#many of them had white/light skin tones

[kihyunsflavor]

I belong to you

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: Your house unknown but a high-born and a Bene Gesserit, you get wed to the na-baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha. It´s not easy with him and his darlings, but after some time it seems you are much to his liking. Is there a soft side hidden inside Feyd, only for his wife to see or will he treat you the same as any servant?

Warnings: arranged marriage (like all of them lol), smut, violent behavior, breeding kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of knives and blood, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it <3

The bed was comfortable and soft, much different than the room itself with his stony, cold walls and the black interior. You were not asleep, just lying in bed with closed eyes. The current situation making you uneasy and sleep didn’t come easily. Next to that were the people standing in your room. You felt their preying eyes on your body even though the blanket covered you fully. It was Feyd-Rautha, your newlywed husband, with his darlings. There were three of them, being his concubines for quite some time. 

“She is rather ugly.” One girl spoke up, not even caring to whisper her words. They probably wanted you to hear it anyways. “Next to that she is a witch.” The other hissed. Feyd stayed quiet but you knew he had a big smile plastered on his face. You didn’t move nor open your eyes, you wanted to know why they suddenly decided to pay you a visit at this hour. Your husband hasn’t been in your chambers before, not even after marriage did he share the bed with you. He was spending time with his darlings and only having this annoying black teethed grin on his face when you ran into him.

“I think she is awake, Feyd. The witch listened to us since we came here.” 

The room was dark, no light coming through the big windows. This planet was very dim, caused by the industrial pollution and their black sun. One of the reasons why you missed your home planet so much. There you had fields of green grass, blue skies and people were dressed in colorful clothes. It was a warm planet, like spring and autumn combined. 

You opened your eyes and stared at the little group in your chamber. Your expression cold, showing no emotion. Feyd and his darlings kept your gaze, amusement hiding behind their eyes. Slowly, you sat up glancing shortly at the clock next to your bed. It was 2 am. “What is the reason you came into my room at this hour, my Lord?” You asked, annoyance showing through your voice. Again, this grin on his face. He hasn’t shared many words with you since you arrived on Giedi Prime. All you ever dream of is this exact expression. 

“My darlings wanted to take a look at my little present.” Present? No, you were not just a mere gift to him, but right now Feyd sought only to demean you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to your feet, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to drink up every expression you were going to show him. But there was nothing. You had trained long, you were good at it. Instead, you shifted your eyes to his three concubines. They all looked pretty similar, only one of them had a big black bar on her forehead. Their skin was white, eyes fully black and their heads shaved, not a single hair on their body just like Feyd. You had heard they were the beauties of Giedi Prime - and they fed on human flesh. 

“I have been here for two months now. Did they not have the chance to take a look at me yet?” You replied. Feyd shifted next to you and your eyes fell back on him. He didn’t like the tone you were using. “Careful wife, that´s not how you speak to me.” You mustered his face, he appeared to be displeased by your reaction, not expecting you to talk back like this. He was a scary man, unpredictable and violent, but you were not an ordinary girl. Trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you mastered the Voice. There was no way you would give yourself that easily to him. “I apologize, husband.” Seconds later, there was a knife sitting at your throat. The cold blade grazed your skin lightly, but still breaking it enough to release tiny drops of blood. You were surprised by his sudden reaction and leaned back. Holding your chin high, you did not break eye contact with Feyd´s dark blue eyes. “You better shut your mouth!” 

It was a command. He wanted you to submit, making it clear he had full control over you. However, you simply stared back at him, not moving a muscle. This made him angry, but he didn’t change the pressure of his hold. “Do you want me to cut your neck, little mouse? I could slice you up right in this moment.” The grin wandered back on his face, making you uneasy. He was enjoying the thought of making you bleed. You replied after a while, choosing your next words carefully. “I will give myself to you completely, but it will be out of my own will, not through force, na-Baron.”

Feyd´s expression went blank for a second. He sensed something in you, something he hasn’t been confronted with before. Now snarling he said “You better do as I say, wife. I won´t think twice about staining these sheets red with your blood.” A soft smile appeared on your lips; it was not to tease him. With a calmer voice you replied “No, you won´t treat me like this. I am your wife, not a mere servant you command. I will submit to you, but you need to earn my respect first.”

During this whole time the three concubines just stood there watching you and Feyd. There was so much tension in the air, that they didn’t dare to interfere. But then Feyd leaned back on his heels and the knife left your throat. You straightened your back and touched your skin where it had been broken softly. Tiny droplets of blood stained your fingers, but it was not much. Suddenly one of the concubines dropped to her knees next to the bed. She looked at your fingers with pleading eyes. “Let me taste your blood, please.” You starred at her confused than back at your fingers. Thinking about all possibilities what could go wrong if you let her do it, you finally decided to let her lick your fingers clean. Reaching out to her, she immediately leaned forward to lap at them. For a second you looked back at Feyd, who carried his usual smile, enjoying the situation in front of him. But in the next moment the girl kneeling on the ground raised rapidly and tasted the fresh wound on your neck. 

“Go away!” Stripped of control over her own body, the concubine moved away from you. She blinked disorientated, trying to figure out what just had happened. 

“How dare you?!” The other concubines hissed, dripping with spite. Feyd was showing not a single emotion in his face. You directed your next words to the concubines. “You ask me how I dare? I don’t think I gave her permission to touch my neck.” Those standing looked to Feyd for help and protection, yet his gaze remained solely fixed on you. “Do you think you are better than us? We have been here for a long time. You are just a foreign girl.” They started to argument, but you interrupted them. “Yes, I think I am better. You may have been in his care for ages, but who is the one that will bear his heir? It will only be me.” Your response silenced them.

The room was quiet, you watched Feyd taking in your words. It appeared as though a realization washed over him, yet he wouldn’t let it go so easily. 

The knife returned to your throat, this time softer, drawing no blood. “I don’t like the way you treat my darlings. You are not yet with child, wife.” His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “And why is that?" You retorted sharply. "If you had devoted more time to me after our marriage, I might be carrying an heir now. But instead, you choose to spend your days and nights with them.” If he wanted to play a game, you certainly wouldn't hesitate to participate. 

There was anger and fury dancing in his eyes, yet nestled behind it, timid and faint, was attraction. You almost had him at your grasp. “And why is it that you have an issue with my behavior towards your concubines, but overlook their insults and disrespect towards me? This is not how I imagined Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, to treat his wife.” 

Feyd was taken aback by your words and let his hand with the knife sink down. You both held each other's gaze for a while, almost as if engaged in a silent communication through your eyes. It felt as though he had finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, offering your throat to him in submission. It was the gesture he had been seeking - a sign of surrender. In the next moment you heard the knife hit the ground with a sharp clink and his raspy deep voice, dismissing the concubines.

Soft, wet lips immediately left a trail of kisses along your exposed neck. He made a grunting noise while inhaling your scent. You shifted your arms and laid flat on your back, opening your legs so he could just fit nicely in between them. Feyd made a noise of appreciation and continued his assault on your skin. “My dear little wife, being so obedient now.” When whispering, his voice sounded much deeper. It turned you on. His hands found your clothed breasts, squeezing them roughly, but as your hand caressed the back of his head calmly, he softened his touch. He raised his head and locked eyes with you before kissing you for the second time, since you arrived on this planet. 

The blanket was fully gone now, thrown into the last part of the bed. Your nightdress pulled up, so his hands had free access to your naked skin. Feyd enjoyed tracing the curves of your body, savoring every glimpse he could get of you. “Yes, so pretty like that. You like it too, don’t you, little mouse?” He grinned and his face moved closer to your face again to fully capture your expression in this dimly lit room. “I like it very much, husband.” “Feyd. Say my name.” His lips lingered over yours, waiting for it. “I like it very much, Feyd.” You repeated. A growl leaving his throat, he pressed his lips to yours. 

His right hand wandered down to your clothed cunt. He brushed over it, making you whine into his mouth. He grinned, slipping his hand underneath your panties and gliding his fingers through your heat. “You´re so wet, my dear. Is that all for me?” A moan escaped your mouth at his words. Oh how his deep voice and words turned you on. You were sure, he could make you come just with it alone. Not trusting your voice, you nodded. He watched you, as his fingers played with your sensitive area. Gradually, he lowered his lips, planting kisses along your cleavage, grazing over your nipples, and trailing down to your stomach. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your lace panties. “They are so pretty, but unfortunately, they have to go.” Feyd remarked.

After they were thrown onto the floor, Feyd leaned down between your legs, placing small kisses on your inner thighs. You arched your back at the pleasure and quiet whimpers escaped your throat. Feyd made his way to your pussy and gave it a lick, making you shudder. “You like that?” He grinned suggestively at you, revealing his black teeth. But he didn´t wait for an answer, instead he ravished you like a starving man. His big hands were placed on either side of your hips to keep you pressed into the mattress, since it was difficult for you to stay still. Quickly, two fingers entered you, moving slowly. Your moans grew louder, searching hands buried themselves in the black sheets. “I am going to come, Feyd!” Goosebumps spread all over your body, you were so close to your release. “Then come, little mouse!” He commanded and you let yourself go fully. It was a climax like you never had before when touching yourself alone. Your husband was definitely very skilled. 

After you had calmed down a little, Feyd loomed over you. His lips found yours again and he rutted against your body. Even though he was still clothed, you could feel how turned on he was. “Gonna have my way with you now, yea?” He chuckled, leaning back to pull his pants down. Your eyes widened at his length and thickness, as you starred at his dick. You began to worry how it was going to fit inside you. Feyd saw the change in your expression and bend back down, holding himself up with one arm next to your head, while the other pumped his cock slowly. “Don´t worry, dear. I will be gentle.” He planted a kiss to the tip of your nose and you locked eyes with him. His now gentle and tender actions made you wonder, if it was just a tactic to make you trust him. Despite this uncertainty, you didn´t sense any unease in your gut. 

You gave him a shy smile and your hands found his strong shoulders. “Will you put this off as well? I want to see you.” Your words amused him, he enjoyed the way you behaved. “Everything my little wife wants.” He answered proudly, feeling his ego boosted and leaning back to remove his shirt. You mustered his pale skin - it was white like snow. Curious fingers grazed over his muscles, Feyd placed his hand over yours. It made you feel safe. There was no longer anger or violence directed towards you.

You gazed at each other for a while, neither of you feeling the need to break eye contact. It was easier to read his emotions now, and it was clear that he wanted the same thing as you did. You freed your hand out of his hold and placed it on his strongly erected member. Gently, you started stroking him. Feyd closed his eyes and tilted his head back from the pleasure he was feeling. You tightened your grip, precome dripping out of the tip. It was such an arousing view. 

Suddenly Feyd gripped your wrists and placed them over your head. “I want to come inside you, little mouse.” He breathed huskily in your ear. You didn’t mind this at all, finally feeling his touch on your body was exhilarating. You had always desired his attention. 

There was some impatience in his movements now. Feyd stared at your naked body underneath him, while his free hand positioned your hips at the perfect angle. You felt yourself clamping down on nothing, wanting to be filled up by his pretty cock. “My love, you look irresistible. You won´t be getting any sleep tonight.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Before he entered you, he freed your wrists out of his grasp to support his own weight. You panicked for a second as it seemed like he was going to lean back, and you really disliked not having him close in this vulnerable situation. Feyd smiled, his face only mere inches from yours. “I'm not going anywhere.” He reassured you with his raspy voice and captured your lips.

Kissing him shifted your focus away from the pain between your legs, as he pushed inside your tight hole. “Doing so good for me, doll.” He hushed your whimpers, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt safe in his arms, being able to relax completely. After he was fully sheathed inside you, he let you adjust to his size.

Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at him. His eyes were already fixed on your features. Small praises left his lips, before he loosened his hug on you and brought his arms next to your head. You felt so small when he was hovering over you like this. Not long after, Feyd started to move his hips. First, he was gentle and slow but as your moans grew louder, he quickened his pace. Your hands wandered over his wide, muscled back, fingernails causing small scratches to appear. The pain spurned him on. “They gave me such a perfect wife, taking me so well.” Your husband praised and placed a kiss on your forehead. You shuddered and felt your release being close. Feyd´s thrusts started to become sloppy and unsteady as well. He cursed under his breath and bit into your shoulder. You squeaked at the sudden pain. “Feyd, I am close.” You whispered. He lifted his head again and grinned. “Good girl, yea… I am close too.” He growled, his eyes turning even darker. You caught a glimpse of primal instinct in them, like you were his prey. “Come for me whenever you are ready, little mouse.”

Feyd pulled out completely, only his tip touching your entrance slightly. Then in a fast movement, he pushed inside again, going in so deep his dick kissed your cervix. You made a startled sound and in the next moment could only moan. He was hitting all the right places, which made you come hard. Your back arched off the mattress, while moaning your husband’s name in bliss. Feyd had waited for your climax until he let himself go and filled you up with his seed. “So good... so good for me.” He rasped, out of breath, still coming down from his high. 

You had closed your eyes, only opening them when Feyd was moving over you. He had leaned back on his heels. One hand was placed protectively over your stomach, while the other held up your leg. He watched his cum drip out of your pussy. When his attention returned to your face, he grinned slyly. “Not done with you yet.” You were quickly turned around on all fours. “Yes, stay like that.” Feyd´s body was pressed into your back and his dick rubbed on your ass. He was growing bigger and bigger every second. Calloused fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged harshly on it. “Going to fill you up again. That´s what you wanted, am I right, little mouse?” You could hear how much he enjoyed teasing you.

There was no time for a reply, as he pushed inside of you with ease and you couldn’t surpress the moan that escaped you at the feeling of the stretch. The sensation nearly stole your breath away and Feyd immediately set a rapid pace. In this angle he felt significantly larger and deeper than before. All you could manage were small whimpers in response to the overwhelming sensation. 

Feyd´s free hand, that was placed on your waist, landed a sharp slap on one of your cheeks. The pain made you hiss through clenched teeth and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. Pleasure and lust were written on his face and when you caught his eyes, a smirk appeared. “Don’t look at me like this, love. I know you liked it, clenching down on me so tightly.” He pulled your hair back, forcing you to sit up. Your back was pressed against his chest when he whispered into your ear. “Tell me how much you like it.”

A shudder went down your spine and you whined. He was so deep inside of you. With a shaky hand you pressed down on your lower belly to feel the bulge Feyd was creating. “It feels really good-ah!” You answered him. “You like it, when I fuck you like this, little mouse?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, yes Feyd.” Seconds later your orgasm approached and you came hard on his cock. Soft lips were gently pressed to your cheek, while you tried to catch your breath. Even though his thrusts were harsh, abusing your insides, he still handled you with care.

His pace didn’t falter as he was hunting his own release. Your body went limp, but he held you up on strong arms, moving you back on dick. And again, he filled you up with a huge amount of his seed. 

He actually stayed true to his word of not letting you sleep the whole night. When a faint light filtered through the windows, signaling the arrival of morning, you had just reached your 5th or 6th climax. You weren't even sure because, at some point, logical thoughts ceased to form in your head.

Feyd laid you down gently as your eyes were closed from tiredness. He had fetched a wet cloth to wipe you clean. The coolness was soothing against your feverish skin. After he finished, you felt the mattress sink in as he laid down next to you. Protective hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you close to his body. "Mine," he whispered softly and placed a tender kiss on your temple. If you weren't going to fall pregnant after this night, you didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. 

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

--

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

-

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

-

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

-

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

-

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

-

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

-

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[northernsiberiawinds]

BIG CC UPDATE *DEC 2023

✅ PRESETS CHANGELOG

fixed broken presets after the "rent" patch (from child to elders);

I fixed the broken presets only for the child-elders ages. But, as you know, all the presets for the toddlers were broken too because EA added eyelashes to them. I don't have presets specially made for toddlers, but some presets made for other ages used to be displayed in this age category, I removed them from this category because they don't fit this age category anyway. I left only the ears in this category. I will fix these ears for the category of toddlers as soon as it possible (and if possible).

added compatibility with some type of custom clothes cc to FEMALE HEAD SHAPE PRESETS N1-8 (the problem of holes in the neck);

3 new files have been added (CHILD EYES PRESETS N1-2 FOR FEMALES TEEN-ELDERS, NOSE PRESET F N28-33 FOR FOR CHILDREN and NOSE PRESETS F N18-27 FOR CHILDREN).

✅ SKINS and FACE MASKS CHANGELOG

added new additional cleaner and smoother texture options to some old skins and face mask overlays:

- SKIN N4, SKIN N7, SKIN N8, SKIN N9, SKIN N10 (A and B), SKIN N11, SKIN N12, CHILD SKIN N1, SKIN FOR TODDLERS AND INFANTS N1-2 OVERLAYS;

- MICHAEL, NOAH and JAESUNG face mask overlays;

I see that many of you are still using my old skins, so I decided to update them a bit.

I changed mostly the faces. Some overlay skins have undergone very strong changes and now, I think, they look much better. Don't worry, the old options are still there and they won't be reset from your sims.

the old skins are now available for the "opposite frame", this is necessary if you want to make a gender transition for your character ;

SWEET СARTOONNY SKINBLEND A and B was fixed for a new patch (for the correct display of the added EA eyelashes);

added a non-hq version for old skins;

added compatibility of old skins and face masks with my new cc;

added new thumbnails to all skins just because I wanted everything to look the same style and I'm tired of these black and white pictures of old overlays.

✅ SKIN TONES CHANGELOG

Fixed an issue with completely black newborns with SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES;

Unfortunately, to solve this problem, I had to recreate the file for SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES. So when you download the updated version, this cc will be reset from your sims. This applies only to SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES and HETEROCHROMIA EYES. The rest of the files listed in this post will not be reset from your sims.

Added a tanning and burn functions to all my skin tones.

✅ HETEROCHROMIA EYES

fixed after the patch (the problem with the hand).

Unfortunately, to solve this problem, I had to recreate the file for HETEROCHROMIA EYES. So when you download the updated version, this cc will be reset from your sims. This applies only to SOFT ROSE SKIN TONES and HETEROCHROMIA EYES. The rest of the files listed in this post will not be reset from your sims.

All the files in all the posts have also been updated. There are really a lot of updates this time. I hope you all are not tired of this, ha-ha.

By the way, I'm going to start working on BETTER IN-GAME LIGHTING MOD v2. So you can write your wishes and suggestions!

MORE INFO AND DOWNLOAD

Any likes and reblogs is honestly appreciated! 💘

Thank you for supporting the development process!

#s4cc #ts4cc #s4cc maxis match #s4 maxis match #sims 4 maxis cc #ts4 mm cc #s4 mm cc #s4mm #ts4 genetics #s4 skin #s4cc mods #s4 preset #ts4 preset #ts4cc female #ts4cc male #sims 4 cc

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters

Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.

It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.

Behold! Many shades of brown!

I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.

Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:

"Chocolate and Coffee"

Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)

My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)

Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.

And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!

Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:

I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!

You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.

"Brunette with brown eyes"

(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)

"Red hair with pale skin"

“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”

“blond hair" (period!)

Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!

I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!

(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))

My Next Challenge:

Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:

Say BLACK!

Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!

You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:

“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”

I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)

Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!

“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”

That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:

No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)

Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!

Conclusion

This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)

A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!

Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!

It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black writers

[lady-ashfade]

Strange Dream.

Prince Zuko x Spirit!Human!Reader

-♡ I just had a thought and ran with it. Haven’t watched the show in so long so not the best expert. But my dad remembers it all- anyway. Idk what I’m doing with this.

-♡ words: 564

-♡ warnings: defensive zuko, kinda fluffy.

the forest was cold and wet, the only thing to keep him comfort was knowing his uncle was beside him. but still, he didn’t feel like himself anymore after hearing what his father & sister had been planning. he worked himself to the edge each day hoping to go home and be welcomed back to take his place by his father. and yet there was no truth to that promise.

his eyes feel shut when he laid down by the fire, he was so drained. the past few days and have been hell for them. he wanted to let his thoughts go and the painful stabbing at his heart fade so he slept peacefully.

and he didn’t expect to be awaken with the feelings of a warm and caring hand on his cheek. zuko shot up from the ground and startled the person kneeling over him with wide eyes. the stranger jumps back while he raising his hands and ready to burn them. but there was something about them, they didn’t seem dangerous but in fact…strange.

their clothes were silk white and their eyes made him feel warm underneath their gaze, like he wasn’t a monster at all but something to be understood.

just before he could ask them a question the area he was in had him look around. it was hazy and more beautiful, the trees greener and he could feel natural energy on his skin. his uncle was no where to be seen but neither was the small camp they had set up.

“Where am I?” he spoke with growing concern. the person smiles and titles their head up at him.

“You’re sleeping, but at the moment I am here. in your mind.” you open your hands to show the area. this forest was special to your people and when a soul needs guidance you are willing to help.

“Tell me, is there something I can help you with?” your soft smile and happy attitude made him hesitate to let you in. who in the hell were you? and why did he feel so drawn to you…

“No, I have everything under control. So you can leave.” Your face didn’t drop a bit as you continued to sit there and look up at him with beautiful eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to.” his eyes glare down at you and he sighs in frustration. and you knew right then he was going to be a hard cookie to crack but you liked a challenge.

“Just leave me alone! Get out of my head.” He hit his head slightly while raising his voice but his tone didn’t scare you. you had many like him before but they all caved. all they needed was a ear to listen.

“Know this, prince Zuko. Many have denied what they needed and came to ruin, you’ll let me in sooner or later.” letting out a breath as your fingertips start to light up underneath your skin.

“And I’ll be here willing to listen.” you point your fingertip at him.

Zuko doesn’t have time to answer before he starts falling backwards towards the ground only to not meet the stern ground but to be reawaken. he was no longer sleeping but back in the wet forest with his uncle giving him a curious stare.

it was a strange dream, with a even stranger person.

#avatar the last airbender x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #prince zuko fics #zuko comfort

[setsugekka]

❥off the table (m)

↳ a good morning wake-up call; breakfast with a side of 'use me.'

kim hongjoong x fem!reader — established relationship, explicit sexual content. [1,7k wc] cws: penetrative sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, a bit more of a submissive!joong.

“We’re going to miss breakfast, darling.”

Coming around the corner of the hotel room as you chime the words, you’re far from surprised to find messy, frizzy, bright red hair sticking up in all directions from between two fluffy, white pillows — one on top of his face, as well as one below his head in typical pillow-use fashion.

It brings a contented smile to your face, but doesn’t change the fact at hand: you’re hungry, and your boyfriend isn’t helping matters by sleeping in.

A throaty groan finally sounds out through the plush of the item over his face — suppose he’s awake, but none to his pleasure.

“Joong,” you whisper this time, crawling back into bed and on top of the front of him, hopeful enough that there being only a sheer pair of panties adorning your lower half be reason enough for the man to come-to. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m tired, nice to meet you,” he replies in jest as his hands slip out from under the covers and greet the skin of the top of your thighs with the most delicate of touches. “And maybe horny.”

“Maybe?” You reply with a questioning tone, quickly met with the shifting of his body from beneath you and as a result, the press of his barely clothed hips up and against you.

“Maybe. Probably.”

Having grown sick of his games and reaching down with one hand to the pillow covering the mans face, you quickly yank it away from him to display him better before you: disheveled, strawberry hair and such a charmingly bare face, one eye still closed at the displeasure of light now washing over him.

He looks innocent, angelic — it’s a ruse, of course, knowing far better than to fall for such a disarming façade. Hongjoong is a man with quite a devilish side, one of the many things that you’ve found to adore about him.

You take the opportunity now to lean your chest against his, t-shirts separating the both of you and your hands gliding up the front of his torso and under his as you dip your mouth down and against his for a couple of quick, light pecks to his dry lips — the man begins to grin into one of them at the very moment in which you feel the twitch of his growing arousal just between your legs.

“What’s that?” You ask coyly and nearly a whisper into his mouth from above.

“Want to find out?”

Hongjoong doesn’t give you much time to reply before his hands continue onto their own, respective journeys. The first making its way up and to the back of your head, pulling your mouth firmer against his own as teeth drag over your bottom lip and his tongue gently presses against your own, as if experimentally, testing the waters of your participation, so to speak; you’re more than happy to accommodate him, however.

The second slipping down between both of your hips, small hands but perfectly manicured fingers dipping into the side of your panties and the tip of his middle finger feathering over your slit before stilling just about over your clit and rubbing circles into the flesh there.

With a hum of approval into his mouth, the kiss between the two of you begins to run deeper and more intense — chests rising and falling faster in conjunction with deep inhales and exhales between long, drawn out, tastes of each others mouths.

Groaning out from under your breath, you speak into his mouth his favorite pet name, “Joong,” and with only the slightest of pause you continue to huff out the thought following thereafter. “Fingers.”

Needing little direction, Hongjoong slips the finger toying with your clit down just a tad bit further to your opening and wastes no time slowly dipping inside — testing the glide of your arousal before attempting to fill you to the knuckle — but he’s pleased to find that you’re far more anticipatory than even he had expected after such little foreplay, adding another finger to join the former and pushing both inside of you to the furthest knuckle he can manage from the angle that he’s at.

A lewd approval falling from your mouth as your hips press down and against his hand as much as you can, your own hair now equally messed as his from the activities already.

Perhaps you’re a bit needier this morning than usual, after all.

Reaching down and between the two of you, swatting Hongjoong’s hand away from between your legs, your own disappears into the front of his boxer briefs to feel the stiffness of his cock in your palm — already standing at full attention on account of the early morning and its unexpected activities — freeing him from the fabric you make quick work of multi-tasking the removal of the side of your underwear from place and lining up the tip of his length with your warmth.

You sink down on him just as quickly, as well.

It’s a bit of a stinging stretch with such little preparation but the feeling of Hongjoong pressing against your walls and the drag of his cock so exquisitely against you as you already lift your hips to sit back down on him before he’s even fully sheathed inside takes you from the thought in an instant with a throaty groan — now pulling yourself up and into a seated position atop him, hands comfortably planted onto his slightly exposed stomach below as his eyes cascade over your figure.

“Baby,” he pouts, hands sitting back onto your legs as you settle into a slow, shallow grind against him. “You know I’m gonna come instantly.”

You do. You’re fine with that.

“Yeah? Gonna come too quick, can’t hold it back?” you answer, feigning question and rather taking on a slightly more domineering tone. This, you also know, to be his weakness. “So come then, fill me up.”

“God, don’t say that,” he groans then, eyes screwed shut and head twisting to one side as if trying to fight off the rush of a threatening orgasm all too fast for his liking.

Unfortunately by now, you know precisely what makes Hongjoong tick, and as it turns out; being a little without control be rather high on the list.

Hips rutting against him just that much faster as the man desperately attempts to ignore the feeling — a strangled plea to stave off his own orgasm for as long as possible — it’s now a game between the two of you: you try to make him come as fast as possible, and he pathetically tries to avoid doing so.

It’s not the first time the two of you have played. He loses every time.

“You can come, it’s okay,” you all but condescend down towards him. The pressure of his pubic bone against your clit with every roll of your hips bringing you closer and closer to your own release — breaths heavy with air as the words leave you. “You feel so good, so hard—”

“Just gonna use my cock to get yourself off then, baby?”

You nod fast, his addition to the dirty talk most certainly doing a number on your arousal and causing a stutter in the otherwise smooth glide of your hips. “Yeah, should use you like this more often.”

That one sends Hongjoong’s head spinning, one arm slinging up and over his face as he attempts to bite back the loud groan that catches in his throat — the implication of you simply using his body for something to orgasm with enough to nearly bring him to the point of no return, already.

But you’re right there with him, as well.

“Fuck, Joong—”

“Come, come for me, please—”

Resorting to begging as a result of him being on the edge of his own release and not wanting to finish before you do, it’s certainly not a race by any means, but if anything can push you over the edge, it’s the sights, sounds, and the feeling of him letting go inside of you.

In essence, following his lead perhaps precisely what you be aiming for all along.

Shuffling your position on top of him just slightly, enough to grant you more vertical leverage, you instead lift off of him before sinking back down the nearly full length of his cock.

Hongjoong just about cries out at the feeling, followed by gritted teeth and a tight jaw.

Three more quick repeats of it, he resorts to begging again. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, please—”

And sure, you know that he’s pleading for the opposite of that, to not make him come so quick because it gives you too much power and control even in spite of how hot it makes him as a result, but with his back arching up and off of the mattress as you sink down the entirety of his cock — hard and fast — the loud, unbridled groan that rips from his throat as he has no choice but to release into you; you continue again the rolling of your hips to chase your own against him as you feel the pulse and twitch of his cock painting your walls with his cum.

Whimper falling from you, Hongjoong comes back to his wits fast to talk you through it. “Yeah baby, come around me, use me, milk it all.”

And so, you oblige the request.

Name falling from your lips as you slump forward with palms against his chest, almost uselessly rutting your hips against him as you fuck yourself down and onto him through your own orgasm, Hongjoong continues showering you in soft demand all of the way through until you finally still and fall flat against him with a heavy sigh and a loud, dry swallow.

Feeling his fingers curling up and into your hair — adoration for you in his delicate touch as his palm smooths over the back of your head, he tucks his chin under just enough to angle his face to kiss the top of your head — eyes still closed in contentment all the while.

“Going to have to try to skip breakfast more often.” He hums in victory, far beyond pleased with the way that the morning has played out thus far.

“Don’t piss me off,” You playfully retort, snuggling up even harder against his chest as you do.

“If that’s the punishment, you can’t really blame me.”

Suppose he’s right, you think to yourself; considering the promise of revenge sex (a.k.a in which Hongjoong happily reminds you who the boss is around here) in your incredibly immediate future, no doubt.

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic

[transformation4life]

New Year New Ford

New year's Eve, 2023. 11:55pm. You were watching your local channel that had the New York Ball Drop. Like past new year's you were alone in your apartment. All your friends had got invited to parties besides you so here you were. However one of your friends handed you something interesting last you saw them. "I heard that if you blow the candle and make a wish right as midnight hits it'll come true!" Your friend said as he handed you a star candle.

It sounded like superstition but this year was rough for you as you found yourself unsatisfied with your life and your job so hey it can be worth a shot! You remembered that right before you went to watch the countdown you enviously scrolled Instagram to where you followed a concerning amount of bodybuilders. They seemed to have the perfect lives. Big beautiful body, a loving partner, sponsorships, and getting to show off. Just thinking about it makes you a lil' hard. One bodybuilder that you saw while scrolling caught your eye in particular. He looked so perfect... so large...

"If only I looked like him..." You mutter. Then you hear the people cheering on from 10 to 9 then 8 and so on. You look at the counter with the candle and a lighter and then the tv screen. It was a mad dash to light the candle and put it close to your face closing your eyes and speaking your wish. "I wish I was a bodybuilder with big huge muscles!" You blow out the candle right as it hit midnight.

You open your eyes again and find yourself looking the exact same. What a disappointment. Time for bed though you are very tired. You grab your green blanket and settle down on the couch as you snooze. Unbeknownst to you, your life was going to get a whole lot better.

As you slept, your body started to glow as your white pale skin became that of a bodybuilder tan for competitions. Your clothes evaporated from your body leaving you completely in the nude. Your body now started to expand in all directions. Your flat chest filled with meat and become thick pecs. Your arms became thick like trees. Abs popped in, shoulders becoming bigger, back widening. Your legs became thick and juicy like a drumstick. Your hands became calloused and worn and just a bit bigger. Your small pencil dick increase to a girthy 8 inches of a beer can while your adam's apple became more prominent and neck more thick. Your flat ass became large and bounced like a bubble. Your hair was cut into it was a buzzcut as your body physically aged. The transformation was now complete as you continued to rest. snoring in a much deeper tone.

As the morning came you were still fast asleep unaware that you had a completely new body.

You yawn as you awake not yet realizing your muscular body as you scratch your ass. You seem to forget that you were wearing clothes last night as you walk to your bathroom, letting your new dick dangle. You reach the mirror in the bathroom and rub your eyes and that's when you realize. "OH MY FUCKING GOD?!??!?!" You scream. You finally realized your body changed.

It wasn't long until you started to explore your new body, commenting on your new ass and big dick. While you tested out your new body the scenery around your bathroom became bigger and much more luxurious. In fact, Your entire apartment was remade into a much more massive house not that you knew this was happening. You just let your muscles captivate you. You closed your eyes and you put your massive arms to your head as you thought about your new life. As that was happening your bodybuilder tan slowly disappeared and a cross necklace wrapped itself around your neck and some workout shorts covered your member. No underwear though.

You eventually put your arms down as you realize you should probably check your phone to see if it changed in any way so you leave your bathroom completely blissful of the changes to both your house and bathroom. You head to your new bedroom and check your phone. Much to your surprise, there are notifications from many including dating apps. Seems like the new you gets around. You rub your head as you realize the reality of your new life is going to be a doosey.

As you ponder what to do next you feel something happening in your brain. You can feel your brain processing slowing down. Most academic knowledge you ever had being flushed down the metaphorical drain as it was replace with solely the need to bulk your already large body. You space out as this was happening and a little drool came out of your mouth before you snapped back to reality. The only thing on your mind now is to go to the gym and get RIPPED. So you grab the workout gear you suddenly now have and ride in your car to your favorite place in the world.

You arrive at the gym and scent of musk overwhelmed your nose and it felt like home. With it being the new year you see many new people but that doesn't stop your grind. You walk to the gym lockers and your instincts lead you to a locker with the name "Lunsford". You put your bag into the locker and get back to the gym floor. With ease and effort you work out for hours. You always loved that pump. After working out you adjust your sweaty tank and hand to the gym area with full body mirrors.

Once you arrived you immediately stripped into just underwear and socks and flexed. God you looked so good. You loved your body. You loved your life.

A few months later...

Your life has been such a breeze and you were invited to the beach with some bodybuilder friends you made over the months. In a cocky fashion you flex on the beach before stripping into your beach attire.

was only a matter of time until someone wanted a picture or a video of you. With the first person who asks you put on some shades you had in one of your pockets and put them on, only to take them off immediately after and wink at the camera.

"it's going to be a good year!" You say to yourself as you jog to the water with glee.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hey everyone! Late new year story for ya! Hope this year brings you good fortune and fun! See you in the next story!

#muscle transformation #muscle tf #male tf #reality change #mind change #mental change #bodybuilder tf #male transformation

[codeinecraz]

JACOB ELORDI- New Year

summary- you and Jacob are celebrating the new year at the club when you get jealous of all the female attention he is getting.

Warning- use of alcohol, cursing, mentions of sex, use of y/n

December 31- 10:49 pm

y/n bent over the cool marble of the table, placing her elbows down on each side of her. She stared at the nearly empty cup of alcohol infront of her. For the past hour, she has been wondering around, filling her cup with every alcoholic beverage she could find. Her and her friends had come to a club that most celebrities attended at to celebrate the new year.

She also had to keep watch of how intoxicated she really got, because too much to drink could lead to one wrong move from her, which could ruin her entire career as an actress. Almost happened one too many times. Plus, she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself. So she continued to stare at the cup infront of her and play with her rings

It wasn’t necessarily boring, but she had been ticked off about something the whole time she’s been here. Her first few minutes at the club, she had spotted Jacob, one of her close friends. Then she looked at all of the woman around him. The worst part was watching him entertain them, buy them drinks, dance with them, or flirtatiously touch the strap of their dress.

Whatever he was doing, it irked her to her core. Her and Jacob weren’t dating, but they were those type of friends that had everyone questioning what went on between them in private. The upsetting part was, not much happened. They met, became close quick, both would flirt and talk for hours on end, and she fell in love. That’s about it. Who knew how he felt about her, he was difficult. There were countless time’s where Jacob would lay with her, or hold her, or hug her, but the kiss that she expected never came.

What she didn’t know was that Jacob felt the same way about her, maybe even more than she did. That night, he was doing everything in his power to get his attention from the second he saw her walk in. He didn’t want to go to her, he wanted her to come to him, to prove to him that she feels the same way about him, but she never came. He watched as she moved around with her friends, and laughed at whatever some guy was telling her, and poured relentless cups of alcohol.

He could have five woman infront of him, flirting and touching or whatever they were doing, but she was the only thing he could focus on. He loved the way her warm brown hair complemented her warm, toned skin. He loved the way her dress fell perfectly over her curves. He loved the way she smiled, even if it was fake. It was never fake around him, he knew that much.

Both were too scared to admit it to one another, so they waited for the other. She hadn’t moved from her spot, zoning out as her friends continued their conversation. When she looked back at the spot Jacob was just at, he was gone. Assuming he had snuck off with some broad he found, she picked up the glass in front of her and finished the last swig almost immediately. She slammed the glass down and ran her fingers through her hair.

Suddenly, she felt a light tap on her ass and spun around quickly, confused but not surprised that some random man would have the nerve to do that. Though, when she turned she was met with no other than the Jacob Elordi looking down at her, a half-drunken smile plastered on his face. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against his body. She pulled away and smiled, taking a minute to observe him. He was wearing a white Ralph Lauren polo, with the first couple of buttons undone, a pair of dress pants, and a random cowboy hat he must have found earlier. His hair was wet with sweat, same with his chest.

It was an attractive sweat, If that makes sense. She thought it made him look hot.. or just hotter than usual. She was brought back to her senses when he tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear and lowered his face into the crook of her neck.

“where’ve you been?” He mumbled against her. She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. “around, you just get here?” She asked. Obviously she knew the answer to that but she wasn’t sure what else to say. You know when you’re mad at someone but you can’t even tell them why without embarrassing yourself? That’s how she felt. He ignored her question and looked up at her, “are you ignoring me?” he blurts. She furrows her eyebrows. She wasn’t ignoring him, he just wasn’t acknowledging her. “no.. why would you think that?” She laughs.

He half smiles and holds the side of her face in his palm. “I don’t know, just felt like it. Forget I asked.” He said as he lifted her up onto the counter. “Bored?” He tilted his head. She shook her head yes and giggled. He continued a conversation for a few minutes while he stood between her legs, covering underneath her dress while she pressed her dangling legs on either side of him.

While he talked, she stared into his eyes, thinking about what it would be like if they were together. She kept giggling and swaying as he talked, the alcohol really getting to her now. At some point, they had both gotten up to dance. The song “Sex on the Beach” by PARTYNEXTDOOR blaring through the speakers.

He stood behind her and held her against him as they danced and watched as people joked around on the poles. He grinded on her as she pushed against him, one hand against her back and the other holding his drink. She moved away and leaned against the wall, laughing as he started swaying around the pole. He laughed loudly and then closed his lips in to a puckered form as he continued around the pole. She laughed harder, holding her stomache and slowly sliding down the wall. He laughed and moved away from the pole, holding his hand out towards her.

She gladly took it, not even caring to look at all the girls around her staring her down with jealous looks. He pulled her to him so they were chest to chest. He pressed his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I was waiting for you.” He spoke. “hmm?” You mumbled. “Before. I was waiting for u to come over but you didn’t.” He was hardly drunk, but she thought he was so he wasn’t worried about saying anything embarrassing, as she was drunk too.

“You seemed busy.” She almost scoffed. He stayed silent but made a confused face. “which one you gonna pick?” She motioned her head towards the woman around him, watching as they purposely bump into him and apologize just so they could get his attention, which failed every time. When he realized what she meant he laughed and shook his head. “There’s only one girl, you know that.” He yelled over the loud music, still holding his head against hers.

She giggled and took his glass out of his hand, taking a large sip. “yeah but..” she paused, taking another sip “do you really want her, or are you just drunk?” She asked while she held her other hand against the back of his neck. Their hips swayed in sync as they moved against the beat, the speakers now blasting the song “never be like you” by Flume.

He breathed deeply and smiled “I’ll always want her, drunk or not drunk.” She believed him, she’d believe anything he’d say, but she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. She laughed and pushed off his chest. “Yeah whatever” she giggled as she walked away from him. He made a fake ‘offended’ face before laughing and following quick behind her. She sat on the short pedestal that the pole came out of. He stood infront of her and she held his hands, playing with his wrings. “Come here” he rolled his eyes after she ignored him trying to pull her up. She pushed her arms higher up in a way to say “get me up”

He lifted her up by the arms, picking her up. her legs wrapped around his body. He used one hand to stop her dress from riding up and the other hand rubbed up and down her back. Their heads were so close that their noses were pushing against each other. Still, she giggled and rotated her head slightly, making their lips come even closer. He pushed his lips against hers, gripping the side of her body. Her hands flew to his hair and lightly tugged. She smiled into the kiss, as he did the same. He pulled away, pulling her bottom lip in his teeth before releasing it and pressing his forehead back against hers.

both stood there, staring into each others eyes and giggling, not paying attention to anyone around them. She hoped that this wasn’t a one time thing, or only happened because he was drunk. She hoped it was forever.

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #felix catton #imagine #nate jacobs

[buttercup--bee]

Pretty as a vine; sweet as a grape - Sneak Peak

Notes: There are no real warnings, other than this is an unedited intro to the sex pollen two part fic I'm releasing next mid-week. I hope it's okay! Pairing: Cooper Howard/Lucy MaClean Warning(s): Swearing; Implications of Child Abduction; more to come

One might think that he has full sway in what happens while they travel together, as for once, he’s being nice enough to share information. He doesn’t work well with others, let alone keep them alive when it's all said and done. Cooper usually takes his caps from sales or bounty’s. And he already tried the former on MaClean. 

So it’s a wonder he puts up with her deviations at all. Sometimes it’s to help someone, other times it's to explore. 

Most times it’s a waste of daylight. 

He thinks on this now, glaring at the sun steeped beneath an array of violet, orange, and periwinkle. The clouds are capped in gold, shafts of light desperate to pour over the wasteland. They should have made camp an hour ago, and instead they’re tracking some lady’s missing kid. 

The circumstances in which he caves are almost always the same. And this is no different. A local asks Lucy for help, she agrees, he disagrees; it always comes to a head when their knowledge expands upon how the missing item is important, or God forbid, a person is missing. 

Had it been a man or cat or some random family heirloom, Cooper would have sent her packing on her own. But of course, potential life means Lucy has to fit herself into the puzzle and solve it. Whether that absorbs his day too or not doesn’t seem to bother her at all.

Little miss morality has to hold the high ground and smother ethics in his face until he can’t do anything but give in and watch her back—it's a broken system. 

“Here!” Lucy jogs ahead of him, her pip-boy praising her with a jingle upon reaching her destination. 

Vault (#) glowers at them from over the tumultuous desert; darkened steel is lost to vines thicker than his forearm, rich in an assortment of cerulean, egg-white, magenta, and sprawling masses of black roots. It unfurls from the vaults gaping cavern with no obstruction. 

Whatever plantlife this is, it isn’t native to the Mojave. Cooper takes another step, his peripheral caught on the slight thrum the plant seems to emanate. 

There’s no way the kid went in willingly, right? This has to be a set up. The whole scene practically screams ‘death this way’. As far as the Ghoul is concerned, no child of the wastes is dumb enough to wander from home and into the clutches of uncharted territory. Not any with a brain.

His gut churns, his skin taut in warning, and his fingers flex beside his belt before he gathers himself in a single breath. This ain’t right.

Lucy is only a little ways ahead of him, beguiled by the abstract flora at her feet. 

When she looks at him, it's confidence that glimmers in her doe-eyes. “Okey Dokey,” with a slight nod, she readies her flashlight and pistol. Cooper’s brow rises before a word can escape him, and when one eventually does, it isn’t in practice or conscious. 

It just comes out. 

“Don’t.”

Lucy frowns. It’s small, barely lasts a second, “We already agreed–”

“Something’s not right,” he grunts, patience already worn thin, “either we leave together or I leave alone. It’s up t’ you, sweetheart.”

Many emotions fall over Lucy's complexion. Annoyance, concern, her expression is wide and open and full of disappointment. “You said you’d watch my back, you said since it was a little kid–”

“There is no lil’ kid.” Cooper’s tone is short, both with agitation and refusal to be made a fool. 

“You think Alice would lie ab–”

“Who?”

“The woman who hired us,” Lucy’s voice is high, disbelief feathered beneath shock and mild bemusement, “how do you not remember that?” 

He grunts, but it’s all she receives as an answer. After a moment, Lucy adds, “She paid us up front. Why do that if you’re going to lie or kill someone?” She's more amused than displeased as her reasons continue to flow. She meets his gaze for a time, longer than he thought her capable of, until his own furrows and conveniently, the fauna is interesting again.

The vault dweller isn’t wrong, he’ll admit that. But instinct has kept him alive all these years, and he’s more obliged to listen to it than some stranger squalling about offspring she had no evidence of. 

Cooper coughs, clasping to his belt tighter with the tilt of his hips when he recalls, “Half. She paid us half.”

A beat passes. Then another. He lets the insinuation hang between them until it's thick enough to drown in.

“What are you implying?”

He threw a line, she bit, now all he had to do was reel her in. Make her see sense. Whether it’s a raider's way to lure unsuspecting victims, a Vault-tec experiment gone wrong, or a vacant chamber—he didn't care. Cooper wasn't about to go and risk his life for two hundred caps and a boy he's never seen.

Despite himself, it turns out he would much rather Lucy leave with him, than allow her to fumble such an obvious trap. It’s unlike Cooper to care—if he could name it that. Perhaps there is an attachment, a pull, something just under the brittle surface they call acquaintanceship. Nothing he’s looked too far into. If he does, Cooper is unsure of where it will lead.

The fresh finger sewn to his hand itches, tingles, a fluttering reminder of where he got it; Cooper clenches his hand so tight it burns. 

“There is no kid,” he hisses, lurching forward as if to make his point, “no more caps, no helpin’ some lost soul—that’s a death sentence, and you’d be wise to leave wit’ me.”

At first, the silence is deafening. Both edge on what else left there is to say, as Lucy fiddles with the notch of her flashlight. Her eyes dart back from the path they came, the vault, and Cooper himself. 

Thankfully, a decision is made without any more pushback. 

He's almost prideful, the way she takes one, two, three steps towards his direction—

"Mommy!" A riptide of horror settles against Lucy's trigger finger, spinning on her heel so fast, it gives him whiplash. "Mommy, I'm hurt!"

Lucy is gone, sprinting inside the second Cooper reaches for her. 

It delays him, the shock in how fast she had evaded his grip. Long enough for him to think about whether or not he goes after her.  His finger itches again, a gentle warmth crawls up his arm when it flexes, more so when the weight of his firearm rests against it. 

Dogmeat finally reminds the ghoul of her presence, whining in the direction of Lucy's trail.

"Fuckin' hell," he grunts, cracking his neck alongside his saunter, "this is why I work alone."

----

Again, this is unedited and I'm really sorry if there's any terrible mistakes! I promise it'll be much better post-release next week! I also didn't want to give too much away. Thank you!

#fallout #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #lucy maclean x cooper howard #cooper howard x lucy maclean #the ghoul #lucy maclean #cooper howard

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Phantom of the Night

Phantom! Eddie x Fem! Reader Smut Blurb

AN: Hello! I am a huge POTO fan, and obsessed with men in masks. I wanted to write this for fun and for spooky season. It's a length and smut filled blurb. I'm sorry about the college of pictures not being as inclusive as I'd like (it's hard asf to find POTO aesthetic in varying body types :/ ) but promise that the description is vague and meant for anyone AFAB or feminine leaning :) (psst: this ones for my ghouls @eddies-house @xxhellfiregirlxx @ghost-proofbaby who I adore and feed my delusions lol)

Warnings: MDNI! mature themes, dubcon, vouyerism, somnophilia, mentions of exhibitionism, corruption kink, bondage, biting, oral, penetration, virginity, loss of innocence, masks, dom! Eddie, posessive, body worship, stalking and obsession, kidnapping, etc.

As a child, you had been brought up in the exquisite opera house that your town boasted of, your father taking you often to see the shows and ballets performed there. He was a violinist, a talented one at that, and had many close friends who performed at the opera. Growing up, it was just the two of you. Your mother had grown deathly ill when you were five. She passed there soon after, leaving you and your father alone. In womanhood now, you sensed that he brought you to the opera so often rather than get you a nanny to distract you with elaborate performances in order to hide your fearful loneliness that a young girl got with losing her mother. 

But now you were a woman, a member of the opera yourself in the corps de ballet, your years of training under Karen, your father’s old friend, finally coming into play. You took the job soon after your father's death when you turned 20, desperate to keep the estate he left you and not leave the home and comfort of the opera house. Besides, you loved ballet and the elegance it left you feeling, despite the pain. But it was nothing compared to your true love. Singing. Music. 

Your father had you take singing lessons as a young girl, but those lessons were now lost in years of memories. You tried to practice alone but felt off-pitch. It was disheartening. You mostly had done so as a hobby rather than a real-life pursuit of the stage, not believing yourself to be skilled enough. You kept it hidden from the rest of the troupe, embarrassed over what they would say about a grown woman attempting to learn to sing and having daydreams of the stage. 

Which is what led you to this point. You had found a few places to practice in the opera house, the building so old that there were many hidden passageways and nooks and crannies. You often tried to use these locations in order to practice. Your betrothed, Steven, constantly scolded you and claimed one day you would get lost and no one would be able to find you in the maze that was the opera house. (Steven meant well, but could sometimes be more like a mother hen.) Still, you found yourself overwhelmed by curiosity and in need to explore more and more of the building. 

You looked around, curious to see if anyone was nearby. You had found this entrance behind a mirror in a makeup room, the dark and almost damp hallway confusing you. You walked on further, the long skirts of your white gown brushing the cold stone floor, probably dirtying the edges. You held the candle you used as a light in a shaky hand, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill. This place reminded you of dreams you so often had involving a dark dim cave, some mysterious yet enchanting man…no, creature…whisking you away with his lulling voice and seductive tones. You felt your heart race and your thighs squeeze together at the thought. 

You were ashamed of these dark desires. You were always told that women weren’t meant to feel lust. Ballerinas were not meant to daydream about dark and haunting shadowy figures whisking them away into the night against their will. That was why you were so passive in your arranged engagement with Steven. What did it matter that you felt not a bit of swirling desire for the man if you were not meant to? He had good money and was kind and treated you well, despite your less-than-normal childhood. Maybe after the wedding, you could squash all these horrid and sinful feelings in your belly. 

While lost in thoughts, you heard a gust of wind brush by you, the sudden draft blowing out your candle. You gasped, your heart racing as you caught the sudden flash of movement by you, fear squeezing up your throat. The figure moved in a flash, clearly tall and lean. 

“Hello? Who goes there?” You called out, willing yourself to swallow down the frightful feelings in your belly. 

Nothing could be heard but the faint drip of aging pipes and the rustle of the wind in the ancient hallways. You sighed, turning back to where you came from. Perhaps Nancy was correct and you could stand to stop reading things filling your head with the idea of monsters lurking in the night. 

You laid on the gaudy chaise lounge, restless and unable to sleep. Karen, in an attempt to be motherly with you, was earlier discussing ‘wifely duties’ with you, well aware that your education on the matter was crude at best from the words you heard other girls in the corps giggle over. Or occasionally, the male singers would boast of their escapades. She filled you with this idea that women were to lay there to be for their husbands and bear children. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more. For the past few months, you had been…exploring your own desires. You found you couldn’t sleep without it. And yet…

Tonight you were staying at the opera in an attempt to curb the dark desires in your belly. You knew nothing of a man’s touch but did not want to sully Steven with your lustful and seductive thoughts. You hoped staying in a room not your own would discourage your brain from such thoughts.

You agreed with Karen to stay in the private dressing room, despite the fluttering gasps of your peers in the corps. There were rumors of a dark figure that haunted the opera house, always causing mischief, running around and stealing props, leaving notes on the music sheets, and even occasionally harassing the singers by wrecking their rooms. You weren’t one for superstition, but felt also that perhaps the girls had a point. You had felt a presence near you often, something lingering but still there. 

Just as you did lying there. You were only in your nightgown, the fabric thin and not modest at all. You could feel a presence despite the room being empty. You stared at the ceiling, your heart racing and an even more sinful thought entering your head. 

What if you touched yourself with that presence watching? 

You felt the heat creep from your neck to the tips of your ears, clearly embarrassed despite the lack of company. The thought excited you, the heat growing between your legs and your nipples pebbling at the thought. You sighed, cursing yourself but knowing you could not rest without the feeling of release. 

You shakily grabbed at your skirt, pulling it up while turning to look at your reflection in the mirror. The mirror faced the chaise lounge. You felt a gasp escape your mouth as you looked at yourself. You looked…delectable. Absolutely depraved. Your eyes were dark with lust and your nightgown revealed most of your bare legs, part of it tugged down to reveal cleavage as your hardened nipples poked through the delicate white fabric. 

You began to rub at the wetness between your legs, mewling pathetically at the friction and staring at yourself losing control. You felt your mind go foggy, your wetness growing as your moans became more desperate. You felt your eyes flutter, feeling as if the presence was staring at you. And whether it was the small sip you had of wine earlier you had with Karen or the lust clouding your thoughts, you swore you could see a shadow within the mirror, a pair of warm and sultry brown eyes slightly visible. The sight of the shadow caused you to reveal more of yourself, feeling the need to put on a winning show. You threw your head back, pulling the nightgown down more to free your breasts to the chilly air as you rubbed at your clit more ferociously, your moans and whimpers growing in desperation. You felt the tension in the room grow as the feeling grew before the tension snapped, leaving you shattering to pieces.  

You panted as you came down from your high, letting yourself catch a breath and trying to fix your appearance. You turned towards the mirror slowly, your body heavy and worn. You saw only yourself. No warm or sultry eyes. No shadowy figure. Just you. You let your eyelids flutter as you head off to sleep, sure to dream of the dark presence once again. And just before you do…you swear you see the shadow flash across the mirror. But maybe it was just your tiredness affecting your sight. 

The second time you experienced the presence was another night sleeping at the opera house in order to assist Nancy with her duties in the morning, since her mother, Karen, had left her in charge of the duties this time around, scolding her about needing to be responsible. You were asleep, dreaming and tossing while imagining that dark presence looming over you, your lust creeping in. In the dream, the dark shadow was looming over you, kissing up and down you, as silent as possible. You watched as the shape kissed its way down, growling hungrily at your entrance. You couldn’t see much but felt, almost as if it were real, lapping at your sensitive clit. You woke dazed, lust pooling between your thighs as you tried to sit up, sure you were feeling something licking and sucking on the swollen bud between your thighs. A gloved hand clamped down on your eyes and prevented you from seeing who the culprit was, your heart racing. You smelled the familiar mix of cinnamon and orange peel, along with sharp notes of rum and ginger, a tonic you knew as familiar among the singers in the opera to keep their vocals sharp. You felt your thighs shake, and moans leaving your mouth despite your brain's conflicting thoughts. 

This is wrong. I don’t know this person. But…the pleasure…they are so skilled with their mouth…I’m so close.

You writhed, whimpering and attempting to escape the mouth to discover who was there, only to feel the other hand hold you tightly in place, a deep and fearful voice growling lowly. 

“Stop your infernal movement, little angel. I would like to worship this beautiful cunt to the best of my ability,” The masculine voice ground out in agitation, the words sending chills up your spine and desire to build to the breaking point. Worshiping you? Men in high society didn’t worship working women like you. You were lucky to even find a betrothal while most dancers were considered ‘low and loose’ women who needed to work in order to gain money. This man was odd and…so very skilled at making you unravel. 

You were drunk on the eroticism of it all. A stranger licking at you like a man starved of a month’s worth of meals, the inability to see his appearance, his demanding tone and forceful hand. You saw stars and felt your pleasure overcome you, your body shaking at your release that he seemed to slurp up, the noises so vulgar they would make a lady of the night blush. You lay there, eyes closed, catching your breath slowly. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you sat up, hoping to get to know the man behind your most recent confession in church, only to be met with silence, not a soul in the room. You felt your heart sink as you tried to fall back asleep, your mind swimming with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the warm, strong hands. It seemed the ghost of the opera might have been real after all. 

Nancy and the other girls in the corps began to notice your distracted gaze, your prolonged nights at the opera, and your skittishness, trying to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure when people claimed he zipped past. You felt a strange obsession, a need to follow the dark shadow and discover who was consuming your dreams. 

You heard him at night occasionally, humming or singing. Or at least you thought it was him. It was a low and chilling sound. Your body thrummed with excitement anytime you thought you saw a flash of him in the rafters or heard a stair creak. You began to notice little gifts waiting for you in the dressing room, in your favorite nooks and crannies in the opera. Red roses and small notes in the messy script, usually referring to you as Little Angel. Nancy was worried about you, trying to escort you home often and getting Steven to dote on you more. But you were done. Corrupted. Filthy. And you wanted nothing more than to be in the Phantom’s embrace once more. You wanted him to explore you. Ruin you. Your mind was riddled with him day and night. 

You kept it hidden from everyone, but you often explored the ancient passageways now with the intention of finding him. Occasionally you left gifts. Your most used lipstick, a snippet of a poem, a book you had just read. You would come back to the spots to find the items gone, occasionally a rose left in their place. You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl. Your ghost…your Phantom… seemed to acknowledge you. 

If only you could catch him…

It was a few months after weeks of giddy gift exchanges and running after shadows. The notes and roses stopped. The flashes of a dark figure ended. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe you were just a fool who imagined or dreamed of the interactions. 

On a dark night, you were aimlessly wandering the halls, singing to yourself a song you remembered your father singing. You had abandoned all hope of your dear ghost coming to capture you. Free you from a loveless marriage. You were set to marry Steven next week. Abandon the opera. Become a proper lady in society. At least Steven would not be disappointed when you laid there and bled for him, giving him a child 9 months later. You sighed to yourself, twisting your engagement ring, displeased with the thing. You wandered the underground tunnels, the candlelight dim in the dark halls. You felt your heart pick up as you heard a soft yet low voice, singing aloud. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, and your heart was racing. 

“Phantom?,” You called out sheepishly. 

The singing stopped. A deep voice coming from a direction you couldn’t discern. 

“Little Angel. What is a lamb like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” called the voice, rough and cold. Was he upset with you? You were unsure. 

You felt a tug at your heart, looking around and trying to find him. “Please, Phantom. I have only one week more at the opera. I cannot bear to not feel your touch another second,” you whimpered out. 

“Ah, so you can crawl back to that insolent boy who does not deserve your glory? My heart cannot bear the rejection, Little Angel. Leave this monster be,” He growled out, still within the shadows. 

Your heart leaped in your throat as tears entered your eyes, feeling your knees wobble as you crumbled to the ground. “Please, Phantom. I cannot bear to be without you. I do not want Steven. Forgive me, please…,” You sobbed softly, your emotions in a tangled mess. 

You heard a sigh and felt yourself get grabbed from behind swiftly, a soft yelp about to leave your throat. That familiar gloved hand snuck over your eyes. 

“Alright, Little Angel. On one condition…You mustn’t, under any circumstances, remove my mask,” He warned, his tone stern. 

You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to pick you up, dropping your lit candle onto the damp floor. The light went out, but as he picked you up in his arms, you caught a brief glance of him. He was a tall and lean figure, his hair a long and curly mess, his face halfway covered by a mask. You could see his plush pink lips and long lashes, warm and enticing brown eyes. 

He was beautiful.

You were tempted to remove the mask, curious as to why such an enticing man would haunt the opera. You refrained, however, out of respect. He tied a loose piece of fabric around your eyes, shielding your vision. 

You were enthralled and scared. 

You were laid down gently on a plush cushion and fabric, the cover softly removed from your eyes. You slowly opened your eyes in a dim and candlelit room, surrounded by aging theatrical props and the most plush velvet fabrics. You were on what appeared to be a bed, the dark figure standing before you. He wore a dark and long cloak, the hood down. His shirt underneath was a silky black shirt with a wide opening, displaying his chest. He wore dark pants and what seemed to be dress shoes. The items were all of high quality but it seemed they were at least a decade old. Upon looking up at his face, you saw he wore a white mask on half of it, his lips and half of his nose visible. His features were mostly soft, though he appeared worn from the years of seclusion and hiding. 

You reached out to touch his cheek, only to have him grip your wrists. His hands were shaking. His dark eyes were swirling with desire and sorrow. Was he shaken because he needed you so fervently? 

“You cannot touch me. I cannot bear it. If you were to touch me only to marry that…that damned fool later. My heart could not take it,” He growled out, his face twisted in sorrow and pain. 

You felt a tug at your heart, your hands aching to touch him but deciding to respect his wishes. 

“Alright.” 

He got up, running over to a pile of old props from past shows, grabbing at one, and walking over to you, grabbing at your wrists before tying them quickly to the frame of the bed. Your heart began to race as your body heated up, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you bit softly at your lips. Phantom groaned softly, looming over you, his warm brown eyes stirring desire in your belly. 

“Do not make such faces, Little Angel. You are so delicate, and I fear I will become without reason,” He groaned out, his eyes intense in their desire, his expression clear that it was hurtful to hold back. 

You could feel your back arch, his stiffening member brushing against you, causing you to whimper. “Please Phantom…Abandon reason…ravage me,” You mewled, writhing under the dark figure. 

His eyes became dark, his snarl deepening as he leaned in, his expression both terrifying and enthralling. “Be careful what you wish for, Little Angel. I am not too short of becoming a monster, devouring you.” 

You whimpered, desire pooling as your eyelashes fluttered, and your body leaned towards him. Two could play at that game. “Please…I’m frightened. R-release me, monster,” You whined, writhing under the Phantom’s dark gaze. A smirk fell upon his lips, dimples evident as the smirk broke into a villainous grin. 

“Oh, you should not have wandered into my lair, Little Angel. Now I must have you,” He growled lowly, taking his gloved hands and ripping open your corset before tearing at the chemise, the fabric pooling in shreds around you, your chest heaving in fear and excitement. 

Your body was bared save for the underpants that exposed your ever-wet entrance, your legs shutting in embarrassment. The Phantom growled, kissing at your lips with hunger and desperation, moans lost on his lips. He kissed you until you gasped for air before biting, nipping, and kissing his way down, focusing on your breasts. You pinched and sucked upon your nipples, heightening your pleasure and making you writhe more under him, whimpers echoing in the cold and dim room. He bit and marked you, his movements like that of a wild beast. 

“Ph-Phantom…Master… Devour me as you have before,” You whined out, meeting his wild brown eyes behind the mask as he looked up, snarling. 

“Beg. Beg for it,” He snarled, hands continuing their tortuous teasing on your breasts. 

“P-please… Master… Dev-devour me…I beg of y-you! I beg of you. I beg of you. I beg of you…,” You babbled, brain foggy with lust and his touch. 

He grinned devilishly, his white smile making your heart race. “As you wish, Little Angel.” 

He slowly made his way down, sure to kiss and mutter praises over you the entire time, letting you know how divine you were, leaving marks with sharp bites here and there. Finally, he reached your entrance, diving in as if it were his last supper. He flicked his tongue across your clit before sucking on it, alternating that and nibbling at your inner thighs, your body writhing like a woman possessed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 

He truly was wicked, worshiping you beyond your wildest dreams, his words meeting your ears and deepening the carnality within you. You were gone. Lost to this bodily sin. 

“So divine. I do not deserve this beautiful cunt, these heavenly breasts, your godless moans… If this is the price I pay to become Lucifer’s lackey, I will happily pay the toll,” He babbled, fingers curling up into your entrance, his mouth still latching onto your clit. 

You felt your back arch and felt a ripple through your body. You shattered around his finger, your orgasm taking over your mind. You whimpered as he continued to touch you past your high, your nerves so sensitive you felt tears come to your eyes. He stopped short, growling lowly. 

“I’m going to condemn you, Little Angel. Fill you full of my cum. Mark you as mine and mine alone. You are my pet. My divine creature,” He snarled, his face twisted as you felt a shock of fear and lust overtake you. He could have you. You were his. 

“P-please Phantom…Pl-please,” You whimpered, lip trembling in longing as your body shook with terror. 

You suddenly felt a slow thrust into your entrance, the fullness causing a sharp pain, your head thrown back in a silent cry, eyes watering. The thrusting continued at a slow pace, the Phantom’s arms shaking as he appeared to hold back. You looked up at him, the desire growing sharper in you, your dull pain now adding to the pleasure, your legs slightly writhing. You fought against the ropes, whimpering. Phantom seemed to catch on as his brown eyes met yours, something in him snapping. He began snapping his hips at a ferocious pace, making you cry out as he continued to growl but also began to whimper and moan. 

“Such a perfect cunt. A vision. They don’t deserve you. So flawless…Cannot wait to fill your belly with my seed…Corrupt and condemn such a goddess…Ravaged by a monster…What would Steven think…?”

You moaned at the suggestion, thinking of how scandalous the situation would be. Your high was coming along a lot faster as the Phantom growled in your ear, hand at your throat while squeezing the sides and cutting off air. You felt your mind panic suddenly as you writhed but moaned louder, the lightheadedness causing immense pleasure. You were so close. 

“Oh, does my Little Angel enjoy that? Would you like to put on a show for the opera? Singing that beautiful song of pleasure?” He moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppier. 

You felt yourself climb higher and higher towards release, reaching it finally when Phantom growled in your ear making you grow with a child, making everyone know you were his. You saw stars behind your eyes, your heart bursting from your chest as you panted. The Phantom chased his own high, filling you up shortly after, making you moan softly. 

You attempted to catch your breath as the Phantom went to grab you a washcloth, wiping away at the spilling fluid. He released your wrists allowing you to rub at them. You flushed, your body limp and warm, worn out by the activity. You lay beside Phantom who held you to his chest, singing softly as you drifted off. 

You woke up once in the middle of the night, Phantom asleep. You stared at his face, only noticing how much more peaceful he looked in his sleep. You bit your lip, wondering why a man would wear a mask, even during sexual activities. Curiosity always got the better of you. You reached out softly, peeling away the mask, being careful to make sure he didn’t stir. You gasped softly at the reveal. The man's half of his face seemed to have large scars as if someone had taken a chunk of flesh in a bite, perhaps an animal. His cheeks were riddled with them, and half of the tip of his nose also with a chunk missing. 

You frowned, cocking your head. Sure he wasn’t gorgeous on that side but why was he here. He just seemed a little scarred. You softly touched the scars, the Phantom twitching at the touches in his sleep. You stop for a moment but again, only to have the mysterious man's eyes flutter open and horror and realization cross his face and he shoots up and snarls at you. 

“You broke the one rule?” He growled, his eyes dark and anger-filled. 

“I didn’t mean-” 

You felt a quick hand tie you up again, the ropes had been on his side of the bed, You tugged against them, feeling panic come up your throat as he tilted your head up, eyes gleaming with villainy. 

“From now on Angel, you belong to the Phantom of the Hawkins Opera. Edward Munson. But you may call me Master,” He growled out, his eyes swimming with possession, desire, and fury, your mouth opening to let out protests and failing to make a sound. There was no escape. No way to save yourself. You were his. 

Be careful what you wish for. 

THE END?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera AU #poto au #eddie munson au #poto! eddie #dark! eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #dark! eddie munson #eddie munson nsft #eddie munson fluff #stranger things au #eddie munson blurb

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! I have a Black butler request if you don’t mind! (It can be yandere but If you can make it not to noticeable??? If that makes sense.)

If I may could I request a Ciel Phantomhive x Cruella De Vill reader? I mean not exactly like Cruella but the fact she was born with hair spilt between black and white, she owns multiple Dalmatians which are really aggressive guard dogs for her. And she has a wonderful sense of fashion, even though most her clothes are only black, white or red. She even has a nickname that combines her name and Cruel together (like “Cruel-(/N)”) because she can be really honest and it comes off as rude. She is short temper but unlike Cruella she is only occasionally sassy but most of the time she is quiet because she used to get made fun of for her hair.

Also I was hoping it would be a oneshot, with a few hc. But if that’s to much it can just be hc! Thank you and have a nice day!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I hope I did this rq justice because I absolutely loved it. Detailed rqs my beloveds. As you ask, I did some hcs and then wrote a little drabble, though I do apologize for such delay in answer it. Hope you like darling <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic content. Maybe typos too.

☆*: In Ciel's ears, the news of a figure with two-tone hair who only dresses in black and red reaches him through gossip that Lau felt the need to share. The rumors, however, were not enough to capture the earl's attention at first. Who cares if Londoners are talking about this girl because she acts different and has a sharp tongue? Who cares if she has some protective dogs who can attack on command?

☆*: Certainly not Ciel. He has better things to worry about being the Queen's Watchdog besides running his own company. Gossip and rumors are not something that holds his attention unless they are related to the murderers who killed his parents.

☆*: So it takes a while before you finally get to know each other and he can get a glimpse of your strong genius. And heavens, he's enchanted, even if he doesn't know it, feelings aren't Ciel's thing. One thing he knows, this night will be one he would never forget.

...

Reluctantly, Ciel was participating in the celebration. A glass of juice in his hand as he watched each of the nobles approach the throne, kneel and say their rehearsed congratulations. So typical of nobles, so insincere. He hated it here, he could be doing so many things right in the comfort of his office. Still, he smiled and played his part when all adults around him looked down on him just because he was the only child here.

The starry night became filled with light and laughter; The Queen was throwing a party to celebrate another birthday well spent. Her age-kissed skin was still glowing, her eyes carrying a tinge of unforgettable joy, and her voice a jovial tone. As usual, she sat on her throne and waited for one by one the nobles to greet and boast about the gifts that were certainly better than the others.

It was funny to watch though. They all just seemed like jealous peacocks, huffing and puffing their feathers, wanting the queen attention on them.

Sebastian when can we leave? was what he wanted to ask to the butler at his side. What he almost asked. But right at that moment he heard a commotion.

A few meters ahead stood the notorious Cru-y/n DeVil, your presence commanding attention. Ciel couldn't help but be drawn to you, his gaze fixating on you with a mixture of intrigue and caution. Despite your reputation, he couldn't deny your beauty, a striking contrast to the darkness that surrounded your name. You were young, much like himself, yet exuded a confidence that belied your age, almost as if you too had to grown fast to protect yourself.

You seemed to be fighting a much older and powerful woman. The duchess who was always looking to fight someone and today had just found her new victim. But you aren't having any of that, making exaggerated gestures and smiling mockingly at the duchess.

Ciel observed the scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, at least the party turned out to be entertaining with this little fight happening and the queen was also watching you two too intently, curious, not at all bothered by it. Ciel couldn't help but roll his eyes when the duchess continued to argue and pointed her finger at you.

"Your hat is adorable" You say in a loud and clear tone, with the sweetest smile you can produce. "I'm sure it was worth sacrificing Big Bird, its poor beautiful yellow feathers wasted on this hat that perfectly fit your head."

A murmur starts around the two of you, some are laughing loudly, others are whispering among themselves, repeating what you said. The duchess, wanting to appear strong and resilient, fixes her khaki yellow hat - that barely fits in her head, lifts her chin an extra millimeter and leaves. However, Ciel knew that your comment would still haunt her for months to come. Today she had lost a fight and was insulted.

Undeniable was that the hat was horrendous.

Holding back a laugh that seems to want to escape him anyway, Ciel takes off his hat in greeting to you as soon as your eyes meet. He understood now why everyone was talking about you so much. To the court you were like a fresh breath of air, devastating if you hate it, great if you like it. And he absolutely like it. Not a lot of younger aristocrats behave this way and he really needs someone different to spend time, as Elizabeth is quite overwhelming with her affection and Sullivan is busy.

He approach you and with this gesture, plans to know more about you. He is now curious and his curiosity must be satisfied.

#yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #kuroshitsuji ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive #fem reader #female reader #lorkai imagine

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

OMG I’m so excited for this!!! Can I request Vil with the prompt rainy nights?? Can it be fluffy and romantic? Anyway I hope you have a wonderful day!! :)

Rainy Nights; Vil Schoenheit

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established romantic relationship

Content Warning; Reader cries because of a movie, death (movie)

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; I had a vision; watching old movies with Vil as the rain came down. I had a lot of fun writing this, and this is also my first solo Vil piece, so I hope I did him justice here.

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were rummaging around the TV console, going through the numerous DVDs and VHS tapes that were just sitting around and collecting dust. Tonight was your night for movie night, as yesterday was Vil’s, so you were weighing your options. Sure, there were streaming services, but there’s just something that hits differently with a physical copy, flaws and all. Plus it’s not like you could go out since it was raining like no tomorrow outside. So, movie night.

“Having any luck,” Vil gently called from the washroom, still doing his nightly routine.

Your eyes still scoured the various cases, trying to find the perfect one. “Not yet. Just give me a minute, m’kay?”

Vil gave you a hum as an answer, leaving you be.

Horror movie? No, he wouldn’t like that. Mystery? Too predictable… And then you found what looked like the most faded cases, colour worn away from age and a hand going back time and time again. That one.

Pulling it out, you dusted off the case, inspecting the title. Of the smudged-out words, you could make out The, some kind of smudged-out word, Blossom. It looked like a black-and-white movie, and on the front were the protagonists with their backs together, flower petals surrounding them, and a dagger above them. This, this is perfect.

Vil came out of the washroom, wearing his matching royal purple pyjamas and house robe, and glowing from the various skin products that he used. He looked curiously over your shoulder. “Hmm, The Bitter Blossom,” he mused, turning his gaze to you. “Is that your pick, Schatz?” His tone was light, a sign that he approved, and was mildly surprised at your pick.

“Mhm,” you hummed, placing the VHS tape into the VCR player. Whoever had played it last had saved you the trouble of rewinding it. “Have you watched it before?”

“Surprisingly, no. Copies of it are extremely hard to come by.” He got the sofa ready, adjusting the pillows, grabbing one of the many quilts, and a box of tissues, just in case. He noticed the look you were giving him, “I haven’t watched it, but I have heard about how it ends.”

You raised a brow, but shrugged. You pressed play and scrambled over to your spot next to Vil, getting comfy and pulling that handy quilt over the both of you — the rain had made it a little bit chilly.

The Bitter Blossom started playing. Not only was it in black-and-white, but it was also a silent film. The protagonists were two lovers who met by chance, their relationship going from cold strangers to a budding romance. 

But why had Vil grabbed the tissues? The movie was almost over, it couldn’t possibly—

But then the antagonist, a jealous ex of one of the main protagonists, stabbed the love interest in the back with a dagger. The movie ended with the protagonist hugging their love interest, flower blossoms falling down around them.

“Do not let the bitter blossom of hatred and vengeance bloom in your heart or mind, my love. Do not let it ruin the happiness which we fleetingly had.” The words flashed on the screen before the movie ended with the screen fading into black.

That, that was why Vil had grabbed the tissues. Wait, were you crying? That would explain why Vil was gently dabbing away the stray tears as they rolled down your face.

“A lovely film, love,” he whispered, “I should have warned you about the ending—”

You stopped him by grabbing softly at his hand, bringing it up to cup your face. “No, it’s alright. It was a beautiful movie,” you hiccuped, leaning into his touch. 

Vil caressed calming strokes on your cheek, the slow movements helping you focus on him. He placed a kiss on your forehead, a gentle hum escaping as the kiss lingered. “Oh potato,” your old nickname from when the two of you were still just only acquaintances, “what am I going to do with you?”

You grabbed a tissue and loudly blew your nose, “Cuddles?”

Vil sighed softly, but put his arm around you, resting his head against yours and placing a kiss to your temple. “Alright,” he hummed and continued humming a gentle tune until you were falling asleep. While he would prefer sleeping in bed, he supposed he could stand to cuddle with you on the sofa as the rain eased up outside.

~~~~~~~

Schatz; German for treasure, a common term of endearment

Tags; @azulashengrottospiano [I've seen the Vil brain rot and gushing], @eynnwwyjth, @xxoomiii

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x gn reader #also i decided to go with a VHS tape since i wanted them to watch an old OLD movie; plus i miss my VCR player #soft vil content to heal the soul #he also cried a bit but was very subtle in wiping away the lone tear #hopefully i wrote vil with some justice as I'm still trying to characterize him right #potato; said with love #sofia! #i also think this is the longest one as of yet ; just checked and yup! it is #that might change though as i write the others #thought about having reader call vil their 'schnucki' [sweetie-pie] but decided against it #but it does live rent free in my head #i wonder how many people read through all of my tags; cuz i do hide some gems in there as little easter eggs of sorts

[calummss]

20 Reasons To Love You | Klaus Mikaelson

part one: 1920s Love : masterlist

summary: after your encounter with the original vampire, he asks you to the school dance. your salvatore cousins try to get in the way but you’re tired of being protected. you are starting to like the so called original vampire, but is it an illusion or the real deal

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3.1k

a/n: part 2 is finally out. i love this piece so much because just like the first the reader is confident but unsure at the same time and i think that accurate describes me and many others. here’s to my fellow klaus mikaelson lover that love him as much as i do (not possible). enjoy!!

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

You stood at the door, too many words racing through your mind.

‘I don’t have a dress, I— well I never expected to go so I never bought a dress.” You sighed, each word becoming more airy as you managed to take him in. ‘I don’t have a dress…’

Dark blonde hair, pink plush lips, a white suit that fit him like a second skin. He was handsome. More handsome than you’d ever say out loud, the rumours of his behaviour and actions not scaring you, but making you tone down any infatuation that could be drawn out.

‘I thought it best you’d wear an actual dress from your decade,’ He nodded one of his witches over, his arms engulfed around a light pink box, a white ribbon decorating it. ‘I saved this for a special occasion.’ He smiled at you. ‘I think today is it.’

‘Original?’

‘Original.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ your eyes never left the box, ‘I would ruin it. It’s too precious.’

He gave his witch another silent order who pushed past you to walk into the house.

‘Hello?’ You shouted at her but she was long gone.

Klaus took a closer step, so close the smell of his perfume hit you softly, ‘Do me a favour and wear it, darling. You could only do it justice. We don’t have much time now. Change.’

‘But—‘

‘No buts.’

‘Fine,’ you sighed as you took hold of the dress box, your cheeks starting you shake the apples of your cheeks, smiling ear to ear as you finally held it in your hands. ‘Wait for me.’

‘Do you even have to ask, love?’

Returning a smile you hurried away, the dress screaming to be worn as you couldn’t believe that your frame would wear something so beautiful and of such good quality from decades ago. A decade that had long been your favourite. Wearing a piece of history, brought to you by a vampire everyone seemed terrified out of their minds.

When you finally got the dress on and fixed your hair as well as jewellery, you headed back downstairs. Your heels carrying you differently; at least you thought. Klaus still stood by the entrance outside, eyeing something in the front yard.

‘How do I look?’ You called out, his head turning in an instant.

‘Like the sparkles of an ocean on an early summer morning.’

Your heart fluttered. Never had you heard anything so romantic. Whenever you asked someone they simply said pretty. Barely paying attention to the way you looked but Klaus, Klaus looked at you like a canvas. Paying attention to every detail like he was an artist, captivated by his creation. Ready to hang it up to admire it all year around.

Arriving at Mystic Falls High School you already saw that the grounds had empty liquor bottles laying on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over. You almost were a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded you of the beer bottles: empty and pretty useless. But they were carefree; unaware of the reality that was Mystic Falls.

Every girl looked similar. All wore short flapper dresses and headbands only the colours differentiating them from one another. They looked beautiful but repeativness got boring fast. You however shined. A white satin gown, thin straps, insinuating your chest, the fabric gently hugging your curves as it pooled at your feet. Paired with a beautiful pearl necklace and a white fur scarf that completed the look. Simple but classy.

Walking up towards the entrance, you locked eyes with a certain someone you tried to ignore the entirety of the evening, but he saw you. The glare in his eyes causing you to stop in your tracks, his raven hair that blended into the night coming closer.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Damon.’ You mused, your right arm hooked with Klaus’, your other hand on his shoulder as you smiled at Damon.

‘Go home.’ Damon stated, his eyes drilling holes into your soul.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

‘Actually I can,’ he smirked, his stupid grin spreading heat through your limbs. ‘I am your legal guardian.’

‘Only ‘cause you killed Uncle Zach,’ you snapped, taking your arms from Klaus’ body, stepping closer to Damon, asserting yourself against him. ‘Not very guardian like?’

Damon’s head scanned the surrounding area, making sure no one could listen in. ‘Don’t cause a scene, Y/n.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Again,’ he tried suppressing his voice, ‘don’t cause a scene and go home.’

‘No.’ You snapped. ’I am going to my school dance which by the way I have more of a right to be at than you, and enjoy dancing with my date.’

‘Date from hell…’

‘Well then he isn’t much different from you after all,’ you placed your arms back in Niklaus’ arm, giving Damon a sarcastic smile. ‘Move.’

Damon didn’t move, instead he stepped closer, his eyes continuing to stay on you, his lips pressed together.

‘You heard the lady,’ Klaus said. You didn’t look at his face but you could tell he was smirking at Damon. ‘Move, Damon.’

Klaus and you stepped past Damon, walking towards the entrance, the music increasing in volume as you stepped through the door.

Down in the gym, people were already dancing. Music blasting through the room, balloons, tinsel and much more of the decorations the walls and floor carried that you dragged yourself to every Tuesday and Thursday, dreading to move. Rather wanting to participate in every girl’s favourite subjects: English and history. Walking towards the dance floor you saw Damon walking up to Alaric, their eyes on you as soon as Damon whispered something and you knew that their eyes would follow your every move.

‘What are they saying?’ You asked Klaus, your eyes still on the pair as you started swaying in rhythm. Bodies close as you felt the warmth of his body.

‘Talking about various ways to ruin our night and all the ways they can kill me.’

You pushed your tongue against your teeth, staring straight ahead into Klaus’ shoulder. ‘Damon, I know you can hear me,’ you started to whisper. ‘Leave me and my dating life alone. I’m 19 years old, not six. And don’t you dare try to ignore me or roll your stupid blue eyes at me because I will rip that little smug of your face.’ You turned around to see Alaric and Damon go towards the punch table, visibly irritated on your behalf yet still they took the hint and backed off for now.

‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Don’t hold back on my account.’ He chimed. ‘Feisty women are my weakness.’

‘I’m feisty?’ Not a word generally used to describe you.

‘Hmm, also confident; unsure; great company; an amazing dancer and best of all, not intimidated by me since the second you met me and found out who I was.’

You hesitated before speaking. Was it rude to ask such an invasive question? Would he answer it? Would it spark his mood to change?

‘Why is everyone so afraid of you?’ You asked in a careful tone, not sure if the vampire would switch up on you.

‘I do terrible things.’

‘People do terrible things all the time.’

‘I created new sins.’ His deep eyes gazed at you, his soft plumpish lips leaving every word ingrained into your mind, begging to know what his lips would feel like lingered onto yours.

‘Such as…?’

‘Let’s not get into it, love.’

‘I can handle it.’ You separated your body from his, staring up at him. ‘I have heard what you have done but I’ve also seen your actions: listening to me, talking to me and making me feel interesting, getting me a dress to a school dance I wasn’t planning on going to.’ You smiled slightly. ‘That takes a heart to do.’ You placed your hands above his chest, tapping lightly with an almost jestful tone. ‘And you have a pretty strong one.’

Klaus gazed at you ever so gently, his eyes flickered to your lips as his mind turned hungry at the thought of your kiss. Not craving the taste of warm blood, freshly pumped out of a human vein. No. He craved you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Klaus wanted you to be close to him, to feel your heartbeat so close it would beat in union with his. To feel your lips on his skin, the taste of your skin without the blood. The thought of tasting your blood left an uncertain feeling in his stomach; quease mixed with disdain. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave a scratch on your skin. All he wanted was the moisture of his lips to sit upon your skin. Light, gently, accepted.

The sound of music faded when you realised you were leaning in. His eyes felt like paralysing poison as you inched closer. Your heart beat in your throat when his face came closer too. He too wanted this. You could feel his breath ricocheting off your face, and when your lips met the music stopped. His lips kissed you gently, coming back for more as one his hands slid towards your face, holding you delicately as the other went down to your back to support you. Your hands moved to his head, grabbing a handful of hair as you parted your lips to let him get a better taste of you. Your mind was blank, your stomach filled to the brim with butterflies that duplicated every second he was touching you; flattering their tiny wings as the space to move began to decrease. Every kiss grew more passionate. Air was flowing out, barely catching breath as he felt like the air you were supposed to breathe all along.

Separating from his touch you let yourself breathe, your chest falling and rising as you held his eyes, too beautiful to be true. Eyes that belonged to a killer that just held you like you were the most delicate flower.

‘Can we go somewhere more quiet?’ You leaned in, your social battery slowly decreasing as you craved a quiet and still place to be with him.

Klaus brought you to his mansion he bought a few weeks ago, saying he was to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. His house was filled with artworks of the most incredible artists. Each piece crafted to perfection.

Guiding you to a back room you took notice of different materials and colours. Canvases and easels to hold them up. One painting was finished by the look of your eyes. It stood on an easel in the middle of the room, close to a candle light that shined just enough to admire the painting.

‘May I speak out loud my interpretation of this painting?’ Your eyes scanned the framed piece, the candle gently casting a light above the painting. ‘I know that artists want to be understood as they pour their thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, yet someone else saying out loud what the artist was too cautious to say themselves, can evoke an uncomfortableness. That someone truly understands them is more often an artist's greatest fear.’

Klaus stood by your right shoulder, silently gazing at his painting from behind your frame. His silence, his breath, made you turn your head to the side. Just enough to catch his breath on your cheek, just enough to let the corner of your mouth tip curl, allowing you to feel his intimacy.

‘I suppose the painter felt lonely whilst crafting their piece. The way dark colours engulf the lighter ones. The way the colours meet but never mix,’

His hand gently brushed along the curve of your shoulder, giving you the insight of Klaus’ guard let down when he was immersed in his art.

‘Careful and precise strokes show me the delicacy behind the fragile thoughts that are meant to be the painter’s release. The small firefly, so tiny its illuminating glow is barely caught with the first impression of the painting, is fascinating to me. Despite the painter’s sadness and pain, there must have been something in the moment that compelled them to leave behind something so coruscating. Something tells me that the painter is trying to find their way. Whether it be to themselves or to someone.’

‘The way you analyse art, Y/n, is beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?‘

‘I suppose I find beauty in darkness quite fascinating…painting or painter,’ you placed your gloved hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin pervasively fighting through the silk fabric.

‘The firefly I must admit is you. You are the firefly in my thoughts. You glow amongst the darkest part of my mind. Just the mere thought of you makes me feel like I am a different man even if I don’t want to change…’

You turned around and gave Klaus a sweet but quick kiss. ‘You don’t have to change. I like you for who you are and I must admit, this night has made me realise just how much I actually like you. It feels fast but safe at the same time.’

Klaus returned it with another kiss. ‘Normally I like a chase but I simply need to be yours.’

‘Would you ever draw me?’ An innocent question, soft- eyed waiting for a response. A small smile sweeping across his face.

‘I actually already have,’ he said, his cheeks a fair rosé, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t pay attention but you, how you took notice of every detail that made him him.

‘You have?’ You grinned. ‘Why?’

‘I mostly paint things that mean a lot to me,’ he took a look at his paintings. ‘Mostly landscapes…and you…’

It warmed your heart but you didn’t show, only the palm of your hand pressing into your other, love overflowing your body.

‘I suppose one day I should return the favour, though I cannot promise you’ll look anything like the real you.’

Klaus let out a laugh, his eyes smiling like the crescent moon of night that shone over his garden outside. Eyes sparkling like the stars.

‘Would you like another dance outside?’ He asked, noticing your longing look at the porch, illuminated by fairy lights that left a magical feeling within you.

‘I certainly would.’

Holding out your hand you followed him outside, the slight cold breeze nothing but relaxing as you swayed with Klaus again. This time it felt nicer. Alone, just the two, surrounded by nothing but darkness and crickets of the summer night giving your silence a nice touch of tone.

‘I want to give you something,’ Klaus searched for something in his pocket. When he finally pulled it out he continued to say, ‘This vial contains vampire blood.’

You stared at the vile, red liquid calming floating behind the glass.

‘It’s my brother Elijah’s blood.’

Doe eyed and furrowed eyebrows stared back at him, ‘Why not yours?’

‘If I could, trust me I would. For a vampire there’s nothing worse than blood sharing with someone’s partner,’ he held your gaze. ‘But if I gave you my blood, little one, you would die.’

‘I don’t understand? Why would I die?’

‘Well here’s some information only my family and one witch know…I’m a vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. If I were to feed you my blood you would die the next day. Bad blood.’

‘Oh,’ disappointment covered your words, weirdly enough bummed that it wasn’t Klaus’ blood you would be carrying around to protect you in case you needed it.

‘This blood is here for whenever you decide you want that change in your life you talked about.’ Klaus’ finger grazed against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘I like you, Y/n and I won’t compel you to take it. I like you and if I could I would spend eternity with you. I know it hasn’t been long but you feel good for me.’

Your lips caught his. ‘Of course I will wear it.’

‘Make sure to keep it safe.’

‘I will.’ You hand found his face, giving in once more into temptation, his sensation too good for you.

You played with the vial between your fingers, a wave of warmth rushing over you as you realised just how much you liked Klaus. But as much as you liked him it was getting late…

‘I think it’s best that I go home. It is late and Damon and Stefan are probably going crazy…’

‘I’ll take you home.’

Klaus dropped you off just before the door, watching as you safely entered the Salvatore house. And before the door even closed you could hear Damon’s taunting voice echoing through the halls of the boarding house.

‘Where have you been?’

‘With my date.’ You carelessly threw the keys to the side, walking past Damon to try and get into the kitchen to get something to drink.

‘You can’t date him, Y/n.’ Damon growled, his eyebrows pulled to his eyes as his voice grew louder. ‘He’s a bad person.’

‘Who cares?’ You uttered, pouring yourself a drink as you watched Damon pace towards you.

‘I care!’

‘Since when?!’

‘Since always!’

‘Damon,’ You breathed. ‘I love you, I truly do but are you so blind to not realise that you too are a bad person? You used Caroline; killed Lexi, Stefan’s only friend; Uncle Zach? Why can those actions be excused by literally everyone yet apparently Klaus is where we all draw the line huh?’ Words spilled from your lips as the pit in your stomach started to burn a ball of annoyance. ‘Because he shows no remorse at all? Newsflash neither did you and just because you feel it now doesn't make your actions any more excused. I like the way he is. I like the fact that he is a bad person but a good person to me. Someone that finally pays attention to me!’

Damon stayed quiet, his face obvious to the hypocrisy that everyone was participating in yet he was still angry at you and the fact that you were capable of making your own decisions no matter how bad or good they were.

‘If he hurts you don’t come crying to me,’ Damon turned around to walk away.

‘Oh please as soon as I cry because of anyone that person ends up hurt. If you’re trying to pretend not to care about me, good luck.’

‘You wish.’

‘Ah fuck,’ you whinced, a wave of pain shooting through your finger.

Damon’s vampire speed brought his feet back to you, your hand in his as he took a look at what pained you.

‘Told you so,’ you mocked.

‘Ass hat.’

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson blurbs #klaus mikaelson blurb #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson headcanons #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #tvd #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #mikaelson family #mystic falls #joseph morgan #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd universe #the vampire diaries imagines #klaus mikaelson is the loml 🩷

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Same Place as the Music” Lighting & Color

“Where is the light coming from?” “The same place as the music.” Andrew Lesnie, Cinematographer of LOTR

How & Why It's A Problem

If I had to summarize the frustration I have with this topic in one image, I'd use JeCorey Holder's (queer Black creative!) meme:

Now here's the thing. I'm not saying you have to be a master at lighting. I'm surely not. Hell, I still play around with lighting in my art in ways that aren’t the ‘most realistic’. You can’t ask me the technical explanations behind ‘color theory’ or 'contrast' without me doing some more reading. However… I don’t think anyone needs an art degree to understand this point:

We should be able to SEE your brown skinned Black characters!

I brought this up in my lessons about skin tones and blushing, and it applies with lighting as well. If all of your other characters have focused light and shadows, so should your Black characters.

However, this does NOT mean making them lighter-skinned!!!!

It's not funny nor logical at all to suggest that they somehow can't be seen like your other characters when you’re the one creating the piece. It's like a classic fifth-grade racist joke, “You blend in at night”. Har-de-har.

I was once rudely told to my face (well in the DMs) that a Black character that was completely Europeanized looked like that “because of the [sepia] lighting”. So I'm going to give you all, gracious readers, an example to show that that's not true.

This is Ana Flávia, Afro-Brazilian model! Gaze upon her beauty! Notice how in both of these filters, Ana did not, in fact, turn into a white woman! Because, my friends, that is not how that works! At all!

Here are some other examples of Black people in non-color lighting:

None of these people vanished from the frame just because there was no color. They didn't have to paint on lighter makeup to be captured by the camera. What do they all have in common (in this example)?

Lighting!

Now let’s discuss different ways to think about and potentially try instead!

What I want you all to keep in mind, is that the art you’re painting:

And I know that's silly right, like yeah no shit Ice, we knew that. BUT my point here is don’t be afraid to study photography, theatre, and staging for ideas. They actively work with light! It’s why I share so many images of models; it’s purposeful, focused staging of light with many of these compositions!

Brown-skinned Black people- brown-skinned people in general- GLOW in the light! Our skin reflects environmental light! There’s so much opportunity to play with that, and you can see different examples in those mediums.

Here are a couple articles of lighting in film focused on Black actors.

When lighting a person with dark complexion, the answer is not LIGHTENING THE SKIN, it’s understanding how light reflects off of dark skin.” -Nilah Magruder

Nilah Magruder (Black creator!) has an ENTIRE, thorough and wonderful essay on the topic, far better than I could give! She incorporates the use of cameras, lighting, painting, and more- so rather than be redundant here, I'm going to spotlight (ha see what I did there. It's okay, I know I'm funny) her and her explanation.

Incorporating Blackness in Color/Colorful Lighting

@dsm7 has an excellent and short visual explanation of how picking certain colors will lead to washing out or whitewashing Black characters, and how certain lighting and backgrounds (think the black and white photos on brighter backgrounds) will change the way their skin tone looks.

@nicosbighead has one of my favorite images on here, that shows how many different colors can still be used to convey the image of Blackness. Notice how all those pinks still worked?

@gaksdesigns has a beautiful picture here that I feel utilizes the light in a very minimal yet effective way to show highlights even on a palette that's fully brown.

This article approaches from a lighting perspective via filmmaking, but essentially Sade Ndya suggests instead of increasing the amount of light, change the color/lens of the light based on your character’s skin, as well as for the circumstances of the scene. They'll remain vibrant that way, and you’ll still capture what you need.

I know one way I do this on CSP (I think I’ve mentioned this but I can’t remember) is to use the Add Glow tool with the same or a similar shade of the character’s brown skin tone as a highlight under natural light, or maybe use different colors or filters depending on the sort of light on their skin at the time.

Here’s a reddit about it too, just because I know y’all value Reddit on here, and someone else discussed the topic that both Nilah and Sade discussed.

Is It Intentional?

There are going to be times where you intend for the light to be minimal. Maybe it’s a style choice. That should still show purposeful composition. Here’s an interview with famed Black director Ava Duvernay discussing the intentional darkness on Black actors in the prison scene in the movie Selma. To show that they're both trapped in prison AND that Martin is temporarily low on resolve- it's a part of the story that's being told.

I'm always talking about this: there is a difference between intention (and following through), and neglecting to think about it at all. And neglect isn't what we want, because often we can tell visually when it is- when an artist simply did not think to do it for one versus the rest.

Sidenote, on Youtube in the suggestions after Ava's interview, are also plenty of videos discussing lighting for dark-skin as well- why not take the chance to look?

Conclusion

We do not lack for light! We aren’t flat and lightless when you see us in life. It's actually a pretty awesome part of being brown-skinned. If you’re giving proper, flattering lighting to everyone else, give it to us as well. Study and experiment with ways to highlight brown skin.

You already know what I’m going to say. It’s going to take practice, same as anything else, because it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black art #black character design #black artists

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x Reader: A lick of Flame

Summary: reader is from Autumn, gifted with flame. You get into an argument and have to blow off steam, only to witness the shadows crack.

Warnings: Azzie having a ptsd moment, angst, throwing up

A/N: kind of curious about this dynamic? So this is basically a small test run to see how it works? What I can do with it?

“What did you say?”

“You’re deaf as well as blind?”

You snarl at the male, prowling closer, flame licking up your spine, begging to be unleashed upon him. “My High Lord has protected his people well, has already brought his court further that any of us had even hoped. Do not stand before me and think you can slander him.”

“Eris is a manipulative monster who delights in the suffering of others,” Azriel growls back, memories of find Mor, bloodied and pallid, discarded uselessly.

“And as the Spymaster of the Night Court, with your torturous ways, you believe you are entitled to pass judgement upon him?” You snarl, sparks skittering across your skin a heat burns across your chest. “I take no pleasure in my methods,” he growls, wings flaring slowly in threat, “while your High Lord would sit back and allow a female to bleed out upon his boarders as if she’s a plague to his land.”

The flame catches, licking up your arms as it explodes from your body, coating you in fiery armour. Searing rage erupts at his outlandish assumptions about the High Lord who has shown great care for his new kingdom, who has enabled your rising from the ashes and so many other alike. “You know nothing about my High Lord.”

The shadowsinger flinches as incandescent flame lights the room, burning at the air. He feels the searing sting as it lances up his arms from his hands, the memories pouring out, dousing him in oil as the childhood fire burns. The laughter surrounds him, the figures of his long since tortured half-sibling looming over him as they enjoy the heat that scarred his hands, searing until bone shone through.

“Do not insult my High Lord when he could reduce you to cinders.”

You watch, pleased, as he stumbles back into the furniture, eyes wide, lips parted, his hands recoil as if your fire will truly burn him. As if you’re a threat. You’re pleased he’s acknowledging it, for once. But then you note the agony dancing in his gaze, how his eyes are watching outward but he’s centred inside. You note the tremors to his hands, the sheen of sweat to his skin as it takes on a more sallow complexion.

The flame douses itself, flickering to an ember before it vanishes. You walk closer to him, concern rising within you. Your eyes settle on his trembling hands, observing the twisted flesh, how it melts into him. Burn scars, you realise. Fuck. You hadn’t meant to—

Shit.

“Azriel,” you breathe, moving closer. His wings are shuddering, attempting to tuck into themselves. As if to make himself disappear. His shadows are spasming around his powerful form as you shift forward, close enough to touch him. “Azriel,” you murmur, tone harsher as you try to bring him out of whatever nightmare he’s sunk into.

The second your hand settles on his shoulder, his conscious slams back into him, muscles screaming at him to defend against a past threat. He’s stronger now. He can fight back. And he does.

The Shadowsinger surges upright, catching you off guard, his shadows snatching your legs out from under you as his hands shove at your shoulders. You end up being slammed into the floor, the breath being knocked from your lungs at the sheer force of impact, skull cracking against the ground. Your mouth drops open as your vision swirls, going from black to white to glowing technicolour as pain explodes behind your eyelids.

A cold blade of steel slices against your throat as he pins you to the ground, lip curled back from his teeth, baring them. In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the upturned table, the vase shattered on the floor, flowers strewn across the paprika coloured rug.

Your eyes go wide as your hand flies to his, your free arm turning so the blade cuts into the side bone of your forearm, just below your wrist. You suck in air through your teeth at the pain, the icy burn of steel. “Azriel,” you hiss, muscles trembling as he presses the blade into your skin, drawing blood. “Azriel! I’m sorry!” Hot liquid traces a path down the side of your throat as you attempt to shrink into the ground. “I didn’t mean to—”

The words are cut from your mouth as he presses harder. Another move and he’ll slice your neck open. You’ll be dead in seconds. Left with no other choice, you summon your flame again, reforging the steel until it glows with blistering white pain. He snarls as the heat reaches his hands, recoiling from the melted steel as it burns against the soft flesh of your neck, before it’s tossed aside.

You slam your foot into his stomach, sending him flying back to the chair he’d pushed over in his attack. Frantic, gasping for air, you scramble back until you’re pressed against the wall, staring at him horrified, anticipating his next move.

Heavy breathing fills the burning air, the scent of charred flesh weaving through the room. You watch, shocked, as the male twists to the side, enough time to hide before you hear the sound of retching, upturning the contents of his stomach before his shadows spin to the windows, allowing cold air to crash into the heated room.

You swallow, your own hands trembling as you watch through terror-dilated pupils. His wings are trembling, violent shudders passing through him, and in the back of your mind you know he’s not okay. His breathing is a frenetic panic, sharp and quick inhales dizzying his mind as sweat beads on his forehead.

“Azriel…?” You whisper, lips shaking from adrenaline as it pounds through your body. He doesn’t reply, keeping his head turned away but the rise and fall of his wings is a dead giveaway. Before you know what you’re doing, your onto your hands and knees, hurriedly stumbling across the floor until you reach him.

Something screams at you not to touch him after last time, but you push it down, hands setting softly but firmly on his broad shoulders, turning him so his wings press into the upturned chair. You’re kneeling between his legs, hands moving to cup his jaw as you tilt his face to you. A sharp breath of air sucks between your teeth as your eyes lock with his. They’re wet, widened with terror.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, thumb brushing saliva from his lower lip, “you’re okay.” His hands manage to drag themselves to settle on his empty stomach, muscles spasming. His scent is drenched in fear, awash with terror as you continue to swipe your thumb in soothing gestures beneath his mouth. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, staring into his wide eyes, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” you breath catches as your eyes drop to his hands, heart twisting as he makes to pull them behind his back.

Without thinking, your hands drop to his, fingers linking with his own scarred set. He tenses, making to pull away but you hold firm. Part of you aches as he makes a strained sound in his throat. It sounds like a whimper. Your heart catches. You don’t even know if you’re doing the right thing, holding his hands. What if you’re simply inflicting more damage, adding to the scars?

“Do you want me to let go?” You whisper, eyes latching onto his, the rise and fall of his chest evening out. The male just stares up at you, shock tearing apart in his gaze. “Azriel?” You repeat, leaning slightly closer, “do you want me to stop?” His eyelids flicker as he takes in your words.

“Stop.” It’s hardly a breath, but you hear it. Your fingers unlink with his and he sucks in air between his teeth. “No…” He sounds pained, anguish coating his tongue, eyes skittishly dancing around the room until they land on you again. Concern for your own well-fare rises again. He’s not in his right mind at the moment. He nearly killed you.

Slowly, you shift onto your legs, attempting to put some distance between you as his wings tremor. Something silver catches your eye as it falls, landing in his lap. You meet his gaze. “Stop it.” They’re so small, words uttered so softly they could have been mistaken for reverent. He lifts his hands to his face, shielding himself from your wide-eyed gaze.

It’s unmistakeable. Tears slip between his fingers, tracing salty paths over his burnt flesh. “Azriel…” You don’t know what to do. You can’t do anything here, but leaving him feels wrong. Not when he’s so vulnerable. “Azriel?” You murmur, leaning into him again, “tell me what to do.” But he’s too in his head to hear.

You wince, taking in a deep breath before reaching forward. His eyes flick up to your hands, noting their approach. Before you know it, his shadows have flared at his back, like a might wave about to crush you, but then his arms sweep in, pulling you against him as his head buries into the crook of your neck.

He’s gripping you tightly - desperately - and it’s kind of hurting your neck. You can’t swallow. Hesitantly, you lift your arms to wrap beneath his shoulders, careful to mind his wings. Slowly, you shift into his lap, enabling you bring your hands to curl over the nape of his neck. Your fingers thread through his hair, softly scratching over his skin as wet droplets land on your shoulder. He’s still trembling beneath your hands, but it’ll less pronounced. His powerful arms wrap snuggly around your waist, pulling your front flush against his chest as he cries into your collar bone.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, softly, fingers sweeping through his silky hair with ease, “you’re going to be okay.”

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel fluff #Azriel angst #acotar

[ratstwond]

Smiling Critters? As if the cartoon show?

Disclaimer: This is made for fun, there's no specific lore to them.

Warning: Bad English.

MC will be a Red Panda, since i did research about these little fellas and immediately fall inlove with them. But that doesn't mean i won't write for Lamb!Reader or Other animal!Reader.

Reblogs and comments are encouraged! Any kind of interaction are appreciated!

Pervious || Next

Confusion plastered on your face when you rolled to the side, expect to feel the hard, unforgiving cold floor. You were met with the soft patches of grass, tickling your skin, swaying slightly to the cool wind. Colorful flowers surrounded you as if they're concerned. The smell of fresh air assaulting your nostrils, lacing with a tint of newly baked pie. Sounds of laughters and happy squeals filled your eardrums instead of off-putting silence or screams that get you traumatized for days. Your body is light, relaxed, the backpack's absence seems to

Is this heaven? Or a dream? Was everything in Playtime.co just a nightmare? So many questions running through your mind.

Bird's chriping snap you out, you brush it off. More distracted by the newly surroundings, warmth envelopes like a weighted blanket as you squint in surprise when the sun light grazed your eyes. Unfamiliar with the sudden change of environment. Being in the dark for so long with makeshift lights and sunny sky had your body unconsciously adapted, naturals make you recoiled.

You feel like crying. You don't know when was the last time you bother to think about the outside when all you focused was trying to survive. Reality hit you like a truck and left you broken.

"Oh no no! Don't cry!"

In the midst of moment, hands reaching out to cup both sides of your face, tilting you chin upward gently. You can't help but jolt, quickly get on your feet and stood with your arms raised, tail puffed up and claws out.

You got a good look at the foolish soul that dared to touch you so suddenly and immediately you recognize the familar mascot. A bear. Who's equally as spooked as you, debating whether back off or calm you down. Red fur with some lighter tone of red, heart necklace dangling on its neck, signature blackened eyes with white pupils, and a stretched out smile. She is nervous, and you're too. Both of you had a stare off for what seems to lasted 3 minutes before the bear decided to cut the tense string.

"Hi-! My name is Bobby Bearhug."

You stared, Bobby took it as a sign to continue.

"I'm really sorry.. For touching you so suddenly like that. It wasn't a wise choice-"

"No-nono! It's okay! It's not your fault, i wasn't in my right mind!"

Now it's her turn to stare at you, unexpected as you fumbled, fiddling with your fingers nervously. Now it's her turn to jolted when you let out a short scream after you took a good look at your hands- er paws? Colored fur instead of normal human skin you once had. Panicked, you ran to a nearby river, glancing at your reflection just to be met with a whole new body. Built exactly like the critters, black conjunctiva with white pupils, unsual big mouth. A red panda. And oh you smell like old books-

You grabbed your own ear.

"Wah- hey!"

It was a bit stupid to tug it so harshly like that, the painful ache on your head is enough for you to know that this is real. You groaned in pain, sitting on the grass then get spooked by seeing your tail tucked beside you. Bobby, upon watching you - couldn't help but snort while you're busy freaking out by your own tail.

She shook her head, taking her seat beside you - who had done with their silly antics and is too tired to move - as she only smiled. You're still confused why all of the sudden you woke up in another- word? Yet, weird shits happened all of the time so you maybe will just go along with whatever came to you.

You told Bobby your name, which, the bear immediately brightened, smiling happily. She shakes your hand when you held out,

"You're silly." She added.

"Thank you."

#smiling critters #reader insert #x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #smilling critters x reader #fanfic