/n

[stanchett]

Is it possible to write a fic about gwen from in fabric again? Reader shares a class with gwen and ends up sketching them a lot. Gwen has no idea why this person in their class keeps staring at them, till she finds a sketch that the reader accidentally forgot to place in their bag. Gwen figures it out and starts wearing more eyecatching outfits and sits wherever reader’s line of sight is. Reader is flustered yet inspired so more sketches and less listening to class. Then one day they get partnered for a project and gwen just mentions if they at least had an idea what the project is about since they were too busy making drawings of them? Sorry if it’s super specific, it’s all good if you change some details and make it more smutty or fluffy lol

Here it is!! This was a fun one, I’m glad it was so specific as it made it easier for me to get back into the swing of writing. I haven’t totally gotten back into the mindset of being home yet, so I hope this will suffice 😅 thanks to @deadtooth-taylor and @zephyr-is-tired for beta-ing, and thanks for the prompt, anon!!

Model

3k words

You were always an A student. Perfect GPA, loved by all of your teachers, and you were always seen as an overachiever. So when this beautiful stranger showed up to the first day of class, you were so caught off guard that you knew you would fail. 

Her jet-black hair was what caught your attention first. Second was her height. She walked into the classroom ahead of you, and when she turned to take her seat, you had to keep from stopping in your tracks as your peers entered behind you. She was too preoccupied with readying her course materials to notice you, and for that, you were grateful. You clutched your notebook and pen a little closer to your chest as you walked past her, taking a seat in the row beside her and a couple of desks behind. A few minutes later, everyone else found their seats, and the professor shut the door to begin the class. You pulled out your syllabus, but had a difficult time following along as he read it aloud. You were too taken by the girl in the front row to care. The way she nonchalantly leaned on her elbow on the small desk only made her more attractive. You licked your lips as your eyes swept over her a final time, and opened to a blank page in your notebook. New pen in hand, you began to sketch. 

——

Your only passion aside from your schoolwork was art, but you knew it was far from a promising career path, so you hung onto it as a hobby. That passion shone through as you drew the stunning woman before you, even if you couldn’t see her every detail from your chosen seat. Before you knew it, the professor was wrapping up the period, and your fellow students were standing from their desks and collecting their things. You snapped your “notes” shut and moved to stand. At that very moment, the girl in the front row glanced your way, and your breath froze in your lungs. Your eyes met hers and a smirk appeared on her lips before she looked away, tossing her bag onto her arm. You nearly fell back into your seat as she walked away, peeking over her shoulder a final time before she made her way out of the building. 

You scrambled to pull yourself together, her blue eyes the only thing on your mind. If she was going to be taking this class with you, you’d be totally screwed. 

——

Two weeks passed, and they were filled with stolen glances and brief encounters. Once on your way into the classroom, you nearly ran into her in your rush to get to your seat. You hurriedly apologized, but she didn’t say anything in response. Just shot you a cheeky grin before allowing you to enter the room before her. You could feel her eyes on you the whole way to your desk, but you dared not look up once you were seated. Her gaze both intimidated you and gave you the most ferocious of butterflies you had ever felt. You smiled to yourself upon remembering the way she looked at you, and freed your usual spiral-bound notebook from your bag before shaking away the memory. At this point you considered picking up a separate one for actual class notes, as this one was now a quarter of the way filled with doodles of the girl whose name you had yet to learn. 

As your professor introduced the topic to be covered, you swore you heard him mention the word “project.” At that, your pen stilled, and you looked up to see him writing pairs of names on the whiteboard alongside a list of topics to choose from. Beside your own name in red dry erase marker was “Gwen,” and you said a silent prayer that it wasn’t the one person you had had your eye on for the majority of your time in class. As if she could read your mind, the girl turned around and raised her eyebrows at you, suggesting your suspicions were correct. You only blushed in reply. 

Capping his pen, the professor turned to address the room, assigning all the pairs to partner up. You had a moment of panic before rising from your seat to take the now empty one beside Gwen, and pretended to busy yourself with arranging your things to avoid looking at her. You felt like a bug under a microscope at the way she studied you, and you could quickly feel your blush creeping up higher on your neck. 

As soon as you were settled, she reached her hand out, and your eyes followed up the extension of her arm to meet her own, their bright blue tones just as piercing as you remembered. Your mouth ran dry, and she looked at you expectantly. After a beat of silence, she took it upon herself to make the first introduction. 

“Gwen.” Was all she said, and her voice startled you back into the moment. It was deep yet gentle, only giving you more fuel for your crush on the woman. You shook her outstretched hand and told her your name in return, now slightly embarrassed at your hesitance. She eyed you up and down before flipping to a new page in her notes, allowing you to fully take her in without the fear of her judging your gaze. You weren’t quick enough to look away though, and she caught you staring as she looked up again. Her signature smirk overtook her features again, much like on the day you first saw her, and you were sure your cheeks were a deep shade of red by now. 

“See something you like, y/n?” she teased, and you fought to keep your breathing under control. You were grateful the classroom was filled with chatter from your classmates, otherwise you would’ve been infinitely more embarrassed at her words, had anyone overheard. 

“No- er, sorry…” you rushed to apologize, opening your own notebook to a fresh page. You were careful to turn past all the sketches you had of her; what would she think if she knew you spent nearly every class period drawing her? 

“So, which topic are we choosing?” she asked, turning her gaze to the board to run down the list. Shit. You hadn’t been paying attention at all. You cursed internally at the way you had allowed yourself to become so distracted with the woman in front of you.

“Maybe… number 4?” You hoped you could BS your way through this and at least make it seem like you’d been paying a bit of attention. She turned back at your suggestion, uncapping her pen in preparation to discuss it with you. 

You kept conversation with her surprisingly well, considering how intense her aura was. You could hardly meet her eyes as the two of you spoke, but having some background in the subject definitely aided in the conversation. 

As the period came to a close, you found yourself disappointed as opposed to your usual relief to leave her presence. You shut your notes and the other students began filing out of the room, tossing your things quickly into your bag. You missed one thing, however; a page had torn free from your notepad, and drifted to the floor at Gwen’s feet. It was a drawing of her you had been working on for awhile, coming back to it when you were fed up with your smaller scribbles. She wordlessly scooped it up, noticing you were still preoccupied with gathering your belongings, and placed it in her own bag. She stopped in front of your desk before leaving, a knowing look in her eye as her fingers drummed on the wood.

“See you later, y/n.” she said, your eyes meeting hers once more. With a polite smile, you nodded eagerly as she turned to leave, finally releasing the breath you had been holding. You were definitely studying the textbook when you got back to your dorm. 

——

You were already seated at your new place in the front row as the professor greeted the class, but Gwen had yet to show up. Lo and behold, in she walked just as he was taking attendance, fashionably late. Which was an understatement. Today, she wore a short black dress that hugged every curve, with a fluffy black sweater and heels to match. What really caught your attention though, was the thin black choker around her neck. The way it flexed around the muscles there was dizzying as she fought to catch her breath from hurrying into the classroom. She took her seat beside you and shot you a sweet smile before prepping her things for the lesson. You couldn’t resist the urge to look over at her, her choice of clothing suggesting she probably had somewhere to be after this. 

After briefly addressing the class, the professor dismissed you to pair off and discuss your chosen topics for the remainder of class. You were now more nervous than ever to face Gwen, donning her full makeup and more revealing outfit that made your heart race. You shifted in your seat to turn in her direction, eyes glued to the floor. She noticed your hesitance to look her way, and craned her neck down to bring your eyeline back to hers with a playful smile. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked, despite knowing exactly what she was doing. You offered her a shy smile and met her gaze at last, her flawless winged eyeliner accentuating her hypnotizing eyes. You couldn’t think of anything to say, so you just nodded with a hum. 

“By the way… I think you dropped this last class,” she said as she handed you a folded piece of paper between her index and middle fingers. You didn’t need to open it to know what it was. You could see your pen marks through the thin sheet. You felt your cheeks tinge pink, which had become a habit when you were around Gwen, and grabbed it from her. You noticed the bleed of a marker’s ink in the corner, but didn’t dare unfold it should anyone be looking over your shoulder. You slipped it into the cover of your notebook and shut it again, muttering a quick “thanks” under your breath. 

Gwen was watching you intently with her chin resting in her palm, that damned smirk plastered on her face. She waited a moment before she spoke up again, realizing you may need a second to recover from her discovery of your little hobby. She allowed her eyes to rove over you, and you caught her just as they reached your face. 

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to model for you. I would quite enjoy playing a role in your creative process.” For a moment you thought she was joking, and you scowled at her teasing. She raised an eyebrow and you quickly realized she was serious, your eyes growing wide for a moment. 

“…Really? I mean, if you wouldn’t mind… And since you suggested it-“ You stumbled over your words, hoping you didn’t sound too pathetic. To your pleasant surprise, though, she perked up, a huge smile on her face. 

“Perfect! You can come ‘round to mine at 8,” she said excitedly as the class began to wrap up. The time had flown by, and you didn’t even have a chance to work on your project together at all thanks to your distracted discussion. You realized you didn’t have any of her information before she strutted confidently out of the room. You raised your notebook from the desk and the folded sheet hit your palm before you could put it into your bag. Letting it fall into your hand, you opened it up to reveal what the marks were that you had spotted earlier - Gwen’s dorm and phone number. You felt a swell of pride in your chest when you gave your drawing another once-over. Clearly she knew skill when she saw it. 

——

Around 7:45, you changed into something more suited to the occasion (your favorite paint-streaked overalls and a white t-shirt) and made your way to the hall that held Gwen’s unit. You found her door easily, but hesitated before knocking. Drawing supplies at your side, you took a breath and raised your fist to knock twice. A moment later, she eased the door open and smiled in greeting, still wearing her stunning outfit from earlier in the day. She stepped aside and let you in, and you immediately took notice of dim light in the room and soft music playing, making the space seem suggestive of another purpose entirely. You shook the thought away and stood awkwardly in the middle of the single dorm, too shy to take a seat without being offered one. 

As if she were able to read your mind, Gwen pulled the chair out from beneath her large study desk, now cleared off to make space for your creative needs. But she left a few feet of space between the seat and desk. Leaning on a hand on the back of the chair, she crooked her fingers to beckon you over to sit. You gulped an obliged, your gaze lingering a bit too long on her dexterous fingers. You snapped out of your daze and made your way over, lowering yourself beside her with your things on your lap. She stepped away and reclined on the edge of the desk facing you, her eyes locked on yours. You swore you saw a spark of something mischievous in them in the low light, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Well? Pose me,” she said, raising an arm in the air dramatically to illustrate her point. You smiled at her display and thought for a moment. You suddenly felt in your element, your reason for visiting Gwen’s coming back to you. Pencil tapping your chin, an idea came to you. 

“Sit on the desk, your back to the wall on your left.” Your voice took on a commanding tone you almost didn’t recognize, and you were willing to bet it equally surprised Gwen. As soon as she was in the position you asked for, you tilted your head in thought as more ideas came to you. You stood from your place and stepped over to her. Placing your fingers under the back of her knee, you mumbled the suggestion to bend it and cross her legs at the ankle. You were too focused on your vision to realize that the movement had caused her dress to ride up higher on her thighs, revealing the lace of her stockings beneath. Gwen, meanwhile, was still in shock at your sudden boldness; she liked this side of you. It was interesting to see you delve so deeply into your passions that you nearly lost yourself in them. 

You brought your hands to her arms, raising one of her hands to her jaw and the other in the air at an angle in front of her. You failed to realize until it was too late how close you had gotten to her; your hips pressing into her thigh closest to you, fingertips grazing her forearms as you caught her eye at last. You stilled in your movements, glancing at her lips then to her eyes with a small smile.

“Perfect,” you whispered before stepping back to your seat, praying Gwen couldn’t see the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the close proximity. You opened up a new page in your new sketchbook and crossed your legs to alleviate the tension building between them, placing the book atop them. You sketched out her outline, and the shapes that stood out the most before starting on the smaller details. You were impressed at how perfectly still your model stayed, the position she was in wasn’t a strenuous one but it took you at least 10 minutes to get things to look the way you wanted. As you began shading, you caught her staring at you with a sly side eye and a smirk before averting her gaze forward again. 

“Something funny?” you asked, her expression throwing you out of your groove a bit. She shook her head dismissively, her smile growing. “What?”

Gwen turned her head toward you and tapped her cheek with her fingers, “You have some graphite…” 

Slightly embarrassed, you wipe at the spot she gestured toward with your fingers, only making it worse unbeknownst to you. Gwen giggled and raised from her place on the desk, bending forward to rest one hand on your thigh while the other’s fingertips brushed over the smudge. A soft gasp left your throat at the contact, taken aback by her touch. Your eyes flicked between hers and her lips, her thumb stroking your thigh causing a particular heat to rise in your abdomen. You licked your lips and leaned into her hesitantly, waiting for her to close the gap between you. When she connected your lips at last, a soft whimper left you. Her hands grasped the straps of your overalls and she pulled you up against her, sending your art supplies tumbling to the floor. 

All at once she flipped your positions, pushing you against the edge of the desk and pinning you there with her hips. Your hands reached for them eagerly, and Gwen swallowed your low groan as they rolled into yours. Before pulling away, her teeth grazed your bottom lip, your heavy breaths falling into sync with each other. She rested her forehead on yours and closed her eyes to gather herself for a moment, her following words causing you a puzzled expression.

“I’m so glad I asked to partner up with you…” You pulled away a few inches and Gwen giggled at your reaction before continuing, “I thought you were adorable, so I asked the professor to pair us up.”

You shook your head in playful disbelief before connecting your lips once again. This time, the kiss was a softer one, and you felt each other smile into it. Not only did you look forward to completing your class project together, as well as having her play the role of your muse, but you had a feeling you would be seeing much more of Gwen long after their completion.

#gwen x reader #gwen in fabric #in fabric #in fabric movie #gwendoline christie #my fics

[blackmarketvoices]

The 2024 Malevolent Madness Mixup event just concluded with a slew of astounding collaborative works! So, it's time to celebrate them with...

✨BMV & MMM Collab: Twitch Stream Days✨

All fics will be reviewed, however, the first week's fics will be read blind by the voice actors at Black Market Voices! The second week will have excerpts read aloud. All art will be shown on the stream unless otherwise requested by the artist! All times in EST Blind Reads

✨Sun April 14, 7-10pm - Of Shadow and Simplicity / War at Home ✨Tues April 16, 730-10pm - Waters of Leophryne ✨Wed April 17, 7-10pm - God of Cowboys and Fools ✨Fri April 19, 7-10pm - Toe Tags and Second Chances / The Cost of Indomitability ✨Sun April 21, 7-10pm - And In Blood Is Born Anew

Reviews & Excerpts

✨Mon April 22, 7-10pm - Fics: Lasc1are_Su0nare / Blood and Sand ✨Tues April 23, 7-10pm - Fic: In Golden Gags ✨Wed April 24, 7-10pm - Fics: (Help Me) I've Got No Soul To Sell / Sillage ✨Fri April 26, 7-10pm - Fic: The Moon Had Turned To Gold

Please join us to celebrate these amazing events works! Event will be held on twitch at vmprsm

We look forward to seeing you there!

#malevolent madness mixup #mmm #mmm2024 #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fanart #malevolent fanfic #malevolent event #twitch #twitch stream #black market voices #bmv #BMV & MMM Collab: Twitch Stream Days #collab #colalboration

[kairiscorner]

I couldn't get the link to copy, so here's my first (and probably terrible) attempt at doing an image ID

A light mode tweet by aphorafterdark[black heart emoji]🔞. It reads: "It's possible to ruin a fictional man's pussy AND do an intellectual deep dive into his character trauma and motivations, and I'm sick of seeing takes implying that us horny bastards aren't also serious scholars of a canon." The tweet has 1,932 retweets, 175 quote retweets, and 5,559 likes. End ID

I hope this helps

OHHHH THANKS !! lmao yeah miggy does have the right to be horrified 😭😭😭 i'm sorry if this isn't what you asked for, but i do hope you enjoy it !!

original ask: "So you know that screenshot of a tweet that complains about horny fans not being taken seriously by the rest of the fandom? So my idea is this: a y/n who's from a universe where Miguel and the like are fiction, and she's scrolling through her dash when Miguel walks past and sees it. He's slightly horrified, and his reaction's absolutely hilarious for y/n who isn't even fazed by the screenshot. IDK if this is completely in your boundaries, but since the iffy stuff is only mentioned, it shouldn't hurt to ask. If you're not comfortable doing it, could you point me in the direction of an author who is?"

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

content warnings! mild mentions and suggestions of... not so family-friendly stuff ^^

"what in the–puta madre, what is that?" miguel asks as he squints and asks lyla to fetch his reading glasses for him. the AI summons them immediately on his desk and he scrambles for them as he looks at what you showed him on your phone. you chuckled at miguel's reaction, it was just like yours when you first happened upon tweets of people from all kinds of dimensions that know about the dimension you and the others lived in, it's just that to these netizens, you guys were fiction–imaginary works.

you happened upon them again as you went through your feed, and miguel glanced over at what you were looking at because you chuckled a little at the tweet. he got curious, and because you were such a nice friend, you showed it to him all nonchalantly. "'i want miguel o'hara to blank me in the blank until i memorize every vein, until my uterus is the shape of his blank, until i see different galaxies, and comfort him about his traumas. i can psychoanalyze this motherfucker while giving him the best head ever'–what the fuck is wrong with these... ay, puta." he read aloud as you erupted in peals of laughter.

"man, earth-1218 is crazy. i love how much they love you, miggy." you teased him as miguel tiredly walked over to his desk and muttered to lyla if him finding that tweet and all these forms of suggestive, horny, perverted yet somehow sympathetic, comforting, and rational media out there on the internet of earth-1218 is a canon event, to which she said, "big shock yeah man, it had to happen."

miguel sighed as you found even more interesting things on your feed, and all of it was about miguel's less traumatic, but still very horrifying, canon event of discovering internet people want to fuck with and discuss all about his character. "am i just that, a character on a screen, on a comic book for these... desperate, horny, yet so... insightful people?" he asked underneath his breath as you showed lyla some interesting 18+ art if him. "looks like they tried to get it right, though i know you're... a lot bigger than that." "not another word." he said as he said as he ran a hand across his face and sighed deeply.

looks like he won't be visiting earth-1218 for a while.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @jrrantss @fictarian @yuridopted0 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse imagines

[okay-j-hannah]

You Give Them Neck Kisses

Preference

Characters: Loki, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Warnings:

Request: “What do you think about Loki, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black reacting to neck kisses and a good massage (when they're stressed and tired)? I love my boys 💜💜💜💜 But It's okay if you don't want to write it cause that request is overused 😅” Anon

~~~

Loki

The sky of Asgard was painted with rich colors – swirling masses of black and blue. Stars dotted the surface as if a paintbrush flecked the canvas with a white spray. A galaxy could be seen in the distance, clouds of rose gold whirling in an imaginative pattern.

(Y/N) stood against the marble balcony, draped in emerald silks, and waiting for a meteor shower. Or her prince.

The bedroom door creaked open, and a dramatic groan of exhaustion came forth.

Loki walked in already removing his royal garments. Shoulder pads, arm braces, capes, and armor, until he was down to his pants and a light tunic. “The courtroom is abominable.”

(Y/N) slowly turned from the art gallery sky to watch him crash on the bed. He bounced on the mattress as he covered his face with his hands. He groaned again.

“Was it?” She was amused by his dramatics.

He held out one of his hands to call her over, moaning, “I need you.”

She took careful steps, “With all your moaning and groaning, I’m tempted not to help you.”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“You’re being fussy.”

“When have I ever been known to fuss?”

She laughed under her breath, beginning to crawl over the bed, “You are the fussiest prince I know.” She straddled his torso, brushing back his hair, “My poor baby.”

He looked on the brink of scolding her for the teasing, but he stopped, instead taking her hand and kissing the palm of it. She shut her mouth – clearly he was more exhausted than she thought.

After a moment of silence she put both hands into his hair, raking her fingers through the dark strands to his scalp. She massaged there, a spark of warmth seeping into her stomach to see him close his eyes at the feeling.

He let out a low groan, less whiney now and more out of relief. “Delightful, my love.”

She went further, bending down to kiss his temple, slow and full. He sighed heavy and it made her smile.

“My tired baby,” she whispered, lightly kissing down his face and to his jaw all the while massaging his scalp. “Just need a little love.”

She kissed beneath his jaw harder than his cheek, open mouthed and nipping. She sucked until another groan was drawn from him.

“What was that?” she said with a wicked grin.

He lifted a finger to her lips, shushing her, “Don’t stop.” He opened his eyes to take in her beautiful face, almost pleading when he added, “Please.”

Remus

The common room was toasty with the fire smoldering low. The only two still awake and occupying the space was (Y/N) and Remus. Him sitting on the red velvet couch and her sitting on the ground beside his legs.

His fingers were down by her head, playing with a strand of her hair.

“What am I to do with James and Sirius?” he asked, thinking aloud.

(Y/N) closed the chapter of Herbology she was supposed to be reading for homework. “You mean about their ploy to steal the House Cup out of Slughorn’s office?”

“They’re going to get into some real trouble.”

“You can’t control everything they do,” she mused, turning to rest her chin on his knee. He looked stressed and tired, as if a full moon was approaching. But she knew they were at the start of a new moon cycle and out of danger.

“I was made a Prefect for a reason,” he said quietly, “They think me the reasonable one.”

(Y/N) stood and rounded the couch, “You need to work on your worrying.” She leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck, “We’re supposed to be enjoying the evening together.”

“You’re right,” he said, lifting a hand to grab her arm. He closed his eyes and leaned back into her, “You’re always right.”

“Precisely,” she said, snuggling her head against his, eyeing a sweet spot below his ear. “And I know just the right way to stop you worrying.”

“Hm?” he hummed. He was already mesmerized with her movements, feeling his skin tingle where her lips spoke against his ear.

She ran the tip of her nose down his ear and latched her lips to just below it. Remus opened his mouth with an audible intake of breath. It made her smile as she pressed tender, lingering kisses to his skin.

“Bet you can’t think of anything now,” she murmured, nudging his head to the side. Remus gave in instantly, exposing the rest of his neck with an eager moan.

She trailed a line of wet kisses down his neck and to his shoulder. He was making wonderful, delectable sounds as she settled just above his collarbone.

“What were we talking about earlier?” she questioned, sucking on his skin and then running her tongue over it to soften the hurt.

He sounded breathless when he said, “I don’t know.”

“Good,” she whispered, “Only think of me. Only think about how this feels.” And she took his chin, pulling his face to hers. He was flushed by the time she kissed him on the lips.

Sirius

“Thomas Thornton asked me to go with him on the next Hogsmeade trip.”

Sirius, already exhausted from a day filled with two detentions and Snape managing to trip him during a duel, wasn’t in the mood to listen to his long-standing crush discuss possible dates with other boys.

He had a dark shadow over his face, his eyes almost black. There was a visible tension taking over him that (Y/N) didn’t see when he first entered the room.

His fists were clenched, and his jaw set when he replied, “What did you say?”

She looked at him tersely, “That I’d think about it.”

Sirius nodded, staring her down. It was rather unsettling to see him so stressed.

“Are you all right, Sirius?” she asked, “You don’t look well.”

He swallowed, “Just had a long day.” And he ran a hand down his face and around his neck, rubbing the ache there.

She looked concerned, “Why don’t you sit down,” she gestured to the nearby armchair. “Relax.”

Sirius took a deep breath and did as he was told, slouching in the chair. He put two fingers to the bridge of his nose but was suddenly jolted by the feeling of (Y/N)’s hands on his shoulders, massaging the tense knots.

“What happened today?” she asked sincerely.

He blinked a few times, “Nothing I want to talk about.” He finally closed his eyes at the relief by her hands, lulling his head down and groaning, “That feels good.”

The rasp of his voice sent a flurry of heat through her body, prompting her to keep going – do something more.

She licked her lips, leaning down to be near his ear, “I don’t want to go to Hogsmeade with Thomas Thornton.”

He mumbled his confusion, too focused on her fingers, “Then why didn’t you tell him that?”

“Because,” her lips were practically against his cheek, “I was waiting for someone else to ask me first.”

He opened his eyes in slight surprise, though didn’t want to move and ruin the moment. He felt her lips against his skin, tentative and sweet, and it was doing things to him. He moved his cheek towards her mouth, giving her the hint.

And she took it, placing a chaste, hot kiss there.

He tried to control his voice, leaning to the side to give her more access to his neck, “Oh? And who might that be, I wonder.”

She was still being shy, pressing another small kiss lower on his neck, speaking low and tickling his skin, “You can’t be that dense.”

Sirius laughed low and deep in his chest, loving the heat of her lips on him. And when she plucked the courage to plant a heavy, suffocating kiss along his pulse, Sirius let out a growl, reaching for her arms and pulling her into the chair.

She sat on his lap, flushed as she found the lust in his eyes. He grabbed her chin, “I won’t ask you until you kiss me properly.”

And of course she did.

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @cameleonfrenzy @shyposttree  @chiefqueef22 @potters-heart @wife-of-mikoto-suoh @nicole-survivor @dilflover10 @mrskatpotter  @katlovesall  @unknownfacelessstuff  @andreasworlsboring101 @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @appreciating-chase-brody @multifandomfix @murder-swan​ @mxacegrey  @girl-lost-not-found​

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

#loki #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x reader #Marvel MCU #marvel cinematic universe #loki marvel #marvel loki #marvel #young remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #harry potter fandom #harry potter #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black #young sirius black

[hlizr50]

Realized I didn't post this here. So if any of you missed it, you're welcome!

This drabble was inspired, once again, by the amazing art of elizianna.the.one on Instagram. Check out the art here!

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

“I have one more thing.”

To say she was a nervous wreck was a heinous understatement. Even as she and Ruhn had exchanged baubles and clothes and giggles wrapped in shiny paper and curled ribbon, her stomach had twisted and tangled until she was sure her insides would never escape the knots they were in.

Lidia had known it was crazy; fuck, it was nothing short of insanity. But as she scurried to her purse — the only safe place in the house — and pulled the flat, square box from the center pouch, a sense of rightness filled her. They’d discussed it at length, neither of them certain of their bodies’ capabilities. And after five years of avoiding all contraception, and a little thing she liked to think was fate, it was time to grab her mate’s hand and jump.

The shifter returned to her prince, holding the gift out to him. It wasn’t very large; in fact, she’d used a box that had held a bracelet that Ruhn had given her for her birthday. How could something so monumental fit into a little square no wider than his broad, calloused palm? Worrying her lower lip, Lidia watched as he pulled the wintergreen wrapping away and lifted the lid. She hadn’t sat down, couldn’t stand the waiting and definitely couldn’t sit still.

Time slowed to a crawl, it must have. That was the only explanation for how long it took for Ruhn to pull the folded paper away from the box, revealing a small photo. Gods, she would never tire of how her heart swelled at the precious little vision.

“What is…” The Valbaran prince’s honeyed voice faded as he unfolded the document, the paper crinkling between his inked fingers. Lashes fluttering as she read the words printed across the top for what had to be the hundredth time, she leaned in and snatched up the little photograph, holding it over her stomach, right where Ruhn’s eyes would find it once he’d read all the black and white.

She hadn’t expected those indigo orbs, sparkling with twinkling stars and the sheen of building emotion, to immediately find her instead. Ruhn’s stare was wide-eyed and beautiful, his jaw slack, perfect lips parted in what Lidia hoped was awe, but could very well just be shock.

“I know it’s crazy,” she started, her fingertips tapping over the little picture she held, “and it’s going to sound so stupid. But…” Her voice cracked, and the shifter had to take a breath and blink back her tears, though one managed to escape the batting of her eyelids. Looking down at her prince, her hero, flabbergasted as he may be, she was able to find her words again.

“Her name is Dawn. And… and it just felt like fate.”

Gods, when she said it aloud it sounded so incredibly irresponsible and idiotic. Who in their right mind would adopt a child, adorable and precious as she was, simply because of her name? Hel, the little bundle was Mer, for fucks sake! Ruhn would have every right to lift a skeptical eyebrow and inquire about her mental state.

And still, Ruhn said nothing. Did nothing. It only drew more explanation from her lips, the rambling words bursting from her mouth in a waterfall.

“We have a month. And I know that’s not very long. We’ll want to get a place closer to the river, or maybe even on the coast? And I figured Tharion could give us some advice, and—“

Whatever she was going to say next was stolen by Ruhn’s desperate kiss, her body trapped in the vice of his strong, tattoo-covered arms. Lidia’s shoulders sagged, releasing the tension she hadn’t even felt building as she’d plead for his understanding.

Not that she’d needed to. That much was clear when he pulled away and looked down into her eyes, his gaze full of love as his tears left shimmering trails over the chiseled angles of his cheeks.

“Her name is Dawn?” he croaked, his hand lifting to cup her cheek. The dam broke as she leaned into his gentle touch, nodding as she choked on a sob and lifted the photo between their mingling breaths. His eyes focused on the little Mer girl with her wild dark curls and chubby cheeks, then lifted to Lidia. Darted back and forth. His laugh was more of a disbelieving huff, but then he dipped his chin and pressed his lips to the picture.

“I love you, little girl,” he whispered, before flicking his silver-lined eyes back to the shifter. Pushing her hands back down, forcing her to lower the barrier between them, he murmured, “I hope she turns out just like her mama.”

His next kiss was full of promise and warmth, the hope of a future that she’d spent so many years certain she would never have. But here it was, the beginning of something new and infinitely precious. A new light, blinding as it breached the horizon.

Day. Night. Dawn.

Family.

#fanfiction #crescent city #sarah j maas #hoeab #hosab #hofas #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #cc2 #cc3 #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #ruhnlidia #ruhn x lidia #lidia x ruhn #ruhn danaan x lidia cervos #lidia cervos x ruhn danaan #daynight #nightbright #fluff #its so fluffy #Ruhn would be the squishiest dad #i love them #inspired by fanart

[sorchamidnite]

It only took two words to shatter Sorcha's world, in the end.

"I know."

Those were the only two that mattered, but Luciana had never been a great one for brevity. Seated - of course she was seated, her legs had given out under her years before her heart did - in one of the lower chambers of the ancestral palazzo, off the Calle dei Morti, in a room of gilt and ivory and rich glossy teak, in the queendom of her power, on this night of all nights, Luciana could wax as lyrical as she damn well liked.

"I know, tesoro, and I have known for years. Who drew your mind out of its manacles? Who read your thoughts aloud to he who wrote them back into you? You suspected there was something about you that was wrong, and I knew more than you know - I could make the guess while you were still feeling the new edge on your fangs. Oh," she said, seeing Sorcha tremble, pale as porcelain, "don't be afraid of me, tesoro - "

"I'm not afraid," Sorcha barked - surprising herself with the viciousness of it, as her patience snapped itself and whipcoiled across her mind. "I'm angry, nonna. You knew all along and I was so scared, and you didn't tell me, and I needed your help, I could hae - I could have started all this four years ago! I could hae - "

Sorcha's mouth snapped shut, as she remembered who she was talking to, and where she was, and what night of the year it was, and why she was there. Luciana's arched brow and affable, easy, haughty smile reminded her.

"It's whatever," said Sorcha, settling herself, brushing her knees. "Long game, right?"

"The long game, indeed. You had to come to the conclusion yourself, and the moment of choice, and the decision - and you sit here, and address yourself to me thus, and that speaks to the decision you have made."

Does it? thought Sorcha, and "it does?" she said aloud.

"Naturally, I would like you to remain here," said Luciana, and Sorcha's face froze. She swallowed, took a moment to compose herself - one outburst she could get away with, two would test the anziana's indulgence.

"With respect, nonna Luciana, I have tae decline your invitation - most gracious invitation as it is. My father, my family, they need me - my city, my people, they need me - my sisters, my lover - " and as Luciana stirred in her chair and made to speak, Sorcha rose from her own and knelt on the shining hardwood, pressed both her hands into Luciana's lap and looked up at her with the widest eyes she could muster.

"I can't leave them all, nonna, no matter how much I love you, no matter how much I want tae be with you. And I don't - I can't be like you, either. I thought I could but I can't. I'm not like you. The Black Art doesna come easy tae me. I have tae work at it. That's why I am - " and she wiped her eyes, and kept talking.

"That's why you're wrong about me. I choose both. I am Dunsirn, an' your grandchilde, an' I'm Duskborn, an' I am gonnae crack the one wide open wi' the other. Build wide, no' tall. Hack, cheat, an' backdoor my way intae somethin' you can't do, 'cause you're the best there is at what you do an' there can't be two of us."

Sorcha sniffed, and added: "Please don' kill me? My boyfriend'll be furious."

Luciana's grave face, rich and rotten as her city, lean and sallow and old, cracked into an autumnal laugh: cold, and chilly, and clammy. It thrilled through Sorcha's head and over her skin and down into her knees and fixed her where she knelt.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, tesoro," she said. "I had you in mind for another Nadia, but you would pine far more, and for far better reason. I would bind you to me and keep you at my hip for a century, but what would you learn from me, save all that I already know? And as you say, you are something new, and rare, and special. But..."

There was always going to be a but.

"We are in Venice, my grandchilde, and we are here on the sufferance of the Promise and the Prince."

It was always going to be bad. If Luciana invoked the Camarilla, she was going to do something she didn't want to take the blame for -

"As such, I will permit you to leave only on their sufferance, and in accordance with their customs."

Dark water, rising. The green, salty, opaque of the lagoon. And Sorcha's heart on fire, burning, burning, burning as the quicksilver tore into her skin -

Sorcha understood her dreams, at last.

#ooc

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: I Got Soul, But I’m Not A Soldier 

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI 

Fandom: Night Hunter 

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC  

Word count: 3K 

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film. 

Chapter Summary: Kamaria’s attackers are sentenced. Walter devises a plan. 

Chapter warnings: a teeny bit of court stuff (sentencing), angst, panic attack, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: I AM NOT A LAWYER, nor do I pretend to be one. I did a little research(pray for my search history), and that’s it. Suspend your belief a bit here, folks. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits 

Cross-posted on AO3 

~*~Spotify Playlist~*~ 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV 

One Month Later 

I never wanted this whole thing to end up a mini-circus. 

But that’s basically what ended up happening in the few short months since my abduction and assault.  

From the plethora of therapy appointments that both Walter and I have attended to the meetings with my legal team, I thought I was already bogged down with talking about what happened to me.

I told myself that no matter how many times I wrote it down or said it aloud, there was always going to be this piece of me that felt as though I could step right back into that nightmare but I wouldn’t allow myself to. 

I had done so much work to crawl out of that hole and I’ll be damned if I put even a toe back into that deep, dark space ever again. 

But the moment Walter and I stepped into the courthouse today for sentencing, I could barely hold myself together. I knew I would have to see Justin again, which wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible. He was just another victim and if not for him, I would’ve never got the chance to escape. I might have never seen the love of my life ever again. 

I don’t owe him anything, I know that. It doesn’t make it feel any better knowing he’s going to be facing jail time. And it all stemmed from his involvement with a man who turned my life upside-down. 

Lloyd Hansen. 

His face haunted my dreams. His words haunted Walter. And his actions changed our lives forever. I wanted him to be tortured in some far-off dungeon where no one would be able to hear him scream. I needed him to feel broken, lost, and alone.  

I knew the judge wouldn’t give him the death penalty but I would have loved to have seen him get a lethal injection of Pavulon, potassium chloride, and midazolam. I fantasized about the midazolam failing to sedate him. Maybe the Pavulon kept him immobile while he felt the suffocating feeling of fluid in the lungs. And the potassium chloride without a sedative? The lava slowly tearing through his veins would be unimaginable pain. 

But that daydream would never come to life. I mean, all he did was kidnap and rape me. Let’s not get started on the unfairness of the American legal system. I could be here all day long. 

The uncomfortable wooden bench under me wasn’t enough to distract me from where I was. Walter in my ear with soothing words didn’t stop me from staring at the back of Lloyd’s head the entire time. My worry about what they would do to Justin didn’t stop me from feeling like he deserved to be punished. He still acted in my worst interest whether or not he thought he was doing some version of the right thing by helping me escape. 

I barely pay attention until the sentencing is read. Walter grips my hand tight and I focus my energy on watching the two men stand before the judge to get their lashings. I could tell he wants to bury Lloyd, and he feels somewhat sad for Justin but he would not let it sway his judgment. I take a deep breath and listen as their fates were decided. 

Justin is sentenced to 16 years with the possibility of parole for drug possession and being an accomplice to kidnapping. He cries loudly as the officers take him away. 

Lloyd is sentenced to 70 years without the possibility of parole for criminal sexual conduct in the second degree, rape in the second degree, and kidnapping in the second degree. He smiles, looking back at me to wink before he is taken away. 

Relief was too small of a word for what I felt. It was more like liberation, emancipation, or deliverance. The massive weight of anxiety fell off of my shoulders as if it wasn't glued to me for the past few months. 

My eyes become blurry with unshed tears, I try and blink them away but they fall down my cheeks before I can stop them. Clearing my throat, I try desperately to calm myself but nothing works. I hiccup, my breathing stuttering as I fail at stopping a panic attack from starting. 

Before I know it, Walter is ushering me out into a small room just outside the courtroom. His hands are on my face and he is speaking slowly and clearly, knowing my brain is catching up to the here and now. 

“It’s over, Kam. We never have to see those bastards again. You’re safe with me.” He kisses my forehead and my breathing slows as if it was a button to be pressed, “Are you here with me?” 

I hear his question and look up into his eyes, “I wanna go home. I want you to help me forget all about this. I just wanna be with you and not think about anything else, please?” 

“Of course, Princess.” No sooner are the words out of his mouth is my hand in his and he is walking me out of the room. 

We speak shortly with my attorney, or rather, Walter speaks for me as I'm still a bit in shock at everything. Once hands are shaken and goodbyes are said, we make our way out of the courtroom and out of the courthouse.  

We make it to Walter’s truck and as I get in, I realize how hot he looks in a suit. As he walks around the front, he pulls off his blazer. The way his dress shirt clings to his strong back, wide chest, and defined arms has me salivating. Inside the cab, he notices me staring. 

“What?” He nervously chuckles and his eyebrows shoot up. 

“You clean up nice, you know? I mean, you are sexy in a suit.” I can’t believe I was so anxious this morning that I didn’t notice how the blue in his tie brought out his eyes. 

A pink hue colors the tips of his ears and his neck. I just made Walter Marshall blush. As if reading my mind, he looks around before his eyes come back to me. Biting his lip, he shakes his head. 

“Princess, we are not fucking in this parking structure. As much as I want to bend you over the bed of this truck and fuck you until your moans are bouncing off of the cement walls, I’d much rather have you in bed or the couch or the dining room table.” 

“But Daddy, I want you.” My hand slides over my thigh and underneath the skirt of my dress. 

“You think I don’t want you, babygirl?” He takes my other hand and places it over his hardening length, “I want nothing more than to be inside you. But I’m taking us home first.” He starts the truck and moves out of the spot, starting us on the road home. 

“Yes, Daddy.” I concede, my fingertips touching the gusset of my panties where a wet spot is forming, “Daddy, can you drive with one hand?” I try and get him to touch me in one last hopeful effort. 

Without looking away from the road, his right hand comes to rest on my thigh and gives it a good squeeze. Slowly moving between my legs, he cups my pussy and then moves a single finger up and down the front of my panties. 

He presses a finger in til he feels my clit and rubs there a bit. My moans fill the cab of his truck and I lean back in my seat. Sliding his finger down, he moves my panties to the side to feel the evidence of my arousal. He removes his fingers and sucks them into his mouth before returning them to my entrance. Pressing in, he is welcomed by my wet heat. Starting a rhythm, he oscillates between steady strokes and clit stimulation. 

Before long, we are close to home. During the final stretch of streets, he slows down right as I could feel my orgasm approaching. 

“Fuck, you are absolutely soaked. Poor little pussy really needed some attention. Just hold it for a little longer baby. I’ll let you cum soon enough.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” I moan, my brain tries to keep up but it’s just too flustered with a pre-orgasmic stupor. I don’t even notice that we make it home and are in the driveway until I feel his fingers slip free.  

He reaches his hand up to my lips and I suck them dry, tasting myself on his thick fingers. He grips himself through his slacks and takes his hand away. He looks me up and down then exits the truck. Walking around the front, he keeps his eyes down, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding them up those veiny forearms. Once he reaches the passenger side, he helps me out and closes the door behind me. 

With a giant paw wrapped around my hand, I am being led into the house quickly. As soon as the front door closes, Walter lifts me off my feet and wraps my legs around his waist. Walking the distance to the bedroom, he reaches a hand behind me to unzip my dress. 

He puts me down in the bedroom, and my dress pools at my feet. He kneels to help me step out of the dress. My bra and panties were the next to go. I stand in front of him in a simple pair of black heels. 

“Any objection to the heels staying on?” He asks, letting a new fetish be known. 

“No, Daddy,” I murmur, suddenly struggling to keep myself together given that he is fully clothed and I am in my birthday suit. 

“Good. Sit down and open those legs wide for Daddy, Princess.” His hands roam from my ankles to my inner thighs before he kneels between my open legs.  

Walter’s POV 

Using my thumbs to open her outer labia delicately, I'm pleased to see her honey dripping. She was so worked up in the truck and this poor little pussy is ready to burst. 

But not yet. I’m going to tease it first. 

I gather some of her juices on a finger and swirl it around her clit, but I never quite make contact with the swollen bundle of nerves. I kiss her inner thighs and nip at them which always makes her groan and I am once again showered in her sex noises. She has the best fucking sounds. From her words to the sounds her body makes, it’s all beautiful. 

I move my finger to circle her entrance and slip in slowly. Her hands go to her breasts, she knows I haven’t given her permission to touch me yet. She also knows that grabbing my hand will only stop my movements. But she is always allowed to touch herself while I’m taking care of her cunt. 

Her tight heat envelops my finger and I move in and out of her folds. It’s torturously slow and I can feel her body trembling with the anticipation that I’ll either speed up or add another finger.  

When I don’t do either, she wiggles her hips and whines. The quick slap to her clit has her remembering to use her words. 

“Daddy, can you please use two fingers? Please? I need it,” The sound of her begging is music to my ears. 

Instead of answering, I wet another finger in her nectar and slide it in slowly to let her adjust to the thickness. The immediate squeeze around my fingers is mind-blowing. I can feel her inner muscle on my fingertips and I massage it gently, but not enough to let her cum. 

Leaning in, I circle my tongue around her clit as my finger did before. Only this time, I relent and give her clit sharp flicks with my tongue. She’s putty in my hands and that’s how I like it.  

All she needs is me, and all I need is her. 

I take her nub into my mouth and suck it gently, still tonguing it ever so gently. With the mix of her in my mouth and on my fingers, it’s not long before my cock is hard as a rock and pressing against the front of my boxer briefs. 

I squeeze myself through my slacks and go back to eating this delicious pussy. I decide she can cum and I speed up my fingers and suck her bud harder. The moans that flow from her signal that she is close and I relish the change in the room when she finally lets go. 

Curling my fingers, I continue to stroke inside her as she rides out her orgasm. Giving kitten licks to her clit as her hips wiggle, no doubt feeling very sensitive. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that the more sensitive she is, the harder her next orgasm will be and I wanna feel that one on my dick. 

With my fingers still inside her, I stand up and unzip my slacks and pull out my painfully hard length. Pulling out of her warmth, I use that hand to stroke myself. I watch her as she watches me use her cum as lube.  

Moving her up the bed, I climb in. With one hand on her stomach, I use the other to position myself at her entrance. Sliding home, I groan at the sensation of her core molding to my girth.  

It is always so surprising that it never gets old. I love that first moment of being inside her. Letting her adjust to my fat dick for a moment, I pull back and push back in. I hold both of her thighs open so I have full range to fuck her. 

Pushing her legs back as far as they will go without hurting her, I start a punishing rhythm. The slap of our bodies moving together is a symphony. The movement of her breasts and stomach reminds me of an ocean wave ebbing and flowing. This woman is perfect, inside and out. 

Letting go of her legs, I lean down and kiss her passionately. Holding her close, I continue to fuck into her. In this position, I can stimulate not only her G-spot but her clit as well. 

It’s not long until I feel her breathing hitch and feel her pussy fluttering around me. Her moans turn into sobs as her orgasm takes over her. I grind my hips into hers and help her to stretch it out. 

I get back up on my knees, my hands on either side of her head. I look down into her eyes for a moment and resume kissing her cervix with my tip. She throws her head back and I take the opportunity to kiss and suck at her neck. Leaving lovebites behind isn’t usually my style.  

But anything goes today. And she is gonna have to try and cover up evidence of my love. On her espresso skin, I have to suck very hard to leave a mark. Challenge accepted. 

Her hands are in my sweat-slicked curls before long and we reclaim eye contact. Something in her eyes draws me in and pretty soon, I am fighting to hold off my orgasm. 

Just like she always does, she comes to my rescue. 

“Daddy, I need your cum inside me. Please cum for me?” Her big brown eyes pierce through me like a fucking bullet and I’m done for. 

“I’m gonna cum for you, Princess. Fuck! Ugh,” With one last press forward, my balls tighten and I shoot my load into her greedy little snatch. I feel like I’m cumming for what feels like a full minute. 

I stay inside her, attempting to regain control of my body and my brain. She strokes the hair at the nape of my neck and I kiss over the already bruising spots on her dark skin. When my softening cock slips from her, I sit back on my heels to look at my handiwork. 

Her swollen pussy is leaking with my spend and I feel that swell of pride inside me. She’s nice and full because of me. I unconsciously rub at her stomach as I watch my jizz leak and I feel her hand on mine. 

She just smiles at me as I look into her eyes. There is something behind that smile, but I don’t have enough brainpower to work through it right now. I lay next to her and pull her into my arms. I listen as her breathing evens out and she falls asleep shortly after. 

Looking down at her, I wipe my thumb across her brow and she stirs a bit before settling back to sleep. I smile and try to get my brain to work, but it’s to no avail. She’s wiped me out and I couldn’t be happier. 

There are a few things that would make me happier. But all in due time. I figure I’ll start small and work my way up. 

Step 1: Ask her to move in with me because she already basically lives here. 

Step 2: Ask her to be my wife because I already made up my mind that she is the love of my life. 

Step 3: Ask her to make a baby with me because she’s so great with Faye and seeing that belly of hers swollen with my child would make me so happy. 

But I will worry about all that later. We can take our time with everything. Neither of us is very keen on rushing things. But one thing is for certain. 

We want to spend the rest of our lives together. That’s what matters. 

Chapter 12 (coming soon) 

A/N: Welcome back to my story. Haven’t posted since June. I missed my babies. Songs for this chapter are All These Things That I’ve Done by The Killers and Streets – Silhouette Remix by Doja Cat. 

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[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Fifteen

Dean immediately throws his hands up in the air as if he thinks I’m about to whip out a gun on him. “Woah woah hey, wait a second…”

“What are you doing here?” I demand, shocked by the invasion of my personal space. “You can’t just come to my house.”

“Okay, look, you weren’t texting back, I wanted to check that you were okay.”

I stand across from him with my arms crossed. “Well, here I am, I’m fine. What do you want?”

He gives me this loping smile that I’m sure he thinks is very charming and no doubt has practised in the mirror. He leans back against the iron railings. “I thought your housemate was lying when she said you weren’t home.”

“You rang the bell?”

“Yeah and she told me to go away.”

“I’m telling you to go away too.” I snip. “Don’t come to my house.”

He adopts a very concerned expression, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Evie, am I after doing something wrong? You just stopped talking to me after last weekend.”

“You got thrown out of my birthday party for being so fucked up, I didn’t feel comfortable texting you after seeing you like that.”

He sighs and rubs the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I know, I know, I messed up, I’ve just been going through a lot lately. I shouldn’t have gone to the party, I just really wanted to be there for you.”

I arch my eyebrow. “Did you.”

“Yes of course! And I know, I know that the present I got you was shite, in fact, it was an insult of a present and like, I got in trouble for stealing it from work and all, it just really wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well you can have the whiskey back if you want it. I never drank it.”

“Nah you can keep it. I deserved the trouble I got into.” His eyes get really big and soulful. “I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have to put up with me, or with anybody, who acts like that around you.”

I shift from one foot to the other and try to keep my chin up, hoping that I have the kind of look in my eye that might turn him into stone.

“I have your real present with me, if it’s any consolation.” He says, and I watch him dig through his backpack to produce something flat and square, wrapped in paper. He holds it out to me. “I should have given you this instead of the whiskey, and also, I should have come to the party sober. I won’t ever be like that around you again.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not really, you can tell me I’m a dickhead if you want.”

I don’t want to tell him that. Reluctantly I take the present. It’s heavy. “Will I open it in front of you or should I do it later?”

“Whatever suits you.”

So I flip it over and peel the sellotape at the back. He’s done a very neat job of it, like, it’s as though he actually sat down at a table and spent time cutting the paper straight, folding all of the corners into neat, perfect little points. “I have no idea what this might be” I admit. 

“Well I hope that you like it.”

I fold open the paper to reveal a large, square book. “The Art of Mulan.” I read aloud, and then my eyes flick to his. “This is my favourite movie.”

“I know, you told me before.”

“I did tell you… but it must have been ages ago.”

“Yeah it was but I remembered.” His eyes are steady on my face, watchful, even.

I smooth my hand over the cover, bright red with Mulan and her horse Khan in the centre painted in striking black ink, the letters of the title beautifully embossed with gold. Despite myself, I feel my animosity toward Dean begin to thaw, I’ve never been very good at staying angry with anybody. “Thank you.” I say. “This was really nice of you.” 

He shrugs and looks away bashfully. “Ah, well, you know, it was nothing really. When I saw it in the bookshop I thought of you straight away.” 

His words strike an immediate chord with me. He thought of me… But still, I’m on edge around him. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this. I tuck the book under my arm and start throwing glances at the door. “Well.” I begin. “I suppose I should go-”

“So I don’t suppose you want to talk more.” He interjects. “I feel like I have some serious explaining to do.”

I hesitate. “Well, Claire, my housemate and her boyfriend are upstairs. I don’t think they’d be very pleased if I showed up with you.”

A sigh. “Why? Did I make a fool out of myself in front of them too?”

I shrug and he puts his face in his hands. “Oh Christ. I’m actually such a bloody mess sometimes, that’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s alright, it wasn’t that bad, they’re just… a bit protective of me.” He keeps his face buried and I reach out to touch his arm in a stilted gesture of comfort. “Don’t worry about it Dean, honestly, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No, like not at all. It’s whatever. I was probably just being too sensitive.” 

He drops his hands and makes a sad face. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“Really. We can hang out, I just can’t really let you come in. Why don’t we go to the park instead?”

“Okay.” He says. “As long as you don’t mind the cold too much.”

“I don’t mind.” I promise. “Let’s do that, come on.” As we head down the snowy streets together I steal a quick glance up at the windows of the apartment, just in case somebody might be watching us go. 

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #romance #fiction #sims4 storytelling #sims 4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

[poohbea]

Hi Pooh, hope your having a good day or night. I have another request, I'm sorry blame my mind for having a lot of ideas for a lot of characters. Anyways can you do an Incubus Draken being accidently summands by a chubby witch reader who has recently gotten both nipples pierced and also clit pierced as well. All of the piercings are healed but due to having said piercing, she is very sensitive and always horny. 😁

HER SOUL BEGS FOR ME

art credit

wordcount: 3k

content: incubus!draken, chubby novice witch!reader, demon summoning, isabella piercing, nipple piercings, draken's skin is a purple (he's a demon sue me), black haired draken, he uses his tail as a restraint, wings, swearing, pet names (pretty and sweetheart), unprotected sex (use protection kids), fingering, biting, marking, praise, possessiveness, reader gets branded (you'll see)

— synopsis: as a novice witch you need to prove yourself to the coven in order to gain your full powers. however, your latest assignment is proving rather troublesome.

note from pooh: when i tell you i was so excited to make this omfg sha sha you're a genuis. you made me search up demon summoning rituals and i swear i heard God crying for me 😂😂. you always give me fic worthy reqs and as you can see by the wordcount it basically is one (it's a baby fic aw) but pls don't be shy i love to see you in my inbox with a new req, i want all your ideas!! also there will be a part 2!! my beta reader gave me an amazing idea for the next shenanigan incubus draken is gonna take reader on, ugh i'm so excited.

WARNING: this is smut, so please ensure you have your age visible on your account before interacting. Minors (below 18+), ageless and blank blogs will be BLOCKED

Hope you enjoy ♡ reblogs are greatly appreciated

“Okay, salt circle. Check. Six Candles. Check. Matches.” You pick up the small rectangular box and open it to check the contents. “Check. And offering…” Continuing to read from the spell book you dip your finger into the chocolaty filling of your sliced praline tart. Moaning happily at the sweetness on your tongue. “Check.”

You stood over your handy work proudly, watching the candles flicker softly in the darkness of your basement, breathing life into your summoning circle. Demon summoning was new to you as a novice witch, but it was a practice you’d need to master in order to ascend the ranks of your coven. It didn’t seem that hard, afterall you were able to get everything you needed from the grocery store. So it had to be simple, right?

Picking up the plate with a slice of your offering, you stepped over the sealed salt circle carefully, placing it beside the sixth candle at the centre of your chalked out inverted pentagram. It smelt faintly of lavender as you stepped back out.

“Alright and now for the chant.” You raise the book to read the innominate phrase and the rest of the instructions aloud, stopping at a sentence in bold red writing. “If there is a demon in particular you’d like to summon, envision them, their personality, etcetera. Your thoughts have a big influence on the type of demon that will enter your circle. Hmm, sounds simple enough.” For now you were aiming for a small sized demon. A child maybe, with wings and cute little horns. Ugh it would be so cute and easy to handle. Plus what child doesn’t like chocolate? 

Clearing your throat you begin. “Saecula saeculorum, come forth, come forth.” You repeated the phrase over and over to no avail. “Come on…” Another six times and nothing. On the verge of giving up you turn and take a bite out of the leftover tart sitting on the table with your other assortment of spell ingredients. “Dammit.” Growing bored and tiresome, your mind wanders to anything of entertainment, the first one being. 

“I wonder if I charged my vibrator…” Because you were sure going to need it to drown out the sinking feeling of your failure. “No, no, I can do this!” You huff, swallowing the dessert and moving back in front of the circle. With new found confidence you chant. “Saecula saeculorum, come forth, come forth!” A gust of wind tornados through the room, the chalked lines of the pentagram sparking into a tunnel of purple and red light. 

Low moans and high pitched screams sound from beyond the rosy specked lilac veil, a white circle forming in the centre of the pentagram. The tart and sixth candle are engulfed in a pool of light that forces you to shield your eyes. Wind howled through the confined space, picking up stray papers strewn across the table behind you. Your dress followed, the skirt lifting and fluttering around you. 

Then with the echo of a deep maniacal laugh, the wind ceased, the light faded and the scent of lavender dispersed. There was silence, then the smack of lips. 

“Well, what do we have here?” A haughty voice chimes. As you bring your hand away from your face, your heart nearly sinks to your feet. 

This was no small, child-like demon. In the circle sat a tall creature with male human-like features, its skin a deep shade of aubergine decorated in inky markings you couldn’t quite make out. Black bat-like wings tucked behind its lean body, eye’s gold and searing holes into your skull. He runs a clawed hand through midnight locks, revealing pointed heavily pierced ears. 

“W-Who are you?” You stutter, setting your spell book down on the table at the side of the room. “Why are you here?” 

“Really?” He scoffs. “You’re the one who called me.” He takes another bite from the tart slice you were only now just noticing between his dagger-like fingertips.

“No, I called a smaller demon. A child.” He laughs at your denial, licking chocolate from his  fingers. 

“Mm, from what I recall you weren’t thinking of a child, sweetheart.” His eyes shine brighter at the thought, the devious hues raking you up and down shamelessly. 

“But I was… oh fuck!” The vibrator. That was the last thing on your mind before you recited the chant. Shit, so what the hell had you summoned then? “What type of demon are you? I’ve never seen your kind before.”

He huffed a laugh, half smirking as he finished his dessert. “You’ve never seen an incubus before? Are you witches getting dumber by the century or is it just me?” 

“Don’t talk about us like that! Some of us are still learning.” The pout on your face only egged him on, his smirk growing at your poorly executed assertive facade. 

“And I suppose you’re one of them?” He gets to his feet, stretching his tattooed arms overhead, wings flexing simultaneously. 

“Look, this was a mistake. Let me just send you back and I’ll try this again another day.” You sigh, going to fetch your spellbook. 

“Oh, I don’t think so, pretty.” The growl makes your skin tingle, hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. 

You put your hand on the book, turning to face him with a faux look of courage. “And why the hell not?” 

In a flash he’s in front of you, a gasp escaping your lips as he towered over your small frame. “Because you forgot to close the salt circle.” His fangs shone under the dim light of the remaining candles strewn across your basement floor. His sinful smirk made you feel that much smaller, clutching onto your book for safety seeming futile as he closed the space between you. 

“Please, Mister Incubus, sir-“ 

“Draken.” He corrects.

“What?” 

His head tilts teasingly. “The name’s Draken, sweetheart. Remember it, because you’re gonna need it in a minute.” 

He lowers his head to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Mm.” Moaning softly he lets his inhumanly long tongue path its ways up your jaw, flicking at your earlobe. “You smell that?“ 

“W-What?” 

A hand snakes around your waist, pressing your chest against his. “That’s the smell of, sweet,” his other hand plays with the hem of your dress, fingertips grazing along your inner thigh. “Delicious,” he notices the way your breathing changes, how your nipples rub against him, hard and peaking through the thin material. No bra? Hm, this was going to be fun. “Undeniable lust.” He whispers the last words in your ear and revels in the whimper you let out. 

So sensitive already and he hasn’t even touched you. Well, not where he could most definitely sense you needed it. 

“I don’t-“ 

“You’re frustrated, mm, I can smell it on you. So much pent up frustration. Poor baby.” He chuckles darkly, grazing a talon along the seam of your underwear. “So you summoned a sex demon of all things, are you really that desperate?” 

Your mind was beginning to fog, thoughts and words jumbling into one. You wanted to deny it, all of it. You never intended this to be the outcome. No, you just wanted to practice. But you’d be lying if you told him he wasn’t speaking the truth. 

“No- I- I just wanted-“ 

His lips ghost over yours, nose brushing your own. “You wanted me. I heard you, your soul. Oh, the way it begged for me.” 

“That’s not true…” 

“Isn’t it?” Your heart beats in your throat as his eyes pierce yours, flaming gold. “Why are you horny then?” 

“I’m not!” Denial was the only way you could go, all other forms of logic thrown out the window the moment he stepped from that summoning circle. 

“So why’s your heart beating so fast?” He raises a brow, fingers getting dangerously close to your clit.

“Because I’m afraid?” 

“Mm, but that’s not the only reason now is it?” You were breathing each other, air exchanging on every inhale and exhale. He smelt like a crackling fire, deep and earthy like the depths of hell he came from, but underneath that was a faint scent of lavender.

“No.” Honestly you weren’t sure if you were denying him or answering his question. He was too close, touching you like he knew your body inside out. Heat radiating from his skin as he held you close. You swore you were going insane. 

“Tell me. What is it you want, princess?” His hand at your waist wraps itself tamely around your throat, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Tell me your deepest, darkest desires.” 

“I-I need you.” You relent, air being sucked from your lungs as you speak.

“Where?” 

He growls as you take hold of his wrist, pressing his free hand flush against your clothed core. “P-Please.” 

“How can I refuse such a polite request?” His hands find purchase on the back of your thighs, talons tickling the skin. “Jump.”

You comply without question, gasping when your back hits the table suddenly, the clatter of vials and books sounding soon after. Your feeble mortal mind failed to recognise just how fast he was, even in his arms it felt like a blink. 

He laughs deeply when you shy away, hiding in your hands. It was unnerving how he ate you up with his eyes, taking in the supple curves of your body. You were a perfect canvas, so easy to mould, to shape into the perfect vessel. 

“Mm mm,” He tsks, taking both your hands in his. You notice a black wisp in the corner of your eye. It was a long and whip-like appendage, smooth and sleek as it wraps around your wrists. It’s only when he uses it to pin your hands above your head, do you realise it’s his tail. “Let’s keep those out of the way.” Gripping the neckline of your dress he splits it down the middle effortlessly, the fabric ruffling beneath you. 

“Draken.” You whine, nipples hard in the cool air, exposed and sensitive. 

“Nipple piercings? My, my, this just keeps getting better and better.” His long tongue trails from the curve of your plush stomach to the valley of your breasts, his eyes never wavering as he holds your gaze. Dipping his head he envelops a perky bud, tongue swirling and hot against you. 

His presence only intensified the sensitivity sparking across your skin, like fuel to a fire as he ran rampant over your body. “Fuck.” Your hiccuped moan makes him nip at your skin, drawing more of the sounds he craved from your lips. 

So caught up in his mouth you don’t notice his claws retract at your thighs, pads of his fingers collecting the wetness that’s already soaking through the cotton of your underwear. He wasn’t surprised, you reeked of desperate arousal. Months of desire and salacity he was more than happy to feed on. 

Your back arches as he dips two fingers inside your divine fountain of lust, slick aiding his journey deep within. As he’s about to lay his thumb on your clit he stops, feeling the metal bulbs prod at his fingertips. “Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose.” 

“I’m s-sorry- ah!” He chuckles as he softly pinches the bud between his fingertips, swallowing your whimper with the dip of his tongue between your lips. 

“So sensitive.” His growl sends a spark up your spine, thighs trembling at the heavy blanket of carnality threatening to suffocate you.

He’d reduced you to an empty-minded gasping mess, nails digging into your palms as he played. He was familiarising himself with you, all of you, your sounds, your expressions, the way you’d squeeze around him with each slight prod of his index and middle finger. Just how much you could take before you failed to kiss him back? Before your mind went blank, only to be filled with the haze of pleasure?

“D-Draken!” You gasped, chest heaving as his teeth captured your bottom lip. “‘Ken, please more!” 

Your greed was filling, the flavour sweet and intoxicating as it flooded his senses. Emotions, although invisible to mortals, were very much palpable to demons. It was easy to breathe it in, to lap it off the surface of your lips - of your skin. To let it flow through his body like a drug administered by a syringe. 

“That's it, pretty. Give into sin.” His breath puffs against your cheek, your own doing the same to his. “Let it take you.” He senses the knot tangled in the pit of your stomach, fingers pulling it tighter as they pulse against your g-spot.

“I-I… fuck I-I can’t, please, ‘Ken!” Your hips rocked in time with his movements, your body showing him exactly how to please you. 

“Yes you can, sweetheart.” His mouth lowers to your ear, his own keen to the sounds escaping your lips. “Give in to me.” 

There was still a part of you that held back, a sliver of resistance that prevented him from taking hold fully. Reluctance he’d be sure to indulge in when he finally snuffed it out once and for all.

You grew incoherent as he pushed you further, fingertips encompassing your clit mercilessly, piercing rolling between them. His patience was wearing thin the longer this took, the knot he so effortlessly entwined stagnant with no signs of unravelling. You were a strong one, he’ll give you that. He liked a challenge, it just made it all the more satisfying to see you break. 

His movements halt, snapping you out of your euphoric state almost instantaneously. You watched him through your lashes, his tail flicking at his side as it unbinds your wrists. He looks at you with steely determination, golden eyes burning into your own. His breath brushes your lips, head tilting as he examines you silently, wading through the darkest depths of your mind. 

It was interesting what you could read through the eyes, they were the windows to the soul after all. And your soul… your soul craved him. “Tell me.” He whispers to it, watching it flicker like a flame in the breeze. His hands settle in the crease of your thighs, teasing and eager. 

“Fuck me, please.” An abrupt breeze hums past your ear before the coolness of the concrete floor greets your skin. He lays you within the broken summoning circle, hips settling into yours as he hovers over you, wings resting around you both in a loose makeshift cocoon. 

“Say it again.” He breathes, tail wrapping itself around your ankle, bulge already nudging at your puffy clit.

“Fuck-” The sudden tap of his cock against your entrance elicits a gasp from your lips, your thighs instinctively closing around his waist. 

His tail pries you open again, running his tip through the glossy arousal pooled between your folds. “Speak, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck me… please.” His eyes shimmer as you exchange a breath, the candied zest of your desire melting on his tongue. 

Without another word he’s delving into the heat of your cunt, moaning as your velvety walls embraced him. His hands beside your head claw at the concrete beneath, abdomen flexing as he began a languid pace.

Ripples flutter across your skin with each thrust, your weak cries echoing through the basement as your nails dug into his lower back. “Draken!” His name was the only thing on your tongue, mind blank and teeth trapping your bottom lip harshly. 

The knot was bound again, tighter than ever as you squeezed him at every inch. He drank up every delicious twine of emotion that permeated from your flushed skin. Your divine in every way, the meal he’d been craving for the last two hundred years he spent rotting in hell. He wouldn’t go back, he couldn’t, not if this was what awaited him on earth. 

“You are mine and I am yours.” He growls into your neck, pace hastening. 

“I-I…” He needed to hear it fall from your lips, to declare to all those residing in hell that this soul was his and his alone. 

“Say it.” His teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, possessiveness overshadowing any form of control he had left. “Tell me who you belong to?”

“You, Draken.” You whine, his chest pressing against yours as he drives himself deeper, harder, faster. 

“And who do I belong to?”

Your hand tangles in his hair, the other clawing deep into his back. “Me. You are mine and I am yours.” With those final words you felt a searing pain just below your sternum, a hiss bleeding through gritted teeth as heat flooded your chest. “Fuck, what’s happening?” 

He ignores your question, fingers finding the perk bud of your clit, encircling it as he drives you to the edge. He tugs on the knot, harder and harder till he feels it snap and you’re unravelling in a tense shivering mess beneath him. A growl escapes him as you bite into his shoulder, legs wrapping around his waist forcing him to suffer the unforgiving wrath of your tight cunt. He submits to her willingly, offering his seed in silken ropes, his balls tightening with each throb of his cock. 

Heavy breaths were exchanged in each other’s necks, bodies hot and veiled in sweat that glistened in the candlelight. The heat in your chest dissipates as quickly as your initial orgasm does, the aftershocks making your legs jerk as Draken continues to play with your clit, relishing in the whines and cries of overstimulation that fall from your lips.

“I could get used to this for a century.” He mutters against your skin, inhaling the perfume he only now knew you were wearing, 

“What do you mean for a century?” You chuckle, mindlessly playing with his hair. “You can’t stay here, I told you I summoned you by accident.”

“Well you should’ve thought of that before making a pact with a demon, sweetheart.” You can hear the amusement in his voice as his fangs nip at your ear. 

“What? When did I…” He lifts himself onto his palms opening a space between your chests. One big enough for you to see the large black symbol tattooed into your skin just below your sternum. “Fuck! No, not again!”

Draken laughs deeply, brushing his nose against yours. “You are mine and I am yours, pretty. Till your death do us part.”

tags: @gardenof-venus, @sailewhoremoon, @okhotel, @xharia, @sakinotfound

© poohbea, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. if you intend to translate any of my works please ask permission first ♡

#⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ pooh’s reqs ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ #i've been slowly chipping away at this for a while im glad she's done #i'd lost my smut writing mojo for a little bit but i got it back just for this #i owe you that much sha sha #tokyo revengers draken #draken x y/n #draken smut #draken #draken x reader #draken x female reader #draken x chubby reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tr #tr draken #tr smut #tokrev

[mr-i-dont-care-sick]

I had a dream about madness combat and decided to transform this fanfic because I really liked the idea

sorry if the reader is sounding like an oc

Madness combat x artist reader

well, it all starts in a mission of the three Grunts, Hank, Deimos and Sanford, things were going well in the mission, Deimos and Sanford walked out of the facility with the mission ended, but there was no sign of Hank around, Deimos ends up finding the man of the red glasses that looked at a wall

—Hey Hank, what are you looking at over there?— Deimos says approaching Hank, he notices Hank's gaze and looks at the wall —what the…— Deimos says dropping his cigarette from his mouth, Sanford approaches confused by his friend's reaction and looks at the wall

the wall had a large drawing of a Chinese dragon, it was not common to find colors other than black, gray and red in snow, but that drawing had several shades of blue, it was something very unusual for them even more because they did not know what kind of creature that was it, their heads filled with questions, “why would AAHW draw this?” “how did they do?” “What creature was that?” and many others, Deimos decides to take a picture of the drawing to try and find out more about it later, Sanford notices something in the corner of the written drawing and reads it aloud —made by: mysterious artist— they decide to leave after taking the photos and sending them to the Doctor, they drive to the base itself with one more question in mind..."is it an ally or an enemy...?" Doctor looked at the images surprised and intrigued, how could this person have approached the installation without being noticed? AAHW wouldn't be the type to paint their own walls with the drawings, the painting seems to have taken a while to do and logically wasn't easy, how did I manage to take so long to do the drawing without getting caught? There were many questions and unfortunately no answers, he couldn't find anything that was that creature, he was curious to know more about that unknown artist

Y/n POV

i was walking through the nevada lands and i walk into my favorite fast food store

—will you want the same as usual Y/n?— the store attendant Carl says, I nod and he gives a slight smile and takes my order, I just wait for my order to be ready while I listen to a conversation that caught my attention -Did you hear? there's someone painting the walls of the places—a grunt talks while eating his Burger—the one who painted the wall of one of the AAHW facilities? yes i heard, i wanted to know what they mean— another grunt says sipping his soda, I smile under my mask, it's been a while since I came to this world, I wasn't from here, this world was very colorless and lifeless so I decided to show some art, I saw an installation called AAHW and made a friend there, but I didn't join, I found out a lot about this AAHW, I thought the things they did were horrible so why not make fun of them a little? tonight I decided that I would provoke this AAHW and other of these presses, I learned to make some weapons that fit me to paint and fight, this world is not so different from mine…there are also presses that use people and don't care about their lives, I want to color this world and use my art to express

—here's your snack Y/n!— Carl smiles as he hands it to me, I wave a thank you to him and leave, I walk to an abandoned base, that's where I used to live, I climb up to the roof and eat my food

This world is a black and white chaos, but I'm going to fill it with color... and maybe... put an end to all this suffering.

I'm not sure what to do, I can edit this chapter and put more stuff or make a headcanons, tell me what you prefer, I hope you like it!

#madness combat #madness #madness combat au #madness combat x reader #madness combat hank #madness combat deimos #madness combat sanford #madness combat doc #madness combat 2bdammed