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alienpossession · 7 days

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Another continuation of the Dubai alien series

The model-bodybuilder Sander woke up from his proper sleep feeling refreshed. He opened the curtain to let the sunshine in as he walked around his apartment with no clothes whatsoever. After quick stretching session and several minutes of posing in the mirror, he walked past his sleeping bodyguard. He got the bodyguard as part of the scheme he worked on with the Prince as the alien that is now residing inside Sander has too close of an attachment with this particular bodyguard back when he was still a Prince, so he asked the new Prince to allow the bodyguard to be working for him still.

Sander wakes the bodyguard up, and with no hesitation, the fresh-from-slumber bodyguard quickly kneel and started kissing Sander's pubes. His tongue quickly explored the bushy and musky hair of his beloved Master before gently gliding across the veinous shaft of the bodybuilding powerhouse. Sander grunted in approval as his half-chubbed up cock started to snake into its full length, the tip emerged from the foreskin as it revealed its massive mushroom-head form that the bodyguard quickly serviced with his slick tongue. When he eventually made the move to let the 7.5 inches girthy monstrosity entered his mouth, Sander lost in euphoria as he grabbed the head of the bodyguard and jackhammered his cock deep into his throat. The majestic payload quickly released in the matter of minutes, making the devout bodyguard's throat slick with cum and his face looking like he's some kind of cum-guzzling twink when he is in fact a highly-trained martial artist and marksman that would never kneel to anyone, let alone allowing his face painted with sticky, salty cum. Satisfied, Sander gently tapped the bodyguard's face and then give him one big kiss before heading to the shower to clean himself

Sander of course didn't shower and instead basked in his glorious reflection and musky body odour.

He's going to the gym anyway so he can just shower later after his workout, so with no effort to clean himself thoroughly, he just wiped away some of the drying cum all over his body before donning his workout clothes

When he arrived at the gym, he started to put on the work, putting his muscle under so much stress, the veins started to pop and his grunts become increasingly louder as he racked up more weights and intensity to all his routine. As he just finished with hitting his personal best deadlift and decided to call it a day, he returned the massive weights to the rack and that's when his eyes caught on the two young studs he has not yet converted.

Newcomer? Tourist? Yeah, seemed like a fine looking pair of fit tourists. Based on the language spoken, these tourists came from Turkey but the way they talked, there's that unmistakably Germanic tonality to it, so....Turkish diaspora living in Germany then? Well, no need to guess, he will find out by himself when he shoves the slugs later to takeover their young brain.

So, what is the Prince really up to while his operatives worked to convert people left and right?

Prince Rashid, the eldest son of the local mid-level nobility, is looking at the alien as its tail-end finally slithered inside and left no traces behind. Then, he gently closed his tanktop back and smirked

"It's good to be back,"

The younger prince, who was practically responsible for the mass takeover of his own family, hugged his older brother as he then handed him his thobe to cover him more in-line with what an Emirati nobility should wear

"Good to have you with me here. Thanks for the fun night, it's been a while since we bonded, don't you think?"

"Will do anything for my younger bro. So, you will take care of them and all the clean-up?"

"Yeah, watch,"

The 9 Insta-hotties the young Prince called for the night suddenly wake up from their sleep and started to stand up as if they were some military recruits or something with their posture all straight and stiff. All this happened despite the fact that they were asleep soundly just mere seconds ago.

"Go clean up the apartment, whores. After that, get the fuck off from here and maybe start being useful and start marking all the men you all deemed worthy of my attention, understand?"

"Yes, my prince," all of them said in unison, their brain already fried by the slug and turned into bunch of bimbo puppets. Prince Rashid just laughed out loud

"Amazing, my Prince. Very amazing. I wish you would be generous enough one day to use my body to give such command, you know I'm more brutal than my younger brother. I'm quite the abusive jerk, even to my harem, let alone European whores like them,"

"Well, respectfully, I'm not really into all that. Besides, what's the point of you being all mighty and aggressive when you cannot even defend yourself by the end and turned into mere puppets anyway? Go get back home to your wife and kids before I humiliate you further, I don't want to see you anymore tonight," the tone of the young Prince quickly turned sharp with anger as he felt like his own subject dared to question his power and how far he could take things

The possessed Prince Rashid tried to be playful as he lightly punched the young prince on his shoulder while saying

"That's not how a younger brother addre---"

"Just get the fuck out before I make you soil your clothes with gallons of cum till your balls dry, I'm not in the mood for jokes," threatened the main alien using its real, coarsed voice. The older prince quickly retreated himself out from the penthouse in fear of triggering his progenitor's anger, while the younger prince sighed, feeling like in need of a new learning adventure and a form that will be more respected or provided him with excitement and thrilling life choices. That's when he remembered about the intel he already asked for Steven Barnett and all the preparation in regards to his takeover. Yup, that sounds hella tasty, slipping inside the son-in-law of an active General with strategic position in the United States? Maybe it's about time he executed the transference, it's been almost 2 weeks that Steven and his wife spent their time here, it wouldn't be too long before his return to the states. Looking at his phone, 5:44 AM, there's definitely still enough time for him to make the move right around this morning. But, it means he should really share the directives to the puppets all at once, the Prince cannot risk Steven to be able to get away from this. As the Prince stretched his body, he then sits down and decided to concentrate and pulling all the available memories from all the puppets that could be useful for the plan to succeed

As expected, Steven walked into the trap set-up by the aliens as he went to the gym recommended by them, not knowing it's basically a hub for puppets

The gym is surprisingly quiet despite the fact that it's morning in the weekend, but Steven is definitely not complaining. In fact, it makes the whole thing so much easier for him as he spent all his time to workout and not wasting time with some small talks with his friends. Yes he can comfortably called them friends, but it's not always fun to always have this sense of obligation to talk to them or mingle with them when the focus is supposedly the workout, so the quietness is a welcome change, especially noting the fact that he's about to go back home to the States very early in the morning

8.50 AM and the gym is still hella empty, except a few people that he never met previously. Probably some infrequent gymgoer judging from their body shapes, but hey, it's not like he needed to judge them. After putting all the weights back to its rack, he strutted to the locker room and started stripping. He kicked off his rank, size 15 shoes away to reveal a very sweaty socked feet, which he also quickly took off and tossed to the corner of the locker room. He scrunched up his nose, he should grab that foot spray he saw yesterday in the supermarket later before heading back to the hotel. Then, he stuffed his drenched tanktop that clung to his massive body and the sweat-soaked sweatpants to his duffel bag, only leaving his sweaty underwear on as he decided to cool down a bit while doing some posing practices

Enamored by the ripple of his own muscles and the music he blasted, Steven didn't realize the swarm of men that carefully entered the locker room, led by Craig and Olly. Steven practically posed in the far-end corner of the massive gym locker room and the rows of lockers blocked his view and hearing until it's too late.

Olly was the first that made the move as his sudden appearance slightly surprised Steven. The young blondie quickly apologized and acted normally as if he just arrived for a workout while complimenting Steven's pumped physique. Then, things take a wild turn when Olly decided to say that he wanted to get a taste of Steven's sweaty ass. That surprised Steven even more as he chuckled it off trying to pass it as some crude jokes, but when Olly literally stared at him like he's some kind of prey, Steven quickly reacted with anger on how he would never swing that way and he's not gonna let any man get close to his ass or dick! To his surprise, Craig, Olly's stepbrother, grabbed Steven's ass from behind which caused the much-bigger Steven to yelp in surprise. That's when Olly marched on as his stepbrother tried to held Steven's hand. Steven fought off the two brothers and even managed to slam Olly to one of the locker before trying to make his escape. But the severity of the situation and the dawning realization that he wouldn't be able to get away from here quickly engulfed him when he's faced with the reality as swarm of fit bodybuilders and gymgoers blocking his way from both ends. He tried to reason with them, asking them to let him go and start thinking rationally, but all effort went futile as their mission were clear, to convert him per the direction of the Prince.

"Convert me to what? Islam? Fuck, are you kidding me? All this just because of some religious fanaticism?"

One of them then said

"Oh no, Steven, it's better than that,"

Alarm bells quickly rang inside Steven's mind when all the men that surrounded him smirked devilishly as they opened their mouth and then spit out some gooey black slug from their mouth to their hands. As Steven's started screaming for help, all the men tried to muffle his mouth as they thrown and even shoved the slimy black slug down Steven's throat. His scream quickly drowned by the loud cheers of men that witnessed all the slug entered Steven's body from his mouth, nose and ears and quickly trembled as the alien seized control of his brain. But, the men quickly moved over as the Prince tried to approach the convulsing Steven. He already arrived at the gym and simply cannot wait to transfer. As the Prince retched out copious amount of black slug, the one that entered Steven's whole system earlier also moved out from his body as it did its purpose already to paralyze Steven temporarily. The slugs returned back to their respective bodies while the Prince slug slithered through Steven's gaped mouth and flared nostrils. After another seizure as the slug established control over his brain, Steven opened his eyes a brand new man

Add: I think this sort of act as a closure for this particular story. But if there's anything you wanted me to whip out, like more stories on Mike, or any of the characters, hit me up and maybe I can make some spin-off or something, but only if anyone is interested

#alien possession #male possession #alien takeover #alien expansion #alien transference #male puppet #male takeover #apushforfolly

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galamalion · 8 months

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𐕣. 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary. you attempt to enjoy the peaceful snowfall on your own, but aren't these beautiful moments meant to be shared?

⤷ contents. yandere!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships // wc. 1.6k

⤷ notes. thank you to @ddarker-dreams who inspired me to write something for chrollo, she's written some deplorable things for this man <3 i'm still only writing for one piece, this is something i just really wanted to write!

Snow had been falling for the last hour, painting the city below in a thin sheet of pure white, only the dark speckles of countless heads walking to-and-fro disturbing the peacefulness below. The windowsills and balcony were also beginning to pick up a layer, growing steadily with each tiny flake that joined the pile. A beautiful sight slowly being constructed, irreplaceable and inimitable by mankind.

But what is a beautiful thing, if not to be held and marveled?

You gazed solemnly out the window, fingers splayed against the chilled glass. A similar feeling no doubt to the snow that was just out of reach. God, how long had it been since you’d touched snow? Felt that freezing, yet warming sensation dance across your nerves, sending confusing signals to your brain.

Three years inside a luxury penthouse gave you time to organize your thoughts more poetically.

Well, to say you’d been here for three years would be inaccurate. Two years and five months inside this home. Chrollo must have been anxious for the first seven months he had you, either keeping you by his side or stashing you in rich hotels, if only for a single night.

Perhaps he had become more comfortable, or maybe he was working on a long job, seeing as you’d been here for so long. The fact that you were unsupervised made you lean towards the former, in addition to his unbeatable strength that made resistance futile. But you knew your limits, and slowly you’d been learning Chrollo’s over the course of these three years. Carefully tip-toeing the line between admonishment and punishment; you’d never get the last word but always make a sharp jab, leaving the oh-so generously gifted—and probably stolen—jewelry and makeup untouched, and, perhaps your favorite, ignoring his first call of your name, but always coming on the second.

Pretending to not have heard Chrollo was your favorite pastime after learning that there was little he could do except implore you to open those poor little ears of yours. And it was a joy asking him to repeat himself, enjoying the twinge of annoyance that you could make out in his voice.

However, as was normal in your new life, Chrollo had made himself scarce for an extended period of time. It wasn’t strange, in fact it was a much needed relief of his soul-scathing presence. He was most likely on a job, having found some ancient book or enchanting onyx necklace that he just had to have. Or, more accurately, another rotting memoir of a dead pompous poet that you would have to listen to Chrollo gush about, and another piece of jewelry for you to throw in the box and forget.

Maybe he’d get creative and bring you a fun hat this time.

At the end of the day, Chrollo wasn’t here, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was refreshing, not being alert at every waking moment, though that freezing fear had most certainly dulled with time. You had time to read, maybe start on a puzzle before you became too tired—coffee had been upgraded to a privilege in the last month, and something that Chrollo was only allowed to make, leaving you to rely on your own body’s performance to remain awake for longer. But puzzles left a sour taste in your mouth ever since Chrollo exchanged your fun scenic sets for Renaissance paintings.

And so you settled on reading, the only other thing to do in this godforsaken prison. Chrollo never liked it when you called it that, reminding you that ‘prisons didn’t have fresh produce or fireplaces.’ But even a golden cage is a cage, something you’d remind him of. He took away the remote after that spat.

You abandoned your window gazing and skipped over to the imposing bookshelf and the expansive collection of tomes that awaited you. Half were unreadable, written in dead languages you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The other half were plain boring, a collection of classics that Chrollo had most likely stolen over the years. But a handful were bearable, or at least interesting enough to keep you reading. You had offhandedly mentioned to Chrollo that you preferred mysteries, and the very next day a complete vintage series of Sherlock Holmes appeared. You tried to hint at adding more diverse genres, but so far there have been no new additions to the bookshelf.

After peeling the first book from the shelf and giving it a light shake to remove any lingering dust, you fled to the comfort of the window nook. It was a remarkable spot—one you knew Chrollo hated, since he could not sit next to you. You thumbed through the book to the first page, laying eyes upon the old and yellowed paper.

“In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the army.”

“Already a far more interesting life,” you muttered, “wish I could be a doctor.”

“Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out.”

“Oh, to travel the world. How I envy you, Watson,” you sighed, bleakly turning towards the window.

The snow hadn’t quit, continuing to stain the buildings in white, a gorgeous scene to behold. It was not to be enjoyed for long, however, as you caught a despicable glimpse in the reflection behind you.

Walking ever-so slightly closer was your captor, Chrollo Lucilfer, in the flesh. Although he seemed to immediately realize he’d been spotted, ceasing his silent movement before you swiveled your head around to face him.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your commentary,” he gave an innocent smile, “it’s always a treat to hear your dulcet voice.”

“I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself, thanks,” you spat, sending a glare his way before turning back to your book.

“If you’d like to travel the world, I could certainly take you,” he continued.”

“I’ll pass, Chrollo.”

“What ever happened to our little nicknames, my dove? I seem to recall you had quite the attachment to calling me Mephistopheles,” he noted, resuming his gait towards you.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve since concluded you rather enjoy being compared to the devil, whereas I am not your dove, nor any bird you refer to me as.”

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear,” he cooed.

“I am not yours.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I have stolen you, therefore you are mine.”

“Ah!” you cried out, “I believe you’re forgetting the special word for stealing another person. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s called kidnapping.”

Chrollo smirked at your words, now leaning against the wall beside you, staring down at your piece of literature.

“Believe me, treasure, I am well aware of the crimes I commit.”

“Feel free to list them,” you turned the page of your book, “I assure you, I’m listening.”

He easily plucked the book from your hand.

“Company is meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated,” he teased, returning it back to its place on the shelf. “Besides, the snow outside is stunning, is it not?”

“Of course,” you sneered. “Here, let me put on my cap and scarf, and then we can go frolic in this wonderful weather!”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get smart with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”

Chrollo went quiet and gave you a look, a sign for you to shut your mouth before you ruined tonight.

“I am more than willing to put on a movie tonight, given that your attitude improves,” he spoke softly, moving back towards you.

There was hidden, unspoken meaning behind his words, something you’d grown to adjust to with your snarky attitude. Behave, or you get nothing.

“...What movie do you have in mind?” you responded, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to cool your soured mood.

“I’ll give you the choice, but I’m feeling partial to a select couple. Perhaps Romeo and Juliett? Or Pride and Prejudice?”

Someone’s in a mood tonight, you thought, folding your arms.

“Pride and Prejudice is fine,” you concluded, not wanting to hear Chrollo wax on about what Shakespeare meant or didn’t mean.

“Wonderful,” he smiled, walking over to the kitchen. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate, my dear? I believe it would be fantastic on such a cold day.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” you answered as politely as you could manage, well aware that a simple ‘sure’ would not be enough to earn you any specialties.

You stood from your window alcove and walked quietly towards the bedroom, attempting to do so casually and without drawing his attention.

But it was impossible to slip anything past Chrollo Lucilfer.

“Dear,” he called out, still focused on his work at the counter.

You wordlessly turned around, staring emptily at the back of his head.

“There should be a dress, a black one, on the far right of your wardrobe,” he instructed, “be a doll and put it on.”

“...Alright.”

A black dress, probably too short to be comfortable in either direction. Chrollo’s favorite pastime, of course, was getting a glimpse of the body you’d refuse to show. But this was Chrollo’s night, not your own. Never your own.

So you’ll put the dress on, just like you’ll watch the movie that Chrollo wanted, right next to him—too close to him—on the sofa. And who knows, maybe you’ll do a puzzle with him at the end of the night.

But wasn't the snow just stunning?

#chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh x reader #mdni

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lov3jimin · 4 months

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Paige X Reader

paige and reader having fun in the pool

It was a rare day off for Paige Bueckers and Y/N Between their grueling practice schedules and intense games, moments of relaxation were few and far between. Today, however, was different. The sun was shining brightly, casting a golden glow over the outdoor pool where they planned to spend their afternoon.

Paige and Y/N arrived at the pool, their laughter echoing in the stillness of the morning. Paige wore a sleek blue swimsuit that complemented her athletic figure, while Y/N opted for a vibrant red bikini that showcased her toned physique. They laid out their towels on the lounge chairs, already anticipating the fun that awaited them.

"Ready for some fun, Y/N?" Paige teased, adjusting her sunglasses.

Y/N grinned. "Always, Bueckers. Think you can keep up?"

With a playful glint in her eye, Paige raced towards the pool, diving in gracefully. The cool water enveloped her, a refreshing contrast to the warm sun. Y/N followed suit, her dive sending a splash in Paige's direction.

"Hey!" Paige exclaimed, wiping water from her face. "No fair!"

Y/N laughed, her eyes twinkling. "All's fair in love and splashes."

They spent the next hour playing various games in the water. Paige challenged Y/N to a race, and although both were competitive by nature, they couldn't help but dissolve into laughter every time one of them tried to cheat by splashing the other. The sound of their joy filled the air, mingling with the gentle lapping of the water.

After the race, they decided to take a break, floating lazily on their backs. The sun warmed their faces, and they let themselves relax, enjoying the tranquility of the moment.

"This is nice," Y/N said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige turned her head, smiling at Y/N. "Yeah, it really is. We should do this more often."

Y/N nodded in agreement. "Definitely."

After a while, Y/N's mischievous side resurfaced. She silently swam beneath Paige, grabbing her ankles and pulling her underwater. Paige yelped in surprise before being submerged, coming up laughing and spluttering.

"Y/N! You little—" Paige splashed water at her, unable to finish her sentence through her giggles.

Y/N tried to dodge the splash, but it only made her laugh harder. "You should have seen your face!"

Paige's eyes sparkled with a playful challenge. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that."

The two engaged in an impromptu splash fight, water flying everywhere as they chased each other around the pool. Their laughter was contagious, and even the lifeguard, who had been watching them with amusement, couldn't help but smile.

Eventually, they grew tired and swam to the edge of the pool, resting their arms on the side and catching their breath.

"You know," Paige said, looking at Y/N with a fond smile, "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun."

Y/N leaned in closer, her eyes softening. "Me neither. I'm glad we did this."

They shared a quiet moment, the world around them fading into the background. In the pool's crystal-clear water, under the golden rays of the sun, they felt an unspoken connection, a bond that went beyond their shared love for basketball.

Paige gently brushed a wet strand of hair away from Y/N's face. "You make everything better, you know that?"

Y/N's heart swelled with affection. "I could say the same about you, Paige."

In the serene silence, their faces inched closer until their lips met in a tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, a promise of many more moments like this to come. When they pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, eyes closed in the peaceful aftermath of their shared joy.

The rest of the day was spent in a blissful haze. They lounged by the pool, sipping on cool drinks, sharing stories and dreams. As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, they knew this day would be one of their most cherished memories.

Hand in hand, they walked back to their car, their hearts full and content. They had found something special in each other, a love that was both playful and profound. And as they drove away, the sound of their laughter lingered in the air, a testament to the happiness they had found together.

sorry I have not posted in a min 😂🤗

#paige bueckers x reader #new poster #paigebueckers #uconn wbb #swimming pool #y/n

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saintslewis · 6 months

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❝ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐀 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc - Nadia Hamilton

summary: a rainy day in the South of France has put you two closer than you would think.

warnings: outfit descriptions, cussing, suggestive gestures, pet names, links to visuals, a bit of smau (i’ll make a separate chapter for that 😭)

saint’s team radio 🎀: hey y’all, Nadia misses you guys! Sorry I took forever with this, it was a lot on my plate along with a whole lotta drafts that i made up 🧍🏽‍♀️ i love you guys 🥹 LEWDIA IS BACK!!!

renaissance: the masterlist • pots: social media

tags are down below! (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

pics are from ig and pinterest

It’s 8 am and Nadia couldn’t feel any lighter, a smile painted on her face as she descended down the stairs of her LA home.

Vanilla and cinnamon scented candles were lit around the living room along with the kitchen area, clean and ready for the amazing breakfast she was going to make for when Lewis woke up. The satin pyjamas smelled like his cologne and surprisingly, she felt refreshed after a wild night out with her friends.

Except it wasn’t 8 am on a Sunday morning.

“Are my earrings too loud?” Nadia exclaimed, holding her ears as she stood in front of Amara who was leaning on the Jeep she and Miles came in.

“What?” Amara slurred and giggled right after with her eyes barely open.

“You can’t hear them?” She shook her head, feeling her head sway much faster than it actually did.

Amara just laughed out loud at Nadia’s confusion. “Tinkerbell, they’re veeeeery quiet.” She managed to get her words out, her eyes barely open.

When Nadia is high, she’s a very special person. Her curiosity skyrockets and she can hold a conversation for hours about literally anything. How she got to this point was just 40 minutes before, she had asked for something sweet because she had a sour taste in her mouth and Amara just so happened to give her 2 edibles.

Miles had suggested that they all head home and the girls get some air from being the packed party. The Jeep luckily had an open roof for the cool air and the boys just watched the exchange between Nadia and Amara, laughing at almost everything they said.

“I really want pancakes. Oh! Pookie bear, can we make pancakes when we get home?” Nadia expressed her excitement when she thought of the idea although not knowing the time. All Lewis did was smile at the eager girl, holding onto his coat just in case she felt cold.

“Brotha, just as a me and you talk. How you feelin since Nadia came into your life?” Miles asked, crossing his arms as he watched the two women laugh at a bug on the window shield.

Taking a breath, Lewis began. “It’s been fun having someone around, I won’t lie. She had a whole life before me and I feel guilty watching her change her life around to help me with my image. I think she sees this as a friendship and I wouldn’t put it past her to not. She’s a breath of fresh air.” He spoke.

“Just wanna point out you did not look at me the entire time you said all that.” Miles laughed, earning an eye roll from his friend. “But it is very nice to hear you speak about someone like this. Nads is a brilliant one, so I’ve heard from the grapevine.” The tall man nodded as he talked.

“The grapevine being Amara?” Lewis teased which earned him a push on the arm. “Shush. Anyways, she went to Cambridge then Oxford and she’s a teacher. If you fuck this up, Carl Davidson, you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Miles pointed at Lewis who just took everything in.

“Who knows? She could’ve had a line of people waiting for her but she wanted to help you out of the goodness of her heart, dealing with your stubborn ass. My point is me and the crew already love her and her personality so please.” He concluded, making the “i’m watching you” gesture and they both laughed.

“Let me go make those pancakes and I’ll let you know.” Lewis chuckled at the thought of making pancakes with Nadia at 11 pm, mere hours before they have to leave for Monaco.

Eventually getting the women into the car and them immediately requesting to play music and sing their hearts out, the group drove off into the nighttime and it wasn’t long until they reached the Los Angeles home.

“Bye Mars, bye fencer.” Nadia exclaimed, dragging out the last letter of their given nicknames. The jeep drove out of the large gates and the two walked to the front door with held hands, mainly to keep Nadia from tripping on her own two feet. Once in the house, Lewis could tell that she was about to head for the kitchen first but he held her hand much tighter which made her whine out.

“But the pancakes, Lew.” She whined as he pulled her in front of her. “I know, Nads. Let’s just take our shoes off before we go make them.” He smiled, watching as she leaned herself on the hallway wall with her eyes staring daggers into his.

“You’re no fun.” Nadia rolled her eyes but she could feel her body tingling as he continued to hold intense eye contact with her.

“Wanna repeat that?” Lewis smirked and she shook her head, feeling her high slip away a little as Nadia felt all the emotions.

Kneeling down, Lewis put his hand out to her legs so that she could get her slightly stained shoes off. With each antagonising minute that passed, she watched the man gently take her shoes off and neatly putting them next to the wall but what truly sat with her was how close he was to where her daydreams led her to.

“Thank you.” Nadia whispered out to him, watching him stand to his full height. “No problem, sweetie.” He winked and linked his hand with hers once again, seeing how gone she was, the plan of making pancakes out the window.

Going upstairs, reality started becoming clearer the closer she got to the top step. As nervous as she was, Nadia wanted something without her being the first one to make the first move. “Could you help me with my corset?” She blurted out, ignoring the butterflies flying around her stomach.

“Lead the way.” Lewis moved to the side to allow her to enter her room first. Thankful she left it clean, she slowly walked to the en suite bathroom with him following her closely behind. The mirror reflection showed him with his hands in his pockets, the coat long forgotten downstairs. Her breath hitched when she made eye contact with him through the mirror, her hands holding onto the edge of the bathroom counter.

To try and ignore the rising tension between them, Nadia played a little with her hair and Lewis took this as an opportunity to really drink her in. Every item she wore sat on her body so well, her jewellery shining representing her personality. He internally thanked the universe for bringing such a woman into his life, watching her fidget about and eventually finding a claw clip for the wig she wore.

Nadia raised her hands to attempt to take the jewels off but he reached out first, standing dangerously close to her and she could feel his fingers graze the back of her neck with goosebumps rising on her skin. It didn’t take long until Lewis gently placed the accessories on the marble counter and took a step back but she wished he stayed longer behind her, it felt all too right.

“You really shouldn’t look at people like that.” Nadia muttered, taking off her bracelets next. “So I shouldn’t appreciate my wife just existing?” Lewis smirked, his hands now behind his back.

“Said the same thing back at the party, white boy didn’t even know.” She smiled at the memory, deciding to take off her makeup before taking the corset off also just to keep Lewis in her company a little longer.

“Sweetie, he knew. Pretty sure he watched you for a while before he did that stunt.” He said, watching intently how she took her makeup off.

Scoffing a bit, she dragged the damp cotton ball across her eye. “Stunt? Dare I say you sound a lil jealous, Sir.” She chuckled. Lewis didn’t respond, he just kept his eyes on her and watched her try to shy away from the intense look he was giving her with a small smile on his face.

“You looked really good today.” He complimented. One thing Nadia didn’t want to show was how easy it was for her to fold at his words but she couldn’t help it. “Boy, you’re over here making me blush.” She gave him a smile through the mirror, appreciating the way their friendship was going.

Lewis shrugged. “Glad it was me and not that white boy.” He rolled his eyes and got a loud laugh out of her as she was dabbing her face with a small towel. “I knew you were jealous!”

“Yeah yeah.” Now it was his turn to shy away so that Nadia couldn’t see the growing smile on his face.

“Can you break down this upcoming week for me? I won’t hold you, I’m super nervous.” She asked, turning around to face him then leaning on the counter.

“We’ll be staying at home this week, first thing. Might get my hair done in time for Versace then the rest of the week is prep for the race weekend.” He spoke, scratching his head afterwards.

“I sent Tia some ideas for your outfit and she went ahead and got it, she said it’ll be in Monaco by the time we get there. She also said it’s hella bougie over there so I need to up my game this week.” Nadia said then nodded afterwards.

The two conversed about everything she could possibly expect from the Monaco Grand Prix weekend and how wild it could get. As promised, he had helped her with her corset clips and choosing to ignore that they could cut the tension with a knife.

They said good night to each other quite awkwardly before heading to bed.

Baby steps, Nadia thought.

iMessage!

The girlies 🫦

nads: i won’t lie to you guys, we had a moment

charlotte (not tilbury) : LEWDIA IS HAPPENING???

personal pillow amara: FINALLY also how are you not high out of your mind?

nataliaaaa: you got tinkerbell high?

charlotte (not tilbury): can we focus on the two lovebirds pls !!!

charlotte (not tilbury): you’re not off the hook amara 🤨

nads: my high disappeared SO QUICK but it felt so real, i blushed

nataliaaa: tink, i’m going to need you to STAND UP. it’s damn near 1 am ‼️

nads: sorry 😭 just wanted to update my girls but i’ll def tell you the deets in monaco if you guys are coming?

personal pillow amara: unfortunately i have work so i’ll miss so much iconic shit 😔

charlotte (not tilbury): oh no 😔 i’ll definitely fill up my phone storage for you mars x

nataliaaa: mars, we got you 🫵🏽. now let’s get some sleep before our flight!

three people liked this message!

(+44) 34 - *** - ****

yo nads, it’s cench

nadia: what do you want

central cee (unfort.): so me and dave are heading to mons this week for the race and what not

nadia: so what’s that got to do with me

central cee (unfort.): c’mon don’t be like that

nadia: girl wtf do you want

central cee (unfort.): we shootin that weekend so we had the brilliant plan that you could be in the vid 😁

nadia: bye cench, don’t annoy me this week. tell dave i said hi though

central cee (unfort.): nads 🧍🏽‍♂️

nadia: AHT AHT you lost the privilege to call me that after that little stunt you tried to pull in front of my boys

central cee (unfort.): it was for the beta squad vid

nadia: go talk to the wall. bye.

central cee (unfort.) has been blocked!

MONTE CARLO, MONACO

In Europe, it’s always raining somewhere and today, Mother Nature chose Monaco to spread her showers.

The pair had landed a few hours earlier, crashing into their beds after a quick penthouse tour which left Nadia speechless. A well deserved nap later, soft music played from the house speakers and vanilla scented incense wafted through the air while she looked through the kitchen for ingredients for pancakes, also making sure they hadn’t gone past the expiry date.

Although it was raining outside, it wasn’t as cold inside. Satisfied with how the first pancake came out, she continued pouring a bit of the batter into the pan. “Maybe I should melt some chocolate.” She muttered to herself, biting the edge of her nail while rotating the pan around.

Lewis couldn’t help but look at his wife in admiration once again, everything about her was endearing to him. He knew she was different from anyone he’d been with, despite the obvious that she wasn’t famous. He appreciated her showing her personality from the moment anyone meets her, the genuine feelings she expresses to everything and her support.

Not to mention her reactions to anything he buys for her, he loves the smile that spreads across her face when she sees something she likes and he wants to keep that smile there forever.

“It smells good in here, chef.” Lewis spoke, leaning on the kitchen counter and watched her prepare their pancakes. Nadia flinched at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to wake up anytime soon.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, pookie.” Nadia said, pointing the spatula in his direction. Sliding the cooked pancakes in his direction for taste test, she continued making the others.

“I still wanna melt some chocolate so go right ahead and tell me what you think.” She informed, not realising that he had not once glanced at the food in front of him. “I’ll wait up for you to finish so that we can eat together.” Lewis spoke, going as far as to lean his head on his hand.

Turning to face him, she put her hand on her hip. “I wanna wash the dishes before I eat, it’s one of the weird things I do.”

“I’ll help. Looks like we’ve got more in common than we thought.”

With Nadia drying off the dishes, Lewis stuck to washing duty and it would’ve been a fairly quick process if the two didn’t sing all the songs that came up. “Damn you can sing sing! Might make you sing for me every day.” She joked, drying off the last bowl used for chocolate chips and moved around the spacious kitchen to put it away.

“Whatever you say, Nads.” Lewis cleaned up the sink then turn to watch her struggle to put the bowl back because the cupboard was too high.

Deciding to help her, he held her waist and hoisted her up then helped her down, the two gazing at each other afterwards. There was that tension again, one step from either of them and their chests would be touching.

Neither had made any move to look elsewhere, getting lost in each other’s eyes. Choosing to be bold, Lewis dragged his eyes to her plump moisturised lips, waiting for something to happen. Anything.

The doorbell ringing is what brought them out of their moment, both looking at the front door as if they had been caught. Hooking her finger to his infamous pearl necklace, Lewis could barely comprehend her lips on the corner of his mouth. A quick peck and her lipgloss now transferred onto him.

“I’ll go get it.” Nadia smirked then gave the shocked man a wink, moving to head to the front door, revealing Tia carrying two Versace bags. “Am I interrupting somethin here?” Tia voiced out before entering the penthouse.

“Hello to you, Tia.” Nadia greeted, closing the front door and following behind.

“I’ve got your outfits for tomorrow!”

“It’s way too early for this shit but but I look good that’s all that matters.” Nadia spoke to herself, spraying the last bit hairspray to the back of her head then adding one last hairpin.

Fixing her dress afterwards, she stared at herself in the mirror and was extremely happy with her choice. She was more than curious to see how Lewis’ outfit came about since she was given the opportunity to style him.

The theme for this event was all black while Donatella Versace and Dua Lipa’s vision was for the runway outfits to be the stars of the show. Going through fashion blogs and archives late at night when she couldn’t sleep, she made sure she built up a good enough outfit to add to her portfolio.

Nadia knew his braider came over this morning whilst she was styling her own wig and she was excited to see the finished product on him. Seeing her Louboutins waiting to be worn on the floor, she decided to make him take photos of her before they left.

Lifting her dress in order for her to not trip on it, Nadia walked to the main bedroom knowing very well that he was there because she could hear his footsteps. “Pookie, could you take some photos of me before we leave. I want to make…sure….” Nadia couldn’t finish her sentence as the man she was looking for walked out of his closet adjusting the black shirt he wore.

“Damn.” She whispered lowly but he had heard her and her previous request. The all black outfit accentuated his physique along with the tailored pants. On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t be as exciting but on him, it had a completely different style to it. Very minimal jewellery but goodness did it work with the outfit.

“You look gorgeous, Nads. Extremely gorgeous.” Lewis complimented, fixing his watch. She didn’t want to show that the compliment got to her but her pursed lips and high cheekbones were a result of it. “Thank you, Lew.” She voiced.

Eventually, the pair had taken all the pictures they could before leaving. The show had been a success, Donatella had absolutely adored Nadia and how she presented herself to the fashion world. Lewis stood back and watched as she met so many people with such grace and kindness, networking without even realising. Not to mention Dua Lipa going crazy upon finally meeting Nadia, only ever interacting online. Best believe most of the garments were already being sent to Nadia’s doorstep.

With Friday quickly approaching, Nadia sat in the passenger seat of the sf90, texting her younger cousin who finally arrived in the uk the day before. The tension from earlier on in the week was still present but it was masked up with their friendship. Both had tried to distract themselves from it by spending time away from each other; Nadia with the other wags and Lewis with Miles and Spinz but it only got worse because of the space.

The traffic that day was awful but they had somehow gotten to the paddock in time. The atmosphere in Monaco was buzzing with excitement and people were everywhere donning their merch and waiting for their favourite driver to arrive. As always, the Mercedes garage was full with tons more celebrities than there were in Miami.

Spending most of her time with Charlotte, Nadia gathered up the courage to tell her about everything going on with a certain UK rapper. “Wait wait. So he’s still pining for you or what?” The blonde held Nadia’s hands across the table at the Paddock Club, overlooking the garages.

“I rejected him when he tried the first time. We continued being acquaintences until now, I guess. Mind you, this man basically asked if I wanted to be a video vixen.” Nadia rolled her eyes at the whole thing.

“The audacity of this man.” Charlotte said with a disgusted expression. She looked behind Nadia for a moment, watching this person walk closer and closer to them.

“Nads?”

“Yeah?”

“You said he wears a ‘23’ chain?”

“Uh huh…”

“Let’s go, he’s coming over here but he’s distracted right now.” Jumping out of her seat, Charlotte grabbed Nadia’s hand and quickly lead her out to the ever-busy paddock. “Damn, Lottie. Warn a girl next time.” Nadia chuckled as they slowed down and walked leisurely, practice not starting until an hour’s time.

Talking about anything that came to mind, Nadia had accidentally bumped into someone’s shoulder, immediately apologising until she saw who stood in front of her with a gigantic smile on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He apologised, several Portuguese words following right after. Neymar Jr opted to continue staring at Nadia, all his focus on the woman in front of him. “It’s okay, I’m Nadia Hamilton. Nice to meet you.” She smiled, still holding onto Charlotte’s hand very tightly.

“Ah! Lewis’ wife! I must say you are very beautiful.” Neymar spoke and just like that, Nadia’s smile slightly faltered. “Right! This is Charlotte, my close friend.” She introduced the two to each other but he had his eyes on his friend’s wife.

“You know I never thought I would meet you. I wanted to ask Lewis but as always, he’s busy.” Neymar was trying and Nadia thought it was an adorable attempt. Within the span of a second, Lewis appeared behind Neymar on his scooter, with such a dark look in his eyes.

Charlotte squeezed Nadia’s hand once more to pay attention to her surroundings and once she did, she locked eyes with the man of the hour.

The girls watched as Lewis interacted with Neymar as if he didn’t just look at him in such a way that brought chills down their spines. “I see you’ve met Char and my wife, Nads.” The driver turns to them, reaching to embrace Nadia with Charlotte immediately catching the drift and texting the girls about it.

On the outside, this interaction looked all too friendly with old friends catching up just before Lewis has to get out on track. The look in Lewis' eyes said it all and Nadia couldn’t help but be entertained. Watching the thirsty footballer walk away in defeat and Charlotte running away to go tell Miles and Spinz everything, the pretend couple stood right by his scooter with cameras clearly pointing at them.

Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned down to her ear. “You know you have cameras following your every move,right? You think that was a nice move, princess?” He spoke and she felt the vibrations of his voice travel down her body, resisting the urge to cross her legs.

“No…” She replied.

“Also your little rapper friend came around looking for you. Says he’s shooting for his music video.” He lifted his head to make it look like he was having a normal conversation when in reality, she was anticipating everything coming out of his mouth.

“And what did you say?” She asked, lowering her glasses from her head, following his direction. “Told him to have fun, it’s Monaco after all.” He smirked, he was enjoying this way too much.

All she could do was nod. The last thing she wanted was for that man to meet Lewis and now he’s taken it upon himself to go above himself and Lewis was entertaining it all.

On one of the huge screens right by the grandstands, the camera man made sure to keep the camera on them but Lewis on one step ahead of him. “Smile for the camera, Mrs Hamilton.” He quietly said with a smirk, patting her lower back and that brought goosebumps on her skin.

She smiled the best way she could, showing off her tooth gems.

What the hell? Nadia thought.

“This entire weekend has not been real.” Nadia groaned as she put her head in her hands, her left wrist heavier than the other. The music was blasting loudly as she watched her friends partied from the booth. Their way of persuading her being “He’s driving, you’re not. Let’s go have fun!”

The ‘fun’ in question was shopping, driving around Monaco in different sports cars each, participating in random street interviews and almost ending up in that music video. Not to mention Tia gifting her an iced out Rolex signed by her crew back in the uk, a few tears escaping as she opened the watch just before Lewis left for Qualifying.

However, Nadia Hamilton had no clue what her and her friends were doing at a club as the race was being held, only on lap 12. She was exhausted, these past two weeks finally getting to her and the thought of having to return to work next week made her cringe. No drinks had entered her system but she could feel the headache coming through.

Grabbing her shoulder bag, Nadia headed to the bar to let her friends know that she’ll catch up with them later at the post-race party that apparently everyone attends. Hopping in the Lamborghini and fastening her seat belt, the woman sat back and really thought about her life at the moment.

No less than three months ago, she had finished off paying her student loan 3 years after she received her honours degree from Oxford. Thinking that she finally felt a weight lifted from her shoulders after submitting the final payment but it was nothing compared to how she was living now. Financially free to do whatever she wanted.

She knew it was a dangerous thought to have because truly, no one knows how long this ‘marriage’ between her and Lewis will last. Once he’s no longer in different scandals, will he kick her out? Will he take back the gifts and cars? Who knows. But one thing Nadia knew was that there is always going to be a plan b if the first one doesn’t work out.

Still owns her car, her apartment and places her salary in her savings account just in case this doesn’t carry through.

Hearing the roar of the sports car through the streets of Monaco had caught the attention of those outside of the track, Nadia quickly rushing to the penthouse to avoid the not-so kind weather approaching. Sending a good luck text to Lewis knowing very well he couldn’t read it, she crashed onto the couch after a shower and watched the race whilst occasionally watching from the balcony.

P4 was a good result although she wished for a podium, proud of him either way and her instagram story was evidence. After a few hours of chilling and cooking up some good pasta, Lewis got home and she made sure to hug him with excitement.

“You did the damn thing out there, boy! Those old ass motherfuckers had no idea what they were saying.” Nadia cheesed as she let go of the hug. He was pleasantly surprised at all this energy considering she was out all day.

“I mean, it’s not the result we wanted but I worked my ass off today.” He spoke, placing his stuff down on the kitchen counter. He stood next to her as she too leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

“By the way, our friends have invited us to the post-race party at Lillie’s.” She pursed her lips then looked at his side profile. “What’s your say?”

“I don’t know, some Brazilian guy’ll be there and want your full attention.” Lewis shrugged.

“So..you?”

Kissing his teeth at her response, she burst into laughter. “I had to, that shit was funny.” Nadia wheezed as she looked at his stoic expression. “Damn,” she wiped a tear of laughter. “Let me go change so I can piss you off even more at the cluuuub!” She stood up straight and walked to her room, cackling loudly as she did. Leaving him to shake his head and laugh at her little jokes.

A good hour had passed and she was surprisingly ready in time. Wanting to keep as many memories of the weekend, Nadia took many photos be it serious or with personality. However, she wanted to change scenery so she went ahead to the living area that had a mirror and had an impromptu photoshoot.

Not noticing Lewis’ heavy footsteps walking around, she only looked up after a few moments and caught him admiring her. He sat on the couch manspread with his arm under his chin although his eyes were telling a different story.

Nadia took one glimpse at his outfit consisting of a LV sweatshirt that resembled a football jersey, large jewellery with his cap facing backwards and a fan in his diamond-clad hand and to take it a step further, he leaned back into the couch and flashed a bright smile, revealing a new set of grillz to her.

Fuck it, she thought.

“You think they’ll mind if we’re a bit late?” She asked, slowly walking towards him until she ended up between his legs. His hand connected with hers and guided her into his lap to straddle him, both hands grabbing at her waist to bring her closer.

“They’ll be fine.” Lewis slightly bit his lip and leaned in.

Instagram!

nadiahamilton:

New message from: @/juliananalu

juliananalu: hiiii

saint’s notes 🎀: pls do not be mistaken, central cee is my man lol. hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @lorarri @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @roseseraj @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew

if your account is blank, tumblr can’t find you!

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houpss · 7 months

Text

Relationships with SKZ

🧊–return to masterlist ¡! ✥

BANG CHAN+HWANG LILY (Chanly):

To begin with, she was deeply in love with him and Now she feels great affection for him, she literally cannot live without him for a second.

She literally fell in love with Chan because he was so kind to her while they were trainees.

Very cute and soft duet.

Lily helped Chan a lot with his self-esteem and self-acceptance, they did a great job together.

And Chan is always there when Lily has anxiety attacks or panic attacks, he's always there.

She is his regular guest in the Chan's room (more on that later)

Very popular pairing!!! (hyunlix, minsung and chanly almost three main ways )

She cried every time he said something bad to himself.

She takes him shopping, because Chan doesn’t really like this business.

The NOT funniest jokes that only they laugh at .

Mmm, she loves Chan's curls, plays with them every chance she gets.

bro...they're literally dating, don't you get it? THEY'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP

How did it happen?

Literally one phrase from Lily one cold and bad evening changed everything

Nicknames for the Chan (in phone):Channie wife 🌹

Nicknames for the Lily (in phone): Teddy Lily 🐻❤️

LEE KNOW+HWANG LILY (Limin):

Minho was extremely annoyed that Lily would be in a MAN group.

Constant joint training brought them closer, very close.

In front of the cameras, they tease each other and literally mock each other, but outside the cameras...

Outside of cameras and public life, they are together, they love each other

bro...they are like brother and sister. they love each other so much

Lily is very attracted to him

Dance duet. THEY DANCED THE TROUBLE MAKER (what Hyunjin and Minho danced)

Small acts of caring.

He holds her hand in public, this is the norm.

They watch anime or cook together (that's why they live in the same dorm)

So much sarcasm.

Lily mom sunidunidori.

A couple of volunteers and a couple of sincerity

Nicknames for Lee Know (in phone): cat lover 🐈‍⬛

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): annoying lady 👾

SEO CHANGBIN+HWANG LILY (Binli):

THEY BECAME FRIENDS RIGHT AFTER CHANGBIN JOINED JYP.

Lily can just walk up to him and start screaming and Changbin will scream back.

They eat together and always eat.

She makes fun of Changbin because of his height, and Changbin is indignant.

Changbin steals Lily's cookies.

the noisiest in the group and in the company.

Changbinie teaches Lily women's choreography.

Lily dies at the sight of his muscles.

"My little dwaekki is lives in the gym???"

They're just fun and noisy.

Sometimes they write song lyrics together.

Nicknames for Changbin (in phone):Changbin 🐽🐰

Nicknames for Lily (in phone):LILYYYY ❤️

HWANG HYUNJIN+HWANG LILY (Lyhyun):

We disliked each other a little before debut.

But this immediately passed when the survival show began.

So aesthetic and flirty together 🫦

Hyunjin has a collection of Lily's portraits.

She makes hairstyles out of his hair, but Lily's favorite hairstyle is TWO TAIL ON THE SIDE (I’m dying, girls)

Hyunjin doesn't like to be touched a lot, but she's allowed.

She protects him from all the hate 🥺🥺

So beautiful and their interactions are going viral on social media.

Lily often watches Hyunjin draw, it's just so cozy.

THEIR HANDS DIFFERENCE.. Hyunjin's arms are 20.5 cm, and Lily's are 16.5.

He kissed her once on the cheek at a concert (oh my god, how the fans love it)

"My world is your peace of mind, and I am your protection"

Nicknames for Hyunjin (in phone): Mr.Hwang

Nicknames for Lily (in phone):Mrs.Hwang

HAN JISUNG+HWANG LILY (Lisung):

These bro jokers of the group.

They both have mental problems...

They write sad lyrical songs together.

Sweet tooth and of course the leaders of the sunny trio.

He's so chaotic and she's calm.

There are paired rings and paired T-shirts, the participants consider their T-shirts to be cringe, but they like it.

A very noisy duet part 2

Lily Paints Jisung's Nails.

They walk together to refresh their minds and get back to normal.

Walking with dogs is possible!

High notes are their place of comfort.

They didn't communicate during their trainee days.

Nicknames for Jisung (in phone): Squirrel 🌙

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Lily ily

LEE FELIX+HWANG LILY (Lilix):

HER LITTLE BOY LIX 🥺🥺🥺

completes the sunny trio.

UBUBUBU LILY IS VERY GENTLE AND CAREFUL WITH HIM.

they bake desserts together!

Felix arranges ASMR sessions for Lily.

She saw his abs and went crazy.

Literally two kittens.

Lily's soft voice and Felix's bass....

They have several covers and songs together and maybe stay will hear them.

She was very careful and gentle with him during her trainee days, because Felix was very shy and afraid.

HE IS HER SUNSHINE:(((

They're soulmates, okay?

The second most popular pairing is with Lily (Chanly is in first place, and Limin is in third)

Nicknames for Felix (in phone): Bby sunny 🥺🩷

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Kitten soo 😼

KIM SEUNGMIN+HWANG LILY (Seungly):

Okay...he's a pain in her ass.

SHE BARKED AROUND HIM ONCE (he thinks she's weird)

Lily loves his vocals and his voice.

Seungmin mocks Lily, but he also knows how to care.

Seungmin teaches Lily to play baseball, but she is not a very good player.

He takes photos of her, because according to Lily, Seungmin takes the best photos.

Snarky #1

When she is anxious, he brings her some soft toy and leaves.

But then the boy always finds out how she feels.

DAY6 FANS

Let Seungmin smile so widely next to Lily

Nicknames for Seungmin (in phone): Don't pick up the phone

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): Lily bear

I.N+HWANG LILY (Lijeon):

Her sweet child!

But, I want to say that Jeongin is 23 (!) and he is such a protection and support for Lily, he loves her very much 🥺

They go to Busan together and hang out there

Jeongin's family considers Lily their daughter (problems in Lily's family)

Jeongin is so handsome and sweet, Lily loves his company

He repeatedly selected looks and outfits for her for some outings and she did the same for him.

Jeongin allows Lily to hug him WITHOUT PROBLEMS AND NOT LIKE WITH THE OTHER MEMBERS.

Literally helped him with his homework

They have a card (which all the Stays fight for) where they are hugging and they are wearing pale pink outfits

They watch dramas at night (Chan scolds them for this).

Nicknames for Jeongin (in phone): millionaire guy

Nicknames for Lily (in phone): beautiful bear 🐻🫂

#stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #skz female addition #skz headcanons #skz female member #skz female oc #stray kids #stray kids added member #stray kids addition #fictional idol oc #fictional characters #kpop female member #female kpop idol #stray kids fluff #fluff

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freelancearsonist · 6 months

Text

in shades of gray and candlelight

➔ Marcus Pike x fem!Reader - 7.2k

➔ Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

➔ Rated MA for artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily [please let me know if i missed any at all :)]

➔ this is my (first 😈) submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! i really did mean for this to be a drabble especially since i didn't know anything about marcus before receiving this prompt but he has my whole fucking heart and mind now 😩 thank you so much for the challenge lovely kel, and special thank u to my baby @fhatbhabie for betaing and screaming with me ily <3 (dividers by the amazing and talented @saradika-graphics)

You meet Marcus Pike on a Friday night and it’s obvious from the start that he’s going to change your life forever.

He looks a little disheveled when he enters the gallery–brown hair ruffled and standing up in places, tie loose, top shirt button undone. There’s an alluring five o’clock shadow burgeoning across his jaw and cheeks. He looks like he’s had a long day, and it’s only going to get longer. It’s all part of the plan, of course. He’s supposed to look like a standard blue collar worker, and he pulls it off with ease.

It’s the exhibition’s opening night, so it’s a little more packed than the gallery normally would be. It works in his favor–he’s able to collect a plastic cup of champagne from the refreshment table and blend seamlessly into the crowd.

His eyes are diligent as they scan the faces that come and go. He tries to commit them all to memory–the tall woman with the slight limp, the short guy wearing the Hawaiian patterned shirt. There’s dozens of people that pass by, and so many of them are forgettable. It’s exhibitions like these that make him dread undercover work.

The art on the walls isn’t exceptional, but it’s not bad. Nothing that seems worth stealing, that’s for sure. But his source is good, and his source said that this place was getting hit tonight. So he keeps his watchful eyes vigilant and pretends to sip the champagne in his hand.

Until he finds your exhibit.

There’s a depth to your art that he’s come to be familiar with–something he sees often in work of high value. Anyone can make abstract art, it’s as simple as flicking paint at a canvas. But few can charge it as emotionally as you have. To convey feeling and passion and heart through abstraction is a separate art form all its own, and it’s one you’ve mastered.

He’s seen original Rothko’s, Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s; he’s held their frames in his own two hands. But nothing’s ever made his breath hitch in his throat quite the way yours does.

He stands in front of a canvas simply labeled “Waves In Motion” with your name printed neatly underneath, brow creased with a concentration that seems a little unnecessary given the subject matter of the painting. It’s all shades of blue and violet, swirling together in a way that seems partly sensuous, partly violent. It makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and he takes a step closer. That’s when he notices it: a single dot of red paint right in the middle, a focal point of all the swirling cobalts. So small that he wouldn’t notice it if he wasn’t close; so small it could almost be interpreted as a mistake.

But he knows without having to ask that it’s not an answer. He wonders who that dot represents: you, the artist? Most likely.

Without meaning to, he smiles. It’s been a long time, years really, since a piece of art provoked such thought.

“Hi.”

The voice Marcus hears next to him is soft, dulcet. He doesn’t turn to the noise quickly–from the tone in that word alone he senses a hesitance, as if you’re a fawn that’s lost its mother and you’re bound to run if he makes any sudden movements.

And, truth be told, part of him thinks he might not be able to look away even if he tried right now. There’s something so beautiful about this painting–and underneath, something so ominous. There’s an air about the work that says he might unlock the secrets of the universe if he just keeps looking.

“Hi there.” He keeps his eyes trained on “Waves In Motion” as he responds–playing the game. He’s here to brush shoulders, after all; to be the right amount of forgettable yet memorable.

“This is my best, I think,” you murmur while taking a step closer. “It took the least time of all of them, surprisingly. But… I think when you know exactly what you’re trying to convey, it just comes to you easily.”

“These are yours?” There’s admiration in his eyes and an air of something akin to disbelief in his voice as he takes in the group of canvases proudly displayed on the plain white gallery walls.

And then he turns and lets himself take you in. More specifically the curling strand of hair that falls out of your updo to frame your face, the deeply plunging neckline of your dress, the way your calf muscles work even standing still in your high-heeled shoes. You’re a work of art in your own right; the most beautiful piece he’s seen in a long time.

“Yeah.” You duck your head–shyly, modestly–and he’s hooked. There’s one thing in this building that deserves awe and reverence more than your painting, and it’s you. “You know, you’re only the second person who’s come over tonight.”

“No way. They’re all just working their way back here,” he whispers before he can calculate a more articulate response.

But it works in his favor–your giggle is gorgeous, if a sound can be described that way. Sweet and syrupy, it seeps over him as if he’s standing under a cracked honeycomb. He hasn’t actually taken a drink of his champagne, and yet he can feel his nervous system tingling. You’re just that intoxicating.

“The gallery closes in half an hour,” you tell him–a little wistfully at that. “In my defense, I don’t have any family or friends in the area. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show, not with so many other talented artists here.”

It seems so indignantly unfair to Marcus. That you’re shoved into the far back corner of the gallery, that people haven’t come in droves from all over the country to see your work.

“Where are you from?” He asks as his mind finally starts to clear from the haze it’s been in the past few minutes. With only half an hour left on the job, he allows himself a small sip of the drink that he’s been cradling all night.

“New York. This is actually only my second exhibition,” you explain, and you almost sound shy about it; as if you need to be embarrassed about being young and fresh-faced in the art industry, as if you aren’t the most talented artist Marcus has ever met in person.

He hums in response, eyes unconsciously dragging over you once more. “You came a long way for this.”

You smile so prettily up at him, and in that moment he sees something in your eyes. He can’t describe it–maybe it’s something akin to longing. Something incomplete, unexplored. It’s familiar; it’s the red dot from your painting. Solitary amidst the swirling, lost yet not hopeless.

And just like your painting, he finds himself wanting to get lost in your eyes.

“Well, it’s not every day a gallery wants to host you,” you say after another sip of your drink. “Plus, I’ve never been to Texas before, and I needed a change of scenery.”

There’s something so charming, so boyishly intoxicating about the smile he graces you with. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s hotter than I’m used to,” you say with a chuckle that he echoes. “And I haven’t been able to do any exploring yet, my flight only got in a couple hours before I had to be here.”

“That’s a shame,” he hums in a tone that reveals deeper meaning. “How long are you here for? Do you have any plans?”

“A week,” you murmur. Subconsciously he leans in closer, on the edge of his proverbial seat. To seal the deal, you lean in too. “And not a damned one.”

There’s no air between you and Marcus. You exist in a vacuum for this moment–unable to breathe, choking on anticipation. He’s so close, yet way too far away. You want to be consumed by him–for him to be swirling blue; and you, a single speck of red in his midst.

The moment shatters with an audible sound–a deep, penetrating voice. “He’s still not here, huh? I don’t think your boyfriend’s coming. If he even exists.” There’s something strange in the raspy voice that drawls these words–something strange enough to immediately put Marcus on the alert.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion into your vacuum, but you recover quickly. You have to, because this intrusive stranger is standing way too close and has way too much alcohol on his breath.

And then something strange happens–you worm your arm around Marcus’s waist and press yourself firmly into his side.

“Actually, he’s right here,” you say. There’s a quality to your voice that wasn’t there before when you were just talking to Marcus–it’s firm, clipped, bordering on hostile. “He just got held up at work. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Thankfully, Marcus has always been one to think quickly on his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, unconsciously moving an inch or two in front of you. Protecting without really meaning to. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as soon as I could.”

The man–burly and balding, probably a good twenty years older than you–scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Is there a problem here?” Marcus draws up to his full height–towering a good few inches over this strange intruder.

Whoever this guy is, he’s not completely stupid. He senses this isn’t going to be a fight he’ll win, so he backs off. “Not at all, man. Just didn’t want little miss standing here all alone the whole night.”

“Thanks,” you say with bitter reprehension. You wind even closer to Marcus–closer than this sudden farce demands. “But we’re fine now.”

He nods once–curt and unhappy, but seemingly satisfied that he’s not going to get what he wants. “Have a good night, ma’am. Sir.”

Marcus takes a mental inventory of the man as he storms off, committing his physical description and his outfit to memory. He doesn’t look like a casual art viewer, and he doesn’t look like a collector. He’s exactly the type that Marcus came here to look out for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you step out of Marcus’s personal space. “He’s been hovering all night, asking me who I’m going home with and shit.”

“That’s the other guy who came over to talk to you?” It brings a deep frown to his face, a crease forming between his brows. It certainly raises a red flag–if the guy has any eye for value, of course he would be drawn to your exhibit. And if he has an eye for value, he could be the guy Marcus came for.

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and avert your gaze, as if you should be embarrassed for drawing that guy’s attention. “It’s not been the greatest night.”

Marcus hates that. He hates that you came all this way to be let down, that this is only your second exhibition and you’ve had such a bad experience with it. More than anything, he hates that he can still see the spark in your eyes when you look up at him, and he can tell that it’s dimmed.

“Gimme just a minute.”

He doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he wants to make it quick. He hustles to the single-stall men’s room and tugs the radio out of his inside jacket pocket to call in the man’s description. Then he turns it off, tucks it back into its concealed pocket, and goes over to the sink.

He thought he looked perfect for the part he had to play when he left his house to come here. Now, he’s too disheveled. He wets his fingertips and tries to tame the mess on top of his head; he re-buttons his shirt and tightens his tie. He looks flustered, and he’s not even surprised by it. You’ve got his heart pounding with anticipation in a way he doesn’t think it ever has before.

Butterflies fluttering on in his stomach, he emerges from the restroom to resume his position by your side.

Except you’re not by your exhibit anymore, and the crowd has thinned considerably. He checks his watch and realizes there’s only five minutes before the gallery closes for the night. Maybe you’ve decided to cut your losses and leave early.

He hates the way his gut twists with disappointment, but then he reminds himself that he didn’t come here for you. He’s working, and he needs to stay vigilant. No distractions, no complications.

“You’re still here.”

There’s a wave of relief that washes over him as he hears your voice, and this time he’s not too timid to turn towards you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thought I might’ve scared you off.” There’s a fresh cup of champagne in your hand and a hint of vulnerability in your voice, and it makes his heart pick up pace just the slightest bit. You duck your head–that shy, modest gesture again. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just done that without permission.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, more earnestly than he’s ever said anything in his life. “I didn’t mind at all, I swear. Just had to hit the head.”

You look so deeply into his eyes he almost wonders if you aren’t looking through him. But whatever you find, you must like it.

He clears his throat and tries to not show how thoroughly unraveled he is by your gaze. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.” You pause for a moment, and he can tell that there’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue–so he remains silent in hopes of drawing it out.

“Do you have someone to go home to?”

There it is–the invitation he was both dreading and hoping for. He should really lie. He’s here on a job, after all–he’s supposed to avoid complications, and some instinct tells him you’re going to be much more than a simple distraction. But he’s told you the truth so far, and he doesn’t want to stop now.

“No. No, I don’t.”

This is everything that Marcus has never even considered doing. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s a little chilly for spring in Austin. The alley is grimey and drafty–your hair blows in the breeze even as you kneel down before him.

All he can do is stand there, dumbstruck with his back up against the rough brick wall, and stare down at you.

He’s still breathless from the way you’ve been kissing him–all heat and passion, fire and brimstone. Your hands ran through his hair and undid the effort he put in while in the bathroom, and his hands clutched your waist in a futile attempt to ground himself. Your lips are so soft; he thinks he could kiss you forever and never get tired of it. He was certainly planning on finding out, until you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“You… you don’t have to–”

But the way you look up at him through your lashes makes his throat close up around whatever protest he was going to try.

“I want to,” you assure him–more of a purr than a spoken statement.

And this really isn’t the place. He shouldn’t let you do this here. But he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him harden in his boring gray work slacks.

Marcus has never been about excitement. He’s always strayed to the comfortable and familiar–he falls into the sweet, caring companion role with grace and ease.

And tonight doesn’t have to be that different. If you’re going to suck his dick in a dark, dingey alley, he’ll let you. But he’s going to lay his jacket down on the ground so you don’t scrape up your knees first.

You keen at the thoughtful gesture and grace him with a grateful smile as your adept fingers work his belt open. He’s straining against the seam of his pants now, begging for the attention that your gaze promises him.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re every bit as eager to get his trousers and boxers down as he is.

And Lord help him, he delights in the gasp you emit when his cock springs free from its confines.

“Fuck, Marcus.” Your lips actually part as you freeze for a moment, just taking him in. He’s thick, maybe an inch longer than average, swollen head peeking through uncut skin as if begging for your waiting mouth. He curves to the left just a little bit, and you can almost see his pulse thrumming through the prominent vein that runs along the length of him.

“S’not that impressive,” he mumbles, and you know that he knows that he’s full of shit.

Your fingers almost don’t wrap all the way around him, and suddenly you’re second-guessing this back alley stint, too. You want him in bed. You want him deep inside you, kissing your face as he fucks you, hands all over your body, thrusts hard yet slow. You want it languid, you want it desperate, you want it any way he’ll give it to you. You don’t want to blow him and say goodbye.

He calculates your hesitation as something other than pure unadulterated lust, and he lifts your chin gently with his index and middle fingers.

“Hey, we don’t have to–”

Again, you cut him off–this time, by dragging your tongue from the seam of his balls all the way along his length to swirl messily around his tip. You taste every heady inch of him and then moan at the salty foreshadowing on your tongue when you catch a droplet of precum leaking from his slit.

Your hand springs into action with a long, slow stroke along his cock, and then you sink your mouth around him and he moans. Without caution or pretense, like you’re not in an alley that anyone could walk down at any moment. It’s a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be and his head thumps back against the brick wall hard enough to hurt, and even still he’s never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure before in his life.

Your nose meets the neat patch of hair at his base and your free hand comes up to his hip, effectively pinning him against the wall when he tries to buck greedily even further into your mouth.

No one’s ever taken him so relentlessly before. You’re insistent, pressing onward even as you gag on his length, and it makes his balls tighten in a way he’s never felt before. It’s like you’re hungry for him; like you’re doing this more for your own pleasure than for his.

Marcus Pike has been a giver his whole life. Tonight, with you, he finally decides to take.

He’d be embarrassed about how fast he comes if you weren’t so eager for it. You moan around him and push yourself as deep as you can, throat working around him desperately not to choke on the size of him. Before he can warn you he’s spilling into your mouth, maybe more than he’s ever come before, thick and salty but undeniably sweet too. You allow yourself a moment to savor him as he pulses in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head of him in a way that makes him shiver and whine.

He’s panting, nearly light-headed, when you finally pull off of him and press one last gentle kiss over his slit.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, because there’s nothing else to say.

You giggle, and he realizes with a strange wistfulness that he would do anything to keep this girl–a girl he’s just met, a girl who’s leaving to go back to her home on the other side of the country in just a week–smiling and laughing the way she is now.

“My hotel is only a couple blocks away,” you tell him as he helps you to your feet. “Would you like a nightcap?”

You pick up his jacket and dust the grime off it–it makes him chuckle. Everything about this encounter has flown in the face of what he’s used to.

He’s never felt so alive.

“I would love a nightcap.”

Your senses wake up slower than normal.

First it’s your eyes–they tune in on the bright mid-sunrise light streaming through the open balcony blinds on the far wall. It falls in slivers and shards over the rumpled white hotel-standard bedding–the second thing your senses tune into. Everything is so soft and light, but it’s a little cold too. Especially the other side of the bed; there’s no heat remaining there at all.

You push yourself up with a grunt and let the sheets fall away from your bare torso, tired eyes scanning around the room. You notice clothes scattered all over the floor while your ears wake up enough to hear water running in the bathroom, and you can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads over your face. He’s still here.

Marcus lets the too-hot water wash over him in scalding waves, muscles still a little sore after a long night tangled together with you.

He checked his phone first thing this morning, and the gallery was quiet all night. They think the suspect he radioed in was the guy they were looking for, but they weren’t able to apprehend him. The running theory is that he might’ve recognized Marcus and decided low-value art wasn’t worth the hassle, but one guess is as good as the next until they can bait and catch the guy.

It’s the weekend now, and Marcus is thanking his lucky stars. Not only does he have a successful mission to celebrate, but he has the most beautiful woman in the world to celebrate it with.

He emerges after a few minutes, wet hair messily scattered over his forehead and wide hips straining against a low-slung hotel towel. He’s a languid Saturday morning wet dream on two legs.

“G’morning,” he hums with a smile–he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dip down to hungrily take in your naked torso.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He stalks towards you slowly, eyes darkening with each advancing step. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize he didn’t get his fill of your body last night, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He’s already starting to harden as he drops his towel and crawls over the foot of the bed, surging forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. If last night was desperation and passion, this morning is syrupy and sweet. He explores your mouth slowly, tongue sweeping between your lips and tracing every curve and ridge he can–almost like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

There are universes in the depths of his dark eyes. He may not say exactly what he’s thinking, but you can see it playing out in those baby browns of his. There’s something simmering underneath the surface–something more than just lust or desire.

Something dangerous.

You tug him closer and cup his face in your hands, enjoying the gentle scratch of morning stubble underneath your palms. He surges forward and presses you into the pillows as he settles himself comfortably between your spread legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs through kisses scattered along the length of your jaw.

You know you probably look like you got run over by a bus–you toss and turn in your sleep, and it always leaves your hair a matted mess. And that’s not even mentioning the slight tremble in your thighs, left over from Marcus’s enthusiastic attention last night. But there’s so much sincerity in his voice; you don’t think he would waste his breath saying it if he didn’t mean it, and that fact alone makes your heart pound with desire.

There’s a syrupy slowness to the way he moves down your body, lips leaving behind heavy wet kisses as he works down your chest and over your stomach.

And it’s almost like he senses the protest working its way up your throat when you feel his hot breath on your thighs, because he looks up at you and there’s sternness in his gaze. You got your fill last night, and now it’s his turn.

“May I?” He looks up at you from the apex of your thighs with big, round puppy eyes that are impossible to refuse–so you nod eagerly and don’t even try.

If you were eager to have him in your mouth last night, he’s desperate.

There’s no hesitation, no build-up. It’s almost aggressive, the way he buries his face in your heat. He laps like a dog at a bowl, hips canting into the mattress involuntarily as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growls into your sopping cunt. “You taste incredible.”

You keen at the praise and card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the damp, spiky strands when his tongue laves heavily over your sensitive clit.

Marcus’s greedy hands grip underneath your thighs and push them as far as you can comfortably spread them. You’re still so sensitive after at least three orgasms last night–you lost count after a point–and it serves to wind your nerves tighter than they’ve ever been wound before.

One hand slides to the junction of your thigh and his thumb comes to take over the pressure on your clit as his tongue plunges between your soaked folds. It’s even more overwhelming like this, and there’s not a thing in the world that you want to do more than let him have his fun. Especially when that hand and his tongue switch spots–his lips seal and suck around your clit while he presses two achingly thick fingers into your waiting entrance.

It actually makes your muscles tighten and your back rise off the bed as he curls his fingers just right to find that spot that makes you fall apart for him.

He can tell you’re getting close–he’s already so intune with the way your muscles twitch, the change of pitch in your moans. You whine and cry for him the tighter he winds the rubberband, and he’s eager to make it snap.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says over the overwhelming flutter of his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Let me have it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly as pleasure wracks through your body that you can see constellations. Large hands come to pin your thighs open as his tongue keeps working, lapping and gliding against your cunt with ease as a wave of arousal gushes from your entrance.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, and he’s just getting started.

He trails open-mouthed kisses up your body as you catch your breath–his slick-soaked lips coat your skin with your own arousal as he works his way up to allow you a taste of yourself.

The first wet lick of his tongue into your mouth makes you moan. It’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own slick–you’ve had a moment or two of curiosity–but it’s never been quite as enjoyable as it is on his tongue. It pairs so perfectly with the minty tang of toothpaste left on his breath and makes you hungry for more.

He moves fluidly under your direction as you push him onto his back and roll to straddle his lap all in one graceful movement. It’s perfect like this–he doesn’t have to support his weight so he can run his big meaty hands all over every inch of you, and you can kiss him as deep as you want while you grind down on his aching length.

“Shit, baby,” he pants against your lips. Those aforementioned beefy palms grasp hard at your asscheeks to guide your hips, pulling you into a slow, long grind that bumps the head of his cock against your clit deliciously.

Your pulse thrums with desperation until you’re seeing white–no more teasing, no more preamble. You take his girth in your hand and give him a firm stroke; if you had a little more presence of mind, you might be embarrassed at how wet his dick is simply from grinding against you for a few seconds.

“Go ahead, baby, take it when you’re ready.”

He gasps at the first press of his cockhead against your entrance, head flopping back against the pillows as his hands squeeze your asscheeks with bruising force.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he murmurs, throat working around a thick gulp. “You can take it baby, I know you can. Did so good for me last night.”

You think you would honestly do anything he asks of you so long as he just keeps talking like this.

It takes a moment for you to work your way down his length–he’s so mouth-wateringly thick and the curve of his cock hits the most delicious spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Atta girl,” he praises breathlessly as your hips settle flush against his. “Just sit there for a minute. So pretty on my dick.”

God, he makes your entire body flush with heat. He turns your blood to molten lava with his words, lighting every inch of skin on fire. You’ve never felt a sensation like this–so overwhelming yet so intoxicating.

You start with slow movements as his hands trace up and down your sides sweetly–it’s more like you’re grinding on him than anything else. His thumbs rub abstract little patterns into your skin as his hands work up to your tits; when he finally takes them in the palms of his hands and squeezes all pretense of soft, sweet morning-after sex flies out the window.

You drop down hard on his cock and it nearly punches the wind out of him.

“Yes!” He growls darkly. His eyes flash with something dangerous–it’s the only warning you get before his hand slaps the meat of your ass and grabs a greedy handful. “Just like that baby, use my fuckin’ dick.”

And maybe, if he was someone else, you wouldn’t be nearly as eager to follow instructions. But with Marcus, you’re nothing if not obedient.

Last night was exploration and discovery–hours into the early morning spent learning each other’s bodies, finding what makes the other squirm and whine and beg. This morning is in perfect juxtaposition to that sweet, soft, probing sex–you know what drives each other crazy now, and you each use it to your advantage. Aggressively.

He surges up to suck a pert nipple into his mouth as you set a hard pace on him, long fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He lands another sharp smack to your ass when your thighs start to shake–a reward for using his cock exactly how he asked.

”M-Marcus—”

”I know, sweetheart,” he purrs through a guttural moan. He cants his hips up to meet your thrusts at just the right moment—he hits something so devastatingly pleasurable that your vision prickles white around the edges. “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me.”

There’s a condescending note to his voice that only makes you squeeze harder around his cock, and within seconds you’re hurtling uncontrollably into ecstasy.

He fucks you through the telltale fluttering of your cunt even when your hips stop moving; strong hands hold you in place and work you through the ebbing waves of pleasure that wrack through your entire body.

”M’so close, honey,” he grunts with a particularly sharp thrust upward. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Where do you want me?”

”I-inside,” you gasp. “Come inside me, Marcus.”

He fills you as soon as he has your instruction—hard thrusts punctuated by breathy moans as he pumps you full of his release.

There’s a long, silent moment where Marcus pulls your bare chest tightly against his own and you pant into the crook of his neck while trying desperately to even-out your breathing. His fingertips dance across your skin-feather-light, soothing.

The sun is higher in the sky now and meets your eyes with blinding rays through the balcony shutters when they finally open again.

”That was amazing, honey,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s caught his own breath now, but he doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. “How’re you so perfect?”

”M’not perfect,” you mumble into his shoulder; but even to your own ears, it sounds half-hearted. The truth is, he’s so earnestly honest that you believe him.

He hums his dissent with a kiss pressed to your hairline. ”You are to me.”

And you so desperately want to believe him that you don’t even try to argue.

You bask in this warm, lovely afterglow for a few moments longer before Marcus gently taps your hip. ”Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You pull off of his softened cock with a whine and try not to get worked up all over again at the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. ”Th-there’s a free continental breakfast downstairs.”

”Oh, then I’ll definitely pick up the tab,” he jokes with a smirk—all you want to do is kiss his goofy, stupidly handsome face.

He pulls you into the bathroom and starts the water running to fill the tub—he’s never really been a bath guy, but your legs are a little too shaky to endure a shower. He’s so attentive—from running a damp cloth between your legs to helping lower you into the water. He doesn’t complain in the slightest when you catch his hand and ask him to join you; he just shuffles you forward and slides in behind you like it’s a casual act that he performs with every hookup.

It’s intimate. That’s really the only way to describe it. You sit between his spread legs, back to his chest, head rested back against his shoulder while his fingers ghost idle paths over your skin. You don’t talk; you don’t really need to. Somehow, you fit together like souls who have known each other for years. Like all you’ve been missing is each other.

You drift off in his arms as he traces soap over all the curves and ridge of your body, the steady beat of his heart thumping in your ear.

It breaks his heart a little bit to wake you—the fact that you’re so comfortable with him, that you trust him with such vulnerability, makes his head spin a little bit. But the water’s turning cold, and the last thing he wants is for you to come down sick or something.

He rouses you with gentle, feathery kisses scattered over your rosy-scented shoulders and neck.

”Mmm… what time is it?” You grumble, pressing your sleep-addled face further into the crook of his neck.

”Just after noon,” he whispers into your hair after glancing up at the clock on the wall.

He can feel the way your mouth shifts into a pout. “Shit. We missed breakfast.”

The adorable downward tilt of your frown as you lift your dad to look at him makes his heart flutter. “Let’s go out, then. The first farmer’s market of the season is going on downtown. I’m sure we can find something good for brunch.”

”Kinda sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you hum with a slight smirk dancing at your lips.

”Maybe I am.” His tone is light, his meaning clear—he knows this goes beyond a one-night stand, and there’s no harm done if you’re not wanting to cross this boundary. He’d understand not wanting to get too serious about someone who lives thousands of miles away from your home, of course. He’d never blame you.

You give him your best appraising look, staring deep into those constellation-filled brown eyes. ”You’re not sick of me yet?”

”I have a feeling I couldn’t get sick of you if I tried.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone, in his eyes. He genuinely wants to spend time with you, even if there’s nowhere for this to really go.

You hum thoughtfully. “I do love farmer’s markets.”

You’re with Marcus more often than not over the course of the next week.

He takes you sightseeing to some of his favorite spots around Austin, brings you to his favorite restaurants, shows you his favorite movies. But he multitasks—while teaching you about himself, he learns as much as he can about you and picks activities he knows you’ll love, too.

He’s a pragmatist; he knows your time together is short, and he wants to make himself unforgettable. If he never sees you again, he wants you to think about him every once in a while and look back on this time fondly.

You spend your days while Marcus is at work painting or drawing or lingering around the gallery, and you fall asleep in his arms every night. With shades of gray moonlight and candlelight cast over your hotel room, it almost feels like this could go on forever.

He tells you to wear something nice before he picks you up on the last night–he wants to celebrate in style, which starts with reservations at an up-scale restaurant.

He’s so achingly handsome. He’s in a matching gray suit over a white button-up, top two buttons undone and no tie to be seen. His face bears the slightest five o’clock shadow and your eyes gravitate to the curve of his lips–the instant smile that takes over his face when those gorgeous brown eyes of his land on you.

If you never see him again, this is exactly how you want to remember him.

“Wow,” he whispers reverently. “You look amazing.”

It’s not the most impressive dress you own, but he looks at you like you’re wearing something worth millions–like you’re worth millions.

You lean up and kiss him, and everything feels right. His hands rest on your waist and it’s so easy to pretend that you won’t be on the other side of the country twenty-four hours from now.

The restaurant is beautiful. Dimly lit and romantic, tables spaced enough to give you some privacy. He takes your hand on top of the table and holds it the entire meal. The conversation is light and airy–you’re both stubbornly dancing around what really needs to be said.

Dessert is cleared and the wine bottle is empty by the time Marcus finally works up the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I don’t want you to go.”

You knew this would be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You avert your gaze, instead focusing on his large hand wrapped around yours and the windshield wiper motion of his thumb tracing back and forth over your palm. No one’s touch has ever sent such electric tingles through your nervous system the way his does.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all.

“Look, I…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his spine a little bit, hand leaving yours to gently cup your chin. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he breaks your heart. “I think this could really be something, if we gave it a shot.”

You haven’t lied to him yet, and you don’t plan to start now. “I… I think it could, too. If I didn’t have to go back.”

“Don’t go back then.” There’s a firmness to his voice, but it couldn’t be any more obvious that he’s begging if he actually got down on his knees. “Stay here with me. We’ll figure this out. Just… don’t go.”

And here–with his earnest eyes on yours and his gentle, loving touch on your skin–it’s easy to pretend that it’s that simple.

He takes you back to your hotel room and sheds you easily out of your dress. As cliche as it sounds, it’s not just sex this time. Things that it’s too early to say are buried deep within every kiss, every thrust. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and looks deeply into your eyes while he fills you and you’ve never felt so overwhelmingly connected.

The thud of his heartbeat is insistent in your ear as you come down from your high–so calming, so heartbreaking. You lay on his chest while his breathing evens out and soak up these last few moments of bliss. And then, once you’re sure he’s sound asleep, you carefully worm out of his grip. There’s one more thing you have to do before you go back to New York.

Loud, insistent ringing pulls Marcus from the depths of sleep. He tries to ignore it and go back to sleep, but now that his senses are alert, the sound in combination with bright Saturday morning sunlight won’t allow him the luxury. He presses his face deeper into the pillow that he’s somehow wound himself around in his sleep, but that damned ringing won’t stop.

He sits up slowly and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes–and that’s when he notices the empty sheets next to him. Your side of the bed is long cold, and he knows. Before he even sees the note on the dresser and your room key next to it, he knows you’re gone.

He finds his trousers discarded halfway between the bed and the door and pulls his blaring phone out of the pocket.

“The gallery got hit sometime early this morning. They took everything. Every goddamn piece. You need to get here now.”

His body moves on autopilot as he pulls yesterday’s clothes back on, fingers numb to all sensation as they work to button his shirt. This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.

He notices the note on the dresser as he’s threading his belt through the loops of his trousers, and his gut twists with a sickening sense of foreboding.

I really did fall for you, Marcus. But nothing good starts in a getaway car.

He’s not sure if you knew who he was the whole time and this whole thing was calculated, or if you just got lucky. He doesn’t want to believe you’re that cunning and cruel. He wants to believe that this is just a misunderstanding, that you’re out for ice or something and you’ll walk back through the door at any moment.

But you don’t.

The note is enough of a confession for him. He’ll have the power of the FBI on his side to find you–and he will find you. What he’ll do when he does, he’s not sure. He guesses he’ll know when he sees you.

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike one shot #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist one shot #cece writes

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 2 months

Text

You've Got Some Nerve Trying to Buy Me

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Silvio: "Alright then, let's see what you all have brought."

At Silvio's command, the gathered merchants eagerly began to showcase the items they had brought.

Merchant 1: "This is a rare crystal said to exist only in a few places on the continent."

Merchant 2: "This is a golden cup crafted over the course of a year by a master goldsmith known as the Arm of God."

Merchant 3: "This is the fur of a beast that inhabits only limited areas in the north."

Merchant 4: "This painting is said to be the final work of a legendary artist."

With the opportunity to buy Silvio's favor for his birthday, the merchants display their carefully selected items one after another.

(I've never seen these things before.)

(You could buy an entire country with this stuff.)

Silvio: "You're the last one."

(.........)

All the eyes in the hall turned towards me.

I had prepared myself, but my legs still trembled with nervousness.

Silvio: "This all started because you wished for something in exchange for my birthday."

Silvio: "Let's see what the one who started it all has brought."

Emma: "Sure."

(It's gonna be okay. He gave me a hint last night.)

(As the fiancée of the continent's top merchant, I can't afford to lose.)

Emma: "I've prepared the thing you want the most."

I spoke clearly and presented the item.

Merchant 1: "What's that piece of paper?"

Merchant 2: "What is this woman thinking?"

As murmurs spread through the crowd, Silvio silently took the letter and read it.

After a while,

Silvio: "Geez..."

He carefully folded the letter he had just finished reading and let out a big sigh.

Silvio: "As frustrating as it is, this is what I want the most right now."

(----!)

Merchants: "What!?"

Silvio: "As promised, I'll let you buy me."

Emma: "Thank you, Prince Silvio!"

(Phew, it worked!)

Merchant 1: "What's going on? Is that some kind of contract?"

Merchant 2: "What kind of deal did that woman make?"

The hall buzzed with surprise at the unexpected turn of events.

As I felt the gazes of awe and even fear directed at me, Silvio quietly hid his blushing face with his hand.

The next day,

Having successfully won his birthday at the auction, I stayed at the villa.

From the moment we woke up, I spent a dreamlike day with him, from baking a cake to having fun at the beach.

As the sky began to change color, he and I sat side by side on the sandy beach, leisurely watching the sunset.

(We really were together all day from morning till now.)

The pleasant evening breeze cooled my skin, warmed by the wine.

Wearing the dress I'd prepared for today, with my hair tied back, the sea breeze felt even more refreshing than usual.

(I didn't think I'd end up relaxing with him on his birthday.)

(It feels like I received a gift, even though it's his birthday.)

Silvio: "Using the time you won to watch the sunset, you've really started to indulge in some real luxuries."

Emma: "I'm the fiancée of the richest man on the continent, after all."

Silvio: "No argument there."

Silvio: "Still, I didn't expect you to sneak in pretending to be a merchant."

Emma: "Were you surprised?"

Silvio: "Yeah. You really are a woman who never goes along with my plans."

(I was worried about how things would turn out, but I'm glad we could celebrate his birthday like this.)

Silvio: "To be honest, my plans were getting a bit off track, so your proposal was a godsend."

(Plans?)

(Carlo seemed to be hiding something too. I wonder if there was a reason he stayed cooped up in the villa.)

(The merchants seemed to have gathered for the birthday celebration, but...)

(That reminds me.)

------------Flashback-----------

Merchant 2: "You're right. We would also like to celebrate on the day if permitted."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(The way he said that sounds like they weren't allowed to celebrate on the actual day.)

(Even though I won the auction, he really gave me his entire day free.)

(Could it be...?)

Emma: "Were you staying in the villa because you were keeping your entire birthday free?"

Silvio: "..........."

He silently turned away and sipped from his glass.

Emma: "Prince Silvio."

Silvio: "I just didn't feel like dealing with the usual hassle of merchants swarming around me."

(Sure, being celebrated by various people on your birthday could be hectic, but spending an entire week cooped up in the villa was way harder.)

(He went to such lengths to make time for me.)

Silvio: "You didn't need to take such a big risk and write such an embarrassing letter, you know?"

Silvio: "I had my birthday free all along. Tough luck for you."

Emma: "It's mean to call it embarrassing!"

Emma: "You were blushing and getting all red-faced too!"

Silvio: "I was not!"

Emma: "You were!"

Silvio: "Do you have any idea how I felt having to read that letter in front of everyone?"

Silvio: "You took the opportunity to write all sorts of lovesick nonsense."

(He's right. I might have gotten a bit carried away.)

The letter was filled with my heartfelt love for him.

"I, Emma, can make Silvio enjoy, and feel loved on his birthday more than anyone else."

I wrote that I could provide something invaluable that money could never buy.

Emma: "I thought it had to be something significant to win you over."

Silvio: "What I wanted wasn't a letter."

(Yeah. What Silvio wants the most isn't a rare item or a letter—it's me.)

(That night, he came to tell me that.)

Emma: "Thank you."

I leaned against him, letting the slight intoxication take over.

Emma: "I love that about you."

Silvio: "What's that? I didn't catch that. What do you love about me?"

He pulled me closer, his eyes challenging me as they locked onto mine.

(Wait, did I say that out loud!?)

Emma: "Uh, well, I love how you do so much for me and how you love me."

Silvio: "Anything else?"

I realized he was playing with the strap of my dress, making my heart race even more.

Emma: "Everything I wrote in that letter!"

Silvio: "A letter isn't enough. Say it straight to my face like you do when you're being cheeky."

(..........)

He grabbed my chin and made me face him.

(I'm blushing.)

(Is this how he felt when he read my letter?)

Emma: "You're a tyrant, stubborn, and a mean demon."

Silvio: "Hey."

Emma: "But you always take care of me and love me."

Emma: "Every time you do something for me, I get so happy I can hardly contain myself."

Emma: "I love how you always think of me."

Emma: "Thank you for letting me celebrate this special day of yours."

Silvio: ".........."

Silvio: "You're blushing too."

Emma: "Of course I am. Saying something like this face-to-face is... mmph."

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, and his tongue traced my lower lip.

The lingering scent of alcohol mingled with the kiss, making my head swim.

Emma: "Ah…"

He pulled away, and a soft sigh escaped me.

Silvio: "Hah, this is the most fulfilling birthday I've ever had."

Silvio: "You think so too, right?"

His provocative gaze made my rationality crumble, and the loneliness I'd been storing for a week surfaced.

Emma: "Prince Silvio, let's go back to our room."

Emma: "It's getting dark, and the wind is picking up."

Silvio: "Is that the only reason?"

Emma: "Yes."

Silvio: "You're a terrible liar."

Emma: "......."

His fingers, which had been playing with my dress strap, now traced up my shoulder to my neck.

Silvio: "This whole day is yours."

Silvio: "If you want to go to our room, I'll make it happen."

Silvio: "After all, you still haven't paid the full amount for the day you bought."

We returned to the villa, and I gave him the one thing he wanted most—myself.

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4

#ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen prince #ikepri #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #cybird #otome

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minhosimthings · 10 months

Text

Skz under the Mistletoe

Pairings: bf!Skz × implied fem!reader

Warnings: FLUFF FLUFF NOTHING BUT FLUFF, mention of food, a bit suggestive in Minho and Changbin's

A/N: I needed something to help refresh this dumb brain of mine cause I CANNOT work on any of my smut wips rn so here ya go! Also I know it's not Christmas yet and this is really Christmassy but y'all I live in Scotland. ITS ALWAYS CHRISTMAS MUHAHAHA

Bang Chan/ Christopher

this mf would start giggling so hard

I'm like a hundred percent positive he would deliberately hang mistletoe above you

Imagine you're baking cookies and you're too busy to give him a kiss

And he just pouts and stalks off ☹️ somewhere to do God knows what

And then you find him sitting on the couch with mistletoe on his hair

"baby quick! Kiss me I'm under mistletoe! Don't you know it's bad luck if you don't kiss someone under mistletoe?"

You'd give in of course, not wanting to sadden your adorable boyfriend,🥺 who looked even more adorable with heaps of mistletoe stuck to his curls

Please save me I am obsessed with this man

Lee Minho/ Lee Know

This man

This man istg

HE WILL STRAIGHT UP REFUSE TO KISS YOU

"I wouldn't kiss your dumb face normally why would I do it now?"

Meanie 😐

But he'd immediately melt on seeing your pouty face and sad expression

So like the great boyfriend he is, he'd tie strings of mistletoe to Soonie's collar and send her to you.

"alright we need to kiss your mom on her stupidly cute face so go to her and don't mess this up."

Soonie would walk up to you followed by Minho and he would just meekly be like "Mistletoe?"

CUTIES NXJSJS

Would a 100% pick you up and throw you on the bed, saying that mistletoe doesn't only consist of kisses 😏

Changbin/ Seo Changbin

ISTG I WILL COMBUST RIGHT HERE

Bang Chan part 2

He'd be so giggly and blushing so profusely when you both would notice you're under mistletoe

Like if it was at a party or something, and everyone was shouting "Kiss!" At the both of you, how could he refuse?

Would definitely do that thing where he squeezes your waist

It would be such a soft kiss istg

Would probably take you up to the bedroom after the kiss though

Hyunjin/Hwang Hyunjin

GIRL THE WAY HE'S BLUSHING SO HARD YOU'D THINK HE SMEARED PAINT ON HIMSELF

You'd decorate his art studio with mistletoe

Specifically putting it above the place where you'd pose for him when he's painting you

This man would probably be confused at first like he's so immersed in painting,

And then you're like "Hyunjin look mistletoe!"

Bitch will be like "You want me to paint the mistletoe in the picture too?"

Truly the leader of PaboRacha

But afterwards he'd give you the most precious kiss ever

Just so soft, warms wrapped around your waist

"Wanna make some hot chocolate darling?"

I need to stop Hyune is wrecking me too hard

Han/Han Jisung

Ngl he would be the one badgering you

"ooh baby where did this mistletoe come from?"

*holds the mistletoe above your head*

Would pout when you'd say you'll give him kisses later, because you need to get ready for work

Literal sparkly eyes begging you for a kiss

You'd give in eventually, how could you refuse the power of the Han Jisung puppy eyes?

"baby did you kiss me because of the mistletoe or because of my charms?"

SO FUCKING ADORABLE

Felix/Lee Yongbok

Alright I'm imagining this is Australia because obviously you guys went to visit his family for the holidays

His sister's would a 100% prank him with mistletoe

NAUR cause they'd hang mistletoe over your bed, and when you and felix spot it, they'd pull out their phones to record you guys kissing

DEFINETLY did not do that to my gf once nope

"oh sunshine look mistletoe! Should we have a kiss then?"

MY SWEET POOKIE BROWNIE SUGAR PUMPKIN PIE I love him saur much

Seungmin/Kim Seungmin

Bruh this guy

I swear to god this guy

KIM MF "it's a childish thing to do" SEUNGMIN

NAUR he WILL make fun of you for wanting to do it

Like you're just goofing off, decorating the house for Christmas

And you decide to jokingly put mistletoe on his hair

He'll just roll his eyes and go back to his book, completely ignoring the grass on his hair

And you'd be like bitch kiss me we're under mistletoe

"Seriously pup, you still believe in that childish crap?"

And he's done it, he's upset you great job Seungmin (I don't know why I'm so salty towards him rn)

And then he'd just sigh, looking at your pouty face

Then he'll proceed to grab your face in his hands and kiss you in the most devastating way ever

"next time when you want a kiss, just ask for it darling."

Wodjdjeb you will not survive

I.N/Yang Jeongin

AHH INNIE KDISSHD

Lemme calm down first

THIS GUY WOULD BE SO AMAZING

Look if there's anyone in Skz who believes in miracles and the holy spirit and whatnot

IT'S HIM

Flashback to when he wanted to be a priest

Giggles and blushes part 3

Girl he legit kiss you for so long if you do that

Iike sir you need to breathe too stop with the smooches

He'll legit kiss you in the middle of a store if there's mistletoe there

Like just in the middle of the hygiene aisle, where there's mistletoe decorating the shelves

Just BAM his lips are on uours

"We can't resist the power of the mistletoe honey."

I swear to God this man will be the death of me

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maniculum · 10 months

Text

Bestiaryposting: Wutugald Results

All right, time to see what everyone came up with for the Wutugald! Again, if that statement confuses you, you may find an explanation at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting . If you want a refresher on the description the artists were working with, here is the original post:

This was a pretty good creature to start with, I think; the random number generator did us a solid with this one. It laid to rest some concerns I had: will people be able to put aside their real-world knowledge of these animals and draw as if they had never heard of them? Yes, apparently -- a number of comments and notes indicated that several participants had guessed what the Wutugald was, refrained from sharing that information, and drew something that fit the description while being nevertheless a fully distinct animal. I was also concerned about some of the upcoming entries that specify a type of animal (bird, serpent, &c.), wondering if that constraint would be a problem -- but a number of people drew some Very Good Birds for this one, so I feel reassured that future entries that are Explicitly A Bird will still be material we can have fun with.

So, let's see what people created. I'm putting these in roughly the order in which they appeared, below the cut:

@cosmic-flora (link to post here) produced this in Paint pretty shortly after the original post went up, and posted it with a brief explanation of their design decisions -- they were the first but not the last to interpret the rigid spine as spikes and the single tooth as a beak, and also to provide the creature with claws for digging.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) was also quick off the mark, posting this the same evening along with an explanation of their design process. I'm genuinely impressed by how quickly they were able to draw something so naturalistic -- this went up within like four hours of the original post. This was also the first (but again not the last) to include an apparent reference to the Wutugald's ability to change sex by including both male genitalia and noticeable teats. Also, I wonder if the coat pattern on the baby is a sneaky reference to the animal this is based on, as Silverhart does indicate that they figured it out.

@elodieunderglass (link to post here) created this rendition, which I think does a good job at capturing the vibe in the bestiary entry, of a creature that the medieval author clearly sees as discomfiting and somewhat sinister. That is a grin that makes me worry about the critter's intentions.

@geeoharee (link to post here) posted this along with a brief explanation of their design decisions. The human face and the speech bubble are great, I think -- it makes me smile. I think this is the first non-mammalian Wutugald, but several more come later.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) drew this with a dip pen, apparently, which is cool. Also this might be the cuddliest-looking version, but my desire to hug it probably says more about my own sense of self-preservation than anything else. That is a cute face, right? It's not just me?

@cinqueform (link to post here) produced this wonderfully medieval-styled image. We can see here the ruler-straight spine and the depiction of the Wutugald's sexual ambiguity, as well as a human-like face for imitating speech. Also a very nice stylized letter W.

@rautavaara (link to post here) has also done a medieval-style rendition, which is excellently sinister in presentation. That is a Worrying Creature. It's also the first (but again not the last) avian interpretation of the Wutugald, which I think really works. Also I'm not sure if this is a sneaky nod to what the animal actually is, or just a case of "great minds think alike", but Rautavaara's interpretation of the rigid spine is very similar to the one in the actual Aberdeen Bestiary illustration I will show y'all at the end of this post.

@spontaneousmusicalnumber (link to post here) posted this along with a brief explanation of their design process. I think they're right about the side pattern being appropriate for a bestiary critter.

@strixcattus (link to post here) did another avian rendition of the Wutugald complete with a fantastic lengthy reinterpretation of the bestiary entry through the eyes of a modern naturalist. Seriously, go check that out, it's very good.

@fidgetyhands (link to post here) provides this image of the Wutugald along with an explanation of their design choices. They also note that limitations in terms of artistic material are probably relevant to a lot of bestiary drawings.

@jamiethekeener (link to post here) gives us this Wutugald in the act of digging. She instructs that we should not ask why her interpretation of Wutugald ended up being so unsettling, which I cannot deny that it is. (That smile... that damn smile.) I also want to highlight the interpretation of the rigid spine as a shield-like plate along the back.

@thewhetherman (link to post here) gives us this rather-frightening-looking creature, along with a brief commentary that definitely ups the spook factor on this whole thing.

@bruncikara (link to post here) also went with a medieval stylization, with a very period-appropriate pose and frame. We can see again some digging claws and a nod to the animal's sexual ambiguity. Wicked-looking single tooth, also.

@mobileleprechaun (link to post here) has given us what I think is our only invertebrate Wutugald by interpreting the rigid spine as a shell and the single tooth as a radula. Shown here with its half-lion offspring.

@illogarithmil (link to post here) has also taken inspiration from medieval bestiary art, noting the unusual color and perspective choices typical of the genre. Note the straight tail, the skull, and the doorway in the background -- presumably into a tomb of some sort. The diamond-pupilled eye is striking.

@qwertyprophecy (link to post here) gives us this Wutugald who manages to strike an excellent balance between "cute" and "villainous". Like, I would expect to see these hopping around to signal that the Protagonists have entered the Sinister Fantasy Kingdom, but it's also kind of adorable. I think the gemstone pupil helps with that vibe. Vulture face is for easier eating of corpses, I assume.

@aaclysm (link to post here) provides both a final version and a "messy bus sketch". We can see the stone-like eyes, the single tooth interpreted as a beak, and the rigid spine interpreted as a carapace. Kind of griffin-like vibes, which I'm enjoying.

@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) gives us this drawing, which has some delightful details. I like the lines on the shadow, which I assume is meant to indicate the magical effects associated with it. Also love that the Wutugald's ability to change sex is acknowledged by giving it a little trans-pride flag to wave with its tail. I believe the text in its speech bubble is intended to be word-salad, demonstrating that it imitates but does not understand human speech.

@pachelbelsheadcanon (link to post here) gives us another very cute Wutugald. (More of these than I expected are downright cuddly.) I'm particularly delighted by the attempt to take the whole "single tooth that closes like a casket" thing at its word and make it work. They provide in their post an explanation of what's going on with that and some other interesting zoological details of their creation. I also enjoy the idea that the Wutugald talks like bot-generated spam.

@changeinenthalpy (link to post here) has produced this fairly-intimidating-looking critter. This definitely looks like something that could dig up and eat a corpse if it wanted. Nasty claws on that beast. The shiny gemstone eyes give it an unsettling gaze also.

@aethergeologist (link to post here) gives us this creature, which I both want to pet and also want to keep a healthy distance from because those claws look like they could mess you up. They provide an explanation for their design choices in the linked post.

@karthara (link to post here) has added to our store of avian Wutugalds, and includes a brief explanation of their design choices in the linked post. I like how happy it seems in the side view -- all excited about its corpse-digging plans for the evening.

@moustawott (link to post here) created this delightfully prehistoric-looking beast, and provides a detailed account of their design choices in the linked post. I think the snapping-turtle face really works here, and this is probably one of the most dangerous-looking interpretations of the Wutugald.

@cattorneyatlaw (link to post here) has drawn an unusually porcine Wutugald. Probably one of the spookier pig drawings I've seen. They provide an explanation of their design choices -- including "why a pig" -- in the linked post.

@curiouslyodd (link to post here) has given us a Wutugald with a very unsettling face and an interesting fur pattern. In the linked post, they not only provide an explanation of their design choices, but also a detailed and well-written reinterpretation of the bestiary entry based on the animal as they have drawn it. Go check that out.

@treesurface (link to post here) has done an interestingly chimeric Wutugald, and includes a brief explanation of their design choices in the linked post. I like the head particularly.

And... hm. We're not going to be able to fit all of the images in one post. The limit is thirty, right? Stay tuned for a bit, I guess. The remaining Wutugalds will be in a reblog of this post, along with the reveal of the animal's identity and the Aberdeen Bestiary's interpretation of the creature.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #wutugald

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nipuni · 7 months

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Some various lighthearted life updates 🏃‍♀️

It's been a very busy last few months! in a good way mostly. We had a friend visiting us from overseas so we showed him around the city and took him to all our favourite places. We also met new people and were invited to a bunch of events so it's been very fun! We are all out of social battery tho so now we are slowing down a bit and getting back to work. Nicolas is on a short work trip to Berlin and I'm back to painting. We also started running! aaand we are also back to watching a bunch of shows and to me talking about it here to like five people 😌

Under the cut cause it's a lot as usual!

We finished watching S13 of Doctor Who! (we still have the specials to go but after that we are all caught up!) I haven't updated in ages so here are lot of opinions!

We really did not enjoy S11 😞 I was aware it wasn't very popular but we were hoping it was for all the wrong reasons, sadly we found many to be valid. Some of the episodes were baffling, Rosa? Kerblam?! the writing of the whole season in general felt like a rushed school assignment. The first part of Spyfall was a strong start for the next season but that ending in the second part was really not it. We did love Sacha Dhawan's Master tho!! and we really love Jodie too, 13th is adorable and reminded us of Ten at times! Jodie is such a fantastic actress that it makes the quality of the writing and everything else around her even more frustrating 😫 S12 was an improvement in general. In the last few episodes It felt like the writing team suddenly remembered the companions could have a personality and agency lmao. Highlights for us were Spyfall one, Fugitive of the Judoon and Haunting of villa Diodati, tho we did also enjoy most other episodes of the season despite their issues.

The timeless child plot reveal felt a bit underwhelming? The idea on itself has potential but it felt mishandled (and it had a bit of a Moffat flavour to it? and not in a good way). I think it was meant to add more depth to the Doctor's lore but in a way it ends up having the opposite effect. Then the flux was just a complete mess. It read like a Marvel sort of plot, very comic book like which is alright I suppose if that is something you enjoy but it felt out of place. But mostly it was just way too much, it got out of hand. Anyway we still have the specials to watch! and I think the Master is in them so we are looking forward to it 🥰

We also watched Broadchurch!! and we LOVED it. We ended up binging all three seasons. Chibnall's writing on this is surprisingly great and Jodie's acting is spectacular she really shines here. Olivia and David are always brilliant!! honestly everyone's acting was amazing. This series had us both tearing up every five scenes. The direction and the music are outstanding. I could watch Hardy and Miller solve crimes forever I really love their chemistry and dynamic. We went into it expecting the usual detective fiction but it ended up being a whole study on grief with such a focus on family and community and trauma and a ton of touching interconnected character arcs, just really really good!!

Then we also watched Taking over the Asylum!! MAN we were not expecting to have our hearts wrung out like laundry by this!! We thought it was a lighthearted show!! GOD we are still not over it, what the fuck!! It was so good we loved it!! but we were not prepared lmao what do you mean 'the end'?? we'll be thinking of this for months, I was expecting an extra scene after the credits or something. Excellent characters, refreshing depictions of mental illness and trauma and so crushingly realistic. Every character is so loveable I really wish this was longer 😭

And our quest to watch everything with David Tennant on it continues. We watched Decoy Bride on Valentines day too and it was terrible but such a hilarious fever dream kind of bad that it was fun, it has David on it and he never disappoints. I feel so lucky that Nicolas and I are both in love with him, get yourself a man who shares your celebrity crushes lmao it's so fun!! We feel like teens again chatting about him and drawing little hearts next to his pictures haha 🥰 We watched the BAFTAs just for him and speaking of the baftas!! I was not expecting that last drawing of his outfits to get that much attention oh my god 😭 thank you!! you are all insane and I appreciate it so much!! and thank you for all the support in general, about my art and photos and just everything. I feel very lucky and grateful 😭 anyway I'll end this before I get sappy, that is all for now! I hope this week is kind to you all, I'll be sharing some more art soon 😊

#personal #DW report #doctor who #broadchurch #taking over the asylum #nips blogs

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brightness-at-onesixth · 11 months

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I’ve been kicking around the idea to create a sort of hybrid of Monster High g1 and g3, with a bit of my own aesthetic flare to the core characters! There are still have a few tweaks I want to make but overall I’m really happy with them and I hope you guys like them too.

This is sort of my “proof of concept” for my “ideal” Monster High doll line – the g1 head / face sculpts combined with the g3 bodies and a slightly more detailed face paint style.

I do really love g3 a lot. Obviously I’m a huge fan of the improved articulation, larger scale, and sturdiness of the bodies. I actually do like the new headsculpts and even prefer the screening style of the eyes! But there is something so beautifully detailed and magical about Lily Martinez’s sculpts. They’re very “bjd meets bratz” in a way, with features that are both delicate and exaggerated.

Everyone got makeup and hair refreshes to make them a bit more glam and I had so much fun getting to work with each of the characters.

#custom dolls #fashion dolls #monster high #monster high g3 #monster high restyle #doll collector #vintage doll clothes #doll fashion #monster high custom #ooak doll #monster high gen 1 #draculaura #frankie stein #clawdeen wolf

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dreadfuldevotee · 1 month

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Thank you for this last post. The discourse on this fandom can often be so annoying. I hate it when people are like "this is a Gothic horror, let them be toxic and problematic!!!!11!!!1" because it's not take they think it is? At the end of the day, they still want us to root for these characters and relationships, right? So how can we do that if they're stereotyped vampires, who is dark, cold, just hurt each other and don't have an ounce of growth, development, empathy and humanity? And this is such a dismissive opinion of the show and even the books, because their conflict with humanity and vampirism is a central aspect of the plot. That said, if you reduce them to the abuse alone, you're also missing the point of the story? I mean, you can totally have your opinion, you can see them as unforgivable even on this fictional universe, you can hate and root against them... But this show isn't about punitivism, it is about them navigating immortality. There are consequences for their actions, as there should be, but the goal is for them to find a way to make this work. You don't need to agree (idgaf about the British monarchy and still watched a few episodes of The Crown for the acting, for example), but if you expect otherwise, you're just playing yourself? But this fandom seems to have a problem with finding a good balance. Not to mention the hypocrisy of never forgiving certain characters and reducing them to their problematic actions, but treating their faves very different lol. And I'm like, okay, you don't need to love everyone, it's okay to have a favorite, but at least don't be contradictory? Your fave does the exact same thing or worse? Anyways. Thanks again for putting it so well. It's refreshing to see posts like that here.

Thank you! I'm glad that other people get anything out of my ranting and raving, as I am a chronic yapper and really only talk for my own health LOL.

But yeah, there is a lot of selective hearing in any fandom, really; but it pisses me off a lot here because of all the "Gothic Horror" handwaving going on. Interacting with the fandom, reading the books and seeing clips & bits of personal writings from Anne Rice, the image it paints for me is a profound unwillingness to engage with contents of the story if they're not fun and sexy. Shit, even my own odyssey into the books is spurred on in one part, to be able to form my own opinion and critique on the writing and secondly, realizing that book readers were straight up lying at times about how things went down.

And there is this persistent idea I've seen on here and twitter of "If you have issue with XYZ then this series isn't for you" and like, okay if you don't wanna see gay people who have everything-but-the-bagel of mental illnesses then, yeah, sure. But when someone goes "Hey there is like,,, a ton of casual pedophilia and CSA in these stories that is framed as cute n' casual and/or deeply romantic, I wonder what that's all about" and then people crawl out the woodwork trying to convince you its not weird or that you're weird or weak for think its kinda fucked up- then at that point, I think maybe there is actually a different issue occurring here, you know?

Anyway, I think where I'm going with this is- TVC is a cultural phenomenon and has a tangible impact on Vampire and Gothic Horror canon and that's good and fun. But if we can recognize something like H.P Lovecraft's racism/classism/general fear of change having a profound effect on his writing and the spark of the entire Cosmic Horror Genre, then I think we can interrogate how AR as a Rich White Woman who grew up in mid-21st century New Orleans has an effect on the kind of stories she writes and how she does it.

#interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #char.txt #answered #truly thank you tho! i love hearing from people and having conversations on here #don't let my generally hostile tone fool you: I actually love talking about race and bigotry in media #what im actually angry about is people acting like it doesnt exist or isnt worth talking about which is LAAAAME #its a purity culture thing and also perserving white comfort and upholding ideas that poc are delusional and sensitive thing but i digress

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kodaloveschris · 2 months

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Unscripted Joy: A Day of Filming with Chris Sturniolo

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Sturniolo brothers' cozy living room, painting patterns of warmth on the familiar furnishings. Today was a special day—they were filming a fun challenge video together, and Chris couldn't contain his excitement. But amidst the flurry of activity, he had forgotten something crucial: his ADHD medication.

As they set up the cameras and adjusted the lighting, Chris's energy was infectious. He bounced around, ideas flowing faster than he could voice them, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. Matt and Nick exchanged amused glances, fondly accustomed to Chris's animated nature.

"Alright, Chris, let's start with the intro," Matt said with a smile, trying to channel Chris's boundless energy into a structured start.

Chris nodded eagerly, his words spilling out in a rapid stream as he outlined the concept with animated gestures. He moved from one idea to the next, his excitement palpable and contagious.

Halfway through filming, Matt noticed a change in Chris's demeanor—a slight restlessness and an inability to stay focused on one task. He exchanged a knowing look with Nick, who nodded in understanding.

"Hey, Chris," Matt interjected gently, stepping closer to his younger brother. "Are you feeling okay? You seem... a little scattered."

Chris paused mid-sentence, blinking as if brought back to reality. He glanced around, suddenly noticing the scattered props and half-finished setups. "I... I think so," he replied uncertainly, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Nick, always perceptive, approached with a comforting smile. "Did you forget to take your meds today, Chris?" he asked softly, his tone gentle and understanding.

Realization dawned on Chris's face as he considered Nick's question. His shoulders slumped slightly, a mix of disappointment and guilt washing over him. "I think I did," he admitted reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret.

Matt placed a reassuring hand on Chris's shoulder, his expression warm and reassuring. "It's okay, Chris," he reassured him gently. "Let's take a breather and regroup."

They took a break from filming, gathering in their cozy living room. Chris sat down, taking deep breaths to calm his racing thoughts. Matt and Nick surrounded him with words of encouragement and support, their presence a soothing balm to his unsettled mind.

"Thanks, guys," Chris said gratefully, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I really appreciate you both."

After a short interlude, they resumed filming with a more relaxed and structured approach. Matt and Nick gently guided Chris through the rest of the shoot, helping him stay focused and organized. They took frequent breaks to keep Chris grounded and refreshed, turning what could have been a chaotic session into a joyful and productive day of filming.

As they wrapped up the video, Chris felt a deep sense of gratitude for his brothers' unwavering support. Despite the challenges of managing his ADHD, he knew he could always rely on Matt and Nick to be there for him, making every moment together a special and cherished memory.

#the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfiction #sturniolo triplets imagines #matthew sturniolo

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shadale-s-safe-space · 11 months

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I don't know much about you as a person, but from what I can gather you've had a long journey with art, but still have the motivation to continue even when its rough. I'm sure you didn't start out making masterpieces, so if its not too much trouble, do you have any advice for a 16 year old artist losing motivation? i feel like im stagnating right now and its awful

Idk man, all I can say is, draw watchu want without the care who's gonna see it or what they gonna say , commit to new ideas and care less about pleasing everyone, because I know that way too well, I started learning by drawing animals, flowers and nature, "you should draw something else", switches to furries " No you must do human portraits", draws humans *no one fuckin cares*, and I felt miserable drawing what I didn't want all the damn time just trying to please everyone and be liked, hell, I still do that sometimes cuz I'm a dumbass. When in reality, when you do your own thing is when you're the happiest, this internet bullshit? Yeah don't trust the likes and favs, people like what they find relatable, no one really knows how much time you've spent on your drawing or how much you love it, when a 5 min doodle you did could do more than a painting that took 2 whole days to complete just to be scrapped in a new speedy record, paint what you love for yourself and you only.

Don't be shy to learn new things, I have tons of stuff I don't post here cuz I know people wouldn't care about it, but here for this post, have this that I practiced when I felt too depressed to think of anything good and wanted to step back from the MD artstyle

You'll see, you'll thrive when you draw what you want, and get yourself a drawing buddy! That way you'll stop focusing on the internet and more on each other, and each other's improvement. Tbh I struggled with that one. Since everyone I had were not into art irl, I somehow managed to find someone after 10 years of drawing alone. I honestly wanted more people to join in and make an improvement circle, but unfortunately that never happened.

I found myself twice as productive now than ever, even though I'm not active here as much I am still drawing and making things, ofc giving you more comics! And other fun things in the future I hope.

If you're struggling to draw something just do it, man commit, i was uncomfortable drawing men and male characters for years, I've wasted so many years being "too uncomfortable" and draw a naked person like yeesh who fucking cares, it's for studying.

And ofc if you feel like you're not improving at all please, please experiment with your artstyle and try something new, please refresh your mind, I was stuck for years doing the same thing over and over, same colors, same 2px brush, drawing like a machine same shit over and over, I felt so stuck and lost, but also afraid to do something new, idk why, I guess I never felt good enough or deserving of it. I also didn't go to art school, I am NOT a professional, nor will i ever be in my opinion. Hell, me feeling like I'll never be good enough left me afraid to try and apply for art school, they were asking for sculptures, different mediums all that scary stuff and I was like, I don't.. know.. how to do those things... I can't build a portfolio in less than 3 months?!?! I don't even know how to use half of what they're asking for!!

In reality at the end of the day, art is what you make of it and no one can stop you, search for inspirations and don't be afraid to try, yes you'll fail fist 2 or 10 or hell even 100 times, but you'll come back with more knowledge than ever.

For ending I give you the most confusing drawing to ever exist [dw he's just sleeping on top of her and she's just ghasping for air but awe romance or sum lol] is it weird? Yeah but I had a fun time making it hahaha

Idk I'm bad at putting my thoughts together, but hopefully some of this helps.

#murder drones #murder drones oc #artists on tumblr #digital painting

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qtboni · 1 year

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[from my heart to yours! ✩ // bachira meguru]

PAIRING: bf!bachira (blue lock) x afab!reader

SUMMARY: your boyfriend might need a creative outlet outside of soccer, so doing a craft night together can be a fun way to spend time together.

TYPE/GENRE: heart to heart! ya’ll are painter luvers, def sfw, fluff with comfort (?), humor cz it’s crack, and bachira being a softie YIPEE!

CW/TW: explicit words (sh!t) and like having paint in your skin.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

A/N: wanted to cope w/ my exams last week so i made this HAHAHA enjoy aaaaaa i luv this bby sm ><

"have you ever noticed how football looks like a giant game of keep-away?"

bachira asked as he continued on mixing the two pigments on his palette. you paused on your sketching from your canvass to look at him. you couldn't help but snicker at his response.

"i mean, it's just a bunch of grown men chasing a ball around, trying to hog it as much as possible. it's like a bunch of toddlers fighting over a toy."

you snorted as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. "how ironic, meguru." you sarcastically stated and continued on with your work, diverting your attention to the half-made composition you drew. "don't you want to read between those lines?"

you and bachira decided to have a craft night together, and bachira got really excited when you suggested painting instead of crocheting. after all, he had a reputation for being a man of action, and crocheting just seemed too 'delicate' for him. plus, the idea of being able to create something with his own hands really appealed to him. however, when he realized how much patience and focus it took to paint, he quickly regretted his decision and muttered something about how he should have stuck with crocheting.

but despite his initial frustrations, bachira actually started to enjoy painting once he got into the flow of it. he found that the creativity and self-expression he could experience through painting was a refreshing change from the rigidity and discipline of soccer training. he even started to experiment with different techniques and art styles, and you could see the excitement and fascination on his face as he worked.

bachira shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "i guess i let my inner cynic take over at times," he said, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "but honestly, sometimes it feels like that's all soccer is - just a bunch of dudes chasing after a ball and trying to score,"

you watch him dip his brush into the mixture of colors and then apply it to the canvas in a rapid series of strokes, creating an intricate pattern. "it's easy to forget that there's more to it than just that, and that the game can be so rewarding on so many different levels."

you smiled at his response, appreciating his willingness to share his thoughts and emotions. "i completely agree," you said, brushing paint onto the canvas. "sure, the thrill of scoring a goal is amazing, but there's so much more to the game than that. it's about teamwork, strategy, and determination. all things that can be applied to so many other aspects of life. it's what makes soccer such a universal and powerful sport, in my opinion."

you reach over to his side for a different brush from his toolkit to add a new texture or technique to his painting. you feel bachira's head nodding in agreement from your shoulder.

"exactly," he said as he looked over at your shoulder to gaze at your pretty face. "it's so much more than just a game - it's a way of life. and it's something that connects people from all over the world, regardless of race, religion, or language. it's a language that everyone can understand. a-and that's what makes it so special, in my opinion."

as the two of you sat together, surrounded by brushes, paints, and canvases, you couldn't help but notice the way bachira's eyes lit up with excitement whenever he talked about soccer or art. he took his time explaining the nuances of different strategies, and you found yourself getting lost in his passion for the game. you could tell that he was someone who loved diving deep into the details and figuring out the best way to approach a situation.

and it wasn't just his soccer stories that captivated you - bachira was an incredible artist too. you were really impressed. 'not bad for a first timer, huh?' you thought as you watched him humming a tune while painting. there was something truly captivating about watching him mix colors and apply them to a canvas, and you found yourself genuinely impressed by the beauty and depth of his creations. You could tell that he had a unique and powerful vision, and you felt honored to be a part of it.

clearing his throat, bachira decided to switch gears, "the way that painting helped me express my emotions and release stress," as he spoke, his voice became softer and his eyes more soulful, and you found yourself drawn in by his passion and eloquence. "and how every brushstroke was like a part of myself being transferred onto the canvas to be shared with the world."

as the two of you sat there, surrounded by the mess of paints, brushes, and canvases, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility and calm wash over you. bachira's words, filled with passion and emotion, echoed in your ears, making you feel as though you were the only two people in the world.

it was as if time had stopped in that moment, frozen in place, allowing you to fully savor the depth of feelings between you. the silence was broken only by the occasional brushstroke, the sound of pigment on canvas almost mesmerizing in its own right.

you found yourself being drawn in by bachira once again - his cute and focused expression on his face, and the little pout on his lips. and his eyes, his eyes are as though they were a window to his soul. the tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the electricity between you.

it was during this moment of connection that Bachira suddenly turned to you and spoke from the heart. "i love you," he said simply, but with a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat. the words hitting you like a bolt of lightning. it was like a shockwave that traveled through your entire being, leaving you speechless and overwhelmed with emotion.

it was as though all the pieces of your life had finally fallen into place, and you knew, in that moment, that you had found something truly special with bachira. the love between you was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel like you were the luckiest person in the world to have found someone who understood and appreciated you on such a deep level. the moment felt all too precious, and you were desperate to hold on to it forever.

feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who had become such an important part of your life, you whispered, "i love you too, meguru."

you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

and that's exactly what happened next. bachira pulled you into an embrace, his arms strong and comforting around you. you breathed in the scent of his hair and the warmth of his body, and felt a sense of contentment wash over you. for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world could possibly matter, except for the two of you in each other's arms.

but then, suddenly, you felt the sensation of a brushstroke on your cheek. bachira chuckled and pulled away from you, holding the brush in his hand. "i couldn't resist," he said with a boyish grin. "i thought a little bit of art on my sweet baby could add to the moment."

"wh-"

you watch as he dipped the brush into a jar of red paint and drew half of a heart on your cheek, using soft and careful strokes that made you feel as though your skin were being caressed. "what do you mean?"

then, he turned to his own cheek and you see him drawing the other half of the heart, before turning back to you.

"a little art that," he pressed his right cheek to your left so that the two halves of the heart joined together to form a full symbol of love and connection. "connects the both of us together."

you feel like you were going to cry then and there. the moment was so perfect, so full of both sweetness and passion, that you knew that it would be a memory that would stay with you forever. "because the heart that you gave to me is so special to me."

"meguru…"

he hears your faint whisper and looks at you.

"thank you,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both affection and reverence. “it’s so beautiful and meaningful…”

at the sound of your voice, bachira's eyes soften, and he leans closer to you, his breath warm on your cheek. you can feel the beat of his heart as it races against your own, and you know that you are both caught up in the same moment. it's as though the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of sweet, shared emotions.

as bachira's lips brush against your ear, his voice is little more than a whisper. "y/n, you are like nothing else in this world, and the love that i feel for you is something that i will never take for granted.”

the words seem to hang in the air between you, like a precious jewel that you both want to hold onto forever. for a moment, it feels as though time has stopped, and the two of you are lost in each other's gaze. the world around you seems to have dissolved, leaving only the two of you and the love that you share.

bachira kissed your forehead ever so softly.

it's a moment that you know you'll never forget, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that feels like it could go on forever. in that moment, you feel like you are both the luckiest people in the world, surrounded by love and understanding that will see you through whatever life may throw your way. and you know that this will be a memory that will stay with you forever, a reminder of the magic that can exist in the world when two people find each other and allow themselves to fall completely, hopelessly in love.

for a moment, the two of you were lost in silence, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's presence. it was a quiet moment, yet it was full of a palpable sense of connection and appreciation. you felt like you had found something truly special in bachira, something that went beyond words. and you knew that it would be a friendship that would last a lifetime.

**BONUS!**

it was a quiet night in bachira's room, the air thick with the scent of paint and the soft sound of bachira's music wafting through the air. you and bachira were both painting, the two of you lost in the world of art and creativity that you shared.

as you worked on your canvas, you looked over at bachira's artwork and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his skill and talent. "that actually is pretty art, bachira," you said quietly, your voice tinged with awe.

bachira looked up at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "well ofc it would be," he said, his tone teasing. "why, what did you think before?"

you felt a small flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a laugh. "i thought it was gonna be shit," you replied, your tone equally as teasing.

"y/n!" bachira whined, the sound making you laugh even harder.

the two of you continued to laugh, your voices filling the room with a sense of warmth and joy. it was moments like this that reminded you of just how special your relationship with bachira was, the way that you could be completely and utterly yourself around him and still be loved and appreciated for it.

it was then that bachira spoke, his voice soft and almost hesitant. "y/n," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "this actually connects us, yeah?"

your breath caught in your throat at the simple beauty of his words, and you couldn't help but feel a lump form in your throat. "of course it does," you said softly, your voice almost shaking with emotion. "it's a piece of art that represents the love that we have for each other, and that's something that will always connect us."

bachira smiled, his eyes full of a tender warmth that filled you with a sense of peace and love. it was in that moment that you knew that this was a moment that you would always remember, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.

@tsunag1, 2023 — i ws on a hiatus sorry guys! mm but now i’m back on the role 💪😼‼️woot pls like and reblog my works if you like it! it's helpful and is vv much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#tsunag1! ♡#bllk bachira #bachira fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #baby bachira #bachira meguru #bachira x you #bachira headcanons #bachira x reader #bachira imagines #bachira smut #blue lock #blue lock fluff

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