#NOW THAT I HAVE THIS MASTERPIECE AT MY FINGERTIPS

[fandomsnfluff]

BRUH NIGHTBRINGERRRR AAAAAHHHH i was able to download it about an hour ago and oh my fucking god?? the graphics?? the artwork?? the cards?? the anIMATIONS???? LIKE THE FUCKING BATTLE ANIMATIONS ARE SO ADORABLE I ALMOST FAINTED THE FIRST TIME I DID THEMMMM SJKFHSKJDHJKSDH

it's. official. i wanna just disappear for a week so i can start my grind on this game instead of going to classsss 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his art.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the paint smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[arminsumi]

hellooo to you, i’d like a suguru pls, post premature death suguru meeting a ‘monkey’ that he falls in love with, hence he have another reflection.. maybe jujutsu sorcerers’ job is indeed to protect them..

CHANGE OF HEART.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: idk how 3.4k words happened 🤷‍♀️ i just got rlly into this idea ty for your requesttt!! and i'm so sorry if u didn't want smut but the scene kinda just happened 😭 it's pretty vanilla tho i think?? i put a little forewarning before the scene just in case u strictly don't want to read it

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Meeting you challenges the beliefs he thought he was so sure of. Unexpectedly falling in love with a 'monkey' causes Geto Suguru to have a change of heart.

WARNINGS — not proofread 😵‍💫 angst, 1 smut scene, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

SMUT WARNINGS — solo scene in the shower, Geto fantasizing about you (bj, creampies)

WORDCOUNT ≈ 3.4k

PLAY ME ♪ black beauty

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

A question that springs to Geto Suguru’s mind when he meets you is where have you been all my life? Because if he would have met you sooner, his beliefs wouldn’t have solidified.

You’re talking animatedly about your passions over a steaming beverage, sitting opposite this dark-haired man. His features are brooding and he’s rather unapproachable, or so he thinks – but you find gentleness and calmness in his face; the way his brows have a subtle, sad arch to them, the way the sharpness of his eyes contrasts beautifully to the softness of his cheeks. He’s always loathed his beady eyes and babyish cheeks, so it’s a pleasant shock to hear you flippantly compliment them.

“Why did you come to sit with me?” he asks curiously, fingertip caressing the rim of the ceramic coffee cup.

You think for a second, then speak your mind, “You looked approachable.”

Such an unexpected response. He’s intrigued. How could you possibly think he is approachable? He’s sure that if you’d known what he’s done, you’d never say that – you’d never sit for coffee with him at this cafe.

“Am I?” he tilts his head at you in response, “That’s a first. Lots of people in my life have told me that I’m unapproachable. And they avoid me.”

“How could anyone avoid you! You’re very – well, sorry if this sounds too forward – but you’re very alluring.”

Suguru arches his brow. Another unexpected response. You’re captivating him the more you speak.

“Thank you.” He responds earnestly, cool soft voice wafting through your chest, “Though that is quite forward.”

He wonders if his subtle teasing tone gets through to you. Your coy smile tells him that it did. He seems very captivated now, his abyssal black eyes are absorbing your features like they’re an artful masterpiece, like an Edo period piece of work that one can’t stop looking at admiringly.

Just when he feels his intrigue and curiosity for you reach its peak, he recoils; he completely shells himself, as if he was ashamed to have let himself become to enraptured by one of them.

There’s a long silence, you don’t notice that his opinion of you has shifted, you don’t even notice the slight scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. Because he masks it well.

“I have to be somewhere.” He excuses vaguely – it’s not uncommon to hear that from someone, so you don’t think much of it.

When talking with you for the past two hours, he seemed so appreciative that you sat with him and held good conversation, so you expected someone as direct as him to voice his thanks. A small thanks for having coffee with me, or a flippant thanks for sitting with me – nothing of the sort comes out of his mouth as he stands to leave.

You notice he only drank a sip of his black coffee this whole time. He must have been very captivated indeed, to not even enjoy his beverage.

It would have been easier to keep thoughts of you at bay had you not said goodbye to him as he left. Hearing your voice chime in his ear casts a spell over his mind.

He walks with his hands sunk deep in his pockets and heads to the subway station. Hesitant footsteps slow at the street where he said his last goodbye to his best friend just a few days ago. For a fleeting moment, Suguru is grateful for the resurgence of that tragic memory, because at least it drove you out of his mind.

But it is indeed just a fleeting moment, because once he descends into the subway station, his mind is refilled with thoughts of you. Your hair color. Your skin color. Your eye color. The clothes you wore. The scent lingering on them. The way you talked. How you spoke to him kindlier than anyone from the world outside Jujutsu High ever has. All he’s known before you is coldness and apprehensiveness.

He wonders, as he boards the train, if you would behave differently knowing that he’s a sorcerer. Knowing that he sees things as morbid as curses with his bare eyes. Knowing that he’s laid waste to a village of people. Knowing that he’s one of the strongest people in the world, and probably the strongest you’ll ever meet in your lifetime – unless you happen to come across Gojo Satoru someday.

He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to.

As the train doors shudder shut behind him and he holds onto the dangling handles, he mutters a small “damn it…” under his breath. Because behind those eyes are waning beliefs, ones he was so sure about before you came along.

Suguru’s still thinking about you when he boards off the train and returns home to his apartment at nightfall. The rustling of the key in the door stirs the attention of his two little girls, and once it swings open, they burst with excitement at his arrival.

“We missed you!” they say almost in perfect harmony together.

“Missed you too, angels. Let’s get dinner cooking, hm? Mimiko, why do you have paint all over your cheeks? Ah – Nanako, no more painting for you. Yes, I’m making the rules. Treat your sister nicely and you can paint again.”

Suguru’s mind is temporarily cleared of you – but only temporarily, while he’s scrambling for ingredients around the tiny kitchen and patiently listening to childish chitchat. “No jumping in the kitchen – here, I’ll put you on the countertop – and uppp you go – stay there – Nanako, please don’t eat raw butter, it’s not funny. Give it here. Will you help me please?”

Soon there’s a simmering pot of food on the kotatsu table. There’s a storm coming, the girls cling to Suguru’s legs when he’s doing the dishes. “It’s just a thunderstorm coming, nothing to be afraid of, okay? Yes, I’ll read you to sleep. Nanako, please don’t bite my leg, it’s not funny – Mimiko don’t imitate your sister. Ah you two…”

He has the voice of a stressed-out father.

Droplets of soapy water drip off plates in the drying rack. Thunder rumbles outside the window. The wind swerving into the apartment’s living room feels cold when Suguru emerges from the girl’s bedroom – he heaves a sigh of relief knowing that they ate well and fell asleep soundly.

And it’s so cold in that apartment now.

She would be the warmth in the room.

It’s quiet, too.

Her voice would carry through this hallway like a serenade.

Suguru creeps into the shower, tripping on something the kids left laying around on his way to the bathroom.

⚠️ smut scene in case u want to skip

The drone of shower water fills his ears, he slowly peels off his sweater, giving a glance at the reflection of his physique in the body-length mirror. He’s never looked at his body with so much thought before.

Would she caress my chest like this?

One foot enters the shower, another followers. The door shuts and the glass steams up.

Does her mouth feel as soft as the words that come out of it?

He lets out a low groan. Rivulets of water run down his body.

She’d feel better than my hand. She’d take care of me.

Suguru’s hands trace up his chest and neck, his mind imagining it as your hand – he’s mimicking his imagination, picturing how sensual and gentle your touch would be. Your fingers wouldn’t be calloused like his, they’re small.

He lets himself get completely lost in a fantasy of you and him standing together under the showerhead, bodies close and heating up together. Without realizing, he’s lathering up his body with soap with slow, sensual movements. His hand grazes over his cock, it’s standing up and jumping a little at the thought of your face. Before he knows it, he’s slowly pumping his cock and tilting his head off to the side in pleasure.

Pretty sultry eyes flutter shut and his tip twitches. He squeezes and releases, imagining how you’d tease around. Or maybe you were inexperienced – now that thought gets him excited, it leads his fantasy into another direction. If he could have one night with you, he’d show you exactly what he likes and how he wants you to pleasure him. Maybe one night would turn into multiple nights, or entire weekends spent with him.

He lets out a shaky breath and presses on palm flat against the shower’s tile wall, bowing his head, lips parted with gentle, breathy moans escaping them – but both the sounds of the rainstorm and the shower drown them out.

A murky idea of what you look like naked and wet in the shower is hot on his mind. He rolls his thumb over the tip of his cock, leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles. His shaft’s gotten all lathered up, the sound of squelching barely reaching his ears. It makes him think of how you’d sound when he’s pumping his cock inside of you.

Would you be able to take it all? He looks down at it and contemplates that. How tight would you be? Would he cum boyishly soon if he sunk inside your gummy walls? If he went faster like this, would you become a mess underneath him? Would you want him to cum inside?

He’s a simple man when he’s so close to orgasming right there in his shower, the image of you taking his creampie makes him orgasm.

There’s a gentle rumble of thunder that covers up a loud moan that escapes his throat. He’s never moaned like that before. And he’s never cum so hard before, either – usually it’s a few watery shots of cum, not thick white ropes like this.

Does he feel guilty when cleaning his cum up the shower wall? A little bit.

“Damn it…” he mutters disappointedly.

⚠️ smut scene over

When he wraps a towel around his waist and looks into the mirror at his long hair, he wonders how you ever thought he looked approachable. If anything, he looked intimidating and cold.

That long shower fantasy of you only temporarily sates his mind. Letting his body fall into his bed with a soft thump, he sinks into the mattress. He rolled onto his side and started thinking of you again. This time, he replays everything that happened in those two hours at the café. He replays parts of the conversation like it was his favorite movie, until he fell asleep.

“You’re very alluring.” He thought of those words you said to him.

A subtle smile tugged at his lips.

***

Days pass. Suguru purposefully strides past the café and takes a glimpse into the windows to check if you’re there. When you’re not, he frowns and keeps walking. When you are, his eyes light up ever so slightly and his feet seem to carry him over to you – even though his mind screams at him to stop. This is madness. You’re supposed to be the very thing he hates, but he can’t bring himself to.

Because you’re dreamy. Or at least that’s the effect you have on him.

Each time he sees you at the café, he realizes more and more how weak and clumsy you are. Slowly, those traits become endearing to him. It irks him to feel this growing compulsion to protect you.

The tide of his mind completely turns over when he walks you home one day. A little curse had been clinging to your arm, cruelly giggling with its morbid little face.

How dare you? He eyes it out and watches you obliviously massage your arm, trying to alleviate the tension.

Suguru could have made two possible decisions; exorcise it or leave it. In other words, turn back on his beliefs or recede back into them completely, never to reemerge.

You massage your arm again, and at the moment you turn away from your apartment’s door, Suguru engulfs you in a very random, very soft hug. Widening your eyes, you’re unsure how to reciprocate for a moment. You hear him swallow.

Oh, is he nervous to be hugging me? Does he have a boyish crush on me? That’s unexpected of a mature man like him.

That’s what you’re obliviously thinking.

Suguru stifles a sigh. Part of him wishes you never hugged him back. But he can’t deny the rush he feels through his veins. Your warm, embrace is something he never knew he needed so badly until he got it.

That moment sets him on fire, he feels electric when he walks back home.

“Damn it…” he mutters with a small smirk playing at his lips – one that’s very similar to how he used to smirk with Satoru.

***

Months pass, and you start regularly visiting each other’s apartments. Tokyo is cramped, the word spacious never crosses your mind when you walk into someone else’s home. But Suguru’s apartment felt smaller than the others, because he had two balls of energy running around like chaotic demons. Lovably chaotic demons. Two twin girls, they’re celebrating their fifth birthday and you’re in the kitchen with Suguru baking a cake for them. It was your idea. And though you had to practically drag Suguru by the arm to get him to bake a cake, he was very willing to help out.

Nanako keeps trying to spook you, and you pretend to die of a heart attack – it makes her giggle. Mimiko pretends to be a spider crawling up your back, you also pretend to be scared – and she responds with a cheeky “I’m not actually a spider, I fooled you!”

“Girls, please give Y/n and I some alone time.” Suguru tells them after they become a bit much. Adults can only deal with so much, some relaxation is eagerly sought after.

“Is Y/n gonna be our mommy?” Nanako asks before leaving the kitchen. Her and Mimiko both look at you two expectantly.

Suguru is completely caught off guard by this question, but you laugh.

“Let us be, Nanako.” He speaks without composure, so shaken up and embarrassed. When was the last time he blushed to boyishly?

The twins scamper out the kitchen and into their own little kid’s world, roaming the house as if it was full of secrets they had to discover.

“Sorry, they’re quite outspoken for their ages.” Suguru refuses to look at you anymore, his heart is thumping in his chest. What if you wanted to be their mom? It’s a cute thought that occupies his mind as he talks to you.

“They’re the sweetest.” You sigh adoringly, “Really, the sweetest. It reminds me, had a friend once who ran a kindergarten, and I stood in for her one spring while she was on sick leave. There was this very sweet little boy who followed me around like a puppy. Working there for a little while made me realize how much I want to have kids and a family.” You talk while mixing ingredients into a bowl, stirring up the batter until it’s creamy and smooth.

Suguru’s listening attentively. He’s watching your gentle movements interestedly. Were you gentler in his presence? He wonders what you’re like when you’re annoyed. When you wake up, how cute is your bleary-eyed face?

“You’re good with kids.” Suguru compliments.

“Thank you.” You smile a bit bashfully. “Though, now that I think about it, there was also this kid at that kindergarten that would try to bite me all the time. An absolute menace.”

Suguru lets out a laughing breath through his nose.

“Yeah, Nanako has tried to bite Mimiko many times. The first time it happened, she screamed herself blue and I had absolutely no idea what to do.” Suguru spoke, “By the way, d’you need help – ? M’kay, if you say so. I’m right here. Anyways… she bit her so hard it left a bite mark.”

“Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about, alright. That sucker left a bite mark on my thigh – I’ve still got the scar.” You tell him.

Suguru’s mind lights up when you so flippantly mention your thigh. He can’t help himself. He’s starting to want more, his whole body craves proximity – that’s why, while you put the cake in the oven, he discretely inches closer to where you stand. Arms crossed over his broad chest, hair up in a neat bun – he only realized just then how you have such a positive effect on him. He hadn’t put such deep care into his appearance since before…

“Suguru? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. Just thinking.”

“You must have a lot to be thinking about. Your face looks so severe… I want to knead out the severity.” You tease.

He loves the way you speak. He loves the subtle playful teasing you do every now and then, it shows him that you’re getting comfortable around him like he is around you.

“Sorry. I’m just a brooding type.” He smirks at you, shifting his body so that he leans comfortably against the counter.

“What are you brooding on?” you ask him curiously.

It makes his heart lurch that you care, that you’re genuinely curious about what’s going on behind those abyssal black eyes of his.

“I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

“You won’t bring down the mood. What’s on your mind? I’m not the best at advice… in fact I’m shit, but I’m a good listener… so indulge me.” You encourage him, attempting to hop up on the kitchen countertop to sit comfortably.

His heart feels stabbed and twisted all of a sudden. But he smirks, sees you struggling to climb a countertop, and comes to help you. Big hands grab at the back of your thighs as he leans down, cheek brushing with your cheek for a moment, before he hoists you up himself.

“Thank you.” You smile at him, veiling your nervousness.

His body feels hotter after he pulls away. But he acts coolly, resuming his nonchalant pose of leaning against the countertop with crossed arms.

“I fell out with an old friend.” He begins simply. It’s laughable, saying that out loud – you have no idea of the severity, of the drama. “We were like yin and yang.” He desperately tries to add a layer of depth to give you a better picture.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” you inquire.

Suguru thinks back on that day. “Yeah. We had a disagreement. And… I think… I’ve finally started to regret walking away from him.” He admits.

That admittance unexpectedly makes his throat constrict and his eyes line with tears. He blinks them away quickly.

“Why did you walk away?” you tilt your head.

I wonder what she’d think if I told her every detail.

“We have differing beliefs about… something. I can’t describe it sensibly to you.”

You look at him interestedly. “Beliefs? Like about religion?”

“I guess kind of like that…? Not religion, but something as serious as that.”

“If you regret walking away from him,” you begin, speaking your train of thought, “why don’t you come back to him and tell him that? Or would that be a bad idea? I don’t know… it just seems like you miss whoever this person is.”

You render him speechless and he looks at you like you just unravelled a secret part of him that no one had seen before.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I think I’ll… uh, give him a call sometime and see him for coffee.” Suguru says decidedly.

Was he really going to do that? Before meeting you, he couldn’t fathom facing Satoru again. It was a mortifying idea. He crushed his best friend’s spirit, how could he face him again?

“Sounds good… you could meet him at the café we go to.” You say.

Suguru’s half lost in thought and staring at the kitchen floor tiles. “Yeah… hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Absolutely.”

He chokes up a bit, darting his eyes around, as if searching carefully for his words. When he looks at you, he completely forgets what he was going to ask. His heart is beating like he was just about to confess to his high school sweetheart.

Suguru takes a deep inhale.

“I think the cake is burning.”

“Oh shit!”

***

Satoru scoffs bitterly over his beverage.

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

A pair of striking blue eyes meet abyssal black ones.

“What changed your mind...?” Satoru comments in a softer tone after hearing his old friend call his name so tenderly.

“Something good happened.” Suguru subtly smiles, the memory of meeting you in this same café flashing across his mind.

A silence comes over them, and slowly the tension works out of their air, an understanding replacing it.

“Maybe we are supposed to protect them, after all… damn monkeys, look at ‘em so helpless.” Suguru chuckles, half-joking as he watches a baby start to cry in its mothers arms on the street outside.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓��� 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[permanentswaps]

A Second Lease - The Wedding

See the original from @mrwavellswaps here. Its probably my favorite story ever.

Five years had passed since I made the decision to seal myself into my son's body permanently. And let me tell you, it's been nothing short of ecstasy. Today, as I stand here in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. It's my wedding day, and I'm about to marry the love of my life, Sean.

As I straighten my tie, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I can't help but pause and appreciate the sight. I turn slightly, flexing my biceps, admiring the sculpted physique that now defines me. The reflection staring back at me is a testament to the transformation I've undergone. This body, once my son's, now mine, is a masterpiece – sculpted muscles, flawless skin, and a confidence that radiates from every pore.

With a smirk, I run my hands over my chest, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath my fingertips. I lift my shirt slightly, revealing the chiseled abs that now adorn my torso. It's a sight to behold, one that fills me with pride and satisfaction.

"You're looking good, Jay," I say to myself, unable to tear my gaze away from the mirror. I straighten my shirt and adjust my collar, feeling a surge of excitement as I prepare to embark on this new chapter of my life. Today is not just about marrying Sean; it's about celebrating the journey that has brought me to this moment.

There hasn't been a single day where I haven't felt thankful for the choice I made. I can still vividly remember the day I proposed to Sean. We were hiking in the mountains, surrounded by breathtaking views. I got down on one knee, my heart pounding with nervous excitement, and asked him to spend the rest of his life with me. The look of joy on his face as he said yes will forever be etched in my memory.

Meanwhile, my dad's life hasn't been as rosy as mine. Every month that went by, he still went back to the woods, hoping against hope that he can reverse the swap. I can't say I blame him. After all, since I've been in control, this body has only gotten better. But unfortunately for him, no matter how many times he threw coins into that mystical well, it still never worked.

As the years went on, I noticed he began to look older than before. Whereas I kept my hair neat and trimmed and – in my eyes – quite youthful, he let himself go a bit. His long hair was still handsome, but definitely aged him up.

As he struggled to hold onto his youth, I eventually succumbed to a bit of guilt and couldn't keep the truth from him any longer. I came clean about what happened – about how I made that wish and sealed our fates. And let's just say, he didn't take it well.

"I made the choice that was best for me, Dad. It's time you accepted it," I stated firmly.

He stormed off, cursing me as he walked. "This is how you fucking repay me?" he shouted. "And why does that make any sense? Even if you wanted to keep my body forever, why would you make it so that the well wouldn’t work on me anymore?"

You might be asking yourself the same question. Why did I make both our bodies impervious to magic? Well, to be honest, I needed to ensure that I would be the only Jay – no other versions to detract from the attention. Nobody to take away the perfect life that I was living. And someone to stand in my place, so people wouldn't make my life a hassle coming and asking what happened to my dad.

Looking back, I can't help but acknowledge the brilliance of my decision. I mean, come on, look at me – I'm hot, young, and irresistible. But I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to let myself keep this version of it forever. But hey, I still look amazing, and that's not changing anytime soon.

As for my dad, he refused to come to the wedding. I'm not surprised, really. Ever since I came clean about what happened, our relationship has been strained, to say the least. But you know what? It's no bother. Because at the end of the day, Sean is all I need.

As I stand in front of the mirror, lost in my thoughts, the sound of the door creaking open breaks the silence. Sean's presence behind me is electric, his hungry smirk sending a jolt of anticipation through my body. As he wraps his arms around my waist, I can't help but smile, feeling his warmth against my skin.

"You clean up well, babe," Sean's voice is like velvet, low and husky. His fingers trace along the contours of my chest, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth of his breath against my ear sends a thrill through me as he whispers, "But you know what would make this look even better?"

Before I can respond, our lips meet in a fiery, passionate kiss, igniting a blaze of desire between us. With a teasing tug, Sean rips off my shirt, leaving only the tie around my neck. "You're one sexy hunk," he murmurs, his gaze filled with hunger as he takes in my exposed chest.

Moving towards the bed, Sean takes hold of the tie, using it as a leash to guide me, a silent command that I'm more than willing to follow. As he lines up his cock against my eager hole, I can't help but marvel at his size, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"You've been putting in extra hours at the gym, babe," Sean chuckles sexily, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "I can tell."

He keeps pounding me. Its so good I can hardly stand it.

"God, Jay," Sean gasps, his voice strained with pleasure, "you feel so good."

Hearing him use that name, Jay, ignites a fire within me, fueling my desire as I flex my muscles, showing off for him.

As our passion builds, reaching its peak, we both find release our massive loads together, our bodies moving in perfect harmony as waves of ecstasy wash over us. In the aftermath, Sean's fingers trace patterns across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You're amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with reverence and adoration.

As Sean puts his shirt back on, I can't help but voice my concern about staining it. But he just chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't worry, babe," he reassures me, "it'll dry. And then, when we're on the altar and dancing the night away, it'll be our sexy little secret."

Later, as we stand at the altar, preparing to exchange our vows, my mind drifts back to our passionate encounter. Aside from being extremely horny for him, I also feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and happiness that Sean brings into my life. Becoming Jay and making his life my own was definitely the right decision. And as Sean and I embark on this new chapter together, I'm ready for whatever lies ahead.

[mistress-amidala]

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

❛ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ❜

PAIRINGS: Unburnt Vader x Rebel reader SYNOPSIS: You go on undercover mission as an Imperial, catching the eye of none other than the infamous sith lord, Lord Vader. One of your most notorious enemies, it's a good thing he knows you by your alias. Not by your face. For now at least... WARNINGS: Deceit, smut, swearing... NOTES: This is my first time writing smut so it is by no means a masterpiece. But I hope you like it. This Vader x rebel reader series I read ages ago inspired me to write my own. I can’t find it but if you know what I’m talking about please let me know.

「 You 」

Three years working for the Rebellion, and not once could I have pictured ending up… here.

Bent over, on the desk of Lord Vader. Yes, Lord Vader. Darth Vader, the Emperor’s apprentice. My breath came out shaky. No surprise considering I was being practically impaled by Darth Vader’s cock. Moan after moan tumbled from my lips, my jaw gone slack from my seemingly unending cries of pleasure. My fingers clutched the end of the table like my life depended on it. As it creaked from his unrelenting thrusts, his hips meeting mine. The slapping of skin echoed through the room, followed by his loud grunts and occasional whimpers. His soft yet calloused hands gripped my hips like a vice. My body rocking into the desk with each thrust, his cock stretching me out. It felt like he was about to split me in half, “doing so well for me sweetheart.” He grunts in between sharp thrusts. “Fuck…” He mumbles breathlessly, I could feel his length throbbing inside me. Looking down, I see his balls swinging with each thrust. The warm skin of his palm rubbing my back, “like what you see princess.” Reaching his remaining hand on your hip to your clit. Rubbing circles on the sensitive nub making me jolt. Letting out another moan, “mmm… You like that don’t you sweetheart?” He asks rhetorically, giving another sharp thrust. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, my pussy clenching around his length. As my orgasm hits, cumming all over his cock.

He didn’t relent, continuing to forcefully thrust into me without fail. His cock drilling my cum back into me as he threw his head back. Moaning without shame, “f-fuck sweetheart.” He stutters and I feel his hips tremble as I whine in overstimulation. The tip of his cock kissing my cervix as his breath hitches, his hips jolt forward. Followed by the release of his warm seed, painting my insides white. He collapses forward onto me. His skin sweaty and his weight pinning me to the desk. As he gives a few more slow ruts, a soft whimper escaping him. “Mmm… think I’m gonna have to keep you all to myself.” He whispers, kissing in between my shoulder blades. Stilling his thrusts, running his warm hands up and down my sides gently in a soothing motion. “Hmm? Make you my little Empress, would you like that sweetheart?” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Planting soft kisses along the skin there as I caught my breath. “Bet you would…” He whispers, nibbling on my earlobe. “Could have everything you’ve ever dreamed, princess.” Giving my waist a gentle squeeze, “all you’d have to do is warm my bed darling. Have you on your back, taking my cock like a good girl…” He kisses the soft skin behind my ear, making me whimper. “Oh don’t be afraid darling, I’ll take such good care of you.” He whisper sweetly, gently prying my hands off the edge of the table. Rubbing the skin of my knuckles with his thumbs, releasing all the tension.

Intertwining our fingers, his thumbs stroking the back of my hands. He lets out a sigh, his warm breath hitting my neck. Goosebumps forming in its wake. He rests his chin on my shoulder, “how you feeling my sweet girl?” He asks softly, releasing one of my hands to gently brush the hair out of my face. Making me smile softly, oh maker. I nod slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’m okay…” He chuckles softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. While brushing his fingertips along the skin of my cheek, ever so lightly. As if I’d break if he was any rougher, “yeah? You took me so well sweetheart. So proud…” He gives my shoulder a gentle kiss, I could feel his cock softening slightly. “M’gonna-” He gets cut off my his commlink going off. He groans in annoyance, giving my shoulder another kiss. Before pivoting his head to the side. Picking it up from his desk, smirking slightly at the mess we’d made. I watch him roll his eyes, answering. “What?” He asks bluntly, the annoyance at being disturbed clear in his voice. A sheepish voice responds, clearly picking up on his irritation. “I’m sorry to disturb you My Lord, but the Emperor has personally requested your presence at our current meeti-” I hear him growl softly, the vibrations from his chest travelled into my own. Making me shiver slightly, he noticed. His hand on my cheek travelled back to my waist. Rubbing soft circles comfortingly, “I’ll be there.” He responded shortly, before crushing the commlink. Letting the pieces fall to the floor. He let out a sigh, dropping his head down. His forehead resting on my upper back. Nuzzling into it softly, he reminded me of a puppy. This was the almighty Darth Vader? Surely there has been some sort of mix up? “M’sorry sweetheart, I have to go.” He said softly, his voice just above a whisper. His hand on my waist travels up. Cradling the back of my head, turning it to the side gently. So his lips could meet mine, his kiss was surprisingly soft. All traces of previous annoyance had disappeared. Like footprints being washed away by the sea.

He intertwined our fingers again, giving my hand another gentle squeeze. I could feel him smiling into the kiss. Before he pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against the side of my head. He pulled off me a little. His weight no longer pinning me to the desk, but I could still feel a light layer of his sweat coating my back. He gently flips me onto my back, I wince slightly at the change in angles. Watching as his brows furrowed slightly at the stimulation. He leans back on top of me, his weight now pressing again my front. Chest to chest, I felt my nipples hardening again at the contact. He clearly felt it too as I saw a smirk tugging at his lips… His gorgeous, soft, plump lips… Stop that. He brought both hands up to my face, cupping it softly. Pressing his forehead against mine. Our noses brushing against each other. “You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his eyes searching mine. For something I wasn’t quite sure, was he actually worried about me?

I chuckle softly, “I’m fine.” He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, flicking it gently. His eyes were fixated on my lips as he watched it snap back into place, while he ran his tongue along his own. Coating them in a thin layer of his saliva, the lights in the room reflecting off them.

“Don’t do that…” He whispers, causing me to furrow my brows.

“Don’t do what?” I ask curiously, tilting my head to the side.

Making him bite his lip softly in response, “don’t be so adorable.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” He lets out a puff of air mockingly in response.

Poking the tip of my nose softly, “cheeky little thing.”

I smile softly, “you should probably be getting to your meeting. Sounds… important.” I whisper, observing him. Seeing some of his curls stuck to his forehead from our… activities. I absentmindedly brush them back, out of his face. His eyes watching my movement. Now I noticed his cheeks flushed a pastel pink, from the sex? Or was he… nervous? No way, no surely not…

His gentle voice brings me from my thoughts, “important?” He hums, pressing his soft lips to my forehead. “Probably not,” his husky voice uttered. “Just incompetent imperials needing me to do their work for them.” He all but sighs out, my eyebrows furrowed slightly. And I brought my arms up slowly, wrapping them around his torso. Which felt way more tiresome that it should of, maker what has he done to me? My limbs felt completely useless, I feel him take a deep breath. His chest rising and his stomach pressing into mine. Which also pushed his hips to meet mine, gently thrusting his cock deeper into me. Making me let out a soft whine, as his breath hitches. “Fuck sorry sweetheart I forgot,” he mutters. I could practically feel the grin on his face, as he trails a hand down. Gently pressing on my lower stomach, feeling where he was inside me. Making me jolt, clinging to his back. “Mmm your so warm princess, don’t wanna leave.” He pats my lower stomach softly, I could feel our combined release running down my thighs. “Your pussy’s clenching me so tight, don’t think you want me to leave either… hmm?” I could feel his smirk against my forehead, I poke his ribs in response. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Your really not as funny as you think you are,” I retort. He lifts his lips off my forehead, looking down at me.

“Aren’t I?” He teases, licking his lips.

I shake my head, “nope-” He leans down, silencing me with a kiss. He sucks on my bottom lip softly, while his hands trail up to my breasts. Cupping them, his thumbs toying with my nipples. Making me moan softly into his mouth, my back arching slightly. I pull back a little, and he lets a soft sigh slip.

“I gotta go to work sweetheart,” he mumbles. The disdain at having to leave clear in his voice. I cup his cheek softly, and he leans into my touch.

I try to fight off a smile, “I know…” With one last kiss he reluctantly pulls away, running his fingers along my cheek. He places his other hand on my hip, steadying me.

He looks down at his cock, a grin on his face. He slowly pulls out, letting out a low hiss from the stimulation. He watches our cum leak out of me. Crouching down he holds my legs apart, placing a gently kiss on my pussy. Licking a strip, making me shiver in response. A moan escaping his lips before he stands back up. His naked form on full display as he looks for his discarded clothes. Littered along the floor of his office.

He yanks his boxers and pants back up his legs, tucking his spent cock back in place. Before bending over, picking up his shirt and robe. Damn he has a nice ass for a man. I shake my head, covering my mouth with my hand. Get a grip. I look back to him and he was struggling to tie his robe, muttering curse words under his breath. I sit up slowly, trying to find my balance. “Here,” I offer. He looks up from the messy knot he made, walking back over. Standing in front of me he places his hands on my waist.

Resting his chin on top of my head, “thanks sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmur. Finish tying up his robe, “is it too tight?” I ask, looking up slightly. He shakes his head, cupping the back of mine.

“No it’s good,” he runs his fingers through my hair softly. I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he spoke. His other hand trail down my back to my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Before he removes his hand off my ass, scribbling something down on a sticky note. He pulls back to look into my eyes, keeping his hand in my hair. Brushing it softly, his eyes were blue… Weren’t they supposed to be yellow? “What is it?” He asks curiously, I must not of being doing a good job at hiding my confusion.

“Your eyes…” I mutter, before mine drift to something I had yet to notice.

“Oh yes the yellow can be… unnerving.” He whispers the last part, almost as if he was ashamed.

I shake my head, “no that’s not what I meant…” I paused, and he seemed to perk up slightly at my response. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing when I see my name on a board behind him. A board of the… rebellion. Oh shit this is bad. “Little Minx?” I raise a brow, he immediately broke out into a grin. Looking behind him, to see the board I was staring at.

“Long story…” He turns back to face me, cupping my jaw gently. “My private chambers are just down the hall if you need anything,” he slides the sticky note to me. With the code to his chambers on it, “if anyone gives you any trouble just tell them I sent you.”

He leans closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. Longer for a moment, breathing me in. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, make yourself comfortable.” He pulls away slowly, as if he was reluctant to. He releases his gentle grip on my jaw, to smooth down my hair. Before giving my ass a gentle pat, before heading to the door of his office. Using the force to open the door, show off. “I’ll be in conference room B if you need me darling. Try not to miss me too much,” he winks.

Heading out the door, shutting it behind him. I let out a sigh, “holy shit.” I mumble under my breath, rubbing my face to try to gather myself. I grip the edge of the desk I was currently on… naked. This was so not part of the plan. The plan! The files, I look around. Standing up on shaky legs, my knees buckling for a moment.

To be continued…

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai + @diariodefresa

[saiidahyunie]

your fear, is my poison and masterpiece

vampire!myoui mina x doctorstrange!reader (pt. 3 / finale!!!) || fluff, smut

synopsis: doctor strange is willing to save a life, but it's you who has to face mina’s love, regrets, and pains.

warnings: blood ; violence ; use of guns ; unhinged reader, unhinged mina ; major character death ; past stories being shared ; little angst ; biting ; choking ; blood play?overstimulation ; little degrading ; slight bondage ; praise ; not proofread ; smut!!!!!

a/n: to @nr1chaedickrider @namojoon and @miinatozakiii, ty for waiting and for being my biggest supporters of this series!!

pt.1 pt.2

mina’s brain is flowing in and out of consciousness, she can’t force herself to wake up no matter how hard she tries. 

the dream in her head switches to a singular mirror in the middle of the pitch blackness clouding her mind. she looks down to notice that she’s wearing white clothes before walking up to see her reflection, putting a hand against the glass feeling the coolness on her fingertips. 

mina steps in front of the glass, turning in every angle possible to examine the contours of her face, her expression stoic—behind every face there’s a mind that’s twisted by turmoil, and it’s no different with how she’s been in all of this. 

she looks down again at her hands and outfit to see the flashes of blood splattered all over before returning to normal, looking up again to see her reflection again now wearing the opposite color of black much like the clothes she wore when she came to see you. instead of it being simple and clean from the mirror, the rags were tattered and torn and her hair was all disheveled with scruffy dirt marks across her face. 

in a scare, mina steps back from the mirror, while her reflection is left unmoved, standing menacingly with her head at an angle. a sinister snicker is heard throughout the space as mina looks around the enclosed space before returning her look to the front. the reflection now gives her a smirk that makes mina question about this being in front of her. 

“you’re not real, you’re not real!” mina says to her reflection, psyching herself out of this supposed bad trick her mind is playing her. 

“on the contrary,” her reflection says with pride in her voice, “i’m afraid that it’s all too true for you to believe is it?” the sniding remark and tone is a lot more bashful as the mirror starts to warble in small waves. 

mina takes a step back, not letting the fright get to her once the mirror phases her reflection through like passing in water, standing her ground once face to face with her evil persona. 

having vampire powers was one thing, but having something taking possession of mina’s mind and body was something that scared her immensely. she has to fight. she has to, or else—

“i wonder why you’re thinking about your loved ones so much.” her other persona stops her train of thought, “did you forget what you did or do you want me to remind you of what you’ve become?” 

“stop, you know that you’re the one who took control that night,” mina tries to retaliate, “all those people killed–i can’t even go back to my family anymore! you ruined my life!” 

her other persona laughs, evilly. 

“you poor thing, such a shame to not embrace the gift that was given to you.” her other persona starts, “don’t you see the potential in your power if you just let me guide you on the right path?!” 

“i never wanted this to begin with! just let me fix this myself, please.” mina pleads, clutching on her villainous version, breaking down as soft sobs are heard echoing off in the chamber of her mind. 

“then you know what you need to do. what we have to do…” mina looks up at herself, surrendering to the notion that’s being said. “i wonder what look you would have if we also killed y/n along with—” 

“you wouldn’t dare.” 

“so do as i say, and maybe i’ll consider sparing her alongside you, once i have what i want.” 

the evil persona then rises above, rightfully taking her position while all that mina could do was helplessly look up before her evil persona then snaps her fingers flashing mina’s consciousness completely blank. 

soft sounds of voices are heard, and mina is able to open her eyes just slightly. she couldn’t see much but two silhouettes of people looking over her, the hint of orange light surrounding her also hindering any more clarity for her to see who was who. 

a doze here and there, but mina’s ears picked up everything. 

“you’re talking about performing a spell that can lobotomize someone without even knowing if they’ll be alive by the end of it?” 

“better than resorting to an exorcism ritual to get an ancient vampire spirit out of a human being. i’m considering all of our options here.” 

mina remembers the sound of your voice. it was faint and on edge, but the fact that you were doing everything that you can to help her was all but reassuring as she shifts under the covers. you and wong look over to see the last second of movement before longing your look at mina’s slumber state. 

“this is a bad idea y/n, and the last thing we want is for your girlfriend to be tangled up in the worst case scenario.” wong says while flashing a look at you, closing the floating book in front of your head with both of his hands. 

“she’s not my girlfriend for god’s sake! just keep searching and let me know when you find anything.” you retort to a grunting wong who’s stomping away muttering out curses before the door to your room shuts behind him, leaving you and mina alone since that night she came to visit you. 

you scan the spellbook that you were holding off to the side, skimming through the outdated texts and sketches that showed the channeling of power in order to cast. closing the book right after and shaking your head finding nothing to help point the solution in the right direction, you look at the orange bubble that mina was under in your bed that you set as a precaution. in case you were able to fully determine if mina was in control or the evil entity. 

circling around the spacious queen size bed, you’re at mina’s bedside watching her peacefully sleeping. a solemn look is struck in your face, the heartstrings within you tugging at the thought of not being able to help—especially the person that has literally turned your world upside down so fast. 

with a wave of your hand, the orange bubble around mina’s sleeping body dissolves for you to get a closer look. watching over her like a protective guardian as a sudden thought pops in your head that makes you turn away at the sudden sound of a faint voice, like you were calling out for help. 

a vision flashed in your head of you being pinned on the ground by mina on top moaning in your ear, the heat growing between you two as she locked her gaze on you with half-lidded eyes. you shake your head at the thought but can’t help but think about it for a quick second before listening to mina’s labored breaths while sleeping.  

you then knelt at mina’s side of your bed, holding her hand and examining every line on her face with so much careful observation, you’re also trying to fight the urge within you to place a kiss while you stroke her head, tears welling up but not falling from your eyes as she shifts slightly from your touch. 

“i’ll keep trying.” you mutter, “i will do anything and everything that i can to make sure we get through this, together.” 

when mina wakes up again, she feels a little out of it but at the same time refreshed, like she hasn’t had that kind of beauty sleep in weeks. 

her eyes flutter open to a different setting, from the very regal, majestic bed with an overhanging frame in your room from the sanctum sanctorum to a hospital bed (your hospital actually) all snuggled up properly with her head and one arm the only thing sticking out from the covers. 

she looks around the unfamiliar sight of the room with the only sound coming from the low hum of the humidifier at the table next to her as she shifts to sit up a little. looking at her right hand to see a clip attached to her pointer finger that was connected to the monitor keeping track of her heartbeat on her left side of the bed before rubbing her eyes to get rid of the sleepiness. 

“you’re finally up.” 

mina turns to see you off in the corner of the room sitting on a chair with your butt almost hanging off the seat, letting the lanky legs almost be parallel to the floor with your head tilted off to the side. you’re giving her this soft look, a loving gaze with the warmest smile that makes mina’s eyes widen at how you currently looked. 

a cropped puffer jacket with both hands in the pockets sits really well along with your long dress pants that really elongate your legs as you cross them over, still not moving your upper body whatsoever as you inhale with your head falling back. mina is left in awe with how your homey style when she came to see you switch up so fast with how dashing you were with casual wear, clear to say that you could’ve been a model for fendi or any high fashion brand, but that wasn’t in your department up until recently. 

you seem relaxed and well rested (or it could be the foundation you put on to hide your eyebags -which there were none-) and it seems like you were just trying to live normally as best as you could without all of the business of being a neurosurgeon or sorcerer supreme. superheroes need their breaks every now and then right? 

mina can’t help but stare blatantly, and she’s trying to figure out how long it’s been since she came to see you. she felt bad about bringing her problem to you in the first place and wants to set things right, all she ever wanted really was to be set free from the clutches of her family and be her own person, the aspirations she had for her life that she wanted to live, but at every turn of attempts, there was always someone to stop her and she hated that. 

you stretched out the lasting bits of tension from your aching body, legs rising off the ground before crossing them over again while you rub your knuckles through the pockets of your jacket. “is there something on my outfit or are you just gonna stare into my soul?” 

mina looks away coyly from your question, hiding the blush that’s hinted on her cheeks. you can’t help but chuckle at the wave of her hair falling onto one side hiding her face. 

“how long was i out?” she asks while turning back to you. 

“about three days.” 

mina furrows her brows at the amount of time that has passed since that night, but can’t help to ask more questions. “what did i do to get here?” 

you lean forward with your butt on the seat now, pulling your arms up and out over your knees to a more serious manner. “i brought you here. don’t worry, it was under wraps.” you answer. “we actually keep this level for more severe patients but you’re in one of the spare rooms that weren’t occupied.” 

“god, this is all a mess.” 

“believe me, i’ve dealt with worse.” you huff out, the tired tone in your voice clearly breaking through as a knock was heard on the door. cristina flashes her head in through the crack before coming in quietly with a tray full of today’s breakfast that was being served to the patients below. 

“nobody has noticed right?” you ask cristina, taking the two trays of food from her as she peeps through blinds to check if she was followed. “i’m actually surprised that no one asked about where you were going.”

“they just assumed that i’m taking extra food trays up for some of the peeps that are in the icu rooms, but yeah no one has said anything yet.” 

“do you think it’s okay for a few friends to visit up here?” 

“y/n, if word gets out that you’re keeping a potential criminal—” 

you hush cristina, nicking your head off to the side at mina who has a blank expression on her face when her name was mentioned, biting your inner cheek defending your crush with everything that you can. mina is not a criminal, and you were going to do any means necessary to help her clear her name. 

“sorry.” cristina mutters, “i know she means a lot to you, but you’d be coming under fire for this also when you’re supposed to be on temporary leave.” 

“i can deal with all of that later, they need my work and mind anyway so they can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

comforting cristina with your hands on her shoulders, you guide her out the door into the less bustling hallway, giving a word to be on the lookout in trade for letting in a few select guests courtesy of you, but it would only be a matter of time for the police and news outlets to swarm the front foyer of the hospital if someone speaks. 

“say ahhhh….” 

you say with your parted mouth while feeding mina a spoonful of scrambled egg that leaves her giving you a gummy smile with how you look like you’re babying a child. 

mina can’t help herself with how cute you’re looking while taking care of her, so she opens her mouth for the spoon, humming at the taste once you pull back to get yourself a bite, wiping your mouth with a nearby napkin. 

“i can eat just fine y/n, you don’t have to do all this.” mina says, covering her mouth while chewing. 

“but i want to, so eat.” 

mina listens, swallowing the food down while you’re getting another scoop of egg from the bottom of the container, hovering the spoon over to mina again with a hand under it to prevent it from falling. “don’t make me say here comes the airplane—” 

“stop,” mina replies, opening her mouth for the spoon as you fed her again, putting the utensil on the tray with the breakfast meal now completely eaten. “thank you, it’s nice that you’re taking the time to help and take care of me.” she says, sighing while running her fingers against each other on her lap, looking down in a slight embarrassment. 

you hum, “you came to me, so i’m not resting until i can find a solid solution to your problem mina.” 

“but you should.” 

“and i won’t.” 

mina lets out a chuckle, “were you always the stubborn type? that’s not really your style to go by when impressing someone.” 

“it’s working on you, and it still is.” you beam, “after all, who saved you from that one man who tried to get up all in your bubble at the gala?” 

“okay, okay.” mina surrenders, “you do have a point with that one.” she says, holding her hands up in defeat, setting them down after. you smile at the slight bit of playfulness on her face and in her tone, reaching over to clasp her hand lightly, prompting a sense of comfort that makes mina blush a bit from the touch of your hand. 

you run your finger over the ridges of her knuckles, before pulling away with your hand going back into your puffer pocket, leaning back into the seat to relax considering that you’ve been keeping a close eye on mina for the entirety of the three days and nights (which meant that your sleep schedule was extremely fucked up) graveyard shifts were always normal when working, but this was the first instance in a while where your own mind was tormenting under the stress and constant disarray of questions that was pounding around in your head keeping you awake.

there’s still a lot to uncover here; the supposed curse set on mina, the whole mystery with the myoui family as a whole, what did mina’s dad have a role to play in, how were you going to clear mina’s name to the chief and jihyo, and not even forgetting about the small urge that’s tempting you from within whenever you set your eyes on mina—it’s not that noticeable for you to catch, but it feels like there’s a second thought, much like a voice telling you something otherwise. 

you were one of the strongest beings of the universe, the guardian of the magic arts, the one who left everything behind in order to save your own mind and body from destroying itself. this isn’t any different, but this is mina you’re trying to protect and save here, and you can’t help but think about the possible failures that could happen-

“y/n…” 

it’s still fresh in your mind, the look on your sister’s face in the car as it tumbled down the hill on the way to the special hearing event that night, the last moments before everything went blank as you hit the water—

“y/n.” 

the pain was too much to bear, every fiber in your bone and muscle aching when you dragged the lifeless corpse out of the car—hands destroyed and riddled with blood and metal shrapnels  s you cried your heart out waiting for the light of the helicopter to shine down on you, feet away from the wreckage. flashes of the lifeless body in your sister, the same thought happened with mina in your arms from that one dream or vision. you couldn’t save your sister, would the same outcome of fate happen with mina if you failed again—

“y/n!” 

snapped out in a trance, you’re staring at mina again, her eyes piercing through yours. like the smart girl that she is, your look gave it away that something was wrong. you inhale sharply, stretching out the limbs in your body like before when mina first came about from her slumber. you sit up, running a hand through your face to wipe off the tired look before you feel mina’s hand on your arm. 

“are you okay?” she asks, “you blanked out for a few seconds, and you were almost crying?!” 

“was i?” you say, nodding to answer her question before scratching the back of your neck to keep your body moving. “sorry…i just have.. .a lot on my mind…that’s all.” 

mina tilts her head out of sympathy, pressing her lips inward at you looking distressed, anxious. she’s never seen you this on edge before, let alone like you’ve lost a bit of color on your face or the light dimming in your eyes. 

“y/n.” mina says for the fourth time in a short span. you turn your attention to her. she sat a little bit higher due to the elevated hospital bed, making you slightly look up, but with those golden retriever eyes of yours, she lets out a needed smile at how soft you’ve become for her, and it’s the reassuring part about you that she really likes. “i wanted to ask you a question again.” 

“what’s on your mind?” you say, leaning forward, elbows on the edge of the bed and fist holding up your head, gazing at mina’s bare face and the pretty details around it. “you can always tell me without asking.” 

“why do you save lives?” she asks, and again the flashbacks are flooding in. 

blinking, lost and entranced, you’re snapped back with a rough exhale before scooting your chair closer to mina, lowering your head which prompted her to place her hand on the back of it to ease your troubles while you placed your flat palm on top of your shoulder where her hand was, giving a look of reassurance that you were okay to some extent. 

“well, i—” 

“let me rephrase,” she interrupts, “why are you the person you are today?” 

the question is internalized from your ears, your hands are between your legs clasped, you’re looking out the window that’s nothing but gray setting the dull mood throughout the room/ 

“i became who i am…” you begin, “because it was the only way out for me.” 

mina stares with the silence beating in, you’re looking downward at the sheets where mina’s legs are at, clutching your wrist at the pain you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long—

“i used to be like you; hard working, got everything that i ever wanted and more.” you answer, looking at her with a wistful gaze in your eyes. “all of that changed in a flash because of a silly mistake that cost everything.” 

“what happened?” 

clenching teeth, the memory just feels like yesterday post-op—the aftereffects of the concussion, the countless rods nailed into the bones of your hands suspended above your body like a zombie, and the daunting notion that you were the sole survivor, and all five stages of grief was the only resolve in your mind. 

“i was invited to an event. brought my sister as a plus one who wanted to attend these special gatherings. we were on the way there when there was a crash.” you say, staring out the window with the sounds from the car that night faintly going through your head. “we got blindsided by some other driver on the opposite end, sending our car tumbling down the hill to the ocean below.” 

mina is appalled by this, and you have only told a few people outside of the hospital circle about your accident, it still traumatized you to this day. you kept your heart and terrific mind, but your hands and not to mention—

“i fought everything that my body was forcing on me, getting out of a flooded car with completely destroyed hands, dragging my sister’s body to the shore. i couldn’t save her in the end.” you add on, dipping your head at the thought before mina’s hand finds your shoulder again. you look at her with tears welling, you’ve never shown this side of you to anybody since the accident, but mina understood—and her comfort was definitely all the more reassuring. 

“i may not have had the same luxury like you, but—” 

“y/n, that doesn’t matter, keep going.” she orders. 

“right,” you mutter, fixing yourself up in your chair. “after the accident, i pooled everything that i could into fixing my hands, and it burned bridges with some of the closest people that turned their backs on me because of my greedy arrogance, to fix something, make me feel better again.” 

it’s a shock to mina. this revelation. you were the same as her (to some extent), but she can relate to your life story the more you shared. 

“i did everything i could, but it brought me to the doors of a temple, a new world and…it saved my life.” 

“y/n.” mina says. “i didn’t know—” 

“it’s okay.” you answer. “if it weren’t for that one way ticket in a last ditch effort, i wouldn’t be where i am today.” you bring your hands up to show her. they looked better with time, but the fading scars were still present as well as the lingering shaking, but you’ve healed; moved on further from that phase of your life, and here you are.

“i used to think that my life was the only thing that mattered.” you say to mina, clasping her hand at the side of her leg, looking at her with a soft smile. “but people like you have shown me so much more, and maybe some lives are worth saving than my own.” 

“sorry, i shouldn’t have—” 

mina tries to say, but your lips were suddenly pressed against hers. the initial contact is gentle enough to knock the wind out of the both of you under normal circumstances. time seems to slow down even more when you cup her face with your hands, and mina’s hand grabbing onto your wrist. the feeling and taste of her lips against your own that was the only thing on your mind right now. 

she’s the one to pull away first, grasping your hand lightly to stop as your eyes flutter open while retreating. 

“sorry.” now you’re the one apologizing. “too much?” 

mina giggles gently, her head in between your hands still, thumbs grazing her cheek lightly before lowering them. “didn’t know the magic doctor would have a soft spot for someone like me. it’s kinda cute.” 

you try to rebut, but mina’s lips swoop in for a quick peck before pulling away to have a better look at your surprise expression. she stares at you for a second, appreciating the hint of red spreading from the top part of your cheeks just under your eyes, tapping the beauty mark that’s alongside your jawline before wiping a wisp of lint that got stuck on your eyebrows with her thumb.

“shouldn’t you be working technically?” 

“well.” you respond. “i’m on leave actually, but i help advise some of the other specialists every now and then. you’re not trying to get rid of me are you?” 

“no, i’m not.” 

“don’t lie to me.” 

“i’m not!” 

“mhm.” 

you kept a close eye on mina at the hospital every now and then. tasking cristina to also check up on her with food as well as any other essential needs that she might ask. most of the other workers, including the ones that you usually talk with, didn't really seem to bat an eye or even ask what you were still doing in the hospital when you’re supposed to be on temporary leave (should be permanent since you’re a freaking superhero and saving lives in a different way). 

when you are not at your office finding solutions for mina, you’re spending most of your free time with her. watching movies, talking about magic spells and showing her, and even losing to her on mario kart since she requested to have a nintendo switch in her room (you couldn’t say no to that). it’d only been roughly about two to three weeks since the gala incident—maybe even longer since you were in a slight coma, but everything was against the clock now. 

one day, you took a break from looking at some brain scans, knocking at the door to mina’s room when you hear her faint voice prompting you to come in. swinging the door slightly open popping your head with a dumb smile, mina’s face lightens up with yours while you walk in. “sorry to keep you waiting minari. still did some reading and a few other things.” 

“i was wondering if you were gonna see me today.” she replies, “am i gonna be discharged anytime soon?” 

“as much as i love to take you home with me, police activity is still prominent in searching for you.” you reply, “the sanctum would be the ideal place, but you gave wong a scare with…” 

“right…” 

“but that was one of the things i wanted to ask you about, you’re essentially helping me a bit with this actually.” 

mina looks up as if her face says ‘me? you want help from me? the person with vampire powers helping the sorcerer supreme?’ 

“well, but how do expect me to—” 

“just listen to what i have to say.”

“okay…” 

mina’s attention is zeroed in on you sitting down like when she first woke up, hand on head with your elbow on the bed. “i’ve been looking at brain scans along with reading some psychiatric cases in between.” 

“what about it?”

“well, there could be a number of factors that can explain why, but i was able to narrow it down to maybe one or two things.” 

mina raises her hand up at you, signaling to stop, raising your eyebrow in curiosity at the sudden action while also shutting you up. 

“i’ve been thinking about this also, but i don’t know if it makes real sense.” 

“nothing is too crazy if you’re talking to me about supernatural stuff.” 

mina laughs, dipping her head down while you shake your head smiling. “okay but maybe you can try to answer this.” 

you look at her again, everything about mina was just ethereal about her. once again, you’re blushing slightly with the hints of flirting you’re casually dishing out. 

“you know how we have a conscience right? or like a second voice?” 

“yeah. or at least something to that degree.” you answer, leaning back in your chair.

“what if,” mina pauses with parted lips, “that second voice is real, like it's almost a different person.” 

“that could be plausible, but—”

would that really explain what you might be assuming? 

before mina could add on, a knock on the door is heard outside the room. the both of you look toward the sound interrupting your conversation, remembering that you asked to meet with this person to help you with finding the probable cause of solving mina’s case. 

“i completely forgot,” you say, “i asked someone to meet up with me around this time, but you’re onto something mina.” 

“really?” 

“well if what you’re saying is true, then maybe.” you reply “let me see first, stay here for me will ya?” 

“i’m not going anywhere.” she says, smiling. 

“good.” you say, leaning to give mina a quick peck before leaving the room to the hallway. once you were on your way out, mina hears a faint whisper in her head, her smile dropped to a more serious expression, and her eyes flashed red again. 

once the door closed from the outside, you notice that a woman was standing against the wall next to the window, wearing a layered dress shirt over a vest with an id clipped onto it.

“i was wondering if you were here or not.” the woman says to you, rubbing her eye for probably the nth time since she came to the hospital. 

“so you did look at my text nayeon.” you reply, standing in front of her while you wiped your lips from the remnants of mina’s lip gloss with your finger. “and i thought that you’d never leave your lab for something like this.” 

“well after i heard that jihyo gave you some insight with the case, i figured that you would also need my help with the files you pulled.”

“alright mrs. phd, impress me.” 

nayeon laughs at the sly jab of banter you threw at her while she looks at her phone that showed photos of brain scans, you automatically assumed that dr. hirai also looked at these when assessing mr. myoui’s condition after the surgery. 

“if you look at the different contrasts of how the brain is showed in this imaging.” she says while swiping the screen to show brainwaves that you knew that nayeon also did herself as testing. “notice how all the readings aren’t as consistent as they were before?” 

“i get what you’re saying.”

“i also looked at the logs that jihyo provided from dr. hirai, and the transcripts of those said conversations.” nayeon added, “we could be seeing a different kind of problem here.” 

“you’re not saying that the—“

“this issue has happened before, but we thought of it to be more of a psychological disorder.” she states, “the way he sounded and from the audios can only imply one thing only.” 

maybe what mina was asking about to you is true after all.

“we’re looking at a split personality disorder then.” 

“of something to that degree.” nayeon replies, “spiderwoman had a confrontation with the father after the whole gala thing and she said that he was like, unstable…erratic to better word it.”

everything starts to make sense. you’ve glossed at the case files, and the spellbook that you were looking at while mina was being tended to all started to add up. that red moon was the catalyst of unleashing something within mina. that, and the freak accident that happened to her while she was little while her dad was working at the lab in minatozaki industries. gears in your head started to work at overtime piling all of the information from the past couple of days or weeks. it all comes down to one thing.

“shit.” the realization hits you much harder than a truck. 

“what’s wrong?” nayeon asks you.

“if what you’re saying is true, then we should ask mina about this.” 

“are you sure?”

“anything is better to help her get out of this situation.” you say, “she already wanted to seek help from more people, so this is good.”

nayeon slots her phone back in her pocket, crossing her arms after while tilting her gaze back to you. “i hope you’re doing the right thing here, y/n. you’re lucky i have a study into the psychosocial aspect of someone’s mind.”

“should’ve been a neurologist.”

“bite me.” 

“been there, done that.”

the both of you let out a chuckle together before a sudden thud is heard inside the room. your expression shifts over when you look to the side and back at nayeon, sprinting to the door and shoving it open. 

your heart drops at the sight of the unoccupied bed, the tousled sheets and the cords of the monitors behind all flatlining in an erie tone. the window was open and a cool breeze was blowing through the open passageway. 

a sigh of defeat leaves your lips, scratching your head while nayeon scans the room for any signs or traces. but the situation was all too present to revel in. mina was gone. 

“i should’ve done something about this sooner.” you huff out irritably, placing a hand on the bed while the game on the tv showed the ‘you lose’ words all bold and red for you to see. you back at nayeon with a more stern appearance now, seething air into your teeth before rubbing your chin trying to think about the next move.

“did you always have sharp canines?” nayeon asks you suddenly, noticing the grit teeth from your mouth. “i know that you have the bite mark on your neck but—“

“it’s nothing.” you answer, “i’m fine, and yeah. it’s like baby fang teeth that i’ve had for a while.” 

“hm, okay.” nayeon says coolly. “well i should go back to the lab, i have to fix up another damaged suit for spiderwoman, but let me know if you need additional lab details.”

“i’ll text you, thanks anyway nayeon.”

she hums and excuses herself from the room, leaving you all alone again. this corner was all too familiar to you, and the impending thought of losing after everything that has happened up until this point creeps back into your mind.

you’ve faced many things as doctor strange, but this is just you; no mystical powers, a person that has been grounded down to reality, their whole life changed in an instant, still hands reduced now lingering remnants of the accident, but a mind that still has years of knowledge inside. a broken being who’s burnt bridges and relationships who wanted to fix everything.

mina was the same, she’s the same as you to some degree. she didn’t ask for this to happen, but she’s been thrusted into this whole debacle because of ignorance. her resolve to bring justice for herself against the people that hurt her, and she would be the kind of person to see it through to the end. 

you’ve seen the side of mina that can be loved, cared for, the one where you could leave everything behind just to be with her. you didn’t think you’d have feelings for her, but it’s too strong now to suppress. but there’s a side that you haven’t even uncovered yet, like a secret that only she wants to keep to herself. 

all of these questions could be answered sooner, but the first one that’s the major part of the business while it somewhat scares you now was, 

where could have mina possibly gone off to? 

not that long, maybe some hours later, you’re floating in air along with some of the towering skyscrapers while the whole city is shrouded in a cloudy dusk.

you’re recounting the facts in your head: the myoui family history, the night at the gala, the other night when mina came to you for help, mina, sharing those brief intimate moments of comfort and care, but there was one aspect that was still a blank page for you in unfolding all of this. 

what the heck was the big accident that you’ve been hearing and reading about? 

you stay idle, ascending upwards slightly as your mind continues to tirelessly work, becoming flush with the clouds as the people below become smaller and smaller in your vision. 

thoughts keep flowing in your brain, piecing the whole puzzle together. being suspended in the air was your safe place (frankly, you took inspiration from that one anime character that’s wearing a blindfold with white hair that wong has been watching as of recently) but there was something serene about the silence while being thousands of feet up from the ground.

pensive, but was nayeon’s study actual concrete evidence in addition to the files, recordings, and transcripts of conversations that pose mina’s dad as a threat behind all this? could mina really—no, there’s no possible way even that thought is real. 

brother, saving the universe was more taxing compared to this. 

wait. 

brother?

a spark clicks in your brain. 

you remember looking at the case file jihyo handed to you, the list of names checked off in your head one by one, but there was one outlier, and not to mention it was crossed off in scribbles repeatedly.

mina did mention something, or someone. she couldn’t bring herself to mention the name, nearly breaking down in tears that same night she came to see you. 

you knew exactly where she is.

because it’s also the same place you swore you’d never bring yourself to. 

so without a second thought, you teleport yourself in a quick flash to that location where’d you hoped it would be the same place that mina was, proving every assumption right. 

mina lands awkwardly on a grassy area, her steps staggered as she tries to regain her balance from flying. 

she hobbles over across a row of tombstones, stopping to kneel at one that was a little more adjacent to a nearby tree. wiping the twigs and other grassy parts off from the nearby stone before grazing it with her thumb, tracing the words etched into the rock that was tantamount to the pain she’s been holding in for so long. 

here lies ray myoui, a bright star and beacon of light. 

mina then stands up to back away a few feet from the tombstone, staring at the words while hanging her head in shame at the memory. sounds from her childhood come creeping back of that fateful night that changed everything.

“ray? mina? what are you doing here?! you have to get out, it's too dangerous!” 

“i have to help!”

“ray! don’t go in there!”

“dad stop!”

“sir! we have to leave it’s gonna blo—“

she shakes her head from the flashback, clenching her fist and jaw. a cool breeze flows through the overhanging tree, blowing her hair while she sniffles a bit in a brief moment of sadness.

“i promise ray, i’ll make them pay…i’ll make all of them pay… for this.” mina says with grit teeth. “they can try to stop me, but your story will be told. i won’t be scared anymore.” 

mina then fishes a wilted rose from her pocket, laying it on the tombstone before kissing her palm, planting it on top of the rose. even if her brother was no longer on this earth, she loved him more than her parents who neglected him, now they’re doing the same thing to her. it’s all because of her dad, it wouldn’t bring ray back but it’d be the best bit of justice to have. 

she stays still with her palm flat on the stone, the breeze coming in more forcibly this time before zipping up her windbreaker that she stole. 

“figured that you’d be here.”

a voice calls from behind that was too gentle to run away from. 

mina turns and her expression shifts to a more shocked look at the sight of you floating down from above, the gracefulness behind it once your feet hit the ground, eyes fluttering open with a face full of sympathy, a hint of hurt lying underneath it.

a woolen turtleneck sits nicely on your figure, your hair is wavy like a post makeout session or fresh out of the shower kind of look. you seem relaxed, tired even, but mina can’t help but stare like before when she first woke up back at the hospital. you looked good, radiating cold all over (you were literally up with the empire state building but that’s enough to digress). 

the distance is short between you and mina, like a standoff in one of those old school western movies. your shoulders are square with mina’s, and your hands are still in your pockets, not itching for a fight, a clash of minds some would say like in a game of chess. 

one of you will lose this staring contest over who has the better face card. (spoiler alert: the wind is the winner.) 

“how did you find me?” mina asks, slightly shaken, considering that she had left no traces back at the hospital. which got her thinking, but then again, you were the master of the mystic arts–so this was like child’s play of cat and mouse the way you looked unamused with a tugged smile at the corner of your mouth. 

“i don’t usually like coming here,” you say, looking off to the distance filled with rows of tombstones filling the hills. “not my favorite spot of the city exactly.” 

mina steps a bit forward, nearly inviting herself in your personal bubble, but freezes for a second when she sees your face was still unchanged. “i should’ve said something before when you asked me, i’m sor–” 

“mina,” you say sternly, meeting her eyes because you didn’t need to have her tell you again. “i know.” 

she closes her lips, looking down at her feet. of course you would know about mina’s past, but mina doesn’t know you left one detail out about your accident that shares a sort of commonality between the two of you. 

“this was also the same place where i buried my sister.” 

mina’s eyes on your face fall from wistful to crestfallen, remembering the story you told her a few days ago also humanizes her motives. your smile was gone, unmasking the hidden universe in your eyes that no one has been able to see, until now. “her grave is a little bit past this hill, but i’ve never actually been able to stand in front of it.”

“i see,” mina replies, looking down at her brother's tombstone, patting it to acknowledge his presence in front of you. “sorry again for not asking in the first place.”

“you shouldn’t go off running like that anyway,” you reply, voice slightly strained with worry. “you’re already in danger as it is.”

she winces at the words, knowing the state of her whole situation. she’ll only make things worse if she plays damsel in distress, so the only logical thing to do was to stay put and safe with you. 

“you should’ve told me about your brother.” you say with your head tilted at an angle, “i know that there’s other things to worry but for me to find out while you’re roaming around the city wasn’t the right move.”

“i—i just couldn’t. you know how much i wanted to tell.” mina pleads, closing the distance between you and her more closely by just a few inches. “believe me y/n, this means too much to—“

“then why didn’t you say anything when you came to me that night?”

“because i was afraid of how you’d see me if i told you that i was responsible for my brother’s death?!” 

you remain frozen, unmoved at the fact that mina blames herself over a freak accident from their youth. you’ve seen the case files from jihyo, mr. myoui’s transcripts and recordings with dr. hirai, it doesn’t change the fact that mina is innocent—and you’re gonna do everything to help clear her name. 

“mina.” you say her name against the cool wind, and the way the syllables bounce off your tongue makes the hairs on the back of her neck shiver. “i know you’re scared, and you feel powerless. but i’ve told you this before already, i’m here for you. there’s no need to run away any longer, i can help you.”

mina bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head slightly trying to deny the situation. she wants to stand on her own ground, to defy against everything her family made her think and believe. she can do it, her resolve more firm and clear than anything in this godforsaken world can throw at her. standing up to her father was one of her biggest ever fears, and with her powers, she can do that unlike before. 

“there’s better ways to handle this,” you say, “no one has to get hurt.” 

“how could you possibly know that?!” 

“because,” your voice becoming more gentle and easing, “i understand. all of it.” 

“wha–” 

“i know what it means to lose someone you care so much about.” you say, “i’m no different than you mina, we’re both the same.” 

mina’s gaze softens, brows furrowing while you close your eyes walking forward, making your turn to shorten the gap between you and her. “don’t let your pain blindly drive you to madness wishing that things would be different.” 

she looks down again, the top of her head hitting your collarbone slightly. you look off to the distance, spotting the area where your sister’s tomb was at. recalling the memory of the funeral service with all of your parents and the rest of your family members all gathered to see the coffin be lowered into the ground. 

despite everything that has happened, you kept yourself at a distance, knowing that if you were with your family members, the pain would be too great to bear—so you saw her off from far away; distant and disconnected, but it was the right thing to do. 

tears are stained into your turtleneck, the sounds of the sobs muffled against the fabric as you wrapped an arm around mina while she clutched your waist with her arms. you catch a quick whiff of the apricot scent that was in her hair from the hospital, placing a light kiss on the top of her head to comfort her while mina collects herself. 

“you okay?” you ask mina, still buried into your sweater. a faint muffle of ‘yes’ can be heard while you pat her back. “at least i got to meet ray finally.” 

mina lets out a light chuckle while she wipes her face from the stained tears on her cheek, you’re brushing a few strands of her hair before rubbing your thumb on her cheek, giving a loving look with your eyes, orbs piercing through hers as she lifts a soft smile. “let me say goodbye before we go.” 

so you comply with her request, giving mina some space for a few more minutes, standing on the edge of the tree just before the leaves meet the cloudy sky. watching her kneel down to the tombstone, cleaning the last bits of sticks and twigs from the ground surrounding it before dipping her head down. she gives a few parting words before closing her eyes, whispering to herself before fluttering them open again, the hint of red fading away before standing up, turning to you looking off to the distance again. 

she makes her way to you, a soft smile spread across your face. playing it cool while she hugs you again, your chin on the top of her head, letting yourself hug her before she rests her face on the right side of your chest. she looks up to meet your eyes, and you’re looking down slightly while her hand snakes up to the back of your neck.

“thank you.” mina says, closing the space between your lips with hers. the kiss in itself was intoxicating as your hands snake around her hips again, pulling her towards you while she cups your face with her other hand that wasn’t occupied. there was something alluring about mina this time compared to the other instances, but the relief that you found mina again was the only thing on your mind right now. nothing else mattered. 

you pull away after a few moments, half-drunk from mina’s captivating lips while you catch your breath, her hand on your chest trying to calm down the rapidly beating heart inside. retracting your lips inward and knitting your brows together that makes mina’s eyes appear more glossy, wanting more.

“just do one thing for me this time,” you mutter, looking down in slight embarrassment, “stay with me for now, at my place.” 

“did you have something else in mind?” 

“and never leave me.” 

once back at your place, it had already become nightfall. you don’t even bother turning the lights on around the house because what’s the point in doing so?

mina is in tow right behind you, and all of a sudden your mind feels a little woozy. propping back against the doorframe leading into your room, mina stops you in your tracks to see what was wrong. how typical you; letting your guard down for just a second, the irony of being a doctor and getting sick. 

or maybe it was something else, and you never saw it coming.

“everything fine y/n?” mina asks you, standing opposite from you in the doorway, trying to shake off the sudden headache that was pounding in your head. “you don’t look good.” 

“yeah, i’m fine.” what a tremendous lie that was for you to say. “i need to keep searching for answers from the spellbooks.” 

“you shouldn’t,” mina objects, “you can barely stand up straight.” 

“this is for you. i don’t care about myself.” 

mina sighs out, like it was calculated or prompted from the exchange of words. “you should relax.” 

you want to, but you know you can’t. not while there’s still questions left unanswered and theories to be tested. 

“maybe this can ease your mind.” 

mina pounces at the opportunity, locking lips with yours again, not letting up any chance for you to retaliate or move. a swipe of her tongue into your parted mouth catches you off guard, and you start to kiss her back. 

your mind starts to become more hazier and hazier as the seconds pass. mina pushes more into your mouth exploring more, the space behind your back now becoming more open as you two shuffle towards the bed. you don’t even realize it at first because your lips are being cast under the spell of mina’s. 

it’s enchanting, and dangerous. consuming all of you, and you’re powerless to go against it. 

a whimper is let out when mina lightly bites the same spot she bit as a vampire from that night at the gala, and you stop her for a second, clutching her shoulders while she pulls the nipped skin of your scar. 

“this isn’t right…” you try to say, words getting slurred against mina’s mouth as she repeatedly kisses you. turning away to stop her again before anything else happens. 

this feeling is too unfamiliar, and every notion of morality is replaced by lust, or maybe it was all a ploy in mina’s game. 

“mina…” 

you attempt to stop her for one final time, but she’s quick to shut you up, pushing you on the bed, straddling you with one arm over while the other is pinned to the side. you’re too weak to move, inhibitions lowered with half lidded eyes and all of the nerves in your body feel numb. 

“no,” she hushes you, finger against your lips while she trails down to your neck, grazing the two holes on the right side of your throat. “not mina.” 

not mina? this feels like a dream gone bad, but when your eyes are met with hers again, glowing a hint of red underneath the brown—

“sharon.” 

your mind was too far gone to process what was happening. under the alluring spell, the adrenaline suddenly rushes in your veins, snapping you out for a millisecond before sharon’s lips are crashed with yours, subduing you to her spell even more. 

she forces your arms over your head again, head falling to your neck to bite you in the exact same spot like last time, causing you to yell out in pain, sharon pulling away with fangs now bearing along her teeth, small smears of your blood spread across her lips. 

“i forgot how good you tasted.” sharon says, licking up your neck leaking a bit of blood while you squirmed under her, her grip tightening around your wrists and waist keeping you in place. “looks like my little imprinting experiment worked on you. just took a little bit of time for it to take effect.” 

“fuck–y-you—” 

“ah ah ah,” sharon giggles out, “try to resist it with your natural powers, and the spell will only make it worse, hurting you from the inside.” 

your mind is clouded by mina’s–no– sharon’s spell casted from her mouth, causing you to be under her influence. she’s licking her lips at the sight of your face being flushed, and you’re staring off to the side in hopes that all will come to pass, but her hand is quick around your neck, halting your breathing for just a second. 

“is there something that you want from me, hmm?” sharon asks, “because i can fulfill your desires more than mina ever will.” 

shivering under her touch, her fingers find their way under your turtleneck, the electric sensation of her fingertips grazing over your breast while she roughly kisses you again, eyes glowing underneath while you moan into her mouth. the heat is building in between your thighs, rubbing them together with her leg just beneath the space. the natural fight or flight response kicks in from your brain that isn’t taken over by her lust driven powers. when you push her off, making a break for the door before she grabs your shoulders, throwing you onto the frame of the bed, making you grunt at the sudden pain in your back. 

sharon is quick to mount on your hips again, both of her hands wrapped around your neck again, gripping her wrists to try to get them off. she’s hissing at how much you’re resisting, and her nails are dug into your skin, wincing at how sharper they became. “try to be a bad girl for me again, and the next thing you’ll feel is the cold hard ground when i drop you.” 

there’s no point in fighting, her lips are on yours again, the spell a lot more powerful this time around, marking up your neck again that makes you clutch the back of her head to prolong the contact. she rips off the sweater from your chest, dipping down to kiss your breasts still being held captive by your bra. 

she stops for a second, growling at the sudden stoppage of her assault on you. “are you gonna be good for me? i can sense your thoughts before you even make a move.” 

“y-yes.” you say weakly. 

“so desperate,” sharon says, tracing her finger across your cheek. “how pathetic of you to be like this for me.” 

“i–i—” 

sharon tilts her head, snickering at how you were whimpering to say something, clutching your face forcing you to look up at her. “so now you want something?” 

you shouldn’t, how could you let this happen?

“i want you…” 

the mind is too racked with how sharon has handled you, like a drugged being hopelessly in love. 

“to mark me…” 

you mindlessly rip off your bra, the stars sharon is seeing in your eyes while her red orbs are laser focused on your face and the newly exposed area beneath. 

“as yours.” 

you’ve been poisoned.

the toxicity of this moment has engulfed you, and the craving sensation is humbling—embarrassing to say the least. 

this atmosphere in your small space between you and sharon is hot, her eyes gleaming—hypnotizing you under her rule. you can’t resist, you’re mindlessly letting your hands wander up and down her body, and she’s giggling at you. why is she like this? did i mean to say that? i can’t resist this feeling—

i need her, all of her.

“i’m intrigued, y/n.” sharon says, “i saw everything within you, your thoughts and feelings—the way you dream about her. don’t squander away from the truth. mina could never seize an opportunity like this if it weren’t for me.” 

your throat is dry, unable to speak no matter how much you wanted to. in this space where everything seems to fade out from reality, the room grows darker than it already has. sharon leans down, kissing all over your chest before her nails lightly claw over your breasts. you could feel the sharp fang nearly drawing blood to your skin, clutching to her back once her tongue makes contact with the erected bud of your nipple, causing you to bite your lip at the sensation. 

“take my fucking pants off.” you spat, wretched from the way that sharon has been nearly teasing you for quite some time now. “rip it from my body, i’m begging—.” 

“do you think i should listen after putting me in chains when i came to you?” 

her gaze burns through your face, the pit in your stomach deepens. the words that are coming out of your mouth shouldn’t be even said at all. you’ve fantasized about a night with mina—just slightly—-but you envisioned it to be soft and tender.

this version of mina was completely out of left field, despite how feral she was with her disheveled hair, fangs on the upper row of her teeth, the way she effortlessly tossed you on the bed after resisting, how her kisses were more aggressive, rougher. 

to admit it would only ensure your defeat.

“i…” you try to speak, “just—“

the words are slow to bounce off the tongue and teeth, hands grilling the bedsheets under you while sharon’s mouth hovers over your ear. her breath flowing down the canal that makes you move your head from the feeling, and her head follows your movements. 

sharon’s hands are quick around your waist, the cold palms in combination with her mouth marking up any territory that wasn’t touched on your skin, trailing down to your waist that makes your back fucking arch.

“le—let me,” the stuttering words falling out while sharon continues to bite lightly across the plane of your stomach.  

“you taste delicious, that and your blood. i wonder if what you have down there is more mouth-watering to fulfill my cravings.”

“fucking hell, mina—“

“how the mighty have fallen so high.” sharon sighs out, cleaning up your bloodied neck more with her mouth. casually speaking, most people would bleed out at this point but your endurance was well worked for you to still be alive—only to be overpowered by pleasure. “you’ve dreamed about me doing this, haven’t you?”

“not exactly,” you reply, playing along with this game, but you’re not even sure if you’re the one answering or if her spell is answering for you. 

“what if i said that mina is able to do this without my help?” her voice husked out with every bite to it.

sharon is leading this naturally, and all you’re instructed to do is follow and surrender. you don’t even realize the pants coming off of your legs because her eyes are keeping you entranced, teasing you by hovering her lips over yours—inciting a string of mewls and whines that makes her laugh at your appearance. 

you don’t answer her question, resulting in more blood being sucked out of you, sharon humming at the seeping life drained away from your being. 

“please,” you groan out, sharon’s chin grinding along the digits of your abs, spreading you apart, sharp fangs hitting your inner thighs, yelling a quick ‘ah!’. head leaned all the way back from the quick teasing that is nothing but torture. 

sharon waves her hand, whispering out a cantation that materializes chains, clutching your wrists—keeping them apart and spread away from your body. you don’t resist from it, the spell you were under now nullifying all rational thoughts; you were under sharon’s full control. 

“to think the sorcerer supreme would be like this for me, this should be a big achievement.”

she kisses you again, this time more sensually in contrast to her hungry, assertive kisses. her hands cupping your face as she prolongs the feeling of your lips on hers. 

there’s a brief three second period of open air, a relief before you’re caught off guard when her mouth is on your pussy, the flat of her tongue swiping up and in—your feet point forward as her hands are quick to keep your hips in place.

nails digging into your flesh, the sheets below are rumpled up as your hands are clenched into fists against the restraints. your cunt being well worked in addition to your clit being shuffled into the mix.

“god, you’re fucking ravishing. it’s unbelievable.” sharon mumbles as she dives back for more, hips bucking while she claws your breast, the overstimulation from her mouth has you clenching your teeth, hips off from the bed as her tongue is deep in you, so deep.

a pendulum swings in your stomach, the familiar feeling that you’ve been deprived up for so long, from the licking and sucking and hissing and groaning that’s happening at your core, every nick and bone in your body tenses up for the release. it’s only a matter of time until—

“fucking—c-cumming, god mi—“ you say, gritting your teeth together. sharon looks up from your pussy to see the peak of your chin aimed at the ceiling, picturing your face with eyes rolled back against the lids, mouth hanging open and voice straining as if you fight back the moans (you don’t).

sharon helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping up the leaking slit with every part of her tongue, the sharp fangs of her teeth pinching a little around your swollen cunt, pulling away while she cleans her lips with her tongue, admiring the work she has done over you.

“you look so adoring.” she coos, fingers skating up and down your hips, thumb swiping your clit that makes you twitch from the contact of her fingertip. “but you want more don’t you?”

you’re mumbling out this sound from your lips, something like yes, always. it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. it does. it does. it does, it does—

she soothes the wound on your neck, the bleeding stopped from the two slightly gaping holes on your throat, appearing like a colon. light kisses with a small hiss leaving her lips, she makes her way back up to you, trapping her face with yours for a few moments. 

“so amusing,” she says, expectant and landing kisses on your cheek. you’re left breathless as she murmurs this into your skin, “i’m surprised that you haven’t bled out completely yet.”

(well—i mean—you were the master of the mystic arts, jack of all trades some would say, but that’s irrelevant.)

before you could even answer, her lips are on yours again for however it’s been since you two got back in your apartment. she’s gnawing at your bruised lips, never letting up in savoring the taste of her blood smeared lips, the hints of iron on your taste buds. she pulls away after, your lidded eyes are crossed slightly while fixed on her face, licking your lips for more.

“since you’re so good, i guess i could be a little nicer.” she says, a snap of her fingers that makes the chains on your wrists vanish into thin air. sharon then takes off the shirt, discarding it somewhere off in the room. your eyes widen at the clad chest hanging over you, salivating while she sighs with her hands bracing the headboard. 

“you can touch me now.” she says lowly, prompting you to let your hands finally have fun for a bit, rubbing up and around sharon’s midsection to your heart’s content. sharon sighs at the contact of your hands, biting her lip at the appearance of your dried blood smeared all over your neck and chest, the hickeys also present before you got ahead of yourself when she feels your lips nipping at her collarbone, causing her to push you back onto the bed forcefully. 

“i don’t like that.” she says, indulging another bite into your neck–your weak spot at this point before she plants her lips with yours to keep the spell in effect, this time leaving you completely incapacitated. “you’ve lost your touching privileges, now i’m going to absolutely ruin you.” 

your mind tries to respond, but a part of you already understands. predator to prey, this was how it is now. 

her lone hand trails down as you feel the nails skate over your sensitive skin. face flushed hot pink just like yours that was more crimson than hers, but the sensation grows down under when sharon parts your folds, causing your hips to shift off to the side the more she continues her up and down motion. 

“f-fuck–more…plea–se, fuck mi–shit–” you’re slurring your words at this point while sharon teased you yet again, holding off everything in your thoughts to move while she’s whispering something into your ear again, the tone and eroticness just enough to make your head explode. 

“what am i to you?” 

“y-yours…” 

“say it again.” 

trying to shake off her head on the side of you, it doesn’t work. defying wasn’t the answer—it’s even worse when she slips a finger inside your cunt, feeling how slick it has become while she soothed you again with a soft kiss on your jaw. a whine being the only pathetic utterance coming out of your mouth. 

“don’t make me ask again.” sharon snarls, fangs grazing your face while she clutches the roots of your hair. “if you want more, say it.” 

“i’m yours sharon…” you say and the fog swallows you whole in your mind.

“lovely, you’ve earned it.” 

another digit is inserted inside you, causing you to moan more loudly than before. the litany of curses that leaves your mouth is nothing more than a classical arrangement. sharon's long and slender fingers slide in and out effortlessly, and she’s just enjoying the moment hearing these sounds out of you. 

the pace continues on for more, and you’re gritting your teeth–trying to fight the inevitable. she senses this, feeling it. you’re stifling a moan with your hand over your mouth, but sharon swipes it away, holding it down on the pillow before she bites into your shoulder to make you feel the mix of pain and pleasure.

“you can keep calling me mina or sharon, darling. either way, she can hear these lovely sounds coming out of you. let me hear it all.” 

“s-stop–” you whine, the senseless fucking in a consistent rhythm still present all over your body. sharon can only keep smirking while you’re about to become unraveled again. 

“scream for me, i can feel you arching.” 

the moment comes in a flash, your body is simply past its limits—limits that you didn’t even think were possible in a time like this, and you yell out and fall slack, twitching while sharon keeps the contact in your pussy with her fingers, pulling out soon after with her fingers covered with your juices. you were thoroughly fucked. 

she towers over your body, the marks, hickeys, flushed face, puffy pussy and lips, tousled hair, the bruised wrists from the chains. the glowing red eyes fade away for a slight millisecond, back to mina, and she doesn’t say a word before sharon returns. she then showers a few light kisses, before biting into the other side of your neck—marking her territory again while sucking away another few pints of blood before retreating completely. 

your eyes try to stay open as much as possible, you’re too sterile to really move or do anything, so you just lay barren, exposed and wrecked, just how she wanted you to be. 

“you belong to me, my beautiful masterpiece…” she whispers out to you, the airy breath leaving her lips while your mind slips into the darkness of unconsciousness. 

the following day after that night was an unwelcome one. 

you’re taking inventory, and recounting damage around the room, sitting at your dining table alone (wearing regular clothes instead of being naked) with a depressing glass of water. 

mina left you again, and this time it feels like it would be for real. 

no traces, no note, no lead of where she might have gone–it was simply back to square one, just like before back at the hospital. this was a losing battle, and it was only a matter of time before the chief and detective park put themselves into the mix of finally capturing mina. the clock was dwindling, and you still haven’t found a viable solution to save her. 

desperate times call for desperate measures. 

a snap of your fingers brings five spellbooks this time, each one of the opening to a page that had a multitude of spells and tricks that you can use to combat against mina sharon. you’ve been played, got karma for putting a vampire in chains. not to mention, you’ve had a throbbing headache since you woke up after—

you slam the table out in anger, the sound of a small hiss leaving your lips. pissed off and frustrated (mentally and sexually) you storm out to the window overlooking the city while your mind is tirelessly thinking about how to end this once and for all. there was one more ace in your deck of cards, the last resort that you didn’t think you’d have to use—but there’s no other choice. 

behind your tv was a safe that kept a very old crusty spellbook that wasn’t meant to leave outside kamar taj, but you kept it as a souvenir after your bout with dormammu. turning to a specific page, you recall suggesting the exorcism spell that wong was very much against, resulting at the cost of one’s life, something that you were willing to do if it meant to save the city once more. 

you’re staring at the hand signs to commence the spell, determined to use this if needed when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, seeing the message on your lockscreen that speeds up the whole process of everything that’s happened. 

nay: 

the lab’s been raided

mr. myoui was panicking around the courtyard 

then he went missing 

y/n: 

where is he now? 

nay: 

the abandoned cathedral 

this might be for real 

put on your best suit. 

from that last text, you stare at the ripped page that carried the exorcism spell. this was it, now or never—a final confrontation between the father and daughter, the ninth symphony. you’re jumping out of the window with your cloak of levitation following right behind you. 

you eventually make it to the old abandoned cathedral, sneaking up to the bell tower that fed into the upper atrium towards the back. quietly sneaking through a walkway on the side, listening to the growing exchange of voices below once you got closer. 

“mina, i know you’re angry, but you have to understand–”

“you could never understand! what you put us through, the false picture you’ve painted us as, the way you’re not taking responsibility!” 

“this won’t bring your brother back.” 

“this was never about him!” 

you get to a vantage point that views the altar below. mr. myoui on the steps while mina is right in front of him, inching closer and closer to him. the cue to intervene was about to happen, but you’re waiting for the right time to step in. 

mr. myoui tries to get up but mina forces him back down with a gust of wind. “i did what was best for you, i swear! it was for the sake of your own well being!” 

“i didn’t ask for these powers in the first place!” mina exclaimed, “you and your stupid obsession to live longer has grown far too old, it’s a dumb fantasy.” 

“and yet look at you, a reincarnation of our family vision for so many years. you’re the perfect rendition of so many attempts!” 

mina’s eyes glow red again, but this time it appears she got it under control. 

“for irene, dahyun, miyeon, all of them throughout our history, and i’m the last one?” 

mr. myoui laughed, like this was everything that went against what you initially thought of the man. “you want to get rid of your powers? it’s impossible, the machine that caused the whole accident has been destroyed a long time ago.”

“then i’ll just have to kill you then.” mina says in a monotone voice, lunging forward that makes mr. myoui cover up in fear. 

that’s your cue. 

in a swift motion, you make your entrance from above, landing right in the middle of mr. myoui and mina, putting your arms out to ease the tension of the situation between the two of them, not wanting to end this in a fight. 

“y/n?” mina asks, bewildered. 

“this isn’t the way to do things, i’ve said this before multiple times.” you say, keeping your gaze locked on mina before switching over to mr. myoui, acknowledging him with a simple nod. in perfect timing, wong enters the cathedral from above, just right behind mina with his hands bearing orange protective circles. 

“sure took your time to get here wong.” 

“i know you took the forbidden book, but we can save that for later.” he barks, making you smirk at the small exchange. 

things eventually escalated to worse, when the police started to barge in from all four corners of the cathedral, closing in to the center of the church, guns primed and ready, men and women clamoring the four of you to get down on the ground mixed with hands in the air. (it’s never one because of the other, god the police force is confusing sometimes) 

you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, trying to get your message across to the police, did they really think it would be a good idea to shoot at a literal superhero who saved the universe? wong is also doing the same thing, stepping closer behind mina who has her hands up like mr. myoui. too many things happening in this chaotic, better yet—who the hell tipped off the police?!

“alright everyone, settle down!” you hear the voice of the chief coming in on the loudspeaker, jihyo’s gun is also trained to you four. “we don’t have to get all antsy with this, we just want to talk.” he says, “mr. myoui, are you willing to comply with the police if you turn yourself in?” 

“you’re batshit crazy if i’m going to do that!” he yells, forcing you to look at him as he did. you feel a small sense–a tingle of sorts–formulating in the back of your mind. sound deafens out from your eardrums, and your vision starts to get cloudy, but you’re brought back when mr. myoui is calling out to you to reason with the chief. “tell them y/n! i’m the innocent one here!” 

“i think we can all solve this without anyone getting hurt.” you say, reassuring the crowd with your hands, spinning around to see that you had no intention to harm or retaliate. “nobody has to die tonight.” 

as soon as you say that, the dimmed lights flicker on then off, making you and everyone look up at the sudden change, but the sense comes back again, this time it’s more stronger–like you’re being controlled.

“well,” mina’s voice catches your ears, turning towards her as she stands idly, arms lowering, “just one person though, if that’s okay with you…” 

her eyes glowed red again, tilting her head as if she were commanding you while your eyes roll to the back of your head.

a flurry of black flashes flow in instant seconds. 

one moment you were standing, the next moment you were kneeled over mr. myoui who was on the floor. 

clutching his neck that was gnawed at, blood spewing out uncontrollably, gasping for air. you don’t register it for a second, but then you see the bite mark, and the small stains of blood across your palm, fangs in your teeth shown in the reflected pool surrounding him. you don’t remember doing that, at all. 

mina made you do that. 

while your natural instinct was to protect the person you once saved, your look then shifts over to mina who’s weaving around the policemen, bodies flying everywhere and bullets are in the space. wong is also chasing after mina, keeping the police force at bay while trying to get you back to your senses, yelling repeatedly amidst the chaos that reaches you. 

“fuck,” you mutter out, darting to catch mina from her blind spot, she senses this and changes her direction last second, causing you to crash into two police men, slicing the barrels from their guns to stop them from shooting. mina then grabs you from behind, tossing you like she did on the bed, this time to a stone pillar, holding you by the shoulders as she growled out when you try to shake her off. 

“mina, stop this!” you yell, pushing her face away before another policeman tries to fire at her, you’re dodging the bullets while moving your hands to make a spell, placing it on the ground that erupts tree roots that canvas the open area around the altar. 

the room shakes again as you see mina float up for a few seconds, a blue amber surrounds her, before pounding into the ground that makes everyone catch some air. you’re not fazed by this as your cloak of levitation keeps you from touching the ground, and you form an orange whip that catches mina’s hand, pulling her up before landing a solid hit to her midsection that sends her crashing to the centerpiece table. 

you’d worry about if you hurt her or not, but the cathedral starts to shake again, the fragile structure now crumbling around the group that shifts this final battle into save and survey. you see a number of policemen and women make a break to the outside exits, a hint of jihyo’s hair making a break for the exit as well, helping her comrades while the chief is scouring through the rubble for something, or someone.

“chief! it’s too dangerous here, you gotta get out!” 

“i’m not leaving without akira!” 

he wasn’t the priority, not now. you sprint to the broken table, seeing that mina was still down on the ground, shaking her up to wake, “mina, mina wake up!” she eventually comes to, and a small sense of relief leaves your lips. 

mina’s head is still ringing from the fall, and her eyes eventually fixate on you. getting her up from the rubble, the place is still shaking, a part of the roof had already caved in towards the back, and it was going to be that way if you and her don’t leave now. 

“can you move?” you ask her, to which she nods, she was back to her normal self. that was one thing off the checklist, now for—

a gunshot is sounded off behind you. 

you look at mina, and then you look down to see a stain of blood underneath her shirt. she falls into your arms while you turn around to see that it was mr. myoui who fired the shot, clutching his neck while doing so before an overarching piece of the building falls on top of him, solidifying his permanent demise. 

mina clutches your cheek, she’s gasping for air while you’re denying the sad expression that’s breaking through your face right now. “hey hey hey, stay with me, please.” you plead, pressing down on the wound in her stomach, making her wince at the sharp pain, forcing your hand off. “i gotta do this to stop the bleeding mina, you’re not dying on me.” 

her breath becomes shallow, and more of the broken stones start to fall around you, leaving you trapped in the small area. wong is able to spot you, fireman carrying a wounded policeman, ducking his head from the tumbling structure. “l/n! we have to go now!” he yells at you, noticing you holding mina’s limp body.

“don’t worry about me! get out of here!” you instruct wong, as he nods, making a break for the last opening before it’s closed off by the collapsing pillar. mina’s hand clutches to the back of your neck, forcing your look on her again, but it’s not her that’s doing it but—

“when one life dies, the other lives.” sharon hisses out, the other persona rightfully taking control of the body while she laughs at your ‘losing’ face. 

you simply close your eyes at the realization of what you have to do now. 

mouthing the activation words for the exorcism spell, you lay your palm flat on her chest as it glowed purple–the indication for dark magic–as a circle forms beneath you two. sharon’s evil laugh is all you’re hearing as the warbling of the spell continues to get louder, overpowering her voice. the energy coursing through your veins while the circle gets bigger around you, the stones closing in. 

a white light glows from your palm flat on sharon’s chest, before lifting both hands like an offering to the gods above, sharon feels a weird sensation in her body–like the life force was being sucked out of her body away from mina, and that’s the case really. 

“no! no no no, what are you doing? stop this! stop this now!” she demands, the restraints you put on her while the main spell was working doing it’s work once again, nullifying her movement and while the warped sound gets louder and louder.

you let out a controlled breath before placing your hands on her chest again, eyes opening glowing stark white before you're shielding her from the falling debris over your head with your hand, the building caving in on top of you.

mina’s body jolts in her sleep, eyes fluttering open and focusing around the dim dark room. the regalness of the bed and the history around it indicating that it was your room in the sanctum sanctorum. 

she shifts around the covers, noticing the empty space behind her, door ajar leading to the hallway. she tries to remember what had happened before she ended up here, but can’t. was it a bad dream? everything that’s happened up till this point even real? she can’t put a finger on it to recall, and her body feels sore still, almost gingerly. 

laying on her side, she closes her eyes from looking at the draped curtains that cover the bright, cloudy morning of the city. her ears pick up the sound of soft footsteps coming from the hall and into the door. you’re walking in with a small tray of herbal teas that looked like they could be hundreds of years old from the scent to the appearance of the cups as you place it on the nightstand. 

“mina.” you call out her name softly, and her eyes blink open to the sight of you standing on the edge of the bed, grumbling into the sheets while she shifts around to get her brain to stay awake now. you sit right next to her, hand on her slightly exposed shoulder peeking out before leaning down to leave a few kisses across her cheek. 

mina then sits up slightly, elbows propped up on the pillow. she’s staring at your loosely fitted oversized shirt that shows the pucker-shaped bruises shadowing across your throat from the night prior. she attempts to move while you’re stopping her from doing any more actions, “not too much moving now.” you say, hand on her chest to keep at bay. “how are you feeling?” 

“i don’t know,” she responds, “i can’t seem to remember much from what happened. it’s like the whole memory is gone to me.” 

“well, the only thing that matters is that you’re fine now, and safe.” you say, slotting yourself under the sheets and tangling your limbs with mina before finally getting comfortable in the bed with your arms around her. 

mina wants to protest, something doesn’t feel right about this. there’s no place she’d rather be than in your arms, doing exactly what you set out to do; save her. the freedom from her family is so liberating even if she’s slumbering off in your chest by the minute.

you’re moving a part of hair past her ear, looking down at mina while she subconsciously pouts her lips for you to kiss, the exchange of inhales and feeling of her hot mouth intoxicating you the more you two lazily fight for dominance, still tired from last night’s exploration of each other’s bodies. 

she mumbles something against your mouth, pulling away while you’re grazing your thumb across her cheek and jaw, planting another kiss before backing off to take in the details of her sleeping face. her soft breathing and the subtle rise and fall of her chest flush with yours makes you drink in the sight a little more than usual compared to previous occasions. 

hand propped on your head, your eyes lower down from her cheekbone to her jaw, then to her slender neck—where there was a noticeable bite mark highlighted for you to see.

you simply smile at the work you’ve done, eyes hinted with a glowing red beneath your irises before fading out back to your original eye color. feeling the fangs in your upper row with your tongue before they retract back to your normal set of teeth.

[forthewomenonly]

Masterpiece

A/n: Sacrificed my sleep and sanity for this holyyy shit. Warnings: NSFW, smut, GAYS, Vada Cavell x reader, Vada Cavell x fem reader (implied no pronouns used), g!p Vada, slight oral R receiving, unprotected sex, drug use ______________________________________________________________

"Can I draw on you?" Vada asks looking up at you from her sprawled out position on your bed. Cocking your head to the side in confusion you bring your shared joint to your lips and take another drag.

"It's just, my hands are fidgety- and you have washable markers on your desk and I'm bored, are you bored? I really think that-" She cuts off her own incessant rambling, acutely aware of your ever growing annoyance.

You exhale deeply, the milky smoke furling in the air of your bedroom. Putting out the finished blunt, your eyes meet Vada's own hazy dilated ones and you lazily nod your head.

She quickly hops off of the bed, taking a moment to steady herself on her feet before hastily grabbing your markers. Joining you on the bed once more, Vada takes in your fully clothed figure.

"So are you gonna take off your shirt? Not that i'm asking to see you shirtless! I just- just need space to draw."

You roll your eyes, a smile toying at the corners of your lips. You take your shirt off, rolling over to lay on your stomach.

Vada hesitantly reaches her hand out, touching your back with the tips of her fingers. Her cheeks flush slightly, taking in the muscles of your back and the softness of your skin. You press your back into her touch, welcoming the warm feeling of her fingertips on your body.

"What are you gonna draw Vads?" you say softly, resting your chin on top of your folded arms.

"Just doodles." She responds before carefully moving to straddle the backs of your thighs.

You feel the tip of the marker skating across your back as Vada deftly moves her hand, drawing designs and patterns onto your exposed flesh. The marker tickles against your skin and has you giggling, shifting yourself closer to Vada. Your clothed ass makes contact with her pelvis and the action has your friend's eyes widening dramatically.

Distracting herself with the ink on your skin, she leans over you, getting a better angle to colour in one of her drawings. Shifting uncomfortably underneath your friend, you reach your hand back and press into the fabric of her shorts.

"Vada what the hell is in your pocket?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed as your hand moves curiously.

Your palm brushes against her concealed hard-on and the brunette instantly reels at the touch, pulling away from you and clambering off of your legs hurriedly. Turning over and propping yourself up on your elbows you look confusedly at the frantic girl. She stands awkwardly beside your bed with deep red cheeks and impossibly wide eyes.

Lowering your gaze you gawk at the obvious bulge in Vada's shorts. "Is that...?"

"Oh god" she mumbles out through her hands, peeking through her fingers to gauge your reaction.

"Can I...can I see it?" You say slowly, scared to alarm your friend any further.

"What?" she asks incredulously, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you.

"Your dick Vada, can I see it?"

Clearly unsuspecting of your blatant straightforwardness, Vada chokes on her saliva. Coughing for a few seconds as you watch her with a quirked brow. Once she catches her breath and realizes that you are in fact not joking, she moves to sit back on your bed. Shimmying out of her shorts and boxers, Vada's freed dick slaps against her shirt covered abdomen.

"Holy shit." You bite your lip, eyeing the now fully hardened length of your friend. "Vada can I-"

Before you can even finish your question, she shifts her hips up to your slightly outstretched hand. Slowly you wrap your hand around her erect cock. Swiping your thumb over the slit of her ruddy tip has Vada gasping loudly, pushing herself farther into your hand.

Stroking up and down her dick a few more times, you move your hand to rid yourself of your bra. Vada groans when you remove your hand but very quickly becomes ecstatic when she sees your naked chest. Swiftly ridding herself of her own shirt and bra, the brunette sits fully nude in front of you. Beckoning her over with a wave of your fingers, Vada sits patiently on her knees, waiting for permission between your legs. Threading a hand in her dark hair, you pull her over you. Catching herself with her arms and holding herself over you, Vada kisses you desperately. Detaching herself from your mouth to pepper kisses along your jaw and throat, she reaches down to touch your exposed chest. As one arm continues to hold herself above you, the other moves with the utmost efficiency, rubbing one of your nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The second you arch into her touch, Vada moves to sit back on her knees, fumbling with the button and zipper of your pants. Once your pants and underwear are finally discarded Vada wastes no time in burying her face in your wet heat. Slowly, she drags her tongue through your arousal-coated folds, and the moment her lips wrap around your clit, you're sure that you must already be embarrassingly close to cumming. Reluctantly, Vada pulls away and leans back over you. Looking back into your half-lidded eyes, she wavers, waiting for you to ensure that you want to be intimate with her. Once you nod your head, Vada eagerly thrusts inside of you. Waiting for you to adjust before slamming the rest of her length inside your awaiting cunt. "Fuckkk" She drawls out, sucking a sharp inhale through her teeth as she continues her fast pace. Ducking her head to lick and suck at your neck, Vada pounds into you harder, her cock dragging against your gummy walls with every thrust. You moan loudly, nails scratching angry red lines onto the tan skin of her back. Bringing a hand down to the junction where your hips meet, Vada presses her thumb harshly against your puffy clit, causing you to cry out and clench around her. Rubbing taut, fast circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you approach the brink of your orgasm rapidly. She feels you clench and tighten around her, reminding Vada all too well of her own impending orgasm. Moving faster as a means to sate her arousal. Feeling you cum around Vada's dick leaves the poor girl desperate for release, her mind clouded at the feeling of your wetness gushing around her painfully stiff cock. "Please can I cum inside? Fuck y/n, need to cum so so bad" She grunts out desperately. Vada can see your apprehension, your mouth opens then closes a few times, trying to contemplate her words before you speak your own. She's ready to pull out when you wrap your legs urgently and tightly around her waist, trapping the girl in place. Your heels dig into her back pressing Vada closer to you, as she bites your neck jerking her hips into you wildly.

Thick ropes of her cum are pumped inside of you as Vada's post orgasmic pace never falters. You shake slightly and Vada finally slows, carefully pulling out, afraid to inadvertently overstimulate you anymore than she already has. Slumping down beside you, Vada unsurprisingly starts rambling once again. "That was awesome. It was so good for me, was it good for you too? I mean obviously you came but-" "Vada." You interrupt sternly, cringing slightly at the harshness of your tone. "Yes it was good for me too." You say much more softly this time around, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She grins widely and you press a short kiss to her lips lovingly, Vada stares at you with adoration, her high faded long ago after the sobering effects of your rigorous fucking. Turning so that your back faces her, you pull Vada's arm across your body and feel her bury her face in your hair, pressing occasional kisses onto your scalp. Pulling away from your embrace ever so slightly, Vada traces over her drawings with featherlight touches. "What are you doing back there?" You question playfully, leaning back into her hands. "Admiring my masterpiece of course." She says now kissing your upper back and shoulders. "Take a picture of your drawings for me, I would love to see your 'masterpiece'."

"Wasn't talking about my drawings, silly." She says kissing up your neck and onto your cheek. You quickly realize what she's insinuating and you turn to face her, hiding your reddened face in the crook of her neck.

After an elongated moment of comfortable silence, you finally speak up... "You're paying for my morning-after pill."

[simpingforstardew]

i will come back

pairing: sdv elliot x reader

synopsis: elliot comes back from his book tour one week early, and it's safe to say you've missed each other... a lot ♡

warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni). body worship / praise kink, pwp, reader is described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader receiving); penetrative sex. no protection / contraceptive described. not proof-read !!

word count: 1.4k

Elliot has been on a book tour for more than a season now. Although you are proud of your husband, his absence has made time stand still. It feels like the valley is holding its breath, waiting for his return.

Loneliness permeates every corner of your home. Without a partner holding you together after long days on the farm, you feel yourself falling apart. You wear nothing but a white cotton t-shirt of his, hugging you loosely— not as tight as he would, but the aquatic scent that lingers on the garment is a soothing comfort.

Your fingers trace the pages of his latest masterpiece. The words etched upon them testify to his literary brilliance and the romanticism that consumes him.

As enthralling as Elliot’s writing is, it's not the same as your husband being with you.

You miss him.

You miss holding him in your arms; laughing with him about some meaningless inside joke; kissing his soft lips to shut him up.

Just as swiftly as a whisper in the wind, the front door swings open; Elliot appears in the doorway, framed by the fading light of dusk.

“My love, I’m home—”

You rush into his arms before he can finish his sentence, dropping the novel on the floor as you hold Elliot tightly as if afraid he might disappear once more.

“But you… you said you wouldn’t be home until next week?” you whisper, looking up at him through misty eyes.

“The tour ended earlier than you expected, your love,” Elliot squeezes you just as tight, nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t want to waste a moment longer being away from you.”

With a gentle touch, you place both your hands on the sides of his face, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Did you miss me?" you already know the answer, but need to hear him say it.

Elliot nods, and you can tell he wants to kiss you— the way he keeps trying to bring his lips to yours; the way his eyes flicker to your lips as you speak.

“Say it,” you whisper, resisting the urge to kiss your lover for just a second longer. He can’t fight off a smile at your request; still, as always, Elliot obliges.

“As much as the sun misses the flowers in winter, dear. I adore you,” he trails kisses down your throat to punctuate his praise, “Like nobody has ever loved anyone before. I worship you and I am yours entirely and completely, my muse.”

You feel his hands in your hair, gently pulling your head back as he continues to murmur in incessant worship, his tone soft and intimate.

Desire spills down your spine as you arch against him and realise he’s hard, pressing himself into the juncture of your thigh. You bite your lip and reach out, burying your hands in his long auburn hair— it's just as soft as you remember. Elliot leans into your touch.

As his eyes flutter closed he presses his forehead against yours while his hands dance along the curve of your waist, fingertips tracing a path along your spine.

His fingertips always ignited goosebumps in their wake.

With his hands closed over your wrists, he glides his lips against yours, laying a feather-like touch along your sides, your ribs, and up your arms.

Elliot groans, the sound tinged with an inhuman growl, as his cold hand closes over your wrist. As he pins you to the front door to close it, you’re certain you’ve never been so aroused in your life. You whine, tugging at the grip he has on your wrists as his free hand slides under your shirt, icy fingers splayed wide on your stomach, and you instinctively arch back as Elliot’s slender fingers begin to dance mindlessly across your chest.

“Now it’s your turn to tell me something,” He whispers against your neck, his breath ragged and warm. “Tell me you want to fuck me.”

“Please.” The whimper that escapes your lips is desperate— you both have been for months. As you nibble against his lips he grins savagely into your mouth, your hands fumbling at his belt to wrap a hand around his shaft; Elliot gasps at the coolness of your touch as you draw your thumb over his tip.

You barely have time to protest as he pulls back, hooking his fingers into the collar of your shirt and tearing it apart like a page from a book. The t-shirt falls to the ground, exposing you to the chill of your farmhouse.

Elliot leans back to take in every inch of you, and you shiver under his gaze. He kneels before you, trailing light kisses down your sternum before pausing to look up at you, evergreen eyes gleaming.

“You’re fucking divine, my love.” His praise makes you squirm, a morphine-sweet tug that leaves you breathless. His soft kisses on your thigh cause you to buck your hips, as he whispers sweet nothings so quietly you’re almost convinced the words are unintentional.

“How I have missed this… Missed you,” Elliot's kisses wander further up your thighs, “So perfect for me, always so gorgeous... You look divine. Every inch of you looks like poetry in motion,” he continues, massaging your shaking thighs. “I’ve missed touching you like this— your warmth; your gorgeous sound; your perfect taste…”

Before you could beg for more, or hide away from the attention, you feel Elliot’s soft lips kiss your aching clit. You stood pressed against your oak door, kept there by Elliot’s hands possessively squeezing your hips.

“I want you to tell me when you feel like you’re going to come,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, your voice small as you shake with anticipation.

Elliot’s tongue laps up your wetness; his moans vibrate through your core. You feel his hands reach around to grab your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth. Elliot’s tongue urges you closer to orgasm as his fingers stroke over your folds; slowly pushing into you— just an inch at first, and then working deeper in smooth, blissful plunges. He adds a second finger and the sense of fullness is exquisite; Elliot’s thumb massages your sensitive clit in firm, delicious circles.

“Elliot, I— Please . . . I can’t— I-I’m gonna come," you moan, the words rushing out in broken gasps.

Just as suddenly, Elliot’s mouth freezes, leaving you trembling as you perch on the brink of release. He withdrew his touch; you whine at the loss.

“Already, pet?” Elliot smirks, placing another kiss on your sensitive heat before rising from his knees. “Well if you are, it should be on my cock, don’t you think?”

The question was entirely hypothetical, you realize, as Elliot picks you up. Shuddering with anticipation, you wrap your legs around him before he sets you down gently. As you sink into the soft plush of your bed, you wrap your arms around Elliot's neck, pulling him into a frenzied kiss.

“I need you, darling” he says hoarsely, eyes blown wide with lust, “I need you now.”

You reach down, freeing Elliot's erection and positioning his shaft towards your opening. It is almost dizzying to hear Elliot's slow, seductive moan as he enters you.

Ever the romantic, he had intended to take it slow, but after gazing into your eyes, seeing how they roll back in utter bliss, he can't resist slipping inside.

“Don’t stop,” you moan. “Please.”

“N-never… Oh, my—” he groans, his composure faltering.

As you move together, you grasp his shoulders and hold on tightly, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Elliot,” you whine, your body responding to his with increasing urgency. You feel like you're losing control, being carried away by the intensity of the moment; far sooner than you would have liked, with a moan that echoes through the house, you burst into ecstasy.

As he collapses on top of you, he holds you close. His lips brush against your temple as he whispers, "Lie down with me."

You comply, quickly burrowing under the duvet. As you drift off to sleep, you feel a sense of peace for the first time in over a season.

Unbeknownst to you, Elliot remains awake, gently stroking your hair as he watches over you. The last thing you hear before slipping into dreams is his voice, whispering gentle praise against your skin.

[atierrorian]

| Glad it's you | — R.H

PARING: Rook Hunt x Deaf!reader

SYNOPSIS: All your entire life, you knew silence. But—it isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Because even with your biggest flaw, he still chose you.

˗ˏˋGENRE ´ˎ˗ — Romance, fluff, angst/comfort

˗ˏˋCW ´ˎ˗ — Rook is already a warning. Ooc, mentions of bullying, stalking(It's Rook, duh) horrible poetry.

˗ˏˋNOTES ´ˎ˗ — Wow! It has been a while and I am so sorry for not making anything in quite some time, I've become so busy nowadays that writing has barely crossed my mind, so I'll make most of my free time writing this!

✎| Masterlists|Navigation |

♡ "Are you really willing to accept me?" ♡ "I've accepted you a long time ago."

People always pitied you for as long as you can remember now. Frequently assuming it must be hard not being able to hear. And yeah, sometimes—but it isn't as bad as they make it out to be, if anything, you find solace in the silent world you have lived in all your life. Sure, there were times when it was hard to understand people, especially if they didn't know sign language.

Luckily, you mostly used poems to interact with them. Though, it was amusing to see them struggle to grasp your poems—that's what makes it fun anyway.

And so, making use of your skills, you swiftly wrote down another poem for a certain hunter. He's one of the few people you've known who could actually decipher what your poems meant. And it's not to say each and every time you show him your masterpiece, he always seems to be on your level when it came to writing back to you.

It always makes you feel giddy inside when he writes back to you. Re-reading every syllable. Caressing the ink that was clearly carefully written with such consideration with each word he used, you couldn't help but feel as though he was hinting to you about something.

You scoffed; shaking the thought away. Who were you trying to fool? This was the Rook Hunt you were thinking about! He's like this with everyone. Besides—why would he go for someone who had a defect? To say the least, you weren't insecure with your disability but, thinking about the blonde hunter who seemed to always cross your mind whenever you wrote—you couldn't help but feel your heart tightening in your chest from such thoughts.

In the end, why would he choose you? You're nothing special, far from it anyway. You're just someone who could never hear and someone who just writes to communicate. But, even then, you were still wrapped around his fingertips. And besides—it doesn't hurt to hope, right?

You felt a hand placed on your shoulder, you froze. You had never stayed still like a statue so fast in your entire life until now. What? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind right now—was it another of the students who were here to once again chuck balled up papers again? Take your poems away from you and ripped them to pieces or flames it until there's nothing left but ashes?

"Awww, what's this? Another one of your silly stories?"

"Look! It's another one of their love poems!"

"Pathetic if you ask me."

You didn't focused on them, you never even knew what they were saying, and you could care less what insults or degrading comments they were spewing from their filthy mouth. Your knees on the ground while clutching onto what was remains of the paper you once cherished. And they tore it all up like it was nothing.

Shuddering from the memory, you closed your eyes and continued to look at your lap; prepared for whatever torture they were gonna do to you again. Tore your poems? Throw paper at you? Mocking at you while you cry in tears because they had nearly killed you? What else did they had in store for you?

You gripped the paper even harder, shutting your eyelids even tighter if that was even possible. You were scared.

Huh.

You felt a piece of paper slid onto your lap, hesitantly, bit by bit, you forced your eyes to open to see what it was. Was it an insult written in a letter? If so, then you're surprised that they were even intelligent enough to finally realized that you had a hearing disability instead of using their vocals to try and insult you.

But no, it was not anything you expected or thought. Instead, your vision was blessed with a familiar handwriting. Subconsciously, you read what was was written on the white letter that graced your sight, and goodness it always doesn't fail to make your blood rushing through your face. By the sevens, how does he always make you feel this way?

Why such a blue face? You don't need to be ashamed of such a heartache; If you need someone to wipe your tears, my heart will gladly volunteer; What you consider flaws, is what I consider perfection —

Mon Cherie, you are the belle of my dairy heart, You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips; I will never let go of the string that wraps around my wrist; That connects me, to you.

My heart beats loudly; even you could hear it— If your heart longs for anything, Mon cherie, just write to me; And tell me all your silly sorrows. -Rook Hunt

Though it was short and simple, you couldn't help but re-read the words every now and then. You smiled seeing the words written on the paper. How could you not? His words sweet like candy, it was addicting in a way even you were worried you wouldn't get enough of it. Or maybe it's too late for you.

Your heart started racing so fast you thought even you could hear it. The more you examined the poem the more it started to look like a love confession. But it couldn't be that, could it? You so badly wanted to hope that you had a chance but you didn't want to get your hopes up.

You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips.

Those lines, shit, you couldn't help but swoon over them. Clutching the poem, you finally gazed at the author with wonders and hope. He smiled at you and signed those three words you've been waiting to see.

"I love you."

Was it even possible for your heart to be beating faster than it was before? You held the poem closer to your beating heart, trying to conceal it; worried he might hear it. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. You sighed dreamily and thanked your heart for choosing him.

Meanwhile, Rook chuckled seeing your flustered expression. He found beauty in all things whether it was considered good or bad to others. But he found you the most beautiful of them all. He won't lie, he fell for you hard when he saw you. Because even when he learnt about your flaw, it didn't matter to him; you were still the fairest of them all. You weren't able to hear his words—but that's alright; he'll gladly write thousands or more letters if it meant to show you just how much he loves you.

He'd gladly and happily dance in hot and burning shoes if it meant to show you his devotion to you, just to show how much he cares for you. And if anyone were to make you doubt? Let's just say they wouldn't be coming closer to you anymore if they caused you pain. But before that, he'd come and comfort you, with words written on paper just so all your worries would go away.

Even if his fingers start to go numb and bruises appear, he won't stop until he finally sees you smile. He's glad that his heart chose you.

END

Wow! Uhm, heyy ik it's been awhile but I finally found enough inspiration to make this! Again sorry it's been awhile I've been so busy that I barely found any time to write at all, but I do hope you guys liked this!

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 29 – Alfie Solomons

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 29 🩶 praise

Warnings: 18+, oral (f), outdoor

Alfie Solomons x fem!reader (900 words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

“Mhm, my pretty flower, I could get used to this sight.” Alfie’s voice filled the afternoon air, forcing her eyes to flutter open, flickering towards his smiling features. (Y/n) couldn’t help but chuckle at her husband, shaking her head as she stretched her hand out for him to take.

“Don’t act as if you haven’t seen me sit out here before, Alfie. But maybe if I’d see you around here more often you’d get to enjoy me some more.” He bent down to press a kiss to her lips, swallowing the sound of her giggles. Alfie’s beard scratched her skin as he deepened the kiss, unable to bite down his satisfied hum. 

The sun was burning from the sky, filling both with heat, a comforting sensation that made their hearts beat calmly, relishing in the silence the calm July afternoon offered them. Before she could even try to part from her husband, (y/n) felt his hands fumble with the fabric of her dress, fingers tapping her waist.

“You’re right, doll, yeah, I should be home more often. I’ve missed my wife, can I get a taste?” His raspy voice left her shuddering in anticipation, body covered in goosebumps. He sank to his knees, kneeling on the blanket (y/n) was sitting on, pushing her back down before she could respond. 

The fabric of the blanket left (y/n) feeling comfortable and protected as Alfie shifted around, forcing the fabric of her dress up to her waist, pulling her undergarments down her legs before he nestled between her thighs, “Look at you, such a pretty cunt, how could I ever let you out of my sight, huh?”

The praises leaving Alfie made her gasp, unable to speak up, unable to ask if he really wanted to do this out here, in their garden. All she could do was moan, hands fisting the fabric of the blanket to try and stay grounded. Her heart was racing, blood rushing, toes being forced to curl as Alfie’s breath met her exposed cunt.

“You’re dripping, doll, you love when I praise you, don’t you? You love being good for me.” A breathy “I do” left (y/n), a sound that was interrupted by a gasp as Alfie plunged two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls. It had been days since Alfie had last touched her like this and yet her body couldn’t help but welcome his fingers, finding pleasure in the stretch of her walls, in the feeling of his fingertips nudging her swollen spot.

With the sun burning down on her features, (y/n) felt herself growing warmer, making sweat pearl on her forehead, body begging her to get rid of her other clothes. She knew that this was only the beginning, that he would take her up to their bedroom after he was done with preparing her for his cock. 

“Fuck, Alfie, want your mouth, please.” Alfie’s chuckles left her cheeks burning, unable to pay attention to the smirk he wore on his lips as his tongue brushed through her folds, collecting drops of her arousal. He moaned against her cunt, sucked on her pulsing bundle of nerves as he kept fucking her with his thick, ringed fingers. The gold clinging to his skin felt cool against her heat, making a whirlwind of different sensations thump through her veins. 

He ate her out with his eyes focused on her features, sure that this was the most beautiful sight his eyes ever got to take in, a masterpiece ancient painters have longed to create, though unable to succeed in doing so. She was his end and his beginning, making him feel reborn whenever she graced him with her moans clawing through her.

“Alfie,” the call of his name made him chuckle against her, enjoying that she was already close to letting go, that she was about to cum around his fingers any moment now. His fingers picked up their pace, mouth latching onto her clit, once again leaving her to arch her back off the blanket.

“Let go for me, pretty darling, my beautiful wife, I got you.” With another breathy moan leaving her, (y/n) came around his fingers, eyes rolling back into her head, fingernails about to claw holes into the fabric of the blanket. He lazily fucked her with his fingers for a few more seconds before he pulled away, moving up her body to press a soft kiss to her lips. Alfie looked at her for a few more seconds before he rose to his feet, hand stretched out for her to take, set on guiding her to their shared bedroom.

[tw1l1te]

Ask: Soft Yandere Hyrule?

Hyrule is under appreciated. Let's give him some lovin'!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

He sat on the carpet, watching you as you painted on a piece of parchment. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there, watching you, but he didn't care. He could die in the same position that he was sitting in right now and he'd be happy. Absolutely euphoric.

"Rulie, could you pass me the green?"

"Of course, Flower."

You blush at the name, regardless of the hundreds of times he called you that.

He hands you the small tube, your fingertips on his skin erupting him in flames. Even the smallest touches or bits of attention on him sent him to heaven. You were every sense of the word.

You returned painting on the parchment, stray locks of hair falling from your up-do. His hand twitched, wanting to tuck the hair behind your ear, but he would distract you from your masterpiece, so he stayed put.

The others were in the room, no doubt watching you paint as well how dare they even exist in the same universal plane as you, but you paid them no mind, hyperfocused on painting.

You stopped your movements, a small frown on your face. What's wrong? Do you need something? Are you tired? Is he distracting you? Are the others bothering you? Should he-

"Rulie, can I paint on your skin? This paint is safe to use on skin, it's made from plant pigments."

He didn't care if the paint was made from the blood of Hylia, he'd let you paint anything on him.

"Of course, you don't have to ask. Where do you want to paint?"

"Your arm?"

Without a word, he pulls up his sleeve, exposing his forearm to you. He watches as you dip the paintbrush into a deep teal, brushing off the excess droplets back into the paint jar.

How did even the most minuscule actions that you did seem so... angelic? So perfectly executed?

"Stay still, Rulie. I want this to look perfect."

It already does.

You painted in small strokes, tickling the small hairs on his arm. From his angle, he couldn't tell what you were trying to create, but he knew you'd shape it into something no less than flawless. You always did, regardless of how critical you were of yourself and your abilities.

His eyes never left your form, taking in your effortless beauty, even if you were still in your sleepwear.

He practically melted at the scent of you, light notes of violets and vanilla, a scent that he always associated with you.

"And.... done! What do you think, Rulie?"

He looks down at his arm, jaw dropping in awe at your piece.

It was a landscape of his Hyrule, the edge of the work littered with small violets.

Your favorite flower and his home, created on his own skin.

"Thank you, I... love it. I love you"

You give him a smile that sends him spiraling, hands clapping together.

"I'm so glad! You're my masterpiece now, Hyrule."

Your words echoed in his mind.

You're my masterpiece.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Li Zeyan’s Mundane Date (Eng Translation)

“I bet that you will still remember this day, this moment, even decades from now. Just like I will.”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 琐碎约会, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

──────────────

【Chapter 1】 

Big Screen: “In order to welcome this festival dedicated to love, our channel is presenting a special program named 《The Vow at Fingertip》.”

Big Screen: “We’ve collected a plethora of stories about the ring, exploring its deeper meaning beyond the ceremonial contexts…”

It’s early morning on Valentine’s Day, and the streets are already bustling with noise and excitement. Li Zeyan and I stand quietly at the entrance of the supermarket, watching the program previews displayed on the shopping mall’s large screen.

LZY: [laughs like a proud s/o ✊] Well, this is quite impressive. The prime spot throughout the whole day is going to be occupied by your show.

MC: Granted, it’s thanks to the sponsorship from the brand, but I’m really satisfied with this show.

LZY: In that case, let’s get through the checklist quickly and head back early to enjoy your masterpiece.

Finishing his words, he then takes my hand and leads me into the supermarket.

Given Li Zeyan’s personality, he had actually prepared the ingredients at Souvenir well in advance. But due to a phone call this morning, we had no choice but to make last-minute changes in our plans…

–

───── [FLASHBACK STARTS] ─────

Mr. Mills: Manager, sorry to trouble you so early in the morning.

Mr. Mills: While I was out for a walk just now, I saw a notice posted on the door of Souvenir stating that there’s a circuit malfunction in this area and the power has been out for the whole night.

Mr. Mills: I checked the refrigerator, and it seems those ingredients of yours may have gone bad.

LZY: [his voice really tends to drop to a different softness when he talks to Mr. Mills 🥺]  Thank you for taking the trouble. I’ll take care of it later.

Mr. Mills: But you prepared these for MC, right? Would you still be able to work out your plans for today?

Li Zeyan glances at me, who’s peering over from beside him, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

LZY: [while looking at you]  You don’t have to worry. I have a compensation plan in mind.

Watching as Li Zeyan ends the call, his expression composed, I hurriedly lean in and ask him about the situation.

MC: Did something happen at Souvenir? Should we go to the restaurant first and check it out?

LZY: It’s alright, let’s celebrate the festival first.

LZY: The menu won’t change, but we need to grab a few things to make up. I’ll make a quick trip to the supermarket later.

MC: I’ll come along with you!

–

───── [FLASHBACK ENDS] ─────

As each item from the list is placed into the shopping cart, I steal glances at Li Zeyan and study his completely unruffled expression, inwardly sighing to myself.

His plan fell through, and it even resulted in some damage. Yet, he hasn’t uttered a single word of complaint, appearing to have a well-thought-out plan in advance as always.

MC: [muttering] He certainly deserves the title of being the number one in emotional stability.

Li Zeyan seems to have heard my mumbling, prompting him to turn around and meet my gaze.

LZY: What’s the matter? Why are you zoning out?

MC: I was thinking, you are really good at switching your mood. If I were in your shoes and found out [MC’s Company Name] had run into some problem, I’d spend half a day just feeling upset.

LZY: Not like it’s something that can’t be remedied. What’s there to feel upset about?

LZY: It’s a nice holiday, and I don’t wish to see a certain dummy shooting her mouth off to the sky.

He gently lays his hand on top of mine and, together with the shopping cart, leads me forward.

LZY: If you zone out again, we won’t go to the snack section.

MC: I absolutely won’t! Let’s go, let’s go~

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】 

The warm music of the show flows through the room, but it’s soon drowned out by the clinking and clattering sounds from the kitchen.

MC: Is there anything else you need me to do, Boss?

LZY: Help me with the sauce.

In order to increase efficiency, I volunteer to help Li Zeyan and find myself busy following his instructions, frantically running around in circles.

LZY: Pass me the thermometer.

LZY: Set the stopwatch to one minute for me.

MC: Roger!

Ding––

The oven’s timer sounds, and I consciously put on the heat-resistant gloves and pull out the baking tray.

MC: Isn’t it time to turn the sweet potato tart?

LZY: Right. If it’s tricky to turn, try lifting a corner first to test it out.

MC: Uh… it does seem a bit tricky to flip.

With gentleness and cautiousness, I proceed to operate, afraid of ruining the shape Li Zeyan has crafted so meticulously.

As I reach the last three, a reminder sounds from behind me.

LZY: Turn them faster; don’t let the oven temperature drop too much.

LZY: Don’t worry so much about the shape. For a dummy, it’s tasting delicious is what matters more.

His voice, carrying with it a smile, alleviates my nervousness a little. I turn them over and slide the baking tray back into the oven.

With the oven resuming its operation, I breathe a sigh of relief and walk back to Li Zeyan’s side, taking a sip of water.

LZY: [laughs softly]  Tired?

MC: How could I be tired? I can handle this amount of work just fine.

MC: It actually feels like that cooking game we played before. Though, I wish we could have three heads and six arms… [1]

MC: Speaking of which, do things get this chaotic when you cook by yourself?

Li Zeyan puts the lid on the pot and turns down the heat, then rubs my head with his free hand.

LZY: It doesn’t seem as chaotic when I’m on my own without anyone “helping out.”

LZY: But my sous chef here has made quite a lot of progress; at least nothing got messed up.

MC: That’s because my boyfriend doesn’t only cook incredibly well, but he is also a generous mentor!

LZY: [chuckles teasingly] I was here simply trying to better the food I cook for a certain dummy. I did not realize she was secretly taking notes.

LZY: Since you’ve been learning well, tell me, what do we need to add when we take the lid off?

I freeze for a moment, not expecting that he’d really ask questions. Resorting to thinking on my feet, I quickly pounce on him and lock my arms around his neck.

MC: Well, naturally… adding a little extra love would make it even better!

I plant a kiss on his cheek, then swiftly dash away before he can react, turning up the volume of the show.

LZY: [laughs helplessly]  Running away when you can’t answer, huh?

MC: [giggling gleefully]  What did you say? The music is too loud, I can’t hear you clearly~

Shamelessly feigning ignorance, I stand in front of the TV, grinning while casually casting a glance at the progress of the show.

At this moment, the interview with a young couple begins. The girl raises her left hand towards the camera, showing off her wedding ring.

Girl (on the show): On the day my husband proposed, he hid the ring in a dessert, saying that the dessert that day was infused with a unique formula of love.

Girl (on the show): As a result, when I took a bite, I chomped directly into this “formula of love” and ended up breaking my tooth…

Girl (on the show): We had to rush to the emergency room in the middle of the night. The pain was so excruciating that I almost refused the marriage proposal right then and there.

MC: Pfft…

I can’t hold back my laughter and glance over at Li Zeyan, who’s just a short distance away.

MC: Did you hear that, restaurant manager? You should take this as a cautionary tale.

LZY: [chuckles helplessly]  It’s clearly the gluttonous dummy who should take this as a cautionary tale.

Just as I’m about to retaliate, the doorbell suddenly rings. I pull a face at Li Zeyan and hurry off to answer the door.

Delivery Guy: Excuse me, is this Mr. Li’s residence? I’ve got a Flash Delivery package for him.

I accept the rather sizable cardboard box, then curiously glance towards the kitchen.

MC: What did you order?

LZY: Why don’t you open it and find out?

I carefully open the box and find an unexpected item inside––

──────────────

[Tidbits]:

[1] It’s a reference to Li Zeyan’s “Home Visit Date!” 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

MC: “Chocolate fountain machine for home use”?

As I look at the name on the instruction manual, I read it out loud in surprise.

The supermarket’s holiday chocolates are already vying for attention with their romantic beauty, but I didn’t expect Li Zeyan to have an even more surprising design up his sleeves.

MC: Wow… isn’t this something you’d usually find only at hotels or fancy gatherings?

LZY: Mm-hmm. Given the unusual circumstances today, I’d have to slack off for now.

MC: “Slack off”?

Li Zeyan meets my puzzled gaze and places the machine on the table, then proceeds to gesticulate the patterns of the fountain.

LZY: Since it’s liquid, it simplifies the project by skipping several steps and can’t be stored. Once prepared, it’s only enough for a single serving.

LZY: If a certain someone has any objections, I’ll make a better one for you another day.

MC: Not only do I have no objections, but I also want to “redress injustices” on behalf of the chocolate fountain.

I wedge myself between him and the bar counter, pretending to be angry as I place my hands on my hips.

MC: How could you ever consider something as amusing and creative as this chocolate fountain as “slacking off”?!

MC: Moreover, regardless of how simple the procedure may be, Restaurant Manager Li’s creations are always one-of-a-kind.

Li Zeyan gives me a look and curls his lips into a smile.

LZY: Seems like this choice has turned out to be exactly something a certain someone would’ve liked. Since you’re so interested, why don’t you join me in making it later?

–

The “home version” of the Valentine’s Day feast still lives up to Li Zeyan’s high standards. After having our fill of eating and drinking, we finally bring the chocolate fountain to the table.

I skewer a strawberry, coat it with chocolate sauce, and take a bite. The rich aroma of chocolate blends harmoniously with the strawberry’s fresh sweetness, causing me to squint my eyes as if  I were in paradise.

MC: So, so yummy!

LZY: Easy there; be careful not to let the chocolate sauce drip onto you.

Li Zeyan fetches a sheet of paper and places it on my lap, then takes a toothpick to help me skewer the strawberries.

A warmth blooms in my heart. I lean in and hug his arm.

MC: Every dish today has been a hit, plus there’s also a certain handsome guy winning over with his attentive service. I think I ought to give it at least a four-star Michelin rating.

LZY: Is that extra star a reward for yourself?

MC: Hehe, didn’t you just say earlier that your little sous chef did a good job today?

LZY: Indeed, and the dining experience was neater than usual, too.

MC: Those who are capable do the most work, and those who work most deserve extra serving at the table! [2]

Li Zeyan smiles as he listens to my nonsense and pushes a plate of chocolate-coated strawberries in front of me.

LZY: [the indulgence hhh]  Alright, “capable one,” today you’re allowed to have a little extra.

MC: Why are you giving them all to me? Aren’t you going to have a taste?

LZY: There’s a certain dummy who’s been looking forward to this for so long, so let’s let her have her fill first.

As I take another bite of a strawberry, I keep pondering which words to persuade him to taste it. When I look up, I find that Li Zeyan has had his eyes fixed on me the whole time.

MC: What’s wrong?

LZY: It’s nothing.

LZY: I was just thinking, with the sudden change of plans today, are you genuinely okay with it?

MC: It wasn’t something within our control. Besides, just the location got changed, that’s all.

LZY: But it did eat into our time, and we missed the beginning of your show.

MC: I didn’t realize CEO Li was looking forward to my show this much, huh?

LZY: [laughs helplessly]  I wonder who kept promoting it non-stop next to my ear every day.

Grinning, I lean sideways onto his shoulder and reach out to poke his cheek.

MC: You somehow pulled off such a complicated feast to make up for it. What could I have to be dissatisfied with?

MC: Besides, the most important thing today is to be glued to the person you like; it doesn’t matter even if the time hasn’t been used efficiently.

Picking up the dessert tray, I skewer a strawberry and feed it to him.

MC: In order to make you truly understand how I feel, I warmly invite you to taste the flavor of bliss for yourself. [3]

LZY: Dummy, you’ve already mentioned the “taste of bliss” at least five times today.

LZY: Why do I get the feeling that you always seem to find “bliss” in everything you eat?

MC: That conclusion seems to be a bit of a sweeping generalization.

MC: There may be an abundance of delicious food in the world, but there are only two kinds that can truly bring me a sense of bliss.

MC: Home-cooked meals made by family members and the food you prepare with love.

Li Zeyan takes the plate and gently holds my now-empty hand.

LZY: Was your father very skilled in the kitchen?

MC: He…

MC: He was too busy with work, so there weren’t many opportunities for him to showcase his skills… but the flavors in my memory are very warm; it was the taste of home.

LZY: No wonder a certain someone has a good palette; apparently, she was nurtured well since childhood.

MC: Hehe, but I believe happiness doesn’t just stem from the flavors; the particulars are crucial, too.

LZY: What do you mean?

MC: For example, when Dad came home late from work and would accidentally add too much salt to the quick dishes he prepared, we’d end up laughing it off together during the meal.

MC: For instance, when a certain someone’s own plans went awry, he still prioritized taking care of my feelings.

MC: Like when that certain person could have simply settled for making regular chocolate, but instead, he went out of his way to design a chocolate fountain.

MC: I’m not someone who eats anything at any place without preference. Restaurant Manager Li, please don’t get the wrong idea.

I wink at Li Zeyan. He stares at me for a while, then suddenly breaks the silence.

LZY: Do you know why Souvenir always gives you special privileges?

MC: Why?

LZY: Because while a certain person isn’t very skilled in cooking, she sure is an excellent eater, and she equally excels at “paying the debt for the free meals with her words.” [4]

MC: Nonsense! That’s called showing gratitude, alright!

Unwilling to back down, I stuff another strawberry into his mouth, blocking any potential retort.

MC: Some people’s sweet words don’t last more than three seconds. As punishment, I’ll make you eat more chocolate to make amends.

LZY: [laughs helplessly]  …Dummy.

──────────────

[Tidbits]:

[2] The original sentence said by MC here was “能者多劳, 劳者多吃!” The first part of it is actually an idiom: lit. meaning, “it’s the most capable people who do the most work.”  The idiom is intended as consolation for the overworked, or flattery when making a request etc. The second part is a word-play on the idiom, so I tweaked the translation to fit the play here!

[3] The term MC uses here is “幸福,” and I had to sit on this one for a while to use a term that is not too wordy but still carries a closer meaning to the CN term. While it essentially does refer to “happiness,” the term carries a deeper connotation than 开心 (happy) / 快乐 (joyful), which refer to short bursts of bright emotions. Whereas “幸福” refers to lasting, fulfilling happiness and holistic contentment~

[4] The term Li Zeyan uses here is “吃人嘴短,” which he’s cleverly re-generated from the proverb “吃人嘴软, 拿人手短” to get his message across efficiently. I’m just too tired to explain the inside joke here LOL, so I opted for a wordy translation to try to get the message across nonetheless.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

Host: Auntie, how do you usually store your ring?

Granny: Store it? I’ve never taken it off. I keep it on even when I’m working.

Granny: In our generation, we didn’t fuss over all those things. Besides, life inevitably keeps throwing urgent matters at you, so there’s little to no time to ponder over such matters.

While listening to the conversation on TV, I hand the last plate on the table to Li Zeyan.

After a quick rinse, he loads the plates into the dishwasher. Just as he straightens up, I hug him from behind.

MC: We just finished eating; why not rest for a while?

LZY: [chuckles indulgently] What? Are you saying eating can tire you out, dummy?

MC: …don’t you feel a bit sluggish after eating too much?

LZY: [that indulgent tone intensifies x10]  No wonder I feel like I’m carrying extra weight on my back.

Hearing the obvious laughter in his voice, I let out a couple of “hmphs” and continue to lean against his back without a care in the world.

LZY: A certain someone here has eaten her plate clean so thoroughly, lightening the load quite a lot, so this shouldn’t take too much time.

MC: That’s an essential skill for a Souvenir diner! But every time I see you being so diligent, I feel a tad embarrassed.

MC: It’s one thing not to procrastinate at work, but how can you not be lazy in your everyday life as well?

LZY: Wouldn’t it be more of a hassle if everything piled up at once?

LZY: Taking care of things immediately when they happen also helps avoid any unexpected complications.

Thinking back to how he methodically rearranged everything this morning, I can’t help but sigh with a twinge of envy.

MC: I’m so lucky to have you around; it’s what could make today so delightful.

LZY: Even after having to do so much work, you still consider it delightful?

MC: Yep! Cooking with you is like playing a game, but without the need to worry about failing any levels!

LZY: Dummy has a knack for turning any place into an amusement park.

MC: Then you’re the amusement park manager!

Li Zeyan finishes washing his hands, turns around, and boops the tip of my nose.

LZY: [in the softest of tones]  It seems that with you around, I’ll never have to worry about being unemployed.

LZY: Let’s go. Let’s focus on watching your show.

—

Li Zeyan pulls me to nestle into the couch. The show has now reached the interview segment, and the host is asking the elderly woman about the happiest moment of her life in the decades that have gone by.

Granny: If I had to choose one, it would be one night before going to sleep, when my husband touched the ring on my hand and said, “It’s all scratched up.”

Granny: When we calculated, we realized we’ve been wearing our rings for several decades.

Host: Those rings must be bearing many traces of life, wouldn’t you say?

Granny: Yes, that’s right. At first, I wanted to reprimand him, to show him how much work I’ve done. But then I touched his ring, and it was just the same.

Granny: At that moment, I suddenly felt, this person next to me has been by my side for a very long time.

I snuggle into Li Zeyan’s embrace, intertwining my fingers with his and stroking them.

MC: If it were the two of us, your ring would definitely be the one to wear out first.

LZY: Not necessarily; we also have to take into account a certain someone stirring up trouble and acting silly.

MC: Perhaps in a few decades, I’ll have grown smarter already!

LZY: Then let’s make a bet. We’ll see if you still remember this statement in a few decades.

MC: Alright, you’re on. But we’re both in this, so it wouldn’t be fair to put only me to the test.

LZY: Go on, what plan are you hatching now?

I roll my eyes and wriggle out of his arms.

MC: You watch the show; I’ll be back in a jiffy.

I trot over to the pantry and open one of the low cabinets. Owing to the Valentine’s Day themed program, I have received quite a few chocolates from our collaborators.

I take out the heart-shaped box placed at the top and return to Li Zeyan’s side.

–

MC: Li Zeyan, I have a small gift for you.

LZY: What, haven’t had enough chocolate yet?

Li Zeyan glances at the box in my hand, then raises an eyebrow at me. I smile but don’t say anything, opening the box and putting it into his hand.

MC: Hold on~ Let me do a magic trick for you first.

MC: Close your eyes, and then just pick any chocolate from inside.

LZY: [gentle, helpless chuckle]  What kind of stunt are you pulling this time?

Despite saying this, Li Zeyan still closes his eyes and follows suit. I take the chocolate he hands me and gently tear open the wrapper.

The golden foil paper is extremely delicate and prone to tearing if handled with even the slightest bit of carelessness. But by now, I’ve already become skilled enough to roll it up smoothly.

During the filming of this show, chocolate almost became our only snack. Every time I was on the phone with Li Zeyan, I would chat with him while casually rolling the candy wrappers.

I didn’t expect the “practice makes perfect” proverb to come to fruition like this, but inadvertently, I managed to craft this paper “ring.”

MC: Done! Now, extend your hand again.

He doesn’t seem to quite understand what my intention is, so he reaches into the box for another chocolate and hands it to me.

Seeing him so cooperative, I can’t help but laugh out loud, giving his fingertips a squeeze as I hold up the “ring” I have just created.

MC: You can open your eyes now!

–

LZY: …?

Li Zeyan looks at the small ring in my hand and blinks slowly.

LZY: [YOU CAN LITERALLY HEAR IN HIS TONE THAT HE’S CAUGHT OFF GUARD 🥹]   This is…?

MC: As you can see, an exclusively customized ring from 24-karat pure gold!

MC: Handcrafted from start to finish, Mr. Li Zeyan is the only one in the world who has the opportunity to own it.

Li Zeyan is momentarily taken aback, then glances at the torn-open chocolates on the table, before suddenly breaking into a smile.

LZY: Even such a brief moment as this is ample for your creativity to soar.

MC: I’ve been planning this for a long time. You can’t just whip up such a rare ring on the spot.

MC: Since you’ve made that bet with me, I must also reciprocate.

I straighten up and slowly slide the small ring onto his ring finger.

Li Zeyan’s gaze also remains fixated on my fingertips until the ring moves past his second joint, then he lifts his eyes to stare at me again.

Under the sunlight, those deep, enigmatic eyes of his shine even brighter, an expectation as clear as crystals surging within them.

I gaze fixedly at him, his cheeks now tinged with a gentle blush, and find myself unable to suppress the smile that steals across my lips.

MC: I bet that you will still remember this day, this moment, even decades from now.

MC: Just like I will.

After a few seconds of silence, Li Zeyan tosses the chocolate in his hand aside and tightly clasps my hand with his broad palm.

Seeing that he still hasn’t said anything, I press on and ask once more.

MC: How about it? Do you want to make this bet with me?

LZY: Sure, but…

Even before the words have fully left his mouth, a sudden force on my wrist yanks me towards him. I can’t help but cry out in surprise, only to find myself falling into his arms.

A warm breath immediately envelopes me as he locks me firmly in his arms, and I find myself slowly consumed by an intense yearning.

LZY: [nearly breathless] If you want me to remember, you’ll have to up the ante.

Without waiting for me to respond, he continues kissing me, effortlessly subduing any possible protest I could have.

Even after all this time, he still kisses me with the same uninhibited passion as he did the first time. The distant time and unspoken words all melt away in the gentle caress. [5]

The sound from the television gradually fades away, and the stories of others drift beyond my consciousness.

Even without this bet, I would find it impossible to forget this moment.

After who knows how long has passed, Li Zeyan gently releases me, lowering his head to rest his forehead against mine.

I look into his eyes, so close and within reach, and feel a surge of emotion in my heart.

MC: Li Zeyan.

LZY: Hm?

MC: Will you–– [6]

Before I can say anything further, he promptly raises his hand to cover my mouth.

LZY: [HIS PANICKED TONE HHHH]  Wait.

LZY: I’ve accepted the world’s most creative ring, but please don’t say anything more.

LZY: This is something that I should be the one to take care of.

I pause for a moment, then quickly understand what he meant, unable to suppress a laugh as I hold onto his hand.

LZY: Why are you laughing?

MC: Hahaha, although I really don’t want to spoil the atmosphere, but actually, I wanted to ask––

MC: Li Zeyan, will you wear this ring to work?~ ^^

───────────────

[Tidbits]

[5] Unnecessary, really, but still a refresher– it’s the callback to his first kiss aka “Dazzling Date.”

[6] Although obvious from Li Zeyan’s reaction, I still wanna clarify– he cut MC off when she had only gotten to “你愿不愿意—” (will you/ would you be willing to)-- and the rest of that sentence typically is “(will you) marry me” (你愿不愿意嫁给我吗), which is why LZY doesn’t even take any chances and goes, “nope not happening, I wanna do it” 😂❤️

───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

【Personal Ramblings】

Remainder of One’s Life Date: here!

─────────────────────────────────

[edenalieth]

i want to believe in forever

Pairing: Seungmin x reader

Genre: angst, hint of fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: Seungmin wants to move on from his heartbreak, however the colorful memories of you are holding him back. 

Words: 1.3K 

A.N: hello guys, cami in the building! it’s my first time writing a seungmin fic (@seungseung-minmin forgive me for not making a cuter one ;v;) it was mostly inspired by the song « the exit » by conan gray which i found really beautiful and true. sorry for the possible mistakes. hope you enjoy, feedbacks are always welcome! ♡ — 231217

He took another sip of the black coffee he was holding on his hand and grimaced. It was already half cold and far too bitter for his liking. For how long did he stare at those high limestone walls ? Apparently long enough for his coffee to turn bad. Spotting the closest bin, he threw the drink away, watching it fall as the lid opened spreading the brown liquid. The winter breeze made him shiver and he buried his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat, trying to warm them up. 

« You can do this, Kim Seungmin », the brown haired boy thought to himself. 

He climbed the stairs silently until he reached the ticket office. A young girl was reading. She was probably just starting her university course and needed this job to gain some money seeing her bored expression. She barely looked at Seungmin before nonchalantly putting down her book with a barely hidden sigh. 

« What can I do for you ? » she asked, visibly annoyed to be interrupted. 

Seungmin cleared his throat « Hmm, one adult ticket please. » 

He was tapping on the small counter with his fingertips, nervous. He was about to tell her that he had changed his mind and turn around but he had promised himself he would do this. It was necessary. Even if it hurt. He knew, he needed to detach his mind and feelings from this place and many others. 

« What is this book about ? » he said, trying some small talk while she was preparing the ticket. She put one out of the drawer of her desk and handed it to him, announcing the price. « Just a regular thriller. » Nothing more, nothing less. He paid and left without further ado. He was sure that, if you had been there, you would have managed to pick that girl’s interest, even just a little. That’s how you were, solar, attracting people around you like a magnet. However, you hadn’t been by his side for months now, he had to move on. 

When he entered the familiar hall, he was greeted by the unique scent of museum and all its splendor. Soon, he was surrounded by history and felt so little and insignifiant, as well as mesmerized by the beauty of those masterpieces he had seen so many times with you. When you used to call yourselves « us », you had made a ritual to visit this place once a month. The museum was big enough for you to always discover small details you hadn’t seen before or to explore the temporary exhibition. Since your breakup, he avoided this place like the plague. Yet here he was, feeling his heart clenching as he looked at the paintings. One of your favorite hobby was to tell him stories when you analyzed a canvas. Your imagination was overflowing and never missed to make him laugh, which sometimes made you incur the wrath of the visitors and security. No one was here to make him laugh today and loneliness weighed heavily on his shoulders. He didn’t have this talent. He would just skim through the description next to it. Colors seemed dull compared to the vivid memories of you, scarring his heart mercilessly. He felt his throat getting tight. He had chosen the museum to start his healing journey because he knew he wouldn’t be able to cry without being heard. He had shed tears more than he would even admit. Was it truly helping though ? Or what is it just him blowing on the embers of your lost love. 

He sat down on the leathered bench, facing your favorite art. It was a pretty simple one, a cottage on the countryside, using impressionism technique. The first time you saw it, you went strangely quiet. You were like absorbed by it. He remembered how you leaned on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his. « I can picture us living there. » you had softly whispered. « It would be the embodiment of our love, our safe place. Growing old together, laughs of our kids and grand-kids filling the rooms. Am I allowed to dream about this ? » your voice had seemed insecure, seeing you vulnerable like that was rare. « Yes and it will be our dream from now on. » he had replied, brushing his nose against yours before tenderly kissing you. Warmth had filled his body, his heart melting like ice under a scorching sun, your touch permanently marking his skin. A dream. Was it all it had been ? Just something made up by his cruel mind ? No. He still could remember the sensation of your skin on his, the scent of your shampoo, the little habits you had, the sound of your giggle. 

Recalling these memories was like torture. The grip he had on the bench became stronger, his knuckles turning white. If only he had noticed how left out you felt sometimes. Maybe, you would be next to him, still daydreaming about your perfect house. Or, perhaps, you just weren’t meant to build one together. This thought turned his vision into blurry shapes. « Shit ». He didn’t want to cry in public. He stood up hastily and looked for the exit. Wandering between the corridors, his steps echoing on the cold ground, the artworks seemed like moving stains. It was as if the walls were tightening around him and he was tempted to rush out of here to get some air. However, his run was abruptly stopped when the object of his obvious desire showed up. You. 

You were there. Your arm around the waist of someone who wasn’t him. His mind went blank for a second. It couldn’t be, right ? He swallowed the sobs that were trying to escape his throat, his hands shaking. He thought you were both sharing the same wounds, that you were still mourning your old feelings. His were surely not buried yet. Still, there was no mistaken. You looked happier now and you had already found someone to miss. He wanted to let himself drown into the abyss of his sorrow. He almost called out your name, every single letter which used to roll on his tongue like honey, addictive like a drug, tasted sour. He had to leash his heart not to break down and try to get you back again. He had tried but you already had built up a wall to protect your opened wounds. His were still raw. 

Were you going to tell this man the same stories you had told him ? Did your « I » became a « we » when you met him ? In fact, he didn’t want to know. He wanted to forget you for a time, to get strong enough to be able to talk about you as a young love that bloomed too fast and wilted in the process. He couldn’t blame you for getting everything you wanted. 

He stared at you, as your eyes spoke for you, full of some love that used to be his. Each step you took leading you towards your ideal. Deep down your heart, feels for Seungmin were still waiting to be set on fire again. However, the ones you had for your new lover were stronger and you wanted to cherish them. It was a painful sight for Seungmin and he wished someone would rip his heart for it to get numb. He had to let you go. He was still standing at the exit before he opened the glass door. 

Immediately, the cold bit his flesh, tears rolling down his cheeks and burning his skin. 

« I want to believe in forever » he thought, you just weren’t meant to be his. 

[kingthunder]

Prompt for Geralt and Jaskier: “God I hate you” & “Prove it.” I know you’ll make a masterpiece (like all of your work)!!💜

Rience plays with him. Rience hits him. Rience lights a flame, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and all Jaskier can do is burn.

.

Jaskier isn’t quite the same afterwards. The non-essential parts of him have gone up in smoke and what’s left is this: he has found out in the most intimate way possible that when it’s time for hurting—when the very meat of him is black and charred and he can taste the smoke of his own fat on the back of his tongue—that even then he cannot redirect the hurt onto Geralt. He’ll take it all and fold it up inside him and keep Geralt safe, even though Geralt didn’t do the same for him.

He wants to be angry about it. He wants to scream his righteous fury to the skies. Hell, he’s been doing that for a year already, in every tavern that will let him through the door, insisting that he wants Geralt to burn, burn, burn for what he did to Jaskier’s heart.

Only he isn’t angry anymore. He’s burned enough for the both of them. He’s just tired and lonely and misses his friend and wonders, like pushing on a bruise, if Geralt misses him too.

He wants Geralt to miss him too.

.

Later, when everything has gone to hell and back and the dust has settled, Geralt comes to Jaskier’s room in Kaer Morhen.

“We can’t stay,” Geralt says. “I was trying to keep Ciri safe, but all I did was put everyone else in danger. I need to take her somewhere where she can be trained properly.”

Jaskier doesn’t know who Geralt means when he says “we.” It’s been weeks since they hugged through three inches of creaking leather and metal, and in that time he has yet to figure out if he’s still included in Geralt’s life or if the shapes they’ve been broken into don’t fit together anymore. He’ll love Geralt the same regardless, but he needs to guard his heart.

“I wish you the best,” Jaskier says, thrusting his hand out for Geralt to shake.

Brow furrowed, Geralt takes it. Then he turns Jaskier’s hand palm up and says, “What’s this?”

His thumb is running over the scars Rience left.

“It’s nothing,” Jaskier says.

“It’s something.”

So Jaskier tells him, because he could never really deny Geralt anything. His words are dispassionate, a simple recounting of events, but what he means is, I love you. What he means is, I’d do it again but please don’t make me. Describing the depths of his one-sided devotion, even in such dry terms, leaves him aching and raw, and by the end of it he can’t stop his chin from quivering.

He’s clenched his hand into a white-knuckled fist without realizing it. Slowly, Geralt unbends each finger. He presses a kiss to the middle of Jaskier’s palm and Jaskier’s nostrils flare with the effort of holding in a sob.

“Stop,” Jaskier says.

Geralt stops but doesn’t let go of Jaskier’s hand. He says, “Thank you for keeping Ciri safe.”

“Did a pretty shit job of that in the end, didn’t I?”

Jaskier’s chin is still quivering.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again,” Geralt says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How was I supposed to do that?” Jaskier says helplessly. “Oh hello Geralt, nice seeing you after all this time, I know you hate my guts right now, but by the way, someone tortured me for information about you, just thought you should know, cheers, mate.”

“I don’t hate your guts.”

“Yeah, well you did a pretty good impression of it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not…good at feelings.”

“He’s sorry, he says. And no, you’re not. Good at feelings, that is—oh bloody hell.” 

Geralt has started kissing Jaskier’s fingertips one by one. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs between each one.

 “God, I hate you,” Jaskier says, whimpering. “You just do whatever you bloody want, don’t you?”

Geralt pauses and looks up at Jaskier, eyes troubled.

“Do you not want this?”

“I do,” Jaskier says. “Gods help me, I do, but I  won’t give myself away so cheaply again, witcher. You have to want it, too. You have to really want it, with every poorly articulated feeling in that whole gorgeous body of yours.”

Geralt’s voice is rough. “I do.”

Jaskier cups Geralt’s cheek with his scarred hand and says, “Prove it.”

Geralt kisses him. It’s everything Jaskier has ever wanted and it’s not—quite—enough.

“Prove it,” Jaskier says again, breathing hard, his forehead rocking against Geralt’s. “Prove it,” he whispers, drawing back a fraction as Geralt’s lips chase his.

“I’m trying.”

“Not like that.”

Geralt pulls back far enough to look at him. After a moment of silence, Geralt says, “Come with us. Me and Ciri and Yen. Come with us. Then you can let me prove it every day. I’m tired of missing you.”

Jaskier smiles and finally lets Geralt kiss him again. Melts into it and kisses him back, warm and soft. He feels seen. Wanted. The hurt deep inside him dislodges itself and he thinks, for the first time in a long time, that it's possible to be happy again.

“That’s a good start,” Jaskier says.

[cuffmeinblack]

Overture

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader drabble

Tags: public fingering

A/n: Whilst I wait for a full length literary masterpiece by @anto-pops, I wrote this drabble in worship of Ominis' hands, inspired by @xantineverdoer. I'll add it to my drabbles for his voice and beauty marks, I guess.

Ominis was clothed from neck to toe, his smart three-piece suit tailored to perfection. Even his extremities were wrapped in cloth so divine that the threads glided effortlessly across your skin, seemingly perusing every peak and trough of the goosebumped flesh as he made his agonisingly slow ascent. You should have been paying attention to the opera in front of you, but instead your seclusion in the dressing circle's private box had invited Ominis' attention to wander, pulling yours along with it. The gentle and solemn warbling from the stage was just background noise to the real performance taking place beneath your skirts.

He didn't merely glide his hand straight up your body, Ominis enjoyed taking his time—this was his overture, a promise of things to come. His limbs flexed, fingertips pressed and kneaded, contorted around the curve of your thigh. You licked your lips wantonly at the sight. Another inch and you might get a sliver of relief from this delectable torture. The urge to shuffle down into the velvet seat to meet those fingers was overwhelming, but you knew that Ominis would never allow it. This bodily worship was on his terms, and how could you refuse when he offered the very pinnacle of your desires? He was no fool; from the beginning of your courtship it had been obvious how enamoured you were with his hands; those dexterous digits of beauty-marked porcelain stoked in you a fierce flame of lust that was hard to hide and utterly shameful.

Yet he didn't shy away from the hitches in your breath when he pulled on his dress gloves of pure white cotton that evening, only wore a knowing smirk as he ran a knuckle down your cheek. The result had been a gentle whimper that fell from your lips from the mere suggestion. Perhaps later he'd deign to remove his gloves, feel the heat of your skin and appreciate the product of his teasing. For now, his face remained impassive, a show for any curious members of the audience who might wonder what type of person occupied the lavish seats. Your own face was harder to compose, eyes darting to watch the gentle squeeze of his fingers, the press of his palm as it finally, mercifully met your aching heat. The cotton enrobing him was saturated by your arousal with only a delicate touch, the pressure sending ripples through your abdomen.

Ominis' façade cracked then, a self-satisfied smile crossing his lips. Finally, his head turned, though your eyes were fixed on his fingers now languidly drawing circles between your legs. Every precise and practiced stroke, every swirl of those delicate digits wrote a sensual tale of delectation into your skin. His other hand had come to rest gently on your neck after banishing your hair with a swift brush, your pulse quickening to greet his palm. You leaned into him, relishing the pressure, the quiet scratch of fabric meeting skin. Still you watched him coaxing forth your release as he leaned closer to your ear, hot breath against your neck, unable to look away for one second.

"I believe my gloves are quite ruined. Would you like me to take them off?"

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

By The Poolside

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || You can’t help but drool over your man as he emerges from the pool like the sex God he is. His delicious muscles dripping and glistening with water has you wanting to lick him all up like the tasty snack he is.

Word Count || 937

Contents & Warnings || Smut & slight Fluff — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, sexual thoughts, slight Sub!Bucky, pet names (doll, baby), oral (male receiving), grinding, begging, body worship, praise kink, slight nipple action, teasing, cum swallowing, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || It’s not perfect but I wanted to do a “summer” inspired fic, but of course being me, it has to be smutty :P

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

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Mykonos, Greece || 1.37 PM || 32 °C

It was such an unbearable hot day today that the only logical thing for you and Bucky to do on the last day of your trip was to swim and lounge by the private pool that came with your hotel suite—shielded from the scorching sun and the other tourists.

You were laying on the sun bed in your pretty bikini, with a book in hand, while Bucky was swimming laps in the pool to cool himself down and get in his daily workout.

Every once in a while, you would sneak a peek at him from the top of your book—observing how his powerful and muscular arms drove him forward in the pool with each stroke.

Bucky was such a God of a man in every aspect—physique, sex, kindness, and everything else in between. You were so blessed and lucky to have someone like him you could call yours—your best friend, lover, partner, family.

But right about now, all you could think about was the sex God aspect of him as you enjoyed the show in front of you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Your pussy screamed as he emerged from the pool in slow-mo like they do in movies. The water dripping down his toned and muscular body had your pussy dripping as well. His arm muscles became more defined and pronounced as he pulled himself up by the handles on the pool ladder. The vibranium arm was shining as the sun reflected on the metallic surface.

And his abs… absolutely delicious. You wanted to run your fingers from his chest and down his abs—feeling every crevice of the muscles underneath your fingertips… and then feel him down even further.

He combed his fingers through his hair, making it slick back, as he approached the sun beds. He noticed your ogling eyes at him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your expression—like you were looking at the most perfect masterpiece that ever existed (which you were).

“Like what you see, doll?”

“Mhm.”

“Well,” he plopped down on the bed next to yours and gestured to his body, “it's all yours, baby.”

Yeah, it was—all yours to take and taste as you pleased.

You got up from your bed and straddled him. Legs on each side of his hips while your clothed core came in contact with his covered bulge. Bucky moaned when you found your place on him. His colossal hands took a tight grip on your luscious thighs.

“You look so pretty in your bathing suit, doll….”

His hands travel from your thighs, over your hips until they reach your waist. His touches made shivers run down your spine. You slowly start to rock back and forth on his clothed cock—moaning at your clit being stimulated and him letting out a grunt as his cock hardened beneath you. Bucky’s hands find their final resting place on your ass, gripping the flesh tightly, aiding your movements on him.

“…and so sexy like the fucking Goddess you are.”

You leaned down to kiss him, tasting his tongue against yours. “I want to taste you, all of you, Bucky,” you whispered against his lips. The tip of your tongue poked out to lick his bottom one.

Bucky closed his eyes in delight as you graced his jawline with your lips and peppered kisses on the tender spot of his neck before you began your journey downwards.

You gave each of his nipples a kitten lick, making a groggy groan sound in his throat. You giggled at how responsive he was to your touches.

“You want me to keep going?”

“Oh, p-please, doll.”

You continued down his torso, altering between licking and kissing his wet skin as you went lower and lower—towards the end goal. Your fingertips slowly traced his muscles as you went along.

“Oh, Bucky,” you found a comfortable place between his legs—face inches from his clothed cock and your ass poking out behind you, making Bucky have the best view of his life, “already so hard for me? I barely touched you,” you teased.

You wasted no time taking off his swimming shorts—wanting to see his full and hard cock. He always had you in awe, never getting used to how perfect he was for you.

Bucky let out a long, satisfying sigh as you grabbed his base and licked his tip to collect the pre-cum with your tongue.

Not wasting any more time, you took his whole length into your mouth, making Bucky suck in a deep breath. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked him like a delicious icy popsicle. His hand rested on your head as he slightly forced you down with each stroke. His eyes struggled to keep open to watch you work that magic on him.

You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his spine, making him shiver on the sun bed. You loved having him on your tongue as much as he did—living for his taste.

As you bobbed your head on him, hand fondling his balls, his sensitive tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly sent him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he deeply cried as his cum coated the inside of your mouth—trickling down your throat. You didn't stop until he was completely satisfied—swallowing every single drop of him.

His cock left your lips with a pop, and he groaned when you showed him your empty cavity—no trace of him left.

“You taste so good, baby.”

You grinned up at him while he had the biggest smile on his face—so happy and content.

“You're so incredible, doll, you know that?”

“I know.”

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