#he looked absolutely breathtaking i couldn't not draw him

[harrysmaison]

"Magnifying femininity for a more joyful and poetic world"

#hello i did a quick thing #he looked absolutely breathtaking i couldn't not draw him #my art #hlcreators #stylesnews #hldaily #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam

[incognit0slut]

The breaking point

Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)

Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end

Words: 4,3k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more

You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.

For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it.  He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.

But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.

He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.

Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?

How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?

"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"

Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."

You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.

Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.

"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.

The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.

When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.

You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.

The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.

When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.

The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.

A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.

So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."

You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.

"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"

Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.

You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."

Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.

"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.

The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.

"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."

With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.

As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.

You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."

His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."

"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."

He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."

When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.

"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"

"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.

But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."

You tugged on his roots.

"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."

His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.

And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.

He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.

And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.

When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.

"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"

As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.

"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."

You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."

In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."

"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."

You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.

He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.

Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.

That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.

"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"

He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."

Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.

"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.

"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.

"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."

You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.

Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.

Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.

It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.

Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."

"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."

Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form—the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.

"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."

A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."

You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.

"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"

A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"

You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."

Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.

"Two..."

You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.

And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.

You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.

T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.

The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it,  your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax. 

And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.

You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.

He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.

He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."

You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."

"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"

"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."

He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."

"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."

He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."

You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body. 

You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.

I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.

#gifwriting #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction

[dreamisols]

｡⋆.luxiem + the things they do for love

—headcanons for how the boys show their love for you in their own little ways —fluff, gn! reader, i dumped this all in one night, update i finally proofread it!, the boys are their personas in the fic, i'm not including a certain someone out of respect :(, please remember that fiction is not equal to reality, always respect the livers! —rimi's ramble: i've always wanted to write for niji (T v T) i'll write for other fandoms too soon!

shu yamino

... entertains you with little light shows

if the people from shu's past life saw him now, he's sure that they would've had a whiplash

the sorcerer admits that he's handled his fair share of deadly curses, especially back in his prime. the delicate fingers brushing through your hair as you lay peacefully on his lap were the same fingers that conjured nightmarish realities towards those who truly deserved his wrath

does he still know all of these curses now? obviously.

can he still cast them as proficiently as before? absolutely.

shu simply chooses not to, so really, he wouldn't blame the people for whatever presumptions and thoughts they would've had about him. he's a man with a notable reputation—though good-natured, still fearful in his own right

his mind drifts along with daydreams as he continues combing through your hair, amused while imagining the terror on their faces upon seeing you so casually sprawled on his lap. no care whatsoever of the fact you're dating a sorcerer, because you trust that you can be vulnerable around your beloved shu

it was a nice change of pace. you're a nice change of pace.

your soft whine breaks shu from his daydream and he can't help but chuckle at the sound. it sounds irritated, but still playful and light. his eyes meet yours when you blink up and speak in a confused daze, "why'd you stop?"

in response, he sends you his signature cheeky grin, "you're gonna grow spoiled if i continue," he jokes, booping your nose "i also wanna show you something."

mumbling a few things under his breath, shu's hands gracefully draw shapes in the air. immediately, a humble array of beautiful sparkling lights and mythical looking creatures dance around the both of you. your mouth gapes in awe, looking at the fantastical sky

"it's a little thing i learned," the sorcerer perks up, adjusting from where he's seated so your back's leaning on his chest. a perfect view to gauge your response. "it's one of the few spells i know that doesn't hurt others. is it nice?"

you nod, still not looking away from the view, "nice? shu, this is breathtaking. i love it"

he leaves a small kiss on your temple, and you feel the smile on his lips as he murmurs a quiet thank you

shu hopes you never find out that he's spent a good chunk of his time learning that spell for you because he knew it would make you smile. and he definitely hopes you never find out that he's willing to do this over and over if it meant you two could always be like this. (that's a lie, he really wants you to know)

ike eveland

... immortalizes you in his work

to say your lover is currently inspired is an understatement

you were convinced that all nine muses had suddenly bestowed gift after gift to him, because you've never seen ike create works at such a speedy rate. he reminds you of a cat overwhelmed with the amount of treats and toys around him, because he keeps on alternating between one thing and the other

though you support your lover's endeavors and encourage him to work to his heart's content, you couldn't help the concern that washes over you when you register the amount of work he has on his plate

now you stand before his room with a mission in mind: make him take a break

maybe also grabbing an opportunity to take a little peek at the content of his works....

you march up with a tray of snacks and a drink in hand, "ike," you call out softly as you shut the door behind you, "i've got some snacks for you"

the novelist perks up at the sound of your voice and immediately turns to face you with a smile

"hello darling," he greets you softly, melodiously, while making quick steps towards you. ike kisses you as gently as he speaks to you, before he flashes an appreciative smile at the sight of your little gift "you really shouldn't have, thank you"

"you need to take a break too, you know" you're quick to comment as you trail after him while he carries the food to his desk. the novelist just hums and nods, and you get the lingering sense that what you said entered one ear and went out the other

you don't even hide the sigh upon noting all the papers scattered around his desk, "i'm serious, ike.." judging by the unfinished thoughts and abruptly cut paragraphs, it seemed like they were all unfinished drafts. "what's gotten you so worked up anyways?"

"you."

it's like he's stating an obvious fact. he replies so quickly and so casually, so unlike the deep thinker you're used to.

you stare at him shocked, while he reaches out to grab some of the said sheets of paper

"i was initially just going to write a cute romantic letter for you, but in the process of writing it, i realized i could somewhat incorporate everything that i feel for you into my actual working project. so i paused in writing the letter and went to writing my draft."

he grabs another few pages from a different pile, and dramatically continues, "but then the more i was thinking of how i felt for you, the more i thought about you in general. you and your pretty self, you'll be the death of me."

"then i realized that if i suddenly started writing about you in that draft, it wouldn't make sense, so i made a new draft just for that."

ike sighs, looking at you with a small pout, "now you can see how it became a cycle from there. really, if anything, you're..." he stops mid-thought, looking straight into your bewildered eyes. you're sure you look like a flustered mess, but you catch the way his eyes carefully map your entire face in adoration as his hand blindly reaches for his notepad

"hang on, i need to hold that thought. i'm getting an idea for yet another work."

luca kaneshiro

... has a whole folder in his notes app dedicated to you

the life of a mafia boss is no joke, you could practically imagine how hectic the day-to-day workload must be

despite your knowledge about luca's line of work, your sweet lover refuses to ever expose you to such ministries underground. he'd indulge you with scraps of information, sure; and the people under him all recognize (and adore) you, yes. but that's just as far as you're gonna get! he doesn't want to risk your safety, and you're beyond grateful for that

but imagination does wonders in filling up for whatever information you're lacking, and you pride yourself with how much your brain's able to conjure on what luca could possibly be doing (though you believe you need to tone down with the gruesome details)

one thing's for certain, there is a lot of things going on in the underworld. a lot of stressful things that leaves even your beloved sunshine of a boyfriend frustrated

his preferred method of blowing off steam? ranting to you

you really don't mind whenever he does since he'd always ask whether you're fine with him talking about it or not, and even with your consent, he really tries to keep everything to a minimum for you. still, that doesn't stop you from empathizing with the struggles and frustrations that come along with his line of work

"i'm really gonna make it up to you, okay?" luca mumbles into the crook of your shoulder, his arms securely wrapped around your frame. you just hummed and kissed his cheek, hugging him back

you regret not taking his words much more seriously

"mister luca kaneshiro, what on earth is this?"

you desperately wish the content of this clipboard was all a joke, or probably something you misread. but judging from the way he giggles like an excited child (which fits the charming grin on his face), you don't think there was a mistake at all

"i said i'm gonna make it up to you! remember?" he chirped before kissing all around your face "we're gonna start with this!"

you blink dumbly at him, "luca... this is a whole week's worth of high class things"

his grin falters and he looks at you with a quizzical stare "wait, does that mean i forgot to print out next week's cruise trip there?"

sometimes you want to take his brain and study it under a microscope.

for a good chunk of time, you scolded luca with how careless and hasty he is with spending, especially when it comes to spoiling you. he retaliates with whines of his own as he childishly pouts and points at the agenda he made for the both of you

"but you said you've always wanted to visit this pop-up cafe since the collab featured is one of your favorite shows! and since you wanna go, then i wanna go too! it even has your preferred drink on the menu, see?"

at some point you tuned out his nonstop rambling, especially when the contents on the clipboard caught your attention. you're quick to realize the entire week's plans are fit exactly to your tastes. all the places and activities are more or less suited to your preferences, and you couldn't help but inwardly applaud luca's attention to detail (he even placed the preferred time according to convenience and comfort)

you don't realize that luca's stopped his persuading rambles when he caught you studying the paper. immediately, a proud grin etches on his face at your astounded look and he puffs his chest in pride,

"i take note of aaalll the things you like and tell me about, y'know? what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn't know whether- i dunno- my lover would prefer their coffee iced or hot? or, trick question: if they even like coffee at all?"

upon seeing your poorly-concealed smile, he beams a smile of his own and kisses the corner of your lips, "just allow me to spoil you and show you my love, yeah?"

vox akuma

... makes a promise ring

"red really does suit you, darling"

vox chuckles when he sees you visibly shiver from the sheer intimacy of his actions. he can't blame you though, not when he's looking at you so affectionately as he gently plays with your hand

one by one, he leaves trails of kisses on your fingers. his lips trailing and mapping each and every area as if he was worshiping you. it feels light and dreamy, the way he's showering you in affection, you really can't help the way your heart swells

the demon is truly a man of his word, an ironic statement you've come to realize given how long you've been dating him. where in stories demons are usually depicted as deceitful beings, the one standing before you is nothing but sincere

he had always been someone who emphasizes the importance of promises, and with his background, you've come to understand why

it's in his principle that promises are meant to be taken seriously. they require mutual trust and a deeper sense of connection between the individuals after all. for instance, when you broke down and told vox all your troubles one time, he wrapped you in his wine colored coat and held you to his chest. you can hear the silent oath he made to always be there for you like you were there for him

but some promises between you two are more silly. like the time he accidentally ate the remaining dessert in the fridge despite you clearly stating over and over again how it was yours. the poor man had to endure your glares and pouts through fits of amused laughter. he finally gave in when he realized you'd playfully dodge his kisses, and made a lighthearted promise to not touch whatever food you said is yours and even compensate by cooking for you that night (the food was divine)

other times, it would sometimes come in the form of affection. simple and direct to the point, but as effective as ever. if he ever had to run late due to some errands or because he's meeting up with his friends, he'll always let you know prior with a gentle kiss on your forehead. a silent way of saying that the moment he's done, he's rushing home to nobody but you

vox really is a man of his word

the ring fitting snuggly around your finger is yet another form of his vows

the red jewel glimmers and winks at you, a lustrous ruby shade strikingly similar to the shade of red your beloved voice demon loves to parade around in.. and the fact that the both of you are wearing similar rings is surely bound to have heads turning to your direction.

you're snapped out of your trance when you feel vox playing with the cool metal wrapped snuggly on your finger. instead of a smug smirk or a devilish grin, his lips are formed into the smallest of smiles. a soft and content smile. he looks at the ring like it's the one thing that genuinely makes him happy, and you understand why

vox gave you a ring not because he wants to own you, but because he trusts you'll never break his greatest oath

"promise you'll take care of it?" he asks, guiding your hand to rest where his heart is—his greatest and most vulnerable vow

"i promise"

likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work! [edited and proofread: 110623]

#🎐rimi.works #💌.nijisanji #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #no proofread and speedy work again :(

[angelltheninth]

Could I request NSFW of Malleus going feral over seeing his fem!s/o wearing a wedding dress?

When is not feral haha.

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, wedding night, torn clothing, biting, scratching, marking, kissing, mating mark

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Malleus is at his best when he's being and feral at the same time.

From the moment he was you walking down to meet him at the alter Malleus couldn't keep his eyes off you. He never could actually but there was just something about seeing you in your wedding dress that sparked a possessive and primal urge within him. Boiling in his gut, begging to be unleashed.

He could only give you kisses, longing looks and subtly run his hand up your thigh under the table. The entire time you could feel lust radiating of him like fire.

It was time for him to unleash it, finally, having you to himself.

"You're absolutely breathtaking." He has your wrists pinned above your head, your back arched down and turned to him, your ass against his clothed hard cock, "My beautiful bride. My... mine." Hot breath warmed your neck. Your body burned for him as his did for you. Your head was spinning, partially from the wine and partially from having Malleus pressing against you like this. Unable to contain his desires.

Heat crawled up and down your body as he caressed you with his free hand, revealing your bare thigh and hiking the dress up as he went, "You can't wait can you? You've been staring at me for hours now Mal."

His chuckle tickled your neck, his teeth sharp and cold, "Can you truly blame me? You're the woman of my dreams, married to me, we're gonna build a life together. Just the two of us." His hand traveled to your front, pressing against your stomach, "For now."

You shuttered at the thought of him, above you, inside you, coming inside you so many times you can't walk right afterwards, having to be carried in his arms.

"I apologize for what I'm about to do next my darling. I know you played a lot for this, but I promise I will make it up to you." He pushed his cock closer to you, and the next thing you heard was the sound of torn fabric and the sensation of suddenly being cold, being naked.

"Malleus! Pervert!" You tugged and bucked against his grip, only backing up into his cock as a result. His clothed cock felt good on your naked pussy, growing wet where it touched, ruining his wedding attire as well, "You could have just told me to strip you know." You wiggled against him deliberately. Oh the sweet revenge. And even more, you spread your legs, willing and inviting to him, "Take some responsibility."

A shaky breath left his mouth, hot against your neck, his tongue even hotter, "Anything for you darling." He kept kissing your neck, a good distraction when combined with his hands running across your front, getting your nipples hard, making your head swirl and your pussy drip, even making you fail to hear when his pants hit the floor. The warm head of his cock pushing through your folds took you by surprise, a much too welcome one. "If you would allow me the honor, I would like to become one with you tonight. Body and spirit. Would like that, my most beautiful rose?"

You nodded furiously, desperately trying to open up more, take him inside of you, soothe that burning fire, that ache in your stomach and your cunt, "I'm already yours. So go ahead, do as you wish Malleus."

Those words acted like a leash and collar to him, pulling until... "Shit, how you so wet already?" Malleus, shaking with need, bottomed out in your warm hole and stopped, adjusting to the sensation of your velvety walls taking him in, "You're perfect." He mumbled, "Need to... mmm... make you mind now." His fangs broke the soft skin of your neck, drawing bits of blood, the painful bite mixing with the pleasure of his cock moving in and out of you, slowly, his heavy balls pushing against your every time he bottomed out in your cunt.

He was in no rush at all, comfortable with taking his time, only occasionally making a sharp hard thrust, laughing against your neck when you'd gasp and clench tighter around him. All the while his teeth remained closed around the base of your neck.

The short, sharp thrusts that he surprised you with made you back up against his, craving him, almost under some wonderful thrall underneath him. Was the room spinning from the alcohol or were you just feeling that good? You don't know, you don't need to know, you only need Malleus to make you feel good.

Sharp claws dragged up your thighs, leaving little faint marks before smoothing over your shoulder. His fangs let you go, hot mouth traveling over the bite mark, a long, warm tongue soothing the pain before moving to your right shoulder, biting a less permanent mark there.

Malleus seemed determined to mark every part of your body he could.

"I think I'm getting close." You definitely were, the heat in your belly building up to a fire, a storm, threatening to tear you apart if left untended. "Touch me. Two fingers." You whined even as he obliged, rubbing down your body, his fingers finding your aching clit and rolling them over, rolling your clit between then, rubbing small, slow circles, then going faster when he'd thrust in hard, and repeating the process. "Yes, you feel so good Mal. Keep doing that!"

He was nothing if not eager to please you.

Malleus's hips started bucking wildly, sharp slaps and squelching noises mixing in with moans and growls, "Squeeze. Fuck, squeeze around me and make me come!" Malleus roared, chasing that feeling, ramming into you with newly found force.

You whispered out a gentle, "Malleus," before you felt your orgasm crash over you. He followed closely after, his orgasm nearly simulations to yours, warm cum pumping into your pussy from his throbbing cock.

"Damn. Holy fuck." You leaned your sweaty forehead against the door, "And we haven't eve broken in the wedding bed yet."

"I can change that." Malleus was still as hard as a rock inside of you. You never wanted him to leave, you wanted to keep his cock warm forever. "We can keep going all night." He wiggled his hips playfully, enjoying the way you arched into him further, humming in delight at his suggestion.

"Lose the rest of your clothes first. I think it's time for a little payback. How do you feel about being tied up with a tie?" You didn't see his eyes widen but you sure did feel his excitement at the proposal, "So yes?"

"Only if I can tie you up later, I have got some nice ideas." Oh. Oh well then, this is gonna be a... eventful night.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus hcs #malleus smut #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia smut

[rainyreading]

admire me in the morning

draco malfoy x reader

a/n: I deactivated my account a couple years back, but i’m back now and ready to write. I’m posting this again but I have more new stuff coming soon.

Draco couldn't help but stay awake. He knew the sun would be starting to rise in a few short hours and the night would be no longer, but right now he didn't seem to care. No he did not because right now the love of his life was looking breathtaking, sleeping peacefully next to him.

She was clad in nothing but his sweatshirt, merlin he loved her in his clothes. He couldn't help it that his mind was turning smoothly and calmly with thoughts of nothing but her. Which was quite opposite to his heart, racing and running and thumping, laced with love, almost mind numbing. He was in disbelief that she was his and she possibly loved him just as much as he lover her.

She looked so beautiful, so stunning. Her lips parted with soft breathes leaving her mouth, snuggled next to him. The moon outside leaving a little glow into the room giving her face softness and light.

His hand reached out to brush some stray hairs that fell on her face, smoothing them back. His hand not want to leave as his thumb stroked her cheek, "pretty baby" he muttered.

She lightly stirred, he moved his hands to rest on her hips, under her sweater on her skin, drawing her even closer. He began massaging her hip bones, thumbs brushing up her sides.

His touch drawing her out of her sleep, she mumbled softly, "Dracoo."

"Go back to sleep, my love."

She tucked her head into his chest pushing lightly, her hand slide up, to his neck, finally reaching his cheek, "what about you? you need to rest, want you to go to sleep too," she whispered almost incoherently in her tired state.

He turned and pressed a kiss to her palm "I will."

"Are you ok?" she asks still not opening her eyes wrapping her arms around him, and hugging him tightly. She was wondering why her lover was not in dreamland at this hour. Draco danced his fingers up her back and spine, trying to lull her back to sleep.

He kisses her forehead and his nose nudged the spot before he speaks, "just admiring you darling."

He can feel her smile, "well, admire me in the morning." He chuckles at this, because he will and he does almost every new day the sun brings and he wakes up next to his girl. He believes he's in heaven in the morning light, so he thinks it's an almost guarantee that he will.

She leaned back eyes barley opening just this once "want to you to rest" she drowsily repeated. she's absolutely adorable he thought. he pressed his forehead to hers, nose nudging hers, "whatever you want angel," only ever wanting to make her happy.

She burrows her face back in to his chest, relaxing and exahaling as her body becomes tired again.

So, Draco hugs her close and he eventually does fall asleep, when he makes sure she has, both content in their lovers arms.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fic #draco #soft!draco #draco imagine #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy one shot #harry potter #golden era #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy x reader fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter drabble #harry potter draco malfoy #hp fanfic #hp draco #hp draco malfoy #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy x female!reader #harry potter fandom

[whorediaries-09]

SO SORRY TO ADD ANOTHER A OTHER REQUEST :( BUT CAN WE MAYBE HAVE LIKE A SOFT NICE DATE THAT SLOWLY TURNS INTO SMUT WITH RON? PLEASEE? Also hui :3

hi lovey, thank you for sending in the request, hope you like it!

i think he knows; pairing- ronald weasley x reader warning(s)- mentions of war, 18+ content, fluff. a/n- contrary to popular belief, i am in fact quite alive and breathing.

little train.

' he got that boyish look that i like in man, i'm an architect i'm drawing up the plans. '

going on a date after the war was...intimidating, to put it in within a play of a single word. and surely ron wasn't expecting himself to be in a sticky situation with the pretty healer who had tended to his wounds after the traumatizing events. he ran his thumb over the now healed scar.

it'd tell a tale.

he remembered you. he could recall the dullness of worry in your eyes. the shine of hope in your eyes. even if your hair was matted with blood and rubble, you were the diesel to the fire that so timidly burned. the bruise under your eye was fresh, deep blue blackening, a shard of glass hanging from your chin.

he wish he could paint the blue golden.

with the last tug at the leather strap of the watch around his wrist, he decided he'd get the flowers. it would add a nice touch, a 'gentlemanly effect', he liked to think. even if it did seem to be a bit cliche. perhaps he thought of the smile on your face when you got the flowers (he was hopeful that you liked flowers). or perhaps he was just afraid of the aspect of a hormone rushing pregnant ginny hitting him on the head because of his 'less gentlemanly thoughts'

he remembered harry patting his shoulders, throwing out advices. ron rolled his eyes. he recalled when harry was swooning over cho chang, describing his very 'wet' kiss. he kicked harry in the shin, pulling a laugh out of his friend, grumbling harry wasn't much of a 'playboy' either.

so, he found himself standing in the flower shop, having absolutely no ideas about flowers. he watched the half a dozen barely bloomed pink roses being tied together. god forbid you weren't allergic to them. or didn't laugh at him for being too cliched.

he wished hermione had actually written that book about girls.

*-

it was fruitful, his attempt to choose the flowers. he'd recognized it from the shine in your eyes and the beautiful curve adorned on your lips. he'd found you beautiful when you were on the brink of death, disguised as a savior, so heaven sent. but now, when you held his hand, touching the scar you'd mended, talking away about stuff he couldn't really catch up on, your hair smelling like something so desirable, he found you breathtaking. he was mesmerized by you.

you felt like a forbidden treasure, the diesel to the fire in his heart that raged it's flames ever so timidly.

you'd liked the flowers. ron silently thanked the gods that you weren't allergic. you liked a lot of things, he learnt. cats, photography, literature, music, and a good fuck... was amongst the few things you liked. he was sure you'd said that intentionally just to pull out a reaction. the evil trick was recognized by the pretense innocent mischievousness in your eyes.

he was glad he coughed the drink in his mouth instead of spitting it right onto your face. you'd smiled, throwing him a dirty wink, twirling the straw of lemonade with your tongue. the dim carnival light angled your features, bringing out the best of your bone structure.

'well, to put it correctly, i enjoy a good fuck...' you said, after ron had recovered from his coughing haze. he wiped the edge of his lips, a nd putting on his best front, he responded,

'well then i can promise you an enjoyable time with me sweetheart,'

it was said with an awkward stance, a constant shift of octaves. but it still made you flush as the flame of the fire of his burning heart tickled your skin. you'd be his fuel, his diesel. you'd be his muse, the tale he recite.

*-

by the time it was time to leave you by the doorstep, the sky dizzied itself across the luminated street scattered with gravel. his fingers were melted within the crevices of yours, fit snug like a puzzle. he liked the way you laughed, the way your voice did throbbed so serenely against his eardrums while narrating tales, the way your eyes lit up against the dim lighting. 'liked' would be an understatement.

for the first time in his life, he was thankful for his freckles. he hoped they hid the flush of his pale skin.

'you're...kind,' you stated, shimmying on your tiptoes.

'hmm... why do you say so, sweetheart?' he asked.

'i know you live on the other side of town, and you came by to drop me...' a stupid line pops up in his head, but he doesn't say anything. he almost bites his lip to not let his boyish thought control his action. so, he smiles.

and lingers. holding your hand. the distance between him and you isn't much, the little roof over the entrance of your house providing him the needed protection from rain.

he can feel your breathe upon his already warm skin. it excruciates his patience. it plays with his senses, the sweet fragrance of petrichor infused with a scent, that reeks of you. it's blissful.

still, like the boyish man he is, he does nothing. he lingers, letting a silence wrap the little bubble of tranquility. it's comforting, in a strange way. he can't figure out what to do, when the sound of the rain, the running vehicles and the croaking frogs blur, when he feels your fingers tighten around his.

your lips lingers a little too close to his, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. or rather the side of his mouth. his mind reels when you place forward your request, your thought.

'the rain won't stop. not now anyways.' you whisper, lips brushing his earlobe. he doesn't recognize what takes over him within the click of your doorknob and the placement of your hand on his waist, as you pull him towards you.

but he enjoys it, the sudden rush of hormones. it's quick, it's something he's not felt for a long time. so long, it almost feels foreign. perhaps, it is. it's a warmth he's never felt, no never in his teenage years has he ever felt the need of touch. he's never realized the need, he thinks.

it's maddening, your touch all over his body when he finally crashes his mouth with yours, pushing you against the unlocked door of your house. he stumbles as you grab your neck, breathlessly cradling your cheek within the crevice of his palm. the scar you'd fixed touches the one on your chin.

it's a tale to be kept silent, to be a concealed message. like a string of fate, perhaps.

his teeth nips softly at the bare skin of your neck, your back pressed against the cold wall of your house. he feels the heat radiate off your body, moans leaving your mouth. your name rolls of his tongue as your fingers pull his hair, pulling his face away from your neck.

'is this okay?' he asks, concerned. he thinks he's fucked it up, by jumping on your bones. to his relief, you smile,

'it's...more than okay. can we go to the bedroom please?'

'sure, sweetheart. whatever makes you comfortable.'

*-

you've got your hair tangled up in his ginger locks. the moans spilling from your throat echoes through against the walls of your bedroom. his lips aren't on yours, as much as he'd love to taste your moans and sounds, your noise is honey-dripping gold in his eardrums.

his cock plunges deep within you, till your room loses the smell of your sandalwood candles. it reeks of sex and skin, the physical intimate bond of unheard individuals. it reeks of something magical, a golden desire painting over deep blue bruises.

it's fueling, to feel his touch on your skin. it diesels the fire that ignites within you when he snaps his hips against yours. the sound of his gasps, your moans, and skin slapping fills the room. you roll your eyes, as he thrusts himself angled perfectly so as to hit your sweet spot. you see white, moaning his name,

'fuck please, ron right there,'

his silver chain dangles over your lips. you wrap your lips around it, bringing his face closer. he gasps, his finger slipping between your connected bodies. his calloused thumb rubs over your stimulated clit, making you arch your hips, searching for more friction.

'you're making me feel so good, sweetheart,' he moans as you clench your walls around his girth. the coil building in your stomach drives your to the edge of your sanity.

'yeah?' you whisper back, half heaving, half controlling your urge to scream. it's heavenly, the combination of his perfect thrusts, the rubbing of his finger against your clit. you wrap your legs around his body, pulling him closer, to feel him, to touch him.

his girth plunges in you, and you feel your coil unraveling through you, your thighs shaking as the orgasm bubbles over the brink. it's pure heavenly insanity, a break through from the scorching insatiable desire for him.

you feel him release within you, wrecking your guts. your orgasm paints his abs, as his lump body falls over yours, his weight dead. he hides his face into your neck, smiling. the tranquil silence settles, carving a little bubble of comfort. neither of you hear the rain pattering against the gravel.

perhaps, truly it was just an excuse. excuse for a fate, for a destiny. to rebound broken strings of souls.

'you don't break promises do you?' you ask, laughing.

****************************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox. specify whether you want to be tagged in just the series or all my upcoming works.)

#ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley #ron weasley x you #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley fanfic

[gh0st-author]

mastermind.

Pairing: William James Moriarty x Reader

Summary: What you needed was a chance— an opening. A cause to draw him out, to approach him. But that would be easier said than achieved. Impossible even.

Tags: fluff, a little bit suggestive but nothing much, Liam is a softie

A/N: so i was listening to mastermind by taylor swift and i just realized how much it fits liam, so this brainrot you see here was born. also this is set in america somewhere in those 2.5 years after the billy incident but before they return to london. my thought process was that liam and sherlock were doing some undercover work at this ball. additionally i decided to have Liam keep his eye here man's been through enough...

The moment was like something straight out of a fairy tale. An instant that you can't quite place; a dream that would unravel and slip from your grasp and glide through your fingers if you only tried to look too close at it. Gentle candlelight tracing abstract patterns over the entire hall, making the entire scene seem magical. Delicate music from numerous hidden instruments filling the air with yearning, so beautiful it could make your heart ache. The muffled sounds of secret whispers and the rustling of numerous exotic fabrics joining the cacophony of sounds, not to overpower but to add to the overall mystique and intricacy of the night. And him. Him— this radiant and golden being, akin to an angel, luring you in, stealing your coherence.

Your eyes were on him as soon as he'd entered the room, followed by another dark-haired man who you couldn't make yourself glance at for the life of you. Because doing that would mean taking your eyes off him. Elegant frame gliding through the mass of people, pale golden strands swaying with the movement, awakening an urge in you to trace your hands through them, to find out if they were as soft as they looked.

This feeling washing over you, filling your every cell, clouding your mind more than the glass of expensive wine in your hand, was new. Completely and irrevocably unfamiliar. And that terrified you tremendously. How could one person have such an effect on you, before you'd even exchanged so much as courteous greeting?

He must've felt your attention on him— how could he not when you were burning holes in the back of his head— and his head turned towards your hiding place, the little nook you slotted yourself in as to avoid unnecessary prattle of the ladies around you.

Oh...

You felt as if all of the air had been leached out of the room in that one moment, then instantaneously rushed back in leaving you light-headed. Bewitching. That was the only word adequate enough to describe his face, his eyes. His features were timeless, elegant, touched by the innocence of youth but also impossibly wise at the same time. And when his sharp scarlet gaze connected with your own, what little thoughts you had— however trifle they might've been— evaporated into mist and smoke. Those were eyes that never missed anything, that appeared to gaze directly through your flesh and blood and straight into your soul, seeing every detail, every dirty little secret. Yes, this man was absolutely breathtaking; utterly captivating.

You averted your gaze, feeling exposed and not wanting to stare too hard. This night had just become infinitely more interesting to you. But, despite all of the stars aligning and conspiring to place you in the same room with such a magnetic and compelling presence, you had no conceivable way of conversing with him. In truth, you were only here in the first place because of your cousin, and this ball was nothing more than just a chore to you who was supposed to be her chaperone. You had no connections and no reason to seek him out, no matter how much your heart yearned for it. Even now, you could see his outline floating in the corner of your vision, surrounded by numerous important individuals.

You sighed, and deciding against hiding for now, you smoothed out your gown and abandoned your little nook. It was due time to try to mingle with the dense crowd.

Like his shadow, a phantom, you traced his steps around the room, trying to find an opportune moment to etch just a little bit closer. Wherever you went you glimpsed him from the corner of your eye, always near, but always just out of reach. As soon as one group had finished with him, he was already onto the next. He was everywhere—  anywhere you looked— making your desperation rise. It was a known fact that our psyche worked in contradictory ways; the more one tried not to gaze at something or think of something, the more the mind made them a prisoner of exactly those thoughts. The echo of his silhouette followed you around, always just a tad bit too far away.

Positively exhausted by the constant ongoing battle between your mind and your heart, you retracted back to the faraway corner of the room, choosing instead to behold the art and numerous artifacts nestled there. What you needed was a chance— an opening. A cause to draw him out, to approach him. But that would be easier said than achieved. Impossible even.

Deep in thought, one painting caught your attention. It was a magnificent piece, truly, but you were not able to decipher what exactly about it ensnared you so. It appeared no more extravagant than any other painting in the room, yet you couldn't look away from it. It felt as if it was pulling you in, calling to you.

"Captivating work, is it not?"

The sudden voice to your right made you startle, and you were forcefully ripped away from your mussings. You almost didn’t need to look to know who the person who'd just spoken was. After all, your body was tingling in his mere presence, every cell coming alive simultaneously, vibrating with hope now that he was the one who sought you out first. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, you pivoted to regard the stranger. "I'm sorry?"

"That painting." He flashed you a gentle smile, his unusual-colored eyes regarding you with interest as he approached to stand beside you. "It's a true masterpiece. The artist uses patterns and geometry to create a most aesthetically pleasing piece, painting illusions to trick the viewer into thinking they can actually step into a two-dimensional space. It's rather extraordinary."

His voice was soft and melodic, slightly amused. Your eyes caught at the slight upturning of the corners of his lips as he spoke, unable to look away. It was either that or get lost in his knowing gaze. "Are you an artist?"

"A mathematician, more accurately." You heard a wistful note in his voice. "I used to teach at a university in England, but sadly, I don't anymore." He gave you another smile, this one a little dimmer than his last one. "Some circumstances got in the way. But that is neither here nor there. I take it you are someone's chaperone tonight. If I had to guess, the young lady's over there."

You followed his gaze and saw your cousin a little further away, engaged in a conversation with some friends. How did he know that?  "I am. Thank you for your insightful deduction Mr.–"

"Liam. Call me Liam."

"Liam..." You whispered his name like a prayer on your lips, tasting how it felt on your tongue. "No title? Is it short for something?"

"No... just Liam. Classes and titles mean nothing to me." You couldn't quite read the emotion in his voice as he said that, layers of something more— perhaps dejection— intertwined beneath a calm reply. "And what shall I call you, Miss–"

"Y/N" You held out your hand to him, and Liam, never breaking his eye contact with you, raised it gently to his lips, leaving just a breath of a kiss there.

"Y/N..." He too sounded like he was sounding out your name, familiarising himself with it as if he planned to continue saying it many times more. "The pleasure is mine."

That one touch, that one kiss against your gloved hand, was enough to light a fuse within you. You felt flushed all over, both too hot and wrecked with chills at the same time. You needed to know more about this man. He was like a Venus fly trap, a mystery you wanted to solve, an equation you wanted to assess. "Did you come here alone tonight?"

"I am accompanying my good friend on some business tonight. He is the black-haired individual currently giving us the burning stare." And sure enough, when you followed his gaze, you spied the gentleman in question, the one who followed Liam when he first entered the room, giving you both suspicious glances. Looking at him now, no longer blinded by the brilliance of the mysterious mathematician, he was a handsome individual, tall and all angular features, but that was overshadowed by the arrogant eyebrow he raised at you as if contemplating to terminate your further involvement with his friend.

"Have I done something to upset him?" You haven't even met him, yet he seemed to not be pleased with you.

"No, he's just paranoid. Unnecessarily." Liam narrowed his gaze at him, and they appeared to be exchanging a wordless string of arguments between them, after which the man shrugged his shoulders and flashed you both a sheepish smile, putting his hands in his pockets and turning away to talk to some other nearby attendant. Liam's attention was back on you now. "Excuse his behaviour, he has a lot on his mind tonight."

You, too, had a lot on your mind tonight— mainly, how to slip away somewhere where you could be alone with him, away from the eyes of everyone so you could continue your conversation uninterrupted. Suddenly, a thought permeated the fog in your brain. It wiggled through and lodged itself right in the forefront. An opportunity to get him alone... This was it. If you could use this to your advantage, you could make an unfortunate situation into something worth remembering. "Don't worry. I don't mind—"

You cut your sentence off, bumping into him purposely. Your glass almost slid out of your hand, deep burgundy splashing over his coat. He caught you, a true gentleman, as you widened your eyes and flew into a flurry of apologies, as you quickly set down your— now empty— glass. "Oh my God, I am so sorry! I don't know what happened, I must've been more inebriated than I thought. I'm so sorry!"

Liam was a picture-perfect opposite to your hysteria of movement. He calmly grabbed his coat and slid it off. The dark burgundy stain had bleed through the outer layer onto his white shirt beneath, and he let out a chuckle as he inspected his coat and the stain on his chest for the damage. "Don't worry, it was an accident. Such things happen." He sighed at the coat. "Although, I suppose I can't show myself in front of our business partner tonight like this."

"Please let me do something!" You pleaded, doing your best to show him how remorseful you were. It wasn't all for show, you did feel kind of awful for staining his clothes. "I have a handkerchief, I can help you. Please, follow me." If you fail to plan, you plan to fail— or so they said. Life was about making the most out of unexpected situations, and you were not about to waste this opportunity that had been given to you. You grabbed his arm and tugged him along with you as you slinked by the walls and made your way out of the hall.

You entered the first room you saw— a study, it appeared— and pulled him with you to sit down on the couch. Quickly taking out the handkerchief, you grabbed the coat from his hand and started dabbing the stain. Luckily, his coat was dark, so it wouldn't be too noticeable in the candlelight. All the while, Liam said nothing and just observed you with an unreadable gaze.

"I expected you to be more cross with me," you said after some time, finally daring to glance in his direction. You hoped he wasn't, otherwise, this plan was all for nothing.

That gave him a pause, and he blinked at you, as if you said something unexpected. "I am afraid I don't understand. This was just an accident that could happen to anyone. There is no reason for me to be cross. Were you, perhaps, afraid I would be?" He smiled at your frown, and you averted your gaze back to the task at hand. A contradictory enigma. This coat was of very expensive material, yet he made no complaints. Chose kindness, instead of anger. You were definitely right to get this mysterious man alone, even now you felt the inescapable draw of his presence.

"It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both," you murmured absentmindedly while still gently dabbing away on the stain, doing your utmost to try to get rid of it.

"Oh, you are familiar with Machiavelli's works?" He leaned back, placing his arm on the armrest of the couch and resting his jaw on the back of his hand.

"I've read some here and there. Why? Are you an enjoyer of his books?" You raised the coat up to the light and observed it. This had to do for now until he could get it cleaned.

"I too have read them here and there." His gaze was sharper now, both cunning and amused. It made you shiver— but not unpleasantly, you realized with a start. "I find his takes on the authority and aristocracy most fascinating."

Laying the coat aside, you scooted closer to him, the couch making you all the more aware of your proximity, the dim lights making it all seem more intimate. This close you could even smell a faint tinge of his cologne, mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol you spilled. This turned out to be a perfect excuse to touch him, to feel him. Everything went precisely by design.

Dizzy from the heat of his body, now so close to you, you slowly started to dab at the stain on his shirt. "You truly are an enigma, Mr. Liam, are you aware?" He only continued to observe you with his slight smile, the rising of his eyebrow the only indication that he was listening. Taking that as an invitation, you prattled on. "You seem like someone of noble birth, yet you appear to disprove of the class system and disregard any titles. You seem awfully intelligent, and yet I have not seen your name in any field of research, not even math." You took this opportunity to smooth out his collar, fingers gently grazing the skin of his collarbone. "And you approached me, and were able to accurately ascertain things about me I gave you no indication of." You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly glanced down again, resuming your attempts at trying to clean up the wine.

You felt him let out a little contemplative hum, as he leaned closer to you. "You are an enigma as well, Miss Y/N. You have followed my every move since I appeared here, yet refused to approach me the entire night. You still don't seem to trust my words, but you have not yet inquired into anything I've said. It is almost as if you enjoy this little game." He raised his hand, and you watched with bated breath as he caught a strand of your hair and twirled it around his finger. "Tell me, is it fun trying to uncover my secrets?"

Hands falling into your lap, the stain and handkerchief long forgotten, you felt light‐headed again. Like a snake dancing to the magic flute, both your body and your mind were charmed, following his every move. This little plan of yours might be working better than you anticipated. If you actually survived until the end of this game, of course, because if he kept looking at you like that, giving you his undivided scrutiny, you doubt you could last. "You followed me here without question as well." You managed to whisper out. "Did you perhaps have some ulterior motives with me too, Mr. Liam?"

He gave a little tug at the lock of hair wrapped around his digit. "I wonder..." His sharp eyes were now unfocused and thoughtful as if he himself couldn't really understand his actions. "Whatever compelled me to do that?"

You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, wondering if this was such a smart idea now. Maybe you shouldn't even be here, shouldn't entertain your wicked thoughts. Your draw to him was too powerful, dangerous even. It felt like too much and too little at the same time as if you could ignite and burn and blaze down to smithereens with a single word from him, drown with a single touch.

At that moment, the door slammed open with a loud creak, cutting off your train of thought. Both of you reflexively jerked back from your compromising position, the moment gone and magic ruined. The room now felt infinitely colder without his proximity, the couch impossibly wide. Your startled gaze fell on the culprit who had barged in so suddenly, finally able to breathe without Liam's cologne tampering with your thoughts. It was him, the man Liam introduced as his friend earlier. He glanced sharply at you both, eyes staying on you for a heartbeat longer than necessary, studying you. Contemplating. You could see the same mysterious intellect you saw in Liam in him, the same razor-sharp mind, the same murky and vague past. His eyes widened imperceptibly as if taken aback by your inspection, then filled with something akin to grudging understanding. Then he swiveled towards Liam and pointed behind him. "Liam we have to go. Work's calling."

A sigh, no louder than a disturbance of air left him, and he rose, giving you a remorseful look. "Sorry, dear. Seems like our time is up. Hopefully, I will see you again one day, under more fortunate circumstances." He quickly donned his coat, adjusting it to best cover up the stain, then with a hurried gait followed his friend out the door.

"I am sure you will." You whispered, as you watched him leave, him only turning back once to shoot you a conspiratorial grin. As if saying to keep what happened here a secret.

Checkmate, you thought. You will be seeing him again, you were sure of that. There was just something about him that sang to you, some kind of kindred warm flame, like fire burning in a hearth. But in his calm gaze, you also caught a glimpse of something else beneath, another fire, blazing hot, ardent, and dangerous. All of it made you even more curious, made you crave him more. You had to arrange a meeting with him again.

You couldn't lose.

Truly, nothing moved faster than time. It was outstanding, mind-boggling, how it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. And now, two years later, you found yourself with the hard wood of the door of digging harshly into your back as you leaned back to let Liam deepen the kiss. The soft rustling of clothes and your quick breathing were the only sounds permeating the room of Liam's and Sherlock's shared apartment in Brooklyn. Barely any light illuminated your two silhouettes, only the moonlight and a rare street light outside of the window providing any illumination.

Gasping for breath, his lips still chasing yours, you attempted to put some distance between you. "Wait, what about  Sh—"

"Do not worry." He whispered, still eager to continue. "Sherlock is already on his way to London as we speak. So is Billy. No one will bother us."

"That means we have to leave for London soon, too." You gripped his shirt in your hand, raising on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. "How convenient that we are free to spend our last night here as we wish." Pulling back, you looked back at him, face full of mirth, lips splitting into a cheeky grin.

Cupping the back of your neck, he gave you one last kiss before leaning away. "Call me an opportunist."

Gently, his hand slid down to your waist as he moved you from the door and laid you achingly slowly on the bed. Your own hands moved from their position on his chest to intertwine in his hair. Soft and exactly as silky as you thought it would be two years ago. On that magical night. A night so much like this. His gaze was soft, and melancholy, as if he too was remembering that time. Most days, you were scarcely able to wrap your head around the fact that so much time has passed and that you've won the affections of such an ethereal being. That you yourself were able to set the wind to your sails that first night, to not just play the role of a pawn, but to be the king instead.

He regarded you in silence for quite some time, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your waist, your hips. His face was unreadable, haunted. "I would ask what you're thinking about, but I'm terrified to know."

He let out a quiet chuckle and rested his forehead against yours. "Oftentimes, I think night is purer than day; it is better for thinking, loving, and dreaming. Maybe I was always meant to dwell in the night, to plot. At night everything is more intense, more true."

"Enough of your philosophy." You grumbled. "If you wish to scheme and think you can do that with Sherlock." Using your hands in his hair, pulled his face closer to yours, your lips barely brushing. "I think, currently, your mouth could be much better occupied."

He gave you a deep kiss, making you forget how to breathe, then bit your lower lip teasingly. "I never scheme. You must be confusing me for someone else" So saying, he chuckled. "But I must admit, I enjoy seeing you so flustered for me."

Well, two could play that game. When his lips traced a path from your kiss-swollen ones downwards to your neck to shower it with countless marks you'll surely have to cover up tomorrow, you decided to entertain yourself as well. "What if I told you that none of this was accidental?" It was nothing more but a breathless whisper, a silky melody in the darkness of the room. His ministrations didn't stop, but you continued, eager to fluster him at least once, even if it meant sharing your biggest secret— a secret that you had sworn you would take to your grave. "Were you aware that the first night I saw you I decided that nothing was going to prevent me from getting closer to you? You were like a blazing flame and me but a simple moth drawn to your brilliance. So I conspired to get you alone." It was getting harder and harder to form coherent thoughts when his kisses felt so hot, almost burning and branding your skin wherever they landed, but you persevered, tightening your hold on his hair and enjoying his slight shudder. "I... purposely spilled wine on you that night." You swallowed against a sudden lump in your throat. "I knew I had to lay down the groundwork if I wanted to catch your attention, knew I had to set it all up like dominoes." A sudden nibble on the junction of your neck and shoulder made you gasp.

"I was aware."

You were so thoroughly distracted by the feeling of his lips on the skin of your neck that it took a few seconds for his words to register, and when they did your whole body froze. "Wait... You knew?!"

You felt his lips pull into a smirk against your skin and he slowly pulled away, his eyes dancing with barely concealed mirth. "Darling, I knew the entire time."

You were rendered speechless. Shock. Disbelief. The feeling of the world freezing in its tracks. That's all you felt as you stared wide-eyed at the man above you. Your body felt weightless and stone-heavy at the same time. What does he mean: "He knew the entire time?"  Every encounter that you two had raced through your mind as you tried to remember if he ever showed any indication of being aware of your little game. There were none. "You're lying," you stuttered out through your suddenly dry throat.

His smirk was downright devious now. "On the contrary, dear. Not only was I aware of your schemes— I was the one who orchestrated them. From the very start, this has been a chain reaction of countermoves on both sides."

"But then-" Every world felt like sandpaper as you tried to make sense of the situation.

"Steering Sherly in your direction under the guise of talking to some aristocrats the first time I saw you, just so I could be in your field of vision the entire night. Purposely asking around about that painting I knew nothing about to start a conversation with you, then letting you bump into me so you could have an excuse to talk with me in private. Accidental meetings. All actions of a desperate man, who had been completely and utterly enamored ever since he first laid eyes on you." Each sentence was followed up with a kiss— to your neck, to your cheek, to the corner of your lips. One of his hands slowly made its way upwards towards your face from its place around your waist. Still in shock, all you could do was lean into his hand when he gently cupped your jaw. "But it was incredibly enjoyable, this little game of ours. I never believed that there would be someone who would go to such lengths for my affections." His gaze softened and he traced your cheek with his thumb. "My sweet, vicious mastermind."

You felt your chest squeeze under the crushing wave of pure love that washed over you. This man— this brilliant, extraordinary, incredible, magnificent, breathtaking man— he was yours. And he had been from the beginning. Or, more accurately, you'd been his. For you weren't the one who had been setting everything up since your first encounter– you were the one being strung all along. Happy tears prickled at the corners of your vision and you couldn't help but beam up at him. "I guess this is checkmate. It's my loss."

With a matching smile of his own, the hand on your cheek then slowly moved down to your chin, and he pulled you into another kiss. You closed your eyes and melted into it. It was painfully sweet— maybe the sweetest kiss you two have ever shared.

Looks like you were no match for the former Lord of  Crime after all.

#ynm #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #mtp william #fanfic #fluff #sherlock holmes #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #mtp x reader

[ggomos-maribat]

Sketching Strangers

Damian glided his hand over his sketchbook, listening to the quiet hum of the train as it pulled up to the next stop. The pencil carefully traced the curve of her nose, and then the angles of her fingers poised over her tablet with a stylus. 

He paused for a moment, examining the drawing for disproportions and misalignments. His thoughts drifted to a silent wish that she won't get off the train just yet since he wasn't finished putting her image into paper. Other musings in his head spoke of doubts: Was it too intrusive? Creepy? 

He looked up at his reference sitting across from him. His spur-of-the-moment model who was absolutely breathtaking. 

He made a quick work on the shading when the train began to move again. His head tilted. He only had one pencil—he could only do so much in making it as realistic as possible. But then again, it was an impossible feat to capture the entirety of her elegance in a single piece of paper. He darkened the outline of her lashes and then re-drew the gentle curve of her upper lip. Most of the graphite was offered to her midnight hair, which spilled past her red scarf, grazing the buttons of her coat. 

They were getting nearer to his stop. 

Damian hastily tore off the page of his sketchbook, stood up and held it out to the stranger. She made a surprised sound as she looked up at him with pinkish cheeks and parted lips. 

"I . . . drew you," he mumbled. "You—you can have this." 

He bit his tongue. Damian Wayne did not stutter. 

The girl smiled, her blush deepening into crimson. She flipped her tablet around to show a full-body sketch of him, portraying his concentration in drawing her. 

Damian's breath was caught in his throat. Her talent was beautiful. She was beautiful. 

"I'll be getting off soon," he told her. "Do you want to . . . meet up sometime?"

"Sure," her sweet voice answered. 

Damian quickly scribbled his number on the page before handing it to her. Her eyes sparkled with wonder as her gaze raked over the drawing. 

And when Damian couldn't fight back his smile when he got off the station, he knew he'd be looking forward to getting to know her.

#i wrote this at 3 am #if you see spelling and grammar errors #ssshh no you don't #daminette #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat fic #maribat #short fic #super short

[twistedwonderworm]

Hello, anon here. Could I request headcanons of diasomnia with reader who enjoys drawing , giving the boys a portrait of them that they painted themselves? And when I say portrait, I mean a life-sized portrait. ( if you cant do the full dorm u can just do lilia, leona, vil, and cater. Ty! Also, ur writing is amazing!! Keep up with ur good work, and have a good day ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ )

Of course you can!!!

Headcanons: Diasomnia with an artist!reader

Pairing: Diasomnia x GN!reader

Warnings: N/A

Word count: 720

🐉🦇🗡️⚡🐉

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Mal is pretty used to people painting portraits of him so this is pretty normal. What is not as normal is that his precious child of man is the one painting this newest portrait. Of course, he would rather you not put yourself through this kind of strain, but he wants you to be happy so he won't argue with you.

He's absolutely shocked when you present the portrait to him. A life-sized portrait of him, painted by dear human is the greatest present he could ever ask for. It also doesn't hurt that the quality of it is a much higher calibur than he thought aby human capable of. It is an absolutely beautiful piece and he's over the moon that you painted it just got him.

He has no problem praising you and work as highly as he can, nearly to an embarrassing degree. He can't help it though. To anyone else's eyes, it's just another portrait for Briar Valleys heir apparent, but to him it's so much more. He's just so flattered that you did so much work for him because you wanted to and not because his family paid you to do it. This makes this particular portrait his favorite out of all of them.

LILIA VANROUGE

Also not a stranger to portraits being painted of him, but like Malleus, he won't argue with you about you painting one of him. He has seen the other drawings that you've done, and the quality of your work has this fae very excited. He couldn't wait to see how this portrait came out.

When you finally hand him the finished product, the old fae is pleasantly surprised. Sure all of your works are beautiful and well done, but this portrait is absolutely breathtaking. Few artists he knew could make such a quality,life sized portrait.

After thanking you, Lilia tells you that he's going to treasure it. That's the truth. It's a heartfelt, amazing gift from one of his most favorite humans. He'd be an absolute fool if he didn't treasure it.

SILVER

He's really surprised when you want to paint a portrait of him. Sure, you two are very close but he doesn't believe he's beautiful enough to be immortalized in paint like that. Though if you insist, he'll let you paint. As long as you're happy, he's happy. If you need him for your model though, fair warning, he's going to fall asleep not too long into the session.

When you gift him the portrait, he is so amazed at the level of skill. Like in his eyes, it's the most beautiful portrait in the world and he will absolutely say so. He'll stop susing it if it's embarrassing to you, but you can't stop him from thinking it.

He'll happy put it some place where he can look at it every, still in shock that would make such an amazing piece of art for him. He decides to get you something in return as a thank you, hoping that the gift would mean as much to you as yours does to him.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

"You want to paint a portrait of me, little human? Of course, you do. Who wouldn't want to a paint a magnificent fae?" Outwardly, he's cocky and cool headed about you wanting to paint a portrait of him. Inwardly however, he was freaking out. He was already confused by his feelings for you, but you doing something like that for him just complicated things for him.

When the portrait is finished and you hand it to him, he almost gives up his true feelings. He just stares at it for a long time before turning to you, using the time he was looking away to get control of his feelings. "This is a great piece of art, for a human." You ignore his words, smiling at the small thank you you heard him mutter before he quickly walked off.

He hurried back to his room so that he could admire the painting more and find the perfect place to put it. Despite being a full-sized portrait, it soon finds a place on the wall next to the portrait of Malleus. It's perfect. A portrait of his prince next to a portrait of himself painted by his most precious human.

#fluffy worm #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twst x gender neutral reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fluff headcanons #twst fluff

[gliphyartfan]

@yandere-linked-universe @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @justanerd1

A quick one! sorry for the messiness folks! but I simply couldn't end/start the year without at least ONE small thing. (And the other thing that was SUPPOSED to be posted today isn't anywhere near finished)

I'll draw something for this a bit later, but for now, I hope you enjoy this small piece!

(Didn't know where to start it so I just wrote the main part and end, enjoy!)

...

.....

The container shot high into the sky, leaving a smoky streak in it's wake.

When it reached it's highest point, Wild detonated the bomb within the container.

For a moment, nothing, then, as the container blew apart, the sky bloomed into a shower of sparkling light.

(y/n) gasped loudly as glittery streaks of gold and white flew across the night sky.

Even though she had experienced many fireworks shows before, this one was absolutely breathtaking in its beauty. Her eyes lit with delight. reflecting the sight of the shimmering lights exploding over the vastness of the dark sky.

For a brief moment, she wasn't in Hyrule, nor back home. she was in a place that only ever existed during moments like this. Entranced by the lights and sounds, she could only stand there, hands clasped together against her chest, feeling her heart pounding as container after container followed the first one. She felt like a little girl again, sitting on her father's shoulders as she watched her first show.

Remembering how much she screamed in glee and pointed at her favorite ones. Her family cheering along with her.

Her homesickness went away as she was swept by her nostalgic memories, yet also stayed at the same time. What day was it back home? How was her family, her friends? Were they celebrating the holidays yet? if so, were they seeing fireworks too? Maybe, a deep part of her hoped, they were watching their own fireworks at the same time.

She hoped so.

It made her sad to think about. But happy, because this was simply another memory she was making. So many things to tell her loved ones when she found a way home.

She doesn't know what the future held for her, but she hoped there were more happy memories for everyone.

A hand rested itself on her shoulder, she looked to her right and saw Sky smiling gently at her.

"We hope you like it." He said quietly, barely heard amongst the explosions.

She returned his smile with one of her own, reaching up and clutching his hand with hers, and turned back to the beautiful display.

"I love it." she said in return, her voice cracking a bit. Her eyes welling up with tears from the overwhelming emotion she felt.

She was so touched by this. They didn't have to do this for her, but they did and she couldn't thank her friends enough.

She could hear Wild and Wind laughing loudly as they continued to set off the rest of the containers, The sailor manipulating the winds to gather the glittering items from the sky and sweeping them up into shapes and swirls at Wild's loud commands.

Time and Twilight were sitting on the grass just ahead of her, silently admiring the view, Hyrule and Four to the side, pointing at shapes that caught their eye.

She could hear Warriors loudly complain to Legend to not stand so close to him, with the veteran sarcastically throwing back his own retort.

A small gathering of friends, and a small celebration for the sake of good memories.

She smiled widely, content to enjoy this moment, only to gasp and laugh in glee as one last container shot higher then all the others, and then it stopped, shooting and fell back down towards the earth. It took a few seconds of silence before it exploded, showering the entire forest in brilliant shades of red, yellow, silver, orange and blue. A sight that could never be replaced by anything else.

And then it happened again, and again, and again until she felt dizzy with the endless stream of lights bursting overhead. The explosions kept going and going for what seemed like hours until she could no longer count the number of explosions or the amount of different types of firework colors. All she knew was that it was beautiful.

Moments like this were worth remembering.

She was so happy to be a part of this memory.

---

"She asleep?" Warriors asked, gathering what dragon scales he found on the ground.

"Out like a light," Twilight answered, a large smile on his face. "All that excitement wore her out."

"I told you she would love it!" Wild exclaimed proudly, high-fiving Wind.

"That you did," Time nodded in agreement. "It was a beautiful display."

"Especially the last one!" Hyrule sighed happily as he recalled it. "It was completely unexpected, but I guess that's what made it so memorable."

"Worth the noise." Legend threw in.

"Yeah but gathering all those star fragments and dragon scales was a pain, so don't expect another show anytime." Wild groaned , rolling his shoulders. "I'm pretty sure I'm never gonna see half of those star fragments again with how far they scattered."

"Why do you have so many of them anyway?" Warriors asked, handing the scales he gathered back to Wild.

Wild snatched them from his hands and huffed. "None of your business, that's why."

Twilight chuckled and messed with Wild's hair, "Having regrets cub?" Wild brushed his hand off his head.

"Not on your life."

"Though, I do think we should all follow (y/n)'s example and get some sleep." Four yawned, stretching out. "It is rather late and I don't think she's the only one wiped out."

Warriors looked at Wild, "Think we'll find more of your things tomorrow?"

Wild scoffed. "In this large place? Absolutely not."

"Then it's time to get some sleep everyone, who has first watch?" As Time said that, he motioned for everyone to head into the cabin to gather their sleeping supplies.

Wild stood up, yawning himself before he noticed Wind looking deep in thought.

"Rupee for your thoughts?" Wind hummed, tapping his chin.

"I'm just thinking..." Wild waited for him to continue but Wind stayed silent.

"...and?" Wind thought a moment more before sighing.

"It's just...where did that container come from?"

"Hm?"

"We only made like...12 of them. so when did you have time to make the 13th one...?"

Wild looked at him, eyes as confused as his were.

"I thought you made it." Wind blinked.

"I didn't make that one." They stood there, both trying to figure out

Who could've made that container. Neither having any idea who it could've been.

"...Nope.." Wind shook his head and started to make his way to the cabin.

Wild was even more confused, "huh?"

"I didn't make it. You didn't make it. and we both know the others didn't make it. So I'm gonna say nope, and go to bed."

"...but aren't you curious?"

"Nope." With that Wind went back into the cabin, leaving Wild throw off.

He stared off after him, trying to wrap his head around it.

He decided he would try to figure it out when he woke up the next morning.

Or not.

...Maybe Wind has the right idea.

...

------

As everyone gathered inside to get ready for bed, a light giggle was heard amongst the wind and leaves.

A figure sitting on one of the tall branches of the trees, kicking their legs and watching the light of the campfire slowly dim and listening to the faint noise of the others inside.

"Hee hee~"

Being tossed up in the air and back down onto their hand was one of Wild's star fragments a small bag to their side showed a decent amount of dragon scales and fragments inside. Their quiet laughter emphasized by the smile carved on the pumpkin sitting on their head.

"Silly~ Messy Sillies~"

And as quickly as they made themselves known to the trees, they faded away, the bag left behind. the star fragment that they had been tossing in the air falling to the ground below, their light giggles melding with the rustling leaves. Gone before anyone knew they were there.

"Hee Hee~"

...

(Happy New Year everyone!)

#linked universe #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #loz #linked universe x reader #lu sky #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu time #lu legend #lu twilight #Lu wind #lu wild #lu four #Happy New Year!

[likedovesinthewindd]

I just read "a sunny day" and I was really delighted, could there be a second part? 💗🙏

thank you sm this took me too long im so sorry i was stumped trying to get this going and schools beating my ass, but here you go hope you like🩷

part one's here

a Sunny day pt. 2

steve harrington x mom!reader

summary: steve finally gets that date

warning: mentions of pregnancy, if you see anything else pls lemme know

wc: ±2820

a/n: not (fully) proofread

Steve's nerves were through the roof as he stood in front of your apartment door. His left hand has been in a knocking position for over five minutes now, and the right held on tightly to a bouquet of roses. He didn't want to ask you what your favorite color of roses would be because he didn't want to ruin the suprise, so he asked the man who worked at the small florist shop what color would work best for impressing a girl. The man silently threw together a few different batches and after a few moments handed steve a beautiful bouquet consisting of white and diffrent shades of pink, prettily wrapped in pink cellophane paper.

He took a moment to look down at his outfit; a light blue polo tucked neatly into his jeans and a pair of Reebocks. He took his hand, nervously straightening out the nonexistent wrinkles on the material of his shirt before scraping together all his courage and knocking on your door softly. After a few moments you opened the door, and when he saw you his jaw nearly fell to the floor.

You looked so pretty, he thought, with a sage green sundress and a pair of white kitten heel sandals. Your hair was clipped to the back of your head, with a few loose pieces framing your face.

"Hi," you said smiling at him, "you look cute."

And you look absolutely breathtaking he wanted to say, but the nerves caused the words to get stuck in his throat. He swallowed thickly before stuttering out, "Thank you. You look- you look...wow." You couldn't help but giggle at his nervous demeanor, your eyes falling to the beautiful bouquet in his hands. "Oh, uh these are for you," he said handing it to you with shaky hands.

"They're so pretty, thank you so much Steve," you said taking the flowers from him and almost immediately bringing them up to your nose. Steve could swear you were an angel with the way you said his name.

"Do you mind coming in for a minute?" you asked opening the door wider and stepping aside from the entrance to make room for Steve. "I know you said four but I just need to finish dressing Sunny, she was a bit cranky this afternoon so I let her nap a little longer than usual. It'll only be five minutes I promise," you rambled, looking through the kitchen cupboards for a vase. "It's no problem, we have the whole night," he said. You turned around to face him, a big glass vase in one hand and your flowers in the other.

"Thank you," you said, "do you mind quickly filling this up with water? I just wanna go finish with Sunny." "Oh yeah sure, give it to me," Steve said taking the vase and flowers from you. You gave him a appreciative nod before scurrying off to the bedroom to finish dressing your daughter.

As Steve stood by the sink he got the chance to look around a little. The apartment was small but cozy. You had managed to make it feel very homey and comfortable. The apartment had one bedroom and a bathroom, and the kitchen and living area sort of merged together. In the living area there was small couch, next to it a big pink beanbag chair, and a TV that stood on the carpeted floor. In the middle stood a small coffee table with a stick of insence burning, giving the apartment a calming vanilla scent.

When the vase was filled with water, he carefully removed the paper from the flowers and placed them inside. The fridge in the kitchen caught his attention. There were various drawings from Sunny stuck to the door of the fridge with fruit-shaped magnets. They were a bit difficult to make out, most of them just looking like inconsistent crayon scrabbles. The biggest picture on the fridge he could make out; two smiling pink stick figures drawn messily surrounded by deeply pressed-in circles of various colours. On the bottom of the page stood "family" written neatly by you.

Just when he was contemplating asking how far you were, you emerged from the bedroom, with Sunny soon following after. Steve couldn't help but smile when he saw how cute she looked, wearing a baby blue dress with pink stockings underneath. Her hair was done much more neater than the last time he saw her; two braided ponytails with ribbons tied onto the end of each braid. Sunny smiled when she recognized Steve, who was awkwardly standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Say hi to Steve, sweetheart," you urged your daughter on, while you quickly put out the insence and searched for your purse. "Hi Steve," she said shyly, clinging to her mother as she put her purse over her shoulder and Sunny's jacket over her arm. "Hi Sunny," he greated back the little girl, who was no longer interested in him, but in the vase of flowers that stood on the kitchen table.

"Okay, I've got everything, we can go now," you said smiling at Steve.

°☆○□°◇

Steve took you and Sunny out to a nice restaurant where he had urged both of you to buy whatever you wanted. You got a headache just looking at the prices of everything on the menu, but as soon as you opened your mouth to object he interrupted you. "I wanted to take you out," he said, "so it's only right I treat you nice. Please don't worry about the prices or anything, just enjoy yourself."

And that's exactly what you did. After a thoroughly enjoyed dinner he took you out to get ice-cream, just like he had promised Sunny. You kindly refused, too stuffed from the heavy dinner, but Sunny fully indulged, buying a three scoop ice-cream with a sugar cone and finished off with sprinkles. You were a bit scared that all that sugar was going to keep her up all night, but you decided to let it slide when you saw how happy she was.

And now the three of you were taking a walk in the park. Your were holding the heels you had worn in your one hand, the other holding on to your daughter's much smaller hand. After wearing sneakers or flats for so long, your feet still had to get used to even kitten heels, plus the small straps of the sandal were starting to hurt your feet.

The park was wonderful this time of day, when most people had already gone home, so it felt like you had it all to yourself. You and Steve talked the whole way through, about anything and everything.

He learned a lot of things about you. He finally learned your name, for once. He learned that you're not from Hawkins, and that you moved here after graduating high school. He learned that you worked as a household worker and as a waitress at a dive bar some nights too. He also learned that you loved baking and that you know how to say the alphabet backwards and that you couldn't stand it when people burped without saying "excuse me."

He could listen to you talk for hours, he was totally and utterly entranced by you. After all the crazy shit he'd seen and been through, it felt so good to have a bit of calm in the shape of you.

When you passed the playground, Sunny, who was too preoccupied with her giant ice cream, tugged on your dress to try and get your attention. "Mommy can I go play on the playground, please?" she asked looking up at you with big puppy eyes; the ones she knew you could never say no to. "You don't mind do you?" you asked looking to Steve, who scoffed. "Of course not," he said. Soon Sunny was dragging you towards the swingset.

She handed you here half melted ice-cream and sauntered over towards the swings, that were definitely meant for children a bit older than her. Steve decided to help her out a bit, lifting her up on the swing seat and pushing her, laughing at the way she would giggle and her little legs would swing back and forth frantically whenever he pushed her a bit higher.

She did this with every other object in the playground, asking Steve to either push her of something or lift her up to somewhere. You couldn't help but laugh when she had somehow convinced him to run around the roundabout a few times to get it turning. She played like this to her little heart's content, and until she was practically worn out.

□◇☆°▪︎●

When Steve's car stopped in front of the Motel, you turned around in your seat, to find Sunny buckled up tightly and fast assleep. When you turned back to Steve, you found him already looking at you with admiration-filled eyes and a dopey smile. The light from the Motel's cheap sign shined directly on him, covering him in a bright purple hue.

"We had so much fun tonight, Steve. Thank you so much," you said smiling at him. There you go again he thought, saying his name like that. Like he was the only guy in the world. "I'm glad you had fun," he said before once scraping together the courage to ask, "so uh, you think we could, you know, do this again some time again?"

You pretended to think it over before quietly saying, "Id really like that."

○■•▪︎☆°◇

Steve helped you by carrying a still-sleeping Sunny up the steel stairs to your apartment. You unlocked the door and led him to your bedroom. When you opened the door, the first thing he noticed were the strings that hung from the ceiling, multiple colored stars hanging from each one.

You took Sunny from his arms and carefully placed her on the bed, taking off her shoes. As you were busy, Steve's attention fell to the small wooden vanity on the other side of the room. On the table stood three small ceramic figurines. Two of them were small fairies, one sitting upright on a mushroom and the other hanging lazily off a tree branch. The third figurine was of a mermaid posing on a rock, her hair cascading off her back.

The table was also littered with a bunch of framed photos of you and your daughter. One was of you in hospital, smiling tiredly at the camers with a newborn Sunny in your arms, wrapped in a thick blanket. Another one was of a still pregnant you, showing off your very prominent baby bump. You were at the beach, sitting on a big towel in a sundress with a floppy sun hat and a pair of sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose.

Another photo looked as if it were taken quite recently. He picked it up to give it a better look. It was of you and Sunny wearing matching Christmas hats, Sunny in a green and red onesie with her arms wrapped tightly around your neck. He smiled at your content expression.

By now you had quietly joined him standing by the vanity, also smiling at the memory of last Christmas, when you and Sunny had visited your mother.

"I tried to make this room more hers than I did mine," you said quietly, "hence all the decorations and figurines and stuff."

"Thats very nice of you," Steve said turning to you and smiling. "You're a really good mom to her," he added after a few moments. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing a good job," you said looking back at Sunny sleeping soundly. You refused to make eye contact again, rather looking down at your feet. This caused Steve to frown. "I don't think that's true at all," he said quietly, "Sunny's such a sweet girl, much nicer than any other three year old I've met I'll tellya that." This made you laugh a little. "She's as kind and as sweet as she is because you raise her well. You take good care of her and you give her as much as you possibly can under the circumstances. She's going to grow up one day and thank you for that because you're a good mom."

When you finally decided up at him again, he was staring at you like you were God's greatest gift to man. You couldn't help but feel as such too, your stomach churning nervously and your cheeks feeling hot from all the attention. "Would you like to stay for some tea? I made gingerbread," you said trying to break the silence after realizing you had just been staring at him.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

●○°☆◇▪︎○

As you and Steve sat on the couch facing each other, each with a cup of semi-cold tea, he couldn't help but admire you for the millionth time that night. You were talking about something embarrassing that had happened to you in high school, and Steve was trying to listen, but he was too focused on how you moved your hands when you got excited about something, or how you furrowed your brows and bit your lip when trying to remember something, or how beautiful your smile is. Oh how incredibly beautiful he found your smile. He felt like the best man in the world every time he managed to make you smille.

"Shit, after that, I absolutely despised gym class," you said laughing quietly, as to not wake up Sunny. Steve smiled at how pretty you looked when you laughed. It's unfair that anyone could look that pretty just existing he thought.

After a few moments of comfortable silence and the sound of the TV softly playing some old movie in the background, you spoke up again. "You know," you started, "Sunny's real name is actually Selene, like in mythology." "Yeah?" Steve said, "that's a beautiful name."

"Thank you. It's ironic actually because Selene is like the god of moonlight, now we end up calling her Sunny all the time," you said laughing, "My mom was the one who started calling her Sunshine, because she was always such a happy baby. Even now she doesn't even cry unless she's really upset you know? She's the best thing that's ever happened to me." You smiled, placing your empty tea cup on the coffee table.

"I was serious about what I said y'know? I really do believe you're a great mom to her," Steve said. "Thanks," you smiled, unshed tears lining your eyes. "Its getting late big guy, I think it's time to get going before it gets too dark," you said, trying to stop yourself from crying, giving his knee a playful slap as you stood up from the couch.

☆•°□▪︎

As Steve stood in front of your door once again that night, you couldn't help the sinking feeling forming in your stomach. You didn't want the night to end; you still wanted to talk to Steve and get to know him and laugh at his stupid jokes. But the possibility of a second date caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach, thinking about getting to see him again.

"So, I'll see you soon, yeah?," you said smiling up at him. You couldn't even remember the last time you smiled this much. "Yeah, real soon," he said.

For a few seconds you two just stood in silence, neither wanting to be the first to give the parting word. You moved a little closer to him, testing the water, and when you saw him moving closer as well you decided to give in, and leaned in, gently placing your lips over his. A few seconds into the kiss Steve's mind finally caught up with him, and he kissed you back, placing his one hand on your cheek and the other on your lower back.

After you pulled away, Steve's eyes were still closed tightly. You laughed at his theatrics, lighty slapping his shoulder. When he reopened his eyes, he instantly wished he had kept them closed, because the look you were giving him was making his knees feel like jello.

"Goodnight Steve," you said walking to your door, turning around one last time before opening it, "I'll call you tomorrow at work, alright?"

"I'll be waiting," Steve said, "Goodnight, and be safe alright? Both of you." "Of course," you smiled, opening your door, giving him a small wave before closing it. When you closed your door, you couldn't help but jump around frantically, placing your hands over your rapidly beating heart. You couldn't wait to talk to him tomorrow.

Steve himself had to take a moment to calm himself down as he sat in his car, the window rolled all the way down just so that he could get some fresh air. He looked up at where your apartment was, and a huge grin broke out on his face, his stomach doing somersaults. Tomorrow couldn't come any sooner.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you #likedovesinthewindd

[dddomenstarstwst1]

Day 4: Lingerie — Trey Clover

Warnings: sub!Trey, dom!gn!reader, nipple play, nipple sucking, biting, praise kink

Trey was disappointed in himself, he once again couldn't stand a chance against your puppy eyes. A reflection in a bathroom mirror made him look away, too embarrassed to see himself in a deep green two-piece lingerie that you ever-so-generously bought for him.

"Trey, dear? Are you done?" He was hoping you'd fallen asleep with how long it took him to compose himself and then wear the luxurious piece. But you were still waiting for him to come out and reveal himself.

"Y-yeah, close your eyes," you chuckled to yourself, before closing your eyes. Trey sighed and stepped inside the bedroom, he tried to cover himself with his hands. "You can look now."

You slowly open your eyes, adjusting your vision, and see Trey awkwardly shifting his weight from on leg to another. He had his eyes glued to the floor, too afraid to look at you. "Wow," you barely could hold a gasp, he looked really good in what you got him. The color matched his hair and gave you a really fancy feeling.

"S-stop staring at me. This was a bad idea, I'm taking it off." You get up and swiftly approach the spot he was standing on. Your hands flied to his shoulders, feeling the soft material under your skin. You teasingly slid your fingers down to his chest, playing with the lace.

"Well, aren't you the cutest thing. Why so shy, if you already put it on? I think you look absolutely breathtaking." You let your hands palm Trey's chest that fit exactly right into the bra. You circled one of his nipples with your thumb, drawing quiet gasps from the boy in front of you.

"Your nipples are so sensitive, aren't they? Want me to play with them more?" Trey stayed silent, so you squeezed the bud you played with, hearing a low groan in return. Your boyfriend nodded, looking a bit sulky from the abuse to his chest. You moved your hands behind Trey and unhooked his bra, letting it fall to the ground.

You led Trey to the bed, sitting on the edge, "Sit," you pointed at your lap, and he carefully placed his weight on top of you. Your hand went back to playing with his nipple, pressing the flat of your tongue to the other one. You wrapped your lips around the bud, circling it with the tip of your tongue.

Trey breathed heavily, intertwining his fingers in your hair. He wanted to pull you away, but his hand only pressed you closer. You let go of his nipple with a "pop", licked your lips and went for the other one. You sucked harshly, rolling your tongue over it and sinking your teeth in the flesh around the nipple. Then again and again in different places, leaving flesh bite marks all over Trey's chest.

"I'm definitely buying you more lingerie. Hm, maybe you should wear it even in public, under your dorm and school uniform. You'd like that, yeah?" You dragged your nails across his chest, making Trey cling to you, whimpering like a slut. He shook his head, trying to disagree with your words. He desperately wanted to think it wasn't true, that he wasn't going to like this, he was just doing it to make you happy. Yet in the end...

...you were speaking the truth.

#kinktober #kinktober masterlist #kinktober day 4 #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #sub!character #sub!twst #sub!twisted wonderland #dom!reader #dom!gn!reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #trey clover smut

[story-told]

All Warfare is Deception

Or- Tankhun and holding power in secret

*Rubs palms together in evil glee* Finally, the Iconique, the ruler of hearts, the breathtaking... Tankhun Theerapanyakul, everyone!!

Let's start with setting up who he is. Tankhun is the oldest of Korn's children- the man who was supposed to inherit the Major clan's reigns, but couldn't because of the deep trauma that he went through by being kidnapped (perhaps multiple times) through his early years. More on this later. (Side Note: I won't be going through Tankhun's trauma and the effects that has on the entire power structure of the Theerapanyakul clan now. That's for a future post *wink, wink*)

Now for how he presents himself and how he's perceived. What is interesting about Tankhun is that he wields his appearance as a weapon (unlike Kinn, who power dresses as an expression of his innate self-assuredness and dominant personality). Think bold colours, dynamic and stark silhouettes, bulky fabrics, shiny and those shoulder pads.

He's modeled his somaesthetic presentation to project an invulnerable image- impenetrable, larger-than-life (think Princess Diana in her Revenge Wardrobe, or Michelle Obama and her power suits). And it does achieve that, to an extent, but in a world of black and navy- he sticks out like a sore thumb and is seen as comedic (see: Don Aprile's opinion on colourful clothing in the mafia- Omertà by Mario Puzo). What is does do, however, is draw people closer- moths to the flame. All in all, Tankhun commands - nay, demands- your attention. Look at me, he dares you. You cannot touch me, his sharp shoulder pads say.

Look at his personality. He appears to be a harmless oddball; lovable and eccentric. He acts (dare I say it) childishly, he behaves unapologetically other. In fact, he comes across as so guileless and brutally honest that you want to trust P'Khun. You want to dote on Khun Nu.

Guess what? Politics 101, the most stable of power requires trust. Tankhun has absolute legitimacy because he has the trust of the people around him- an abundance of Referent Personal Power. And so he manages to pull and hold the affection and loyalty of his guards. Pol, Arm, Pete, and (for whatever little time he was on Tankhun duty) Porsche. Mind you, this is something not even Kinn has been able to do. Even the irreverent Porsche addresses Tankhun in the formal register (addressing himself as phom, using the male respectful particle khrap and addressing Tankhun as Khun). Here, he makes personal allegiance his power, he makes love his power.

And yet, there is a calculation to him. Tankhun is the most observant and genuinely intelligent Theerapanyakul (yes, including Vegas). He observes, he makes you comfortable enough to share, he keeps his eyes open and plays these cards close to his chest. He has information, he has it about everybody and their mother and he has it in spades.

Information (the access to and control of information), my friends, is the first base of power (French and Raven, 1995)- especially in the Mafia world. He knows things that could bring down all the Kings and the Princes in a second. Also important is how he trusts his intuition and is right almost 100% of the times wtf Tankhun teach me your ways.

Which is an extremely important trait for a leader to have (Shklar, 1958; Kolbe, 2019).

Now then. Let's revisit P'Tankhun- the oldest Theerapanyakul brother.

He has absolute power. He has Korn's (near absolute) trust, all of Kinn's confidences, Kim's secrets. Not even Vegas dares to stand up to him (as articulated beautifully by @a-tiny-dreamie in this post). He has a place at the table for the innermost discussions and most vital decision-making processes of the Major Clan. Right beside the current Don and the Underboss. Refer back to @luckydragon10 's Lines of Power meta for Ep. 9 for more in-depth exploration of Tankhun's power projection.

Additionally, as @thatgirl4815 has posited in her post , Tankhun is very high up on Papa Korn's list of strategic importance his damn chessboard istg imma lose it. He is Kinn's shoulder-angel. I don't think him advising his nong to just fucking shank that bitch T*wan was the first time. Khun is Kinn's most trusted counsel, even over Porsche. That's a younger sibling's blind faith in their Big Brother- that's the power of the oldest sibling in an Asian family.

Also, in political theory, it is widely accepted that a dynasty will always look up to the firstborn as being extremely powerful and the de facto head of family, heir or no (Andeweg, 2003). Sound familiar?

In conclusion (one last gif of Tankhun bc I love him)

Tankhun is Sun Tzu's idea of the perfect general, the master of his own mind and that of others. He hides his razor-sharpness behind capes and feathers, he lulls you into a false sense of sympathy. And, as the Artist of War said, any idiot can pick a fight- it takes a true master to let your opponent drop the victory in your lap of their own volition.

#tankhun theerapanyakul #i am a firm believer in #tankhun supremacy #tong my beloved #kinnporsche power analysis #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche the series

[deafeningladyruins]

A swim to remember

Back with another little story with Loki

As Loki and I arrived at the private swimming area, a secluded oasis surrounded by lush greenery, anticipation filled the air. The sparkling waters beckoned us to dive in and escape the world for a while. As we approached the edge of the pool, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with the warmth of Loki's hand in mine.

Loki turned to me with a mischievous smile. "Are you ready for our little aquatic adventure, my love?" he asked, his eyes filled with playful anticipation. I grinned, feeling the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. "Absolutely. Let's make some unforgettable memories today," I replied, squeezing his hand.

With each step, the worries of the outside world melted away, leaving only the two of us in this hidden paradise. The sun's golden rays danced on the water's surface, creating a mesmerizing display that mirrored the growing affection between us.

As we waded into the crystal-clear pool, the cool water embraced our bodies, refreshing us from the summer heat. Loki swam closer, his eyes locked with mine.

He chuckled softly. "You look breathtaking in the water, my love. Like a mythical creature from the depths of the ocean," Loki said, his voice filled with admiration. I blushed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "And you, my mischievous god, are irresistible," I replied, splashing water playfully towards him.

Our playful splashes gradually transformed into gentle caresses, our fingers intertwining under the water. Loki's touch sent shivers down my spine, a feeling of connection that transcended the physical realm. We moved closer, our bodies drawing together as if pulled by an invisible force.

In the water's embrace, Loki's gaze held a mixture of desire and tenderness. His lips brushed against mine, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each stolen kiss. The world around us faded into insignificance as our bodies pressed against each other, the water amplifying the intensity of our shared moment.

Loki pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a softness I had never seen before. "I never knew love could feel so profound," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. I smiled, my heart overflowing with emotion. "With you, Loki, every moment is magical. You've opened my eyes to a love I never thought possible," I confessed, my voice filled with sincerity.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm orange glow over the horizon, we found ourselves floating side by side. Loki's arms wrapped protectively around me, his heartbeat reverberating against my back. In that serene moment, time stood still, and all that mattered was the unbreakable bond we shared.

Loki rested his head against mine, his voice filled with tenderness. "I love you more than words can express. This place, this moment—it's a testament to the depth of our love," he murmured, his words a gentle caress against my ear. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes as I looked into his eyes, my voice filled with emotion. "And I love you with all my heart, Loki. You've shown me a love that transcends space and time," I whispered, sealing our love with a kiss.

In that private swimming area, as the day faded into night, our love blossomed amidst the whispers of the water. We knew that this place would forever hold a special meaning for us, a sanctuary where our souls had merged and our love had reached new depths.

Don’t copy my stories. Thank you for all your likes with my other writings. Check my writings.

#tumblr #loki #pride #pride month #writers on tumblr #writing #writer things #loki fluff #loki my beloved #loki series #loki x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston #loki imagine #i love you #love #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddelston imagine #cuddles #affectionate cuddling #loki x you #aesthetic #romance #romantic

[jjchantill]

One Date: Lewis Tan

      You're nervous, really nervous. This was your first date since your big breakup, and it was a blind date set up by one of your friends. You had no idea what this guy looked like or even who he was as your friend wanted to go in one hundred percent blind. You glance over at the clock before smoothing down your dress for the millionth time and taking a deep breath. Taking one last glance in the mirror, you grab your keys and head to the restaurant, your heart going a mile a minute.

A Few Minutes Later...

You take another subtle glance around, hoping to spot your blind date before he spots you. You had shown up a few minutes early hoping that a drink at the bar would calm your nerves. When a voice draws your attention, you have just raised your glass to your lips.

"Wow, I knew you would clean up well, but I had no idea you would look absolutely breathtaking."

"I like to make a good first impression," you say, turning around.

"You're doing a lot more than that, Sweetheart."

You laugh, "what are you doing here, Lewis? My date could be here any minute and no offense, but if he sees me talking to you, he might believe that he doesn't have a shot."

He shakes his head, "oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

You quirk an eyebrow up at him, "is that so?"

"Yep, the guy seems pretty confident in himself so I don't think it will be an issue."

"And how would you know?" you ask.

He shrugs, "I just know."

You glance down at your phone, "speaking of...where is this guy? He was supposed to be here like five minutes ago. I swear Lewis if you set me up with one of your little flakey Hollywood friends, I'll kill you."

"Relax, he's already here."

"What? Where?" you ask, looking around.

He laughs, "he's right here, Sweetheart."

He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it before you pull your hand away. Anger floods your veins as you realize that Lewis is talking about himself and that he actually hadn't set you up on a date at all. The two of you had dated briefly a few years prior, but you had ended things. He wanted to remain friends and even though you were a little reluctant you agreed but only on the condition that he would let everything that happened in the past go. Something that he apparently didn't do.

"You've got to be kidding me," you say, grabbing your stuff and heading out the door.

"Where are you going?" he asks, following you.

"Home. I should have known that you weren't setting me up on a date. That you were going to try this bullshit again."

"I don't understand why you won't give us another chance. And how is this bullshit? We were good together and the only reason we ended things was because of you because you were afraid."

You whirl around to face him, "afraid? You think that I ended things because I was afraid? I ended things, Lewis because I didn't want to be in your precious Hollywood spotlight. I ended things because there were people all over the world commenting on what I was wearing and where I was buying my groceries and even where I took my freaking cat to the vet. I ended things because people everywhere were telling me that I was only going to hold you back. I ended things because I wasn't good enough for the amazingly talented Lewis Tan."

"I...I had no idea. Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me? I could have said something. I would have..."

"You would have what? Dropped everything? Stopped acting? Told your fans off? I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to have to choose and that's what you would have had to do. It would have been me and your dream and I wasn't going to let you make that decision because..."

"Because I would have picked you," he whispers.

You nod, "you worked so hard to get your big break that I couldn't let you lose it because of me so, I ended things. I made it easier for you to keep living your dreams because you didn't have anyone holding you back."

"Easier? Baby, nothing was easier once you left. My heart shattered when I let you walk out that door. Hell, I asked to stay friends just so I could keep you in my life. You're my everything, the reason that I do what I do. Being with you was the easiest thing I have ever had to do, but trying to get over you...baby, getting over you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and I can't do it," he says.

"Lewis..."

"One date. That's all I'm asking for, one date. If you still think that this isn't worth it, that we're not worth it then I'll never bring it up again."

"We'll go back to being just friends?" you ask.

"We'll go back to being whatever you want us to be," he says.

You think it over before nodding, "okay."

A/N: And that's part one. I had no intention of turning this into a two-parter but that's what it's going to be. Anyway, let me know if you guys want part 2!

#imagines #imagine #preferences #preference #Lewis Tan #lewis tan imagines #lewis tan imagine #lewis tan preferences #lewis tan preference

[luveline]

spinning on that dizzy edge [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: fluff, sexual tension, established relationship

word count: 1.4k

summary: fred gets kicked off the quidditch team and has some unused energy (idiots in love)

Fred Weasley looked absolutely breathtaking in his quidditch kit. His broad shoulders and corded arms were tightly encapsulated by the red and brown of the Gryffindor uniform. When he moved his arms up to whack an oncoming bludger, his shoulder blades moved seamlessly upwards, his bicep muscles contracted. The force behind his powerful swings was emphasised by the glaring sunlight, every shadow and highlight dialled to a thousand. You used a charm to enhance your eyesight so that even when he was half a mile away across the field, you could still see the tilt of his mouth, his charming smirk. The way his hair was made up of tens of colours, golden in the sun rays.

Godric, you were lovesick.

The game was drawing to a close. It had been long fought, Fred's younger brother had joined the team as their Keeper. The Slytherin team and spectators were singing their stupid chant louder than ever, you could hardly hear yourself think over them all.

"Weasley is our king!"

You scowled. From your house stand, you could see both Fred and George landing their brooms at the same time. Harry was in front of them, mouthing off at the Slytherin team captain by the look of his face.

Somebody must have said something hurtful, because suddenly Harry and George were throwing themselves forwards. Your fellow Hufflepuffs rallied, rising forward to watch the fight progress.

Fred was being held back. Your heart was pounding erratically, watching the anger grow on his face. It took 3 other members of the team to hold him back.

Oh my god, you thought in a panic. And then,

It really takes 3 other guys to hold him back?

You shook your head. What were you thinking! Fred's brothers were fighting and you were getting all hot and bothered by Fred's strength. He just looked so tall, and wide...

Madame Hooch strode out onto the field in a fury, Professor McGonagall hot in her heels. You tried to push through the crowd of the stand. It took you ages to descend the steps and get into the field. Fred, George and Harry were all red faced, Harry's knuckles spattered red. McGonagall was screaming about how their muggle duelling was a shame to the school.

You had just about reached the chasers when Umbridge appeared.

You couldn’t hear too well, the crowd that had gathered filling your senses. Your eyes widened, shocked at what you were seeing. Umbridge had confiscated their brooms. People were either booing or staring in shocked silence.

"This is rubbish! They can't be banned, that's half the bloody team!" said the chaser to your left.

Your eyes widened. Banned?! He couldn't be banned from quidditch! Fred lived and breathed quidditch!

McGonagall was shouting to be heard, "Please, return to your common rooms at once!" The crowd was dissipating fast. The Gryffindor team stood in silence, the abject misery felt between them all.

Fred was furious. You could almost see steam rolling off his shoulders.

You were unsure of yourself. You'd never seen Fred so angry before, you were afraid to see him. Not because you thought he would ever do anything to you, just that you were afraid of being an extra annoyance for him. Self-doubt niggled at the back of your mind.

He caught you in the corner of his eye and turned to you. The anger and annoyance on his face fell away.

"Y/N!" he said. He pulled you up into his arms without preamble. He was 6 foot 2 so, although you'd always felt tall, your feet left the ground. He turned you gently from side to side squeezing your chests together. You smiled, your eyes closed into his hair.

He put you down, though his arms stayed wrapped under your armpits to enclose your back with his large hands. Your arms were forced up onto his shoulders.

"So," you said hesitantly, "no more quidditch?"

He frowned, remembering the matter at hand. "That insipid frog. What's worse is I didn't even get in on the action. I'm banned for 'intention' to fight." He blew the hair out of his eyes.

You could tell he was much more angry than he was letting on. "Pink bitch," you said.

He gasped, laughing at your sudden swearing. You grinned, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "What have I done to you?" he questioned.

More than you know, you thought to yourself.

"Hey, Fred!" You looked over to the team captain, Angelina. She looked furious.

"Right. Best go get changed for my complimentary whipping," said Fred. "See you tonight?"

"Yes," you said, embarrassingly quick. "Tonight."

He grinned again, dotting a firm kiss on your forehead.

You watched him jog to catch up with the retreating team. God, he was lovely.

-

A few days later and the team was still reeling. Fred was a little less sarcastic and chipper than usual, which was... odd. You did your best to cheer him up, offering him sweets and trinkets you thought he might like. You even offered to test some of his puking pastilles, though quickly regretted it.

"I won't hold you to it," he'd said impishly.

He was at his worst when they were replaced. You didn't think the reality had quite set in until then. You were bundled up in one of the secret passageways. You hadn't even know they'd existed until Fred showed you them, and you made good use of them. It was total privacy in a castle that barely afforded it. The rush of maybe being caught wasn't nearly as missed as being able to spend time with him again after Umbridge's new rules.

"Not many people know about them," he'd told you. "So we won't have to worry about Filch or the Inquisting git's finding us."

He was lying on the throw you'd laid out, arm over his eyes, the other in your lap.

You were sitting beside him, book in hand. It was awful difficult turning the pages with one hand, but some sacrifices must be made. It was poetry. Occasionally, you'd read out a line you loved. Fred entertained this without complaint.

"’And all her face was honey to my mouth, And all her body pasture to mine eyes; The long lithe arms and hotter hands than fire, The quivering flanks, hair smelling of the south,’" you read. Fred moved his arm from his face to gaze at you lovingly.

"It's as if I wrote it myself."

You rolled your eyes before continuing, "’The bright light feet, the splendid supple thighs And glittering eyelids of my soul’s desire.’”

"I never imagined my 'souls desire' with such attributes, but who am I to argue with such an attentive scholar."

You jostled him, tightening the grip you had on his hand. "Try harder then."

"I would imagine many things, doll, if I weren't only ever imaging you."

"Be serious," you begged.

You closed your book. The tension between the two of you was fun and flirtatious, but tinged.

"I'm sorry about quidditch, Fred," you said finally.

"Don't be. It's nobody's fault but mine, Y/N."

He sat up, placing his free hand over your connected fingers tenderly. "As long as she can't ban me from you, I think I'll get along okay."

"Still, it's not nice to lose something you like so much."

"Y/N, I'd say you sounded more upset than me," he said, eyebrows raised.

You smiled wolfishly. "I will miss the uniform."

"Yeah?"

You hated him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah."

He moved in close, inches from your skin, he mouthed, "Isn't that just too bad," against the delicate skin of your neck. You turned your head up and he followed obligingly, kissing a stripe of skin before stopping just below your ear.

Desire pooled in your stomach. You threaded your hand into the soft hair at the back of his head, exhaling raggedly at the increased pressure.

One he was satisfied with his marking, he pulled away. His lips were wet.

"I'm afraid my affections have moved on past the world of quidditch."

What a dickhead.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

#fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #Fred weasley x reader #reader insert #fluff #pg13 kids