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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days

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Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!

Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.

The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.

Hope you like it! <3

Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!

WC: ~1.7k

Divider by @cafekitsune

My wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height.

When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch.

Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out.

I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.

Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.

I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter.

A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk.

“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down.

He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.

“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg.

“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom.

People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out

“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.

“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest.

“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses.

“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly.

“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins.

“Bite me.”

“With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand.

“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles.

My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side.

“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.

“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back.

“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath.

“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder.

He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks.

“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up.

I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle.

“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear

“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”

#acomaf #acosf #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acowar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel spymaster #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #requested #protective azriel

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wandagcre · 3 days

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Hii! How you doing?

I just read your drabble about mob!Sam reaction to reader asking for a divorce.

Could you do one were reader thinks the only way of getting away from Sam is being dead so she tries to k!lol herself and Sam finds her and she gets really scare because she might lose the love of her life, so after that she does everything to be a better wife for reader

if i break | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob!Boss Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You didn't know how much those four words would affect the following days for you and Sam. With your deteriorating mental state, Sam's punishment, and out of control aggressiveness, you're backed up in the corner, completely stuck.

WARNING: making out, suggestive content, groping, spanking, mild torture, conditioning, self-harm, suicide attempt Words: 2.5k Note: you can read this as a stand-alone bc it's an alternative scenario to the drive you mad series but those previous parts can give u better context! reminder to not actually put yourselves in this situation guys this is all (an unhealthy) fantasy

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

One would say you shouldn't be ungrateful—a roof over your head, jewelry and clothing that could solve a block's poor demise instantly, and a food to eat on your plate is the least of your worries. There's acres of space, just for you and your wife.

Sam provides everything imaginable to your heart's desire.

Yet, you feel yourself wither each day.

You've been punished by Sam that very day, when you courageously asked her for a divorce. You felt ridiculed for a short and humerous answer of the woman whom you've loved for a while. But even that couldn't sustain the foundation you built with Sam alone.

That same night, you found yourself being spanked and manhandled by the woman.

You've overheard of her tone and voice, the calculation in her cruel words — how it roared affirmative and certain to follow through as she planned despite the protests by some of her inner circle, sometimes including her own right hand and sister, Tara, made your wife sound as though she's detached from humanity.

You regret learning an ounce from that day. You couldn't believe how you let yourself be in this sick charade, laying down beside this woman whom you once adored.

So, when Sam came home as usual, with her loosened tie and undone earrings, the thick tension resurfaced once again.

But she deeply craved your touch much as you do.

Although you obliged, knowing where it was headed from the start, you were blinded. After all there was an undeniable spark that you knew wouldn't easily go away with Sam's affection and the skill she had to pleasure you. You straddled Sam as your thumb caressed her baby hair, her soft kneading on your ass that only grew rough and sliding over your shorts to feel it bare as her kisses became needy and almost bruising.

What you didn't know was how Sam felt you were giving in as though it was a parting gift to her. The thought riled her up to an increasing madness.

She flipped you over, hovering beneath you and pushed your head against the soft mattress. It made you yelp at the force she exuded.

"I fought so hard to have you, amor!" Sam's frustrated voice roared in the master's bedroom, tears welling up your eyes. "What makes you think I'll let you get away this time? Maybe you're not bright enough if you think I would sign divorce papers from you," she angrily spat.

You felt so small. It was beyond suffocating as Sam and the way her fingers dug in your scalp as she pressed you down while within her grasp felt nothing more but terrifying.

"I-I don't feel good. Not for a while now, Sam." You admit, words slurring in your contorted mouth.

Sam gave you a mocking grin. "And I didn't wish to be this rough on you, sweetheart. But you've left me with no choice,"

She gave you a good spanking until the flesh of your ass was tender and stinging. By the end of it, you were sniffling and in tears. Sam didn't bother putting back your underwear, it was nothing but humiliating. She swiftly carries your weight like you're featherlight, your body slung over her shoulder. Your vision is upside down and you began to wail in protest, cold sweat ran through your body.

You didn't trust how Sam was handling you — this woman that stood before you didn't hold remorse nor familiarity and warmth you knew. Sam was akin to that first night she had you handcuffed. True enough, it was history repeating itself as you found yourself dropped in a smaller bed, enough to fit one, worst was how bits of it felt like an exposed space, sealing your deal in this prison-like room.

It was dowright ridiculous.

Sam firmly held you by the wrist, against the metal headboard. The clanking was continuous, you look up through your blurry vision, tears not stopping, you're cuffed.

"We go by a reward system here, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll keep you fed. That is if — a big if — you won't lash out. All you have to say is you won't bring up a silly thing as divorce ever again." Sam patted your cheek, "Of course, you need to prove it by actions too. You're monitored. I'll be the judge of that." She motions over the camera at the corner of the room.

You wipe your nose, sniffling. "Isn't this too over the top?"

"Better vicinity, is all I'm going to say." Sam clicks her tongue, her body above you and one of her hands intimately placed on your bare stomach where your night gown slightly ridden up.

You had no phone inside, even the use of television was needed to be earned. Naturally, the almost empty space made you think a lot. It was few hours before you were freed from the cuffs.

It brought more realization that you were being isolated, completely tucked away from the existing relationships you've built with your friends. It happened slow and deliberate, that you found yourself hopeless to Sam's doings. Maybe she was even behind the unjustified killings from years ago, at your little town. Hell, maybe you were in denial all these time that Sam conjured on eliminating your mother figure from work, too.

You wouldn't be surprised anymore but the thought makes you retch.

The first few days was tough. You cried until you became exhausted. Soon it was futile and useless. You tried protesting by not eating at all, wondering what starvation will bring, only to be intervened by Sam herself. She kept you fed and bathed you, that you felt disgusted. Sam wasn't worthy to see your vulnerable state.

Sometimes, you rebelled against the trained women she sent in — at times where Sam couldn't make an exception to personally accommodate you. They let you angrily punch them, never fighting back, which made you smaller and invisible. These trained guards were obligated to report to Sam and so your punishment was still made.

You even tried memorizing the room. Attempting to knock at the walls to see if it had a weak spot, scanning as much as you can. Albeit, the windows itself were also useless. You should have known better that Sam would kept it close and bulletproof.

The depravation soon kicked in. You're conditioned at the reward she gave you that even a simple few hours of watching television made you a little bit at ease. Anything that came from outside world, you soaked it up. Nonetheless, you were treated like a pet.

But it didn't change your state, life still being sucked out of your very body.

One night, Sam was scrubbing your back clean as you sat at the bathtub. It was filled with silence, with occasional comments from Sam from the outside. She acted like everything was normal.

"Why are you doing this?" Was all you could say. You were tired.

The silence covered you two until you were in your towel, ready to dry off.

"This," Her index finger was in the middle of your chest. "Does not only beat for you, but a part of me as well." Sam continued, her voice tenuous and low. "You didn't know how your existence motivated me to survive that hell hole that my father sent me into. I need you back. I need my wife back. Isn't that all enough?"

"But what part of me do you need? Should I be stuck in that submissive and clueless, attending to your needs? Or did you want the girl that you left all those years?" You bravely confronted Sam, who was taken aback at your words.

At the end, you wouldn't take it all back. You wanted her to know—to fully simmer those thoughts.

You wanted to feel something and to end it all at the same time.

Sam had overlooked and underestimated your creativity. The cheap toilet was one of the things that was left unfinished for this spare room and it only took you to carry out its heavy lid, smashing the ceramic cover in pieces.

All you registered was the sharp piece against your soft skin, your knees that trembled and thudded against the hard floor. You feel your consciousness slipping, the fluttering of your eyes slow and uncontrable. Hopefully, to no return, you thought.

It was a blur, dreamless state. You were at peace for a while.

Though you had a small inkling that it won't last for long, you feel your mind waking up to consciousness. Your ears register the beeping of the electrocardiogram served as a white noise and your breathing sounded like it was contained. Opening your eyes, you see that you're tubed and one of your arms were infused with IV. You feel a gentle hold, on your unharmed forearm by Sam herself. She looked out of place, wearing your favorite cardigan as she slept soundly beside you.

When you moved and groaned, it stirred Sam to consciousness as well. You feel the fear brewing but it long vanished when your wife looked nothing but in complete distraught with tears spilling from her exhausted brown eyes — unlike you've ever seen before — temporarily stripped away from her cruelty and madness.

She held tighter on your forearm, but it was out of desperation and concern more than anything.

"You asked me and I never answered that day," Sam continued to sob. You see her physically restraining to hold all of you that it started to pain you. "I can't—I can never imagine being that stupid again. It could have been my last words and you suffered enough from me,"

"Sam... I could have asked better—" You protest as clarity hit you, but Sam's quivering lips halted you.

Your wife strongly shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense. Let me finish, please. It was entirely my fault and mine alone for putting you in this situation and I never made myself much of safe space for you. But all I needed was everything you can offer. All of you, mi amor. I don't care if it was the girl I left, the one who changed, all I know is that I cannot do this life without you," She moves to bring your palm over her cheek. You feel Sam's fraught, her need to feel that you are tangible and beside her.

For a moment your anger and frustration with her had faded. It was a day full of crying, nonetheless.

Recovery was surprisingly better than you expected with Sam's improved presence around you. She was downright attentive to your needs, more than ever before. You need to pee? Sam was right by the door. You wanted to read or watch a movie? Sam could not care any less, she'll do work beside you, too. Most of the time, your wife would watch them with you, surprisingly even if she hates the genre. Were you craving for a specific food? Sam will go and get it for you.

You even joked that you wanted a foot massage but Sam took it seriously, immediately went to give you one.

"You know I'm not pregnant right?" You humorously told her. The way her head spun to your direction, flustered, had you uncontrollably smile.

Sam was taken aback. "W-What?"

"Don't you have work to do, whatever it is?"

"No. I can do them remotely, it's always been a flexible thing." I have my priorities sorted out much better now." Sam casually says. You've never seen her this carefree and it hit a pang of warmth and familiarity more than ever.

You nodded slowly. "Alright. But, can you stop acting like I'm fragile? I don't... I haven't thought of doing anything since then." The playfulness quickly faded from you.

You looked away and cannot help but glance over the healing wound on your forearm. You busied yourself with the film playing on screen. Sam opens her hand that was adjacent to your side, you don't fight the invitation and instead you make the move to hold it.

"I know you're not, mi amor. It's not that, it's just—" Sam sighed, though her eyes never left yours. "I don't want to spend remaining of my time with you by fighting or making you suffer ever again, even by the slightest just because I am greedy when it comes to you, amor. I want to make better memories, whether you choose to stay or not."

You don't reply and Sam was unchanging. All you knew is how it lifted a great weight on your shoulder.

You've never returned to the room where she kept you nor passed by the area. Interestingly enough, it was under construction again.

Days later, Sam remained at home. She didn't fail with the flowers and her gifts increasingly became thoughtful. It was between a new book of the genre you wanted, it could've been a trip to a place you mentioned. The most surprising so far was her first attempt of doing a crochet tulips for you.

It was a better sense of direction for the two of you. Sure you had needs, and the sexual tension and libido may have kicked in, but it felt like you were in a courting phase. It annoyed you sometimes, how your wife pranced in almost nothing and you were just to stare.

Though if you asked, Sam wouldn't hesitate to tell you—whether it was work, or something personal you've always been too shy or afraid to do so from the past. If you asked to burn the world, Sam would've handed you the gas and the lighter.

That's why you were taken aback during a particular rainy day, you perked up at the sound of the door and saw Sam who came back with nervous smile on her face and a new material on her other hand. She handed you a manila envelope and followed you as you took it and sat on one of the chairs at the dining area.

You curiously took it and opened it, your throat quickly dried, loss at words as you saw that it was the divorce papers you've been asking for. It made you suddenly stand up straight.

"It's only a choice up to you now. No dirty games from me, I swear on it." Sam made a sign of oath. You looked at her with the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "If you want, I can send you best of my men, back to your town for extra measure. Not to update me! Just because, well, you've been associated to me for quite some time." She rubbed her neck in what appears to be out of shame.

You incredulously looked at Sam's face. To be back from the life you have been taken away from, to reunite with people that you've missed... but it also meant being away from Sam and to no longer call her your wife—it felt sickening. You were coming around to closely forgiving her, to giving her another chance as she proved herself better than before. You doubt that this woman can actually hurt you again, after all.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you courageously grabbed Sam by the collar of her shirt. "Fuck you, Sam Loomis. Don't mess around like this."

"I'm not complaining, but I don't understand..." Sam murmured as you pushed the double door, leading her to the bed.

You two ended up catching on much needed passionate touches and sinful nights you've deeply missed with the woman. Your soul was ignited with each kiss Sam has left your neck, every touch had set you on fire. Funnily enough, the roles were reversed. You cannot be parted away from her, your arm slung and secure over her nape. What moved you the most was her kissing away the now-scarring form on your forearm.

The divorce papers? Somewhere lying on the floor, completely forgotten.

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#requested #sam carpenter x reader #sam loomis #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpe #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #wlw #lesbian

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synthetickitsune · 3 days

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omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻

thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk

DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader

He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.

The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…

“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.

“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”

He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.

“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.

The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”

“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”

Your smile is sad. He hates it.

“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.

“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”

“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”

You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.

“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”

You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too.

“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”

He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well.

“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”

“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”

“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup.

Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.

“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.

“You got it, Min.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svthub #seventeen x reader #dk scenarios #dk angst #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #svt reactions #svt scenarios #svt angst #drabble #angst #requested

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xiaolanhua · 2 days

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Lovely Runner 선재 업고 튀어 (2024) Dir. Boo Sung Chul, Yoon Jong Ho, Kim Tae Yeong – Ep. 6

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 2 days

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Because, you know, you can tell from their face when someone's in love. It's like the feeling is overflowing.

For @nieves-de-sugui 🤍

#living with him #Kare no Iru Seikatsu #living with him ep 2 #japanese bl #japanese drama #japanese series #myedit #asianlgbtqdrama #queer drama #queer series #bl drama #bl series #requested #your wish is my command #I am happy you are back for some jbl requests 🥰

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mikkomacko · 2 days

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i’m loving the him and i series so much!! and i keep thinking about her first finding out about the devils and what the reaction would be (obviously happy in the end ik) would love maybe a blurb of that or just your thoughts on it :)

“When are you going to tell me what you actually do?��

He’s caught off guard by the question, you can tell by the way he looks up from the sink, his eyes like a deer in headlights when they meet yours through the bathroom mirror.

“What do you mean?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, foam dripping down his fingers.

You shrug, leaning against the doorway. “I know you own The Rock, but there’s no way a bar owner lives like this.” You motion to the elegant bathroom, the mirror with different lighting settings, the claw foot bathtub, the double shower. No one in Jersey just lives like this.

He spits into the sink, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s uh, it’s a popular bar.”

The excuse is lame. You know it, he knows it. Maybe you should be concerned, cautious about him. But you spent a couple months with him now and he’s given you no reason to ever be worried or anxious. Not when you’re with him and not toward him.

“Just…” you hesitate, watching him rinse off his toothbrush and place it in the holder. He won’t meet your eyes, instead busying himself with cleaning up the marble counter. “You don’t do anything illegal right? Like you’re not a drug dealer?”

That makes him stop, immediately turning to look at you with those doe eyes of his. Your heart jumps into your throat, mouth going dry.

“You sell drugs?!”

“No, no, no!” Nico rushes out, waving his hands. “I don’t sell drugs. I don’t take drugs. Do you take drugs?”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “No I don’t do drugs! Do you think I’d be put-off by a potential drug dealer if I did drugs?”

Nico shrugs, raking his hands through his hair. You watch the movement of his arm, the way his chest shifts against the tight wife-beater he’s wearing. A hint of the chain he always has on pokes through, the outline reminding you of the ones you see on all his friends.

“My friends said you’re in a gang,” you tell him.

“What do you think?”

You stand up straight, tilting your head to the side as you examine him. “They’re wrong,” you say matter-of-fact. “A gang leader doesn’t just own a business. They like push drugs on Coney Island and hang out with teenagers.

“You guys are like…like a family.”

Nico bites at his lip, smiling a bit at that. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.”

He nods towards his bedroom, and you move to sit on the edge of his bed. Nico follows, sighing heavily as he sinks to kneel in front of you.

“We are a family,” he tells you, taking your hands in his. “Me and Timo and the boys. We’re a family, just in a different way.”

Confused, you shake your head. “I don’t get it.”

Nervous, he licks his lips and lets out a breathy laugh. “We’re a family like in a God Father way, a”

“A mafia?!” You cut-off. “Like Italian mafia?”

“No, no, it’s like the mob. Different than the mafia and not Italian at all. Most of us are Swiss, Jesper you know is Swedish. And locals. American, Canadian, yeah.”

You’re quiet for a moment, head spinning with thoughts. It makes sense, the bar and the money and his apartment. The coded talk between him and his friends, the way they call him boss-

“Wait, you’re the boss?” You ask, “You’re in charge of them all.”

Sheepishly he nods, like he’s worried you’re gonna tell him they impolite or act up. But he’s proud, you can tell by the glimmer in his dark eyes. It’s like that cocky twinkle he usually has but softer, more personal.

“Should I be scared of you?” You whisper, afraid he’ll say yes, that he’ll give you a reason to run.

“Never,” Nico assures instantly. “You never have to be scared of me or the boys. You’re, you mean too much to me. If anything, Jersey should be scared of you.”

“What, why?”

He clears his throat, looking down at your hands as he squeezes them. “Because if anyone so much as said your name in the wrong way, they’ll be dealing with us.”

It sends shivers down your spine, warms your chest. He sounds so certain, so confident in the abilities of himself and the boys. Flattered, you lightly giggle and pry a hand out of his to stroke through his hair.

You find the gold chain on his neck, rest your palm over his chest. “Devils?” You ask, “is that why you all wear the horns?”

Proud and impressed, he nods. “Smart girl,” he murmurs sweetly. “Technically the Devils, but the others call us the Devs.”

“There’s more of you?”

He nods, placing his hand over yours. “Yeah a few. Biggest concerns are our closest guys in New York.”

You’re confused again, not really understanding how this works with different gangs - mob’s around. It makes your head hurt, a sharp pain right behind your left eye.

“I - I think I need to think about this Nico,” you murmur “not tonight. It’s too much tonight. I just needed to know that you’re not a drug dealer.”

He kisses your knuckles, rising to his feet as he nods. “Yeah yeah, whatever you want to know I’ll tell you.”

“Ok.”

“You still staying the night or should I drive you home?”

Scoffing, you shove at him and then flop back into the plush mattress. “Obviously I’m staying. Nothing beats this bed.”

Standing over you, he chuckles. You press your foot into his hip and he wraps those thick fingers around your ankle.

“You’re welcome to leave though.” You tease.

Releasing you, he jumps onto the bed next to you. Snuggling into his pillow, he smiles contently. “I don’t think so little miss, this bed is all mine.”

You crawl up to the pillows, laying on your side to face him. “Well that half is,” You quip back, smiling innocently “boss.”

#him and i #him and i blurb #nico hischier #mob boss nico hischier #mob boss nico blurb #nico hischer x reader #requested

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ttpdicons · 3 days

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ttpd photoshoot (colored) | icons

colored by 4k_taylorr on twitter/x!

request here!

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #taylor swift headers #ttpd #taylor swift icons #taylor icons #taylor swift edits #ttpd icons #ttpd headers #icons #ttpd photoshoot #requested #i can do it with a broken heart #am i allowed to cry #it’s an art #taylor swift icon #taylor edits #taylor icon #taylor edit

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volterran-wine · 23 hours

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𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐦 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞

#Caius Volturi #Caius Volturi Moodboard #The Volturi #Twilight Renaissance #Requested #Fun fact; most of the images are from Musée d'Orsay in Paris

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shirefantasies · 2 days

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can i request thorins company with a reader with really long hair?and maybe they have a really long hair care routine or something

also i luv your work!!Hope ur doing well💓

Doin’ better these days 🤞🏻 we love hair imagines for the company hehe

Thorin’s Company When You Have Really Long Hair

Absolutely worships it: Thorin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Dori

Teases you a little: Dwalin, Nori, Fili

Just happy to have you: Balin, Bofur, Ori, Kili, Bilbo

Whether you wear it down, up, braids, locs, one big braid, your hair one of your favorite features of theirs and they all have a different way of showing it. Thorin, for example, loves to gently comb his fingers through your tresses if he can and is always holding it out of the way for you. Especially if you are not a dwarf, he deconstructs a lot of gatekeeping he would have done in the past and devotes himself to performing dwarven hair care practices and styles on you. Oin cares not for how long your routine is, he will learn it. Add to it or alter it a bit, even, with some of his own products, and you can’t really be too frustrated because dwarves do have the best hair products in Middle Earth. He has the gentlest hands as he caresses, treats, and styles your hair, never causing you a moment’s pain. Gloin glows with pride, practically insisting on handling your hair so long as you trust him. He’ll brag to anyone that you have the most gorgeous hair he’s ever seen even if you aren’t a dwarf. Let him do it up in braids, it’ll make him happier than anything! It can be hard to connect sometimes if you don’t speak Khuzdul, at least for Bifur, so he throws himself into acts of service. One of these is taking up the trouble of your long care routine. Silently he beckons you to sit between his legs, his hands working through your flowing hair. Gives you braids that match his and kisses them when he finishes. Bombur’s beard is very long, so he understands elaborate care routines. You two take up a trade of sorts where you re-braid his beard and he treats your hair, perhaps even trying a new style if you like! It may take a long time, but Bombur is in no hurry. Especially if your special routine gives him time to have his hands on you and in the hair he can't stop complimenting. Ever the aficionado of beauty, Dori adores the great flow of your locks and all their potential. If he has his way, he'll try many a different style and even decoration, weaving the prettiest beads and baubles and flowers in your hair. Always reminding you to take care of yours, he'll half-jokingly sigh and concede that alright, he'll simply do it himself. But of course that is simply his excuse to touch your beautiful hair, of course!

Dwalin loves your hair, adores the way you've let your tresses grow in a fashion any dwarf would be proud of, but he can't deny the irony. Your hair is long, flowing, tumbling far past your shoulders, and yet he has none. By a choice as proud as yours, but still. How could he help teasingly asking you, "Ya sure you don't wanna look like me? Lotta weight off those pretty shoulders." Similarly, Nori teases you, dramatically sweeping it off of your shoulder, that it gets in the way when he’s trying to enjoy you. He loves being able to move it off your face or off your shoulder for a kiss, though, he just can’t help joking around at all the time you take with it and simply how much there is. Of course Fili is going to tease you, it’s part of how he shows he cares. Jokes about if you’ll trip on your hair someday or playfully taking it in his hands to use as a blanket are interspersed with compliments about your beauty and Fili jumping constantly between you and danger. He’s always offering to braid it away from your eyes or tie it up to shorten it if it swings near your feet.

Balin cares about the heart more than the body, so while he cannot deny that your hair is beautiful he would not mind one bit if you lost it all. He brushes or detangles it so gently, but his eyes are on you the whole time and his favorite part of your elaborate care is simply the conversations you share, idle or deep. As someone who doesn’t exactly align with the beauty standards of his people, Bofur acknowledges he’d be quite the hypocrite if he imposed them on you, especially if you aren’t even a dwarf! What he wants most is someone who can make him smile, and as he’s told you you could do that even if you were bald as Dwalin! He lives to reassure you and also enjoys hearing that you’d love him no matter what, too, as you do each other’s braids. Ori is not focused on appearances, either, practically not noticing your hair until he makes to sketch it out and realizes how impressively long it really is. Then he’ll talk to you about it, curiosity overtaking him as he asks questions like how long it took to get it like that, if it gets in the way, what you do for it… Flushes the first time you invite him to touch it, but from then on he’s addicted! Plays with it idly a lot of the time. Kili finds a little bit of beauty in everyone, so long hair or short you can catch his heart. He can’t help swooning over the way your long tresses, braids, however you keep it glisten in the sun. Teasingly reaches out to touch it, but never actually does until he has permission. When he does, though, expect a few playful tugs! Bilbo has even less expectations about your hair as hobbits don’t typically keep theirs so long. It comes as a bit if a surprise to him to see yours, but it reminds him of the beauty of the elves. It’s unfamiliar and he loves the unfamiliar if he lets himself admit it. He does, and from there he insists upon relieving you of that long routine of yours “now that I’m here”.

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