#YOUR ART HELP MOTIVATE ME WHEN I WAS GIVING ON THE FIC

[minkiverse]

CHOI SAN FIC RECS

You can find other Ateez fic recs HERE!

Here it is the behemoth 😭😭 i knew this one was going to take some time but it had multiple delays due to irl stuf but IT IS HERE NOW!!!! except i could not fit it all in one post so a part 2 will come out eventually (after poly!ateez pt 2 most likely) n e ways Shout out this man who harassed my tiktok feed until i became double biased i lov him sosososososooooo much🥹🥹

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

ceilings pt 2 pt 3 - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥⛈️💗 Single Mom AU ✧ PE Teacher!San

i dont want to spoil anything but there is a good chance you can figure out this trope, which i know is not for everyone BUT I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERYTIME!!!! this is just the cutest fluffiest lil series i ever read like I LOVE THEM!!!!

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder pt 2 - @ennysbookstore ✨🔥⛈️💗 Office AU

i am still so mad at how long it took me to get around to reading this because man. I LOVE THIS FIC!!!!! i literally was telling my irls about it because the plot twist at the end of pt1 got me so fucking good 😭😭 i am truly in love with this san like i have no other words than please read this two shot it is incredible (also read every other work by this author pls)

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

what lies beneath us - @hongism 🔥⛈️💗 College AU

destiny - @tainsan ⛈️💗Time Travel AU ✧ Idol AU

Drowsy - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Am I your favorite? - @deja-yu 💗

Unholy Night - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Priest AU

Untitled - @yourfatherlucifer 🔥

Eggnog Confession - @stayteezdreams 💗

Mr. Jealousy - @sanhwaism 💗🍑

Convince Me - @littleocean-rose 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Sunrise - @sorryimananti-romantic 🔥💗⛈️ Soldier AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

incubus: coming of age - @byuntrash101 🔥Incubus!San

in the quiet spaces - @honeyhotteoks 🔥💗

Stay Focused - @beginningofwonderland ✨🔥 Office AU ✧ Tutor AU

god the tension between these two 😩😩😩 their banter is so flirty like even when san is helping the mc out with uni stuff its just sooooooooooooo 🤌🤌🤌🤌 it gives off a bit of romcom vibes WHICH I LOVE!~

Dry Humping with San - @littleocean-rose 🔥

chocolate - @mingigoo 🔥 Brother's Best Friend AU

obsession - @cheollipop 🔥 Mafia AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

[7:30 am] - @destiny-fics 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Tired - @thr34t2sanity 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

pool side - @beatteez 🔥

Depths of the Ocean - @joong-of-gold 💗 Office AU ✧ Single Dad!San

Untitled - @jeon-ify 🔥

superstar - @bro-atz 🔥

A Little Secret - @choism 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @orgverse 🔥

choi san boyfriend texts - @koizekomi 🍑

Wander though my body - @armpirate 🔥

misunderstandings w/ san - @beenbaanbuun ⛈️💗

Interlude | Opening Sequence - @luvt0kki 🔥⛈️ Sci-Fi AU

Untitled - @eightmakesonebraincell 💗 Friends to Lovers AU

prelude in e minor - @bro-atz 🔥⛈️ Professor AU ✧ Infidelity

motive - @yunhoszn 🔥 Gym Partner AU

u got it bad - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥💗 Baseball AU

I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!!!!! how this author writes banter is just so real and funny and you just can't help but be charmed by san and mc!!! as a former sports anime fan, i love a sports au ok it will hit EVERYTIME!! and this is one the bests truly!

Love Death + Robots - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️ Cyberpunk AU ✧ Stripper!San

kiss me more - @miirohs 💗

Tall Trees - @sluttywoozi 🔥.⛈️💗 Personal Trainer AU

take a picture - @jeon-ify 🔥

y'know what they say about guitarists - @lomlhwa 🔥 Band AU

stretch marks w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

[8:50pm] - @moamidzyism 🔥Neighbors AU

imagine being in a secret relationship - @byeolbeloved 🔥💗Badyboy!San

cockwarming w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 🔥💗

Boyfriend San - @cheeseceli 💗

roadtrip - @lomlhwa 🔥

leave the window open - @sungbeam 💗 Neighbor AU

crimson - @hwaslayer ✨🔥⛈️ Nightclub AU ✧ Stripper!MC

how these two just fall in love is so beautifully written 😭😭 its such an interesting dynamic but san so forthcoming with his feelings i could melt 🫠🫠 AND THE SMUT IS FUCKING INSANE 😩😩

backstage backshots with san - @kitten4sannie 🔥

the scentist - @k-hotchoisan 🔥Neighbor AU ✧ Scentist!San

steamed milk - @yunhoszn 🔥💗 Barista AU

Last Christmas - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️💗 Exes to Lovers AU

It's You - @minisugakoobies 💗 Roommate AU ✧ Best Friend's Brother AU

Stern, but sweet - @bvidzsoo 💗 Teacher AU

Trip Shenanigans - @hee0soo 💗 Dad!San

pretty kitty - @k-hotchoisan 🔥 Hybrid AU

periods w/ choi san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

untitled - @brainddeadd 🔥

Day 8 - @multifandomfantasies ✨🔥

as a large sub!ateez enthusiast this should not be shocking 🫠🫠 i just love a needy desperate san so much and this fic 😩😩 boy does it deliver

gold rush - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Cowboy AU

to taint you soul - @seonghwaddict ✨🔥⛈️ Incubus!San

when i went into reading this i just thought it would be pure demon smut, but like i fell in love with the mc and san so easily 😭😭 like the plot is devastating and how san like just takes care of the mc is soooo 🥺🥺🥺🥺 THE SMUT IS ALSOSDFJSFJOGSJRSGJGJ yeah its good highly recommend 👍👍

untitled - @teeskzagain 🔥

tied up - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

celebrate for you - @cheollipop 🔥💗

untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

too sweet - @yoongiseesawmp3 💗 Model AU

Give in to Me - @hwallazia 🔥

Filthy Lips, Loving Touch - @ja3hwa 🔥💗

Ateez San as your BF - @kisshwa 🍑

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

realistic sex with san - @byuntrash101 🔥💗

Underwater - @bvidzsoo 🔥⛈️💗 Greek Mythology AU ✧ Ares!San

kitten fever - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Hybrid AU

head to head - @bro-atz 🔥

middle of the night - @kitten4sannie 🔥

untitled - @choism 🔥

rollin' - @bro-atz 🔥

handy - @hausofwoo 🔥💗

san x chubby!reader - @sluttywoozi 💗

Treat You Better - @starskq 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU

untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Stripper!San

knots - @bro-atz ✨🔥💗 Masseuse AU

i didnt think i had a thing for this au but i love it everytime! when mc just gets a really good fucking massage and then a real good fucking too aaadfsgsgfgdf but this is honestly so intimate and warm feeling and just san man 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[coraltinyrose]

FANFIC DATA [15 Minutes to Save Him]

Most of the images I made for the story. Keep scrolling for close-ups and some new sketches.

FANFICTION DATA (4-june-2025) 🕙Title: 15 Minutes to Save Him 🕙Genre: Romance (F/M) 🕙Style: Canon rewrite 🕙Main pairing: Ranma x Akane 🕙Length: +20K words 🕙Ranking: Teen and up 🕙Where to read: ·AO3 - Fanfic with embedded fanart [Read here] ·Tumblr - I will share one fan art or so + a text excerpt for every chapter released. So it works as notifications. ·(Maybe FF.net - Fanfic with text only [account]) Summary: Ranma makes life plans right after the battle in China, but his daydreams crumble when darkness swallows him. Meanwhile, Akane witnesses his decline and is undeterred by his new, closed-off behavior. She'll uncover the root of his change and help him, even if it takes a counterintuitive approach! But will their secret 15-minute deal work? And can she keep taming her hopes of reciprocated love? ------ Progress update (4-June-2025) The fanfic started its release on AO3! See the cover and get further updates in this new tumblr post. Progress update (29-May-2025) New art at end of post. Fanfic edits/beta ongoing. Progress update (18-May-2025) Beta checks are ongoing, which made me start rereading the manga (focusing on specific parts) to improve a particular character's arc. I'm happy I can follow it in Japanese decently well! Level up~ New art added to this post.

Progress update (13-May-2025) -Cover art and some other sketches done -Publishing system decided -Beta reading pending

Progress update (8-May-2025) Drawing art while waiting for beta reading. Cover WIP added at the end of this post~

Progress update (2-May-2025)

The first chapters are as polished as my current skills allow, and they’ve already had some beta reading—kyaa~ (TYSM! @luna12-ranma-akane-otp ). The rest of the fic is also pretty far along, totaling 18k words.

Again, don’t expect regular updates from me, but know that things are happening behind the scenes.

Progress update (27-Apr-2025) The project is progressing nicely, but that means fewer posts as I keep editing the fanfic (not drawing art). Don't worry if you see me post less in the next days/weeks. I added a new sketch at the end of this post's close-ups!

Progress update (24-Apr-2025)

My amazing pro writer friend read the first draft and gave me super useful and sweet feedback. I'm so motivated to improve the story and release it ♡ RELEASE TIMELINE

I have a lot to rewrite and, as this is a for-fun project, there's no set date. But I can say this: I'm the type of creator who finishes projects to keep things consistent, start to end, and then releases them into parts. That lets people savor each installment and perhaps speculate with others on what will happen next.

Yes, I'm evil, not giving it all at once. But at least early readers have security that there is a (hopefully) satisfying ending coming ^^ Then, even if I could start publishing the fanfic once the texts are fully finished, I also want time to do art accompanying the story (like this post's images). So I'm considering whether I...

A) wait to release until I have all texts + images = regular release schedule but longer wait B) just release when I have the text and do images on the go = irregular releases, but we start earlier Probably I'll go with a mix of both, having a buffer of images before the start. Which, in a way, I already have.

What is your preference as a writer or reader?

Publish all at once, "chaos" irregular but release as soon as you have it, monthly, weekly, daily,...

----- *Characters by Takahashi Rumiko

[whore-ibly-hot]

'Photo Shoot'

Yan!Photography Student x GN!reader x Yan!Art instructor (Joseph and Mr. Burton)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: All characters are legal age, multiple yanderes, dub-con touching, perverted thoughts, voyeurism, student/teacher dynamics, nude photography, no real mention of specific genitals

AN: I'm so eepy right now... Also, if you like this fic, use the tags on my masterlist to find all the other Yan!Boarding School writings.

The smoke coming from the corner of the room ceases when Mr. Burton snuffs a cigarette butt out on an... ashtray? From where you're sat, you can see him putting it out on what looks more like a student pottery bowl. That strikes you as odd, but he can be very critical of others art so you can't be suprised. Cracking his knuckles and leaning back a little, he turns to you and the extremely quiet classmate beside you, Joseph.

"Alright, lets get this show on the road, yeah? Joseph, you're our camera man, I'll have you leading this thing, running the camera's and I'll give some creative direction. Student and the master, I can finally teach some actual fucking art." Mr. Burton mumbles, as Joseph quickly begins setting up the camera on a tri-pod. You feel odd about him to say the least, despite you being the 'muse', as Mr. Burrton calls you, Joseph's barely made eye contact with you. You agreed right off the bat when Mr. Burton asked you to help one of his favorite students with some anatomy shoots, you like Mr. Burton, he's funny, honest, and that's refreshing, given you worry some people at this academy have ulterior motives. Still, you had some concerns as you fiddle with the thin top you wore at Mr. Burton's request. "Mr. Burton?" you ask, and he looks up from where he's mumbling about something with Joseph. He motions for the young man to keep working as he strolls over.

"I'm nervous." You admit, hand rubbing at your elbow as an attempt to self-soothe. "I don't usually get, nude, on camera, and i-it's not that I don't trust you, sir, but-" He puts his hand up to cut you off, gently rubbing your shoulder. "Woah, woah. I get it, I get it." He assures you, tone comforting. "You're my student, and you've got great, great potential. I've been on the art scene, kid, I see the burnout path some people go down, I see the ways people exploit and get exploited. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. If you get uncomfortable, I'll pull you out. And trust me, being in the nude for art starts to feel perfectly normal after a while, okay?" He pauses, then sighs. "Okay, it's comfortable except for being cold as hell." He laughs.

You chuckle in return, but there's still a bit of worry. He can tell, and leans in. "What is it that worries you, exactly? If it's insecurity, trust me, the real artists are those marketing execs who can photoshop a skinny model and make change up the whole idea of beau-"

"It's not that sir, I promise. I'm just worried about other people seeing, you know? I'm worried about it getting spread around, or people getting bad ideas about me." You admit, face a little pale. Mr. Burton's brows furrow, and he slaps his hand down on his jeans. "Joseph, come here!" He yells.

Joseph jumps, hands shaking as he almost knocks over his tripod. "But- uh, the cameras-" He squeaks out, and Mr. Burton shakes his head. "You're one of the best photographers I've ever met, Joseph, I know damn well that cameras been set up for well over ten minutes already. Come here, don't be shy, don't be weird. You're freaking out the subject." At the idea him staying away is freaking you out just as much as him coming up to you, Joseph walks over. "H-hi." he greets, holding out his hand. You shake it, and it is particularly sweaty.

"Joseph is a great photographer, my best student and possibly one of the best I've ever seen. I assure you, he's a good kid. He's dedicated to his craft, this isn't a complex scheme for him to fence some nudes of you to the highest bidder." The young man's eyes widen exponentially as Mr. Burton makes his assertion, and instinctually puts his hands up in surrender. "No, no! I would never, ever. Do I- do I come off as that kind of creep, if I do I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that at all, I just struggle with, well, some issues like that." Joseph visibly frowns, and Mr. Burtons hand tenses from it's spot on the table.

"You are pretty creepy, Joseph." Mr. Burton admits, making the boy flush as the teacher playfully pushes his head. "This'll be good, good art pushes outside of comfort zones, yeah? Let's get all set up." He claps his hands together as he goes to stand behinf the camera with Joseph. You strip, and sit awkwardly before the camera in front of a messy brick wall with various stains and prints on it from Mr. Burton's studio. Mr. Burtons licks his lips subconsciously as he looks over your meek form, the clears his throat. "Okay, first position, mermaid pose. Lets get those legs to the side."

The shoot continues on for a while, until Mr. Burton suggests a more 'raw' shoot. That's how you find yourself posing, hands over your chest area and thighs ever so slightly parted while Mr. Burton sits behind you, also nude. You worried about it being inappropriate, mostly for his sake. "Couldn't this... I mean, I'm willing to do it if you think it'll be good art, but won't you get in trouble if people find out?" You ask, turning over your shoulder a bit. He scoffs again, and shakes his head. "No self-respecting person with credentials like mine would teach these silver spoon brats art, I'm all they've got." He assures you, going to move an arm around your waist from behind.

"What composition do you want, sir?" Joseph asks, face red as he uses every ounce of will-power to try and suppress an erection at the sight of you and the older man. He'll worry about the new and conflicting feelings later. He's got enough photos to die happy, but the fact you seem so willing fills him with a delusional sense of your interest in him.

"It's your shoot, Joseph. Take over directing." Mr. Burton calls back, and Joseph doesn't seem sure. "I don't know, sir, you have more of a vision than me, and-" Mr. Burton groans, rolling his head back like a kid throwing a tantrum. "Jesus christ, kid. How many times do I have to hammer in that you're a good artist? You can direct your own shoots-" He notices the violently red flush of Josephs cheeks, and chuckles. "Or is this more an issue of being to embarrassed, because I told you-" He waves his free arm around. "We are pushing the envelope, making something raw, pushing ourselves out of comfort zones. To be a great artist, you have to not be afraid to tell your NUDE SUBJECT, to spread their legs and bare it all." Joseph is completely silent, stun-locked by his gruff teachers comments. He begins examining the shot in the view-finder after taking a few shaky breathes.

"Alright, Sir... of course." He swallows, and his shaky hands adjust the lens. "I want to-to try and delineate from what other people think nude shoots are, away from like... porn and stuff. Raw, but intimate, I think." Mr. Burton nods for him to continue, and seeing the interest in your eyes at his creative direction, Joseph gets a little more confident. "If you're okay with it-" He addresses you now. "I'd like Mr. Burton to be able to touch you, nothing too invasive, just a kiss on the neck or the shoulder, maybe letting him hold your thigh?" Joseph keeps his tone soft and asking, sure to imply you can say no.

"That's alright, I trust him." You mumble, looking at the gruff art instructor and seeing to your surprise a soft look on his face. "I'm honored, little muse." He teases, and the nickname makes you flush. "Oh, and you too, Joseph, we've not talked much, um, but you seem really dedicated, I'm sure I'm in good hands."

Shit. Well, so much for keeping his dick down, but at least he doesn't think you can see from the way the lighting is set up. He nods, and you shiver, feeling a cold pair of lips and a thin stubble scratch at the surface of your shoulder. "Are they cold?" Mr. Burton chuckles, placing a few more small kisses as you hear the camera shutter snap. "I'm sorry, I can't control the thermostat in here, all this money and they can't afford to make sure I don't freeze my dick off doing my job." He's always so grumpy, even when he's trying to be sweet. You close your eyes and try to relax into the feeling. It escalates occasionally, hands on your thighs as he kneads gently at your flesh, occasionally making a complaint about something or picking at Joseph, who keeps making an odd series of grunts, but you assume he's just breathing heavy from being so focused.

It culminates in you being positioned over him, as if playing the playful or dominate role in some sort of erotic moment. Mr. Burtons hands rest on your ass, his firm yet not fully erect cock a little too close to your hole. You're chest to chest with him, and while he's relishing in the feeling, Joseph makes a hand motion, and he knows its time to pull away, at least for this ession. He's smart, knows not to rush it, and he knows this is more than enough material for the vouyeristic camerman.

"I think we got some good shots, i-it's getting late. I'll go grab something from the vending machine while you too warm up." Joseph scarmbles away, camera bag held oddly across his crotch area. Mr. Burton smiles as you slide off from him, flushed as the weight of your previous position hits you. "You were great, a real professional." He urges, scooting forward to sit beside you.

"Thank you, sir. I was trying not to get too flushed or anything, I hope I didn't sweat too much." You admit, and he shakes his head to assure you. "Nah, you did fine, but if I could make a suggestion?" You look up. "No real intimate scene like that doesn't have a couple kissing. On your neck and shoulders was fine, but lets face it, people do more than neck each other when they're getting it on like that." He glances at the door, making sure Joseph is still doing whatever it is he's doing out there. He didn't discuss this part with the young artist, but let's face it, learning to be one step ahead, to protect your work and your muse, is something he's gonna have to learn anyways. "Will you let me show you?" he asks, voice low as he leans closer to your face.

You glance at the camera. "It's not running, though shouldn't we wait for joseph to take the photo?" You ask, a little more unsure about the artistic integrity of the action. He shakes his head as he lets his stubble scratch your cheek. "This'll be practice, yeah? For next time..."

"Next time?"

"Next time." He mumbles, lips feverishly sealing against your as he hunces over your form, cold bodies pressing together and leaving goosebumps which trail down your form as the session closes out.

[moonchild9350]

Whispers of Beauty

summary: you find your way again after a horrible breakup with the help of poetry and Hyunjin.

pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers au (slow burn), angst, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 6.8k

warnings: time jumps, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum tasting, finger sucking

notes: reminiscing of hyunjin as always. this will also probably be it until i finish the series i'm working on lol. the poems used in this fic are Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal by Tennyson and She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron if you'd like to read them in full!

if you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost my work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It was another busy day at the cafe, people coming in to order their usuals as they made their way to work, school, or elsewhere. You lose yourself in the art of making their drinks, the familiar task giving you a sense of comfort.

You definitely needed comfort after a recent breakup, the wounds so fresh, you could still feel your heart rip in two at just the thought. You were in need of some healing and your friend, Ember, knew just the activity that will help.

Every Friday, the cafe you worked at hosted poetry night where others can spend their evenings sharing their original works or reciting works of some of poetry’s greatest authors.

You loved poetry, loved getting lost in the words of those who walked this earth centuries before you. The works always incited emotion, your eyes welling up in tears, or scowling in anger at the passion of the writers.

You also loved listening to others, as they poured their heart out through words, weaving their stories through happy narratives or euphemisms.

While you were dating your ex, your passion for poetry dimmed, finding no comfort from the words on the page as your love for the stories was berated and considered worthless.

You sat aside your poems in exchange for the thought of love, burying the feeling of hopelessness deep within your heart.

Now that you were free, you started engaging in poetry reading again, getting lost in the words once more, your smile returning as you found some comfort from them. Ember suggested you start going to poetry nights, so you could get out of the house, meet new people, and of course engage in your ultimate love.

At first, you weren’t keen on the idea, having not gone to an event like this in years, but overtime you changed your mind, deciding it was exactly what you needed.

So you busied yourself in your work, counting down the hours until the end of your shift and when you could take a seat and enjoy the entertainment of the night.

Time passed, people came, drinks were made. Before you knew it, you were clocking out, taking off your apron and setting it on your hook. You fixed your outfit in the bathroom, then went in search of your friend, hoping she had already arrived.

You smiled as you spotted Ember, sitting on a couch in the corner. You walked over to her, embracing in a hug before sitting down with a sigh, happy with the relief of getting off your aching legs.

“I’m so excited you agreed to do this!” Ember exclaimed, pulling you close so she could hug you.

“Same, it’s been too long,” you replied, wrapping your arms around your friend.

She playfully ruffled your hair, laughing as you protested. “Seems like it’ll be a good turn out.”

You scanned the room, noticing that the tables and couches were filling in, friends, couples, and singles alike settling in for a good night.

“Yeah, the turn-out is usually good,” you replied.

You listened to the chatter, your mind wandering elsewhere in the cozy atmosphere. You’re not sure how much time passed as you stared into space, your mind running nonstop.

“Y/n! It’s about to start!” Ember said as she elbowed you in the side.

You shook your head to come back to the present. The lights were dim, a small spotlight shining on a spot in the center of the room. You assumed this would be where those who wanted to share their thoughts would sit, as there was a small wooden stool present, along with a microphone.

The crowd quieted, their attention focused on your boss who walked to the mic. She tapped on the head before clearing her throat.

“Welcome to poetry night! Tonight we will listen to some talented people recite some of literature’s greatest works. So sit back and let the words flow through your soul.”

You clapped as she left the makeshift stage, the first performer taking their place. You listened to poem after poem, your mind opening up and your heart beating at the promise of the words that were flowing through the small space.

Before you knew it, the night was almost over, the event coming to a close. You clapped as the last performer took to the stage, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

He was dressed in a black sweater and jeans, the fit loose on his slim body. His brown hair framed his face perfectly, the strands hanging down to his neck. His eyes were a beautiful shade of chocolate brown and seemed to shine with the spotlight that shone from above. His lips were large and plush and a pretty shade of pink that had you blushing.

He sat on the stool and pulled the mic closer and adjusted it. He cleared his throat as he looked out into the audience, his eyes roaming those gathered as if he was summoning their attention.

The extra step was moot however as everyone’s eyes were trained on him, awaiting the beautiful words that would fall from his lips.

You watched with bated breath as he opened his mouth and began to speak:

“Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.”

As the man spoke, you felt like you were transported to another time, as a princess professes her love for the prince. The words that he spoke were smooth like velvet, yet full of emotion.

His eyes gazed upon the crowd, his eyes catching person after person as he recited the poem, making sure to captivate the audience. Eventually, his eyes made it to you and remained there as he continued to speak.

You couldn’t help but watch his lips as they opened and closed, as he continued his prose. You could feel your face heat up, as you dragged your eyes to his, holding his strong gaze.

He finished in a beat, the crowd erupting in cheers as he stood up and bowed slightly, before returning to his seat. He wasn’t sitting far from you as he was only a few tables away, his back turned toward you.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but stare at the man, your mind still reeling after that performance. You wondered who he was as you haven’t seen him around the cafe. Ember tapped you on the thigh, causing you to turn and look at her.

You rolled your eyes as she wriggled her eyebrows at noticing how you were staring at the mystery man.

Once the lights came back up, people milled around chatting, discussing the choices of the night. You noticed a crowd of people surrounding the mystery man, mainly women gushing at how well he did.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Ember, who was speaking with some random person that was sitting next to you.

“Sure thing babe,” she replied, a sly smile forming on her face.

You walked over toward the man, determined to speak to him before the night ended. You definitely wanted to compliment him on his choice of work as Tennyson was one of your favorite authors.

You waited patiently as the flock of groupies gushed to him about irrelevant things, probably trying to see who could get his number first. You smirked at their desperation, watching as he tried to disentangle himself from a girl who was trying to hug him.

Chuckling, you decided to help him out.

“Eh mm,” you said, raising your eyebrow at the girls who turned around to see who had interrupted them.

“Others are waiting to speak with the gentleman, just wanted to let you know.”

The girls looked at you with disdain, their eyes narrowed as they hesitated to move. When you opened your mouth to say more, they scrambled away, muttering under their breaths about how they were rudely interrupted.

Shaking your head, you approached the beautiful man and smiled.

“Hi, great job tonight. Tennyson huh?” You said, watching as the man blushed and tucked his head down.

“Thank you, uh…yeah. He’s one of my favorites.”

“Really mine too! I’m y/n,” you responded, holding your hand out to shake his hand.

His eyes lit up at your words, excitement etched on his face. “Ah! Another fan, that makes my heart sing y/n. I’m Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin reached his hand to you, wrapping his fingers around yours and giving you a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but think how soft his hands were, albeit a little sweaty.

“I’d love to chat with you more about him…or poetry in general,” you said dropping your hand.

“Of course, of course, that would be excellent!” Hyunjin said as he nodded, his hair falling into his face at the movement.

“Great, I actually work here, so maybe we can meet-up after one of my shifts?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, fiddling with his sleeves.

You smiled at how nervous he was, thinking he was pretty cute. “I’ll see you around then,” you said with a wave of your hand.

You turned on your heels and walked away, making your way back to Ember. You couldn’t miss the sly grin she had plastered on her face.

“Well, well, well, someone’s been busy,” she teased, giving you a wink.

“No, no, I just wanted to speak with him and see if he wanted to talk more about Tennyson. Turns out that’s his favorite poet too.”

“Mmhmm, sure whatever you say babe. Did you get his name?” Ember asked.

“Hyunjin,” you said simply, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body as you said his name.

“Well, may great things be in store for you two,” Ember said, as she genuinely smiled at you.

-- --

Weeks passed with you filling your days with work. You picked up long shifts which left you exhausted by the end of the day, causing you to tread home and immediately fall into bed out of exhaustion.

You saw Ember sporadically over the weeks on your few off days, which was a nice change of pace.

You haven’t seen Hyunjin, as he hasn’t stopped by. You pretty much gave up on the idea of the man showing up, chalking it up to that he forgot or wasn’t interested….not that he owed you anything anyway.

Despite this, a part of you hoped he would have stopped by, wanting to discuss with him his love for literature. You were fascinated with him, remembering how velvety his voice sounded as he brought centuries old words to life.

You were working the register one day, taking people’s orders, which you didn’t mind as most of your customers were regulars and really kind. However, the sight of a particular person made you gasp, your eyes widening at the sight of them.

The man sauntered over, a smirk on his face as he approached the counter.

“Well, well, hi love,” he said.

You felt bile rise-up at his words, your mind swirling with a million thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

Your ex, Elias chucked and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can’t I just stop by for some coffee and to see my favorite girl?”

“I’m not your girl,” you sneered, your fists balling up at your side.

“Oh come on love, don’t be like that. I’ll take you back you know. Just be a good girl and be mine again.”

You were furious, heat rising to your face as your blood boiled. You could feel your hands shake, wanting to punch this man in front of you.

You were about to respond when another person stepped behind Elias, his eyes narrowed.

You looked up and recognized Hyunjin, your heart skipping at a beat at the sight of him.

“You’re holding up the line,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms and adapting a threatening stance.

“I’m almost done,” Elias said as he continued to focus on you.

You swallowed as you saw Hyunjin’s face turn red, his fists balling up.

“Is he bothering you y/n?” Hyunjin asked you, concern in his eyes.

You merely shook your head yes, scared your voice would betray you as you were close to tears.

“Leave.”

Hyunjin spat the word out with so much venom, even you were taken aback. He seemed so sweet and innocent, but it seemed he had a tough side as well.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Elias said, looking between you two. “Good luck man she’s a piece of work.”

At that, Elias turned on his heels and walked away, walking out into the crowded sidewalk. You found yourself letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as your eyes landed on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin let out a huff and then uncrossed his arms, as he walked up to the counter. His eyes searched yours, making sure you were ok.

“Hi,” you sheepishly replied as you fiddled with your apron.

“Hi,” Hyunjin replied as he smiled, clearly happy you were ok.

“So, can I get you anything?” You asked as you smirked.

“Hmmm, I was thinking we could have that chat. Sorry I haven’t stopped by sooner, work has been busy.”

At his words, you felt your heart flutter within your chest, your excitement rising at the prospect of spending time with him. You tried to control yourself before responding, willing your heart to slow.

“I’d love that. I get off at 8.”

Hyunjin smiled, elated that you accepted his proposal. “Perfect, how about I swing by and pick you up then?”

“Sure,” you said as you tried not to bounce on your feet.

“It’s a date then. Oh, and I guess while I’m here, might as well get an iced americano!”

You chuckled and began to ring him up, a smile on your face all the while. When you selected his cup to write his name down, you drew a cute smiley face, adding little stars around the face. You smiled at him as you set the cup down.

“See you tonight y/n,” he said as he turned to walk to the pick-up area.

Your mind was reeling, your heart pounding in your chest. Hyunjin called it a date, an actual date. Is it a date? Did he just ask you out? Or was he just saying that to be cheeky?

The rest of the day, the thought was on your mind, causing you to make a few mistakes as you helped out customers. As the time for your shift to end got closer, you began to feel nervous and jittery, as you weren’t able to stand still.

Hyunjin was right on time, a huge smile on his face as he walked in looking like an absolute angel. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not realizing you were staring until he called your name.

Apologizing profusely, you clocked out and grabbed your stuff, rushing to stand by his side.

“Where to?” You asked, looking up into his eyes.

“Well, I thought we could take a walk around the city? Chat a little and enjoy the night atmosphere?”

A walk after a long day sounded perfect.

“I love that, let’s do it!”

Hyunjin grinned and bowed, ushering you ahead. You giggled and blushed as he opened the door for you, the little bell tinkling lightly against the glass.

You stepped out into the night air, the crispness a nice welcome after being in the cafe all day. You both joined the many others making their way down the sidewalk.

“So you like poetry?” Hyunjin asked in a serious tone as he stared straight ahead.

“Mmhmm, I do. I studied English literature back in university. I don’t know, it’s just something about reading the words of those from long before you that creates such an intimate look into their life and thoughts.”

“I get it. I’ve been studying and reading poetry a few years now. It’s a comfort to me.” Hyunjin said, as he contemplated his thoughts.

“How long have you been reciting poetry?” You asked, turning to look at him.

Hyunjin paused in thought as he considered your question. “I’d probably say the last three years or so.”

You hummed in response, impressed with his dedication. You both were silent for a moment, the sound of crickets chirping through the night, their song almost melancholic.

“So…” Hyunjin began, “who uh…who was the guy that was harassing you earlier? Of course you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I was just curious…” he continued, his voice trailing off.

You let out a heavy sigh. You deserved to give him an answer, especially since he came to your aid.

“That was my ex, Elias. We broke up a few months back. He um…I caught him with another girl in our bed…”

Your mood fell at the thought, remembering the day when you came home, exhausted from your long day at work. You were excited to see your boyfriend and have a relaxing evening…that is until you found out he wasn’t exactly excited to see you as he was between some other girl’s legs.

You recounted to Hyunjin how Elias tried to deny the affair, even though you saw the proof with your own eyes, but you didn’t give him a chance to grovel, ending the relationship that very night.

Hyunjin listened intently, his heart breaking at the fact that someone who was supposed to love you betrayed you instead. He definitely thought you deserved better as you seemed intelligent and kind and not to mention beautiful.

“I’m sorry y/n… he seems like an asshole to be honest.” He replied as he balled his hands into a fist at the thought of the sleaze bag he encountered earlier in the day.

“I recognize that now. There were definitely signs leading up to that night, but I guess I chose to ignore them.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I get it. You were blindsided by what you thought was a loving relationship.”

You hummed in agreement. You were blinded and so stupid, but Elias was in the past. You didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

“You deserve better y/n, just thought I’d mention it.”

You felt the corner of your eyes prickle with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. Your chest felt heavy at his way of consoling you.

You did deserve better, and you believe that’s why his betrayal hurt so much. Your heart was healing, one day at a time. You could feel another stitch find its way within you at his words, Hyunjin’s company soothing. Somehow at that feeling, you knew you would be ok, and could continue to heal with the help of Hyunjin.

Your mind wandered to the man next to you. Maybe it was fate that you met him that night. If it wasn’t for your friend pushing you out of your comfort zone, you’d have never stayed to listen to others pour their heart out in prose and ultimately never met Hyunjin and his beautiful soul.

Months have passed and you are now dating Hyunjin. Each day is full of bliss as he showers you with love, making sure you feel like a queen.

He is picking you up after work and taking you to dinner as today is your birthday. You tried asking where he was going to take you, but he kept saying it’s a surprise.

You were excited to say the least at the thought of the night to come. Your shift couldn’t end soon enough, as the clock struck six, your boss letting you go early in honor of the special day.

Your face lit up at the sound of the bell, Hyunjin walking into the cafe. He looked handsome in his jeans and sweater, his hair styled neatly.

“Hi angel! Ready?” He asked, stopping at the counter.

“Yep! Let me clock out and grab my bag.”

Hyunjin chuckled as he watched you scramble around, picking up your bag and hurrying to his side.

“Now I’m ready,” you smiled, looking up at your boyfriend.

Hyunjin grinned and took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he brought the back of your hand to his lips for a kiss.

Even though you’ve been dating for a few months now, you still blushed at his antics, the novelty never wearing off.

“Then let’s go, angel.”

Hyunjin led you out of the cafe and outside. You looked around your surroundings, your eyes widening at every restaurant you passed, wondering if it would be the one.

However, you passed building after building, not stopping at any of them.

Hyunjin could sense your curiosity, as he gave your hand a squeeze. “We’re almost there, see?” He asked, pointing to a building in the distance.

You took notice of a brick building that seemed empty. You were confused as he guided you to the door, the corridor beyond eerie looking.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you were more than nervous at this point.

You trusted Hyunjin but a part of you was a little scared, not knowing what awaited you within the building.

“Don’t worry angel, let’s keep moving, just one more flight of stairs,” Hyunjin cooed, as you both walked up a flight of stairs.

At the top of the staircase there was a large door, the metal frame seeming unwelcoming. Hyunjin stopped in front of it and grasped the handle while looking at you with a bright smile on his face.

“Ready?” He asked.

You nodded your head and held your breath, prepared for whatever was on the other side. As he opened the door, you were greeted with a balcony overlooking the city, the skyline lit up against the night sky. There were fairy lights strung around the perimeter, casting a soft glow on the rooftop.

In the center, there was a small table, set up for two, the flicker of two candles casting shadows across the table. It was all so surreal. You couldn’t believe Hyunjin did all of this for you.

“Surprise!” Hyunjin said, dramatically wiggling his fingers.

You chuckled at his antics, all of your nervousness gone.

“It’s beautiful! I can’t believe you did this for me,” you said, your voice breaking as you looked at Hyunjin.

“Aww angel, don’t cry,” Hyunjin said as he rushed over to you.

He gently wiped the tear that had escaped while he pulled you closer to his body.

“I’d do anything for you y/n. I love you so much.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words as the feeling of butterflies fluttered within your stomach. You couldn’t believe your luck, happy that you were able to share this moment with the most perfect man.

“I love you too,” you gushed, your cheeks flushing with the statement.

Hyunjin flashed his beautiful smile before taking your hands in his once more.

“Shall we?”

“Yes please,” you softly said, letting him pull you toward the table.

You watched as he pulled your chair out, gesturing for you to sit. Once seated, he rushed to his chair and sat down. Your eyes followed his every move as he plated up dinner, the food smelling delicious as it was piled up on your plate.

He poured both of you a glass of wine and then signaled he was done. You both began to eat, the food seeming to melt on your tongue as a burst of flavors invaded your taste buds.

Hyunjin filled the evening with chatter, asking you about your day in detail. You were more than happy to discuss your day, as it was a little rough, having some difficult customers come through.

Once you were done eating, Hyunjin dished up dessert, setting down a slice of chocolate cake in front of you.

“You know me so well,” you said as you eyed the cake, your mouth watering in anticipation at eating the sweet treat.

“Of course angel, have to make sure you have your chocolate!”

You giggled and picked up your fork and cut a piece off. You moaned at the taste, your eyes closing as it melted in your mouth. You were in heaven, or close to it.

“So,” Hyunjin started as he twirled his fork around in his hand. “I am going to enter into the poetry night contest at the cafe. I think it would be something fun to do.”

Hyunjin looked at his plate, nervous in how you would respond. He wanted to share his talent with more people, and what better way to do so than through a friendly competition? The prize was also nice, one he believes would be worth winning.

“That’s a great idea baby!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands at the idea.

Hyunjin’s eyes lit up at your enthusiasm, his body relaxing further into the chair at your acceptance.

“Mind if we practice when we get home?” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Of course, I’d love to help you,” you gushed, excited to hear which poem he chose.

“Great, let’s pack up and then we can head back.”

You nodded and began to gather your trash, helping hyunjin clean up. Once done, you both walked back to his apartment, giggling and chatting the whole way, your arms swinging back and forth between you.

“Thank you for dinner baby, I really did enjoy it,” you said, as you continued your walk.

“I’m happy you liked it angel, anything for my baby.”

You chuckled, your heart swelling at how sweet he is. You walked in silence, enjoying the quiet of the city as it was late. Within the last few blocks from Hyunjin’s apartment building, an idea popped in your head.

“Wanna race the rest of the way and see who can get there first?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Oh yes! Let’s do it,” Hyunjin said.

“Just so you know, I plan on winning,” you teased as you dropped your hand from his.

“I’d like to see you try,” Hyunjin responded while squatting, preparing to take off.

“Ok, ready? 3…2…1..go!”

You both took off down the walk, a fluster of laughter and shouts as you both raced to his building. You couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy as you felt the wind blow through your hair as you raced your boyfriend. Tonight was a perfect night indeed and would definitely be one of your favorites.

— —

Once inside, you both made yourself comfy, changing into your sleep clothes. You giggled as Hyunjin pulled you into bed and pressed kisses all over your face.

“I love you sweet girl,” he murmured in between kisses.

“I love you too baby, that tickles!” You chuckled as he tried to pull you closer, all the while continuing to kiss you.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Happy birthday angel,” he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled before leaning over to kiss him on the lips, your heart swelling at the gentleness of the kiss. You both laid there for what felt like a lifetime, snuggled into each other’s embrace as you lazily kissed each other. You tugged your fingers through his hair, the soft locks gliding easily through them.

Hyunjin whimpered against your lips, as he pressed himself against you, his length hard against your thigh. You rolled your hips, grinding against him as you deepened the kiss, running your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance.

He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other as his tongue danced with yours. You wrapped a leg around his waist so you could feel him better and continued to grind against him, sighing against his lips as his cock brushed against your core.

Disconnecting with a gasp, you laid there catching your breath as you stared at your lover, taking in the love mixed with lust in his eyes. Your eyes fluttered as Hyunjin lightly dragged his finger down your cheek, to your lips, his thumb catching at your bottom lip.

You moaned as he slowly pushed his finger within your mouth, your lips immediately wrapping around the digit. You lightly sucked on his finger, your tongue swirling around the digit, your eyes on his.

You smirked as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. As you released his thumb with a pop, Hyunjin pounced on you, rolling you onto your back. He attached his lips to yours in a hurried kiss, his hands fumbling with your sleep shorts.

He dragged them down as best as he could, you aiding the process as you wiggled out of the fabric, your feet pushing them down your legs. Hyunjin pulled away briefly as he gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head.

You moaned as he attached his lips back to yours, your pussy clenching as he rocked his clothed cock into your core. He lazily kissed you, his pace slowing down, his heart beating against yours. You were lost in the feel of him when you heard him murmur, his voice sultry in your ear.

“She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

You pulled away slightly, confusion plastered on your face.

“Baby…what…”

But Hyunjin just silenced you with a kiss. “Shhh my angel, I’m practicing remember?”

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, lost in thought as his lips moved with yours, until it clicked a few seconds later. The poem. Ahh it made sense now.

At that, you relaxed further, letting out a sigh as his lips moved to your neck, sucking the skin there and licking the area to sooth it. Your fingers played with his hair, twirling the ends around the digit. As he continued to leave purple marks on your skin, he continued murmuring, his voice soft in the otherwise quiet room.

“One shade the more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace, which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o’er her face; where thoughts serenely sweet express, how pure, how dear their dwelling place.”

Once he was done reciting the next part, he trailed his lips on your chest, pressing wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. He wrapped his plush lips around your nipple, letting out little moans as he suckled the hardened nub.

“So beautiful angel,” Hyunjin murmured in between kisses as he fondled your breasts, his eyes closed in bliss as he savored your body.

His fingers trailed down your tummy, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way to your core, his fingers swirling around your swollen clit. You sighed as he continued to gently play with the nub, shocks of pleasure wrecking your frame as you surrendered to his ministrations.

As he tortured your sweet flesh, his eyes snapped up to watch you writhing in pleasure. Licking his lips, he took a shaky breath before continuing on.

“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow; but tell of days in goodness spent, a mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.”

You opened your eyes as he finished, his voice trailing off at the end. You looked down at the love of your life between your legs, watching the veins pop out of his arms as he continued to pay attention to your clit.

You were close, the pleasure building, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe. Your hands gripped the sheets, the white fabric bunching up as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

“So sweet, so beautiful, delicate like a flower. Cum for me angel.”

You groaned at his words, your orgasm hitting you hard as he continued to gently fondle you. He grinned as you fell apart, his eyes roaming your face, taking in the look of pleasure, the scent of you as your slick made a mess of his hands.

Once you came down, Hyunjin shuffled up, parting your legs even more. At some point he had rid himself of his clothes, his hand stroking his leaking cock.

He brought his length between your folds, running his cock through your slick, before pushing into you. You both let out a moan, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin as he began to thrust into you.

“My baby,” Hyunjin cooed as he leaned down, your hands wrapping around his neck as you brought him closer to you.

Hyunjin slowly thrusted into you, taking his time, his cock dragging through your walls and hitting your sweet spot each time. You whined as he buried his face within your neck, placing sloppy kisses there, as he murmured his love for you.

You felt overwhelmed as he made love to you, the heat within your core building again. You clutched onto Hyunjin anywhere you could, his hair, his back, his waist as he brought sweet bliss upon you.

You reveled in the sound of both of you, as you breathed as one, punctuated with a low moan as he continued to rock into you. Hyunjin groaned each time your pussy made known how good he was fucking you, his hips stuttering as you squeezed around him.

“Come on angel, cum for me, be a good girl yeah?” Hyunjin moaned into your ear, his pace becoming more erratic as he got closer to his high.

You felt his cock twitch within you, your pussy clenching again and again, locking him in. You were blindsided as the coil within you snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard as you gasped, your pussy dripping with your arousal, drenching Hyunjin’s cock as he continued to fuck you through it.

Hyunjin let out a loud groan at the feel of your walls spasming around him, triggering his high, his cum spurting out within you, thoroughly coating your walls.

As you came down, you watched the man you love fall apart above you, a sight you will never get used to. He looked down at you, sweat dripping down his face, his hair disheveled as he thrusted his hips within you a few more times for good measure.

“Such beauty in your afterglow,” Hyunjin cooed as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and trailed a finger from your lips, down your chest, your breasts, your tummy, all the way down to your core.

He dragged his finger through some of the cum that was leaking around his cock that was still buried within your heat. Taking his soaked finger, he brought it to your lips, smiling as you opened and took the digit in.

You swirled your tongue around his finger, licking up the salty liquid, humming as you swallowed.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin praised as he withdrew his finger and his cock.

You whimpered at the emptiness, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin. He snuggled into your embrace, pressing sweet kisses all over your face.

“Stop baby,” you giggled, turning your head side to side.

“Nope, won’t stop angel,” Hyunjin teased as he continued his assault.

You both battled for a little while longer, the room filled with laughter as you both teased each other. Hyunjin settled down however and stared at you, almost as if he was staring into your soul.

“You know I love you right?” Hyunjin whispered, as he memorized your face for the millionth time.

“Mmhmm,” you said as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “And I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled at your confession as he leaned to press another kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday,” he said as he rested his head on your chest.

This would be one of your best birthdays yet, filled with special moments with the man you love.

The days passed as Hyunjin prepared the competition. He was ready to win, ready to receive that prize so he could surprise you. He had a plan after all.

You helped him practice as much as possible, your nights spent at your place or his, snacks scattered around the table as Hyunjin paced the floors reciting the poem. You were sure he would win, as he improved greatly over the last few weeks.

You had to work the day of the competition, however, Hyunjin would meet you there before your shift ended.

“You got this babe,” you said to him as you left for your shift, giving him a smile as you walked out the door.

Your shift passed, your nerves getting the best of you as the time of the competition drew nearer. Ember showed up early, wanting to support your boyfriend and cheer him on.

You directed her to a table, so that way you both would have good seats for the night. It didn’t take long until Hyunjin showed up, handsomely dressed as always.

He smiled as he approached you. “Hi angel!” He gushed, his body radiating with excitement.

“Hi baby, ready?”

“Of course, gonna win this thing!”

You chuckled at his optimism. “Go sit, Ember saved us seats. I’ll be there soon.”

Hyunjin nodded and blew you a kiss before walking away, taking a seat next to your friend.

You finished your shift and clocked out, the time passing fairly quickly. You sat down next to Hyunjin and placed your hand on his giving it a squeeze. He seemed to be buzzing with enthusiasm, but deep down you knew he was nervous.

“You got this baby,” you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze.

Hyunjin smiled and relaxed, elated that you were there to cheer him on.

The event began in no time, the little cafe packed with patrons. You watched as contestant after contestant performed, their words filling the small space, and taking the listeners to a different place and time.

Before you knew it, it was Hyunjin’s turn. You and Ember cheered him on as he took his place on stage, his confidence oozing as he gazed at the crowd. You were captivated as he began to speak, the words reaching each person, telling a story of love and beauty.

Hyunjin maintained eye contact with each person, his voice raising and falling at the appropriate moments, his hands flowing in movements that helped tell the story.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and neither could anyone else. After he recited the last line, there was silence in the cafe as everyone recovered from the journey, before a thunderous applause rang out.

You grinned as you cheered enthusiastically, watching as your boyfriend bowed before walking back to your table.

“Good job babe!” You said as you kissed his cheek, the flesh reddening at the action as all eyes were on him.

As he was the last contestant, the award ceremony began shortly after his performance. You listened as your manager thanked everyone for being there to support these talented people as cheers rang out once more.

Once she was done with logistics, the time came to announce the winner. You held your breath as she slowly unfolded a piece of paper, your hand reaching out to hold on to Hyunjin’s.

She took a moment to read what was written before a smile broke out on her face.

“And the winner is….Hwang Hyunjin!”

Cheers rang out at the announcement, but loudest of all was you. You hugged Hyunjin tightly, tears forming in your eyes at his win.

Hyunjin stood up to go claim his prize, the loud uproar not dying down until he sat down.

“You did it!” You exclaimed, grasping his hands in yours.

Hyunjin beamed, his eyes shining as he tried not to cry.

“I did it for us love.” He said as he gazed into your eyes.

You cocked your head in confusion. “For us?” You inquired.

Hyunjin nodded as he handed you the prize he’d won. “Open it.”

You took the envelope from him and opened it, eyeing two pieces of paper nestled within. It took you a moment to notice what they were.

“Plane tickets?” You looked closer. “Oh! We’re going to Paris!” You exclaimed as you began bouncing on your seat.

“Yes we are angel,” Hyunjin said as he watched you dance in your seat.

Hyunjin needed to win this trip. He wanted to take you to Paris, the city of love, to shower you in love. He also had another plan up his sleeve, one that he had to keep secret for just a little longer.

His mind wandered to the little black box tucked away in his sock drawer, a beautiful diamond nestled in the velvet within. He knew you were the love of his life from that first day he saw you, sitting in the crowd listening to him speak.

You were his muse, his love, his everything; your aura radiating whispers of beauty.

He wouldn’t want to spend his life with nobody else but you. That he was sure of.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[pugh-bug]

Needy

One shot

sub Art Donaldson x dom reader - smut

This was so fun to write! I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think it genuinely means so much just getting one comment - also if you want to be tagged in all future Art x reader fics let me know <33

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“You can’t be serious.”

It was Art…again. Ever since you’d slept together he’d been knocking on your door more and more. The confusing thing was that his visits didn’t concern sex, he’d want help with things - little things like finding his phone or keys. When that got ridiculous to redo he started faking illnesses, some more convincing than others, asking you for medicines or bandages. Now here he was again, puppy dog eyes gazing at you - desperate for some glimmer of hope or affection. How you pitied him.

“Patrick beat me again.” His eyes turned to the floor.

“Is that supposed to impress me?”

No part of you was surprised, Art had been getting beaten by everyone recently. You’d stopped coming to his games to save yourself the embarrassment. The boy needed pushing, or motivating somehow. You looked at his little head, bowed in shame like a dog. “Come in then.” He practically jumped at that.

Once Art had gotten comfy, sitting cross legged in his shorts on your bed awaiting orders, you sighed. “You can’t keep letting Pat beat you, coming here and looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You took in his slightly flushed cheeks, his doe eyes under the pile of blonde curls and the slight craning of his neck to show he was listening.

“Like that.”

Art smiled a smile you almost returned but couldn’t quite bring yourself to. He was demanding to be lead on - begging for it. Well, you wouldn’t.

“If I’d known you were gonna be this needy I’d never have fucked you.”

His smile didn’t falter at that. He was annoyingly positive sometimes, full of complaints when he wanted attention but never cross when he was being told off. Art just wasn’t one for giving up. You shrugged off your jacket and sat next to him on the bed, ignoring the way his eyes admired every inch of you.

“I’m glad you did.” Art grinned, feeling proud as he remembered you stripping in front of him and swallowing his cum as he whimpered. He saw it as his greatest achievement, far more impressive than any dusty tennis trophy. All he wanted, more than Wimbledon - more than fame more than anyone was you. You consumed him, you had since first year. Since he first plucked up the courage to ask you to a Stanford party and your friendship with Patrick had given him a doorway. One he refused to step out of.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, staring at your face in awe - his hand edging towards your own on the bed. You felt something at how earnest he was, something akin to warmth but something you couldn’t deal with just yet. “Careful.” You warned. “Just think before you speak.”

Art shook his head, moving closer to you. “Mmm, can’t. Not around you.” God, he was cute when he was desperate. His little wriggly movements, his wide eyes and puffy lips. He’s probably hard already, you thought trying not to smile. Poor baby, it had been a week since you’d touched him and for Art a week of pure longing. He’d touched himself to the thought of your kisses so much he’d forgotten how to finish without you in his head. Without the flashing images of your lips round his cock or your grin at his moans he felt nothing.

Sensing a ‘no’ coming, Art did what he did best. He begged. “Please,” he moved your hair off your ear to kiss under it. “I miss you.” You asked him how that was even possible when he’d been practically living in your room but time meant nothing to this star player. A second without you was a second too long. “Need you now mommy…please.” Your stomach flipped at the honorific, how it dripped off his tongue so deliciously. It suited him. You wanted him to say it again.

Before you could say anything Art was planting eager kisses up and down your neck. You let him, told yourself you were giving him a much needed win but really you were loving it. With Art so preoccupied with your neck you could safely squeeze your thighs together. You both knew how desperate he was to fuck you again, everyone knew. Patrick knew. His trainer. Your trainer. Everyone in a 10 mile radius. What you didn’t both know was how likely it was to happen again if he’d only beg a little more.

To Art’s dismay you gently pushed him off you, looking into his pleading blue eyes trying not to break. “You realise I’m not your girlfriend right?” It was harsh but a fair question. The boy seemed unsure. When he didn’t answer you narrowed your eyes. “Because I’m not fucking you if you answer wrong.” Suddenly the tent in Art’s pants hardened and his pupils grew a few millimetres. He got all wriggly, like an animal caught in a trap. A horny, desperate one.

“You’re not my girlfriend.” Art sighed but it was clear he was still hoping for your approval. He knew it should disgust him, how much he craved and desired it, but it didn’t. Your hand on his thigh only spurred him on, reminding him that he’d follow you anywhere and that he’d be or do anything for you. Anything you asked.

“Art,” you could tell he’d retreated into his head. Nothing a hand down his shorts wouldn’t fix. “I need you to relax okay?” Art melted into your touch and at the gentleness of your voice, the care in it. You found his cock immediately, hard and desperate, and felt the weight of it in your hand for a moment. If you’d been feeling mean you’d have teased him but something told you if you didn’t touch him now he’d cry.

As your hand worked its magic Art closed his eyes, leaning his head ever so slightly back. He needed this and fuck did he look angelic taking it. His little breaths and fluttering lashes spurred you on. It didn’t take long for him to start bucking up into your touch desperate for you to go faster. You refused, ceasing your movements to pull him with both hands into a kiss. He practically gasped when your tongue entered his mouth but that was followed by a moan at the intrusion. He tasted like spearmint.

“You’re so,” you gasped in between kissing him. “Fucking cute.” Art felt charged up at your compliment. You usually avoided giving them out finding it easier to show your affection rather than state it. He treasured those moments where you let slip how much you really liked him.

“Mmmm!” He was close you could tell.

“You gonna cum for me?”

Art started nodding aggressively, eyes closed and hips bucking.

“You can’t wait till you’re inside?” You cooed in that patronising tone he found so sexy and hurtful. Art tried to think straight, though his body was betraying him as it chased the orgasm you were yet to give. You asked him again, playing nice, and it sunk in the second time. Art stopped bucking. He stopped moving at all. All he could do was watch in a mixture of sorrow and excitement as you let his cock go.

“Take your shirt off.”

Art knew an order meant sex was on the table - not even on the table it was guaranteed to happen. He didn’t let on how gleeful he felt at that fact, instead he obediently threw his t-shirt off. It landed in the pile of clothes on your floor but his eyes didn’t linger for long, they couldn’t not when you were taking your own shirt off. Art gulped at the sight of your bare chest, your tits that begged to be kissed and sucked and the line of your neck and shoulders. God he was obsessed with you, truly he felt almost in love.

Art’s mind raced with possibilities. Were you going to let him eat you out? Sit on his face? Were you simply going to straddle him without any foreplay and sink your warm, wet pussy down onto him? His cock twitched at the image. You hiked up your skirt and let him hurriedly pull down your soaked panties with wide eyes. He couldn’t believe that was for him - because of him. The most beautiful woman in the world is turned on…because of me.

“You’re so b-“

You promptly shut him up by sinking down onto him, his eyes grew even wider with shock. No warning, no words just pure lust. Art was inside you again, finally, and it felt so good he thought he could cum already. “Shit…” he moaned and you hadn’t even started to move. His size was an adjustment, especially seeing as you hadn’t let him pleasure you beforehand, but you felt deliciously full. Full and smug.

“I might just stay here,” you teased, rocking your hips painfully slowly. “Forever.” It was torture for Art, your painstakingly light movements and your gleeful smirk. You both knew what teasing him did to you - how powerful it made you feel. “Mommy…”

“I’m right here.” You cooed, gazing down at his eager face and lust filled eyes. He hadn’t bothered to take his shorts off, you’d just shoved them to the side, and somehow that turned you both on more. All that mattered to Art was you. Your bare skin so close to his own and your heavy breaths, those he could hear even over his own moans. Although you wanted nothing more than to torture Art and bring him to the very precipice of pleasure just to snatch it away you had to think about your needs. Your cunt was leaking already, your skin was hot and there was a fire inside you that needed him. So when he moaned:

“Fuckkkk…”

It seemed only right for you to say:

“Yes that’s it, fuck mommy.”

Art groaned, indulging his lust and carnal needs he’d usually feel embarrassed of. Before you Art had always hidden his desires from partners and even himself. He’d been raised conservatively, this you knew, so you found it gratifying to pull his real self out. It made you wet to see his cheeks redden when you said such things and you couldn’t help the smile that filled your face when you felt him harden even more inside you. He started to quicken his pace.

As Art closed his eyes to focus on how good you felt you stared at him, watching him. Studying him. The way he clamped his arms around your waist to easily thrust up into you, how his eyes were scrunched shut so he didn’t cum early and that one bouncy curl hiding his left eyebrow. He was beautiful, you had to admit. In your horny state it was easy to get lost studying Art and forget everything else. He felt the same about you.

Art didn’t wait too long before opening his eyes, not wanting to miss too much. Your tits were so close to his face as your chest heaved up and down up and down. It was driving him insane - you were driving the poor boy insane. How could he still need you when he was inside you?

The bed creaked under Art’s rabbiting movements, groaning under the strain of his excitement. He was groaning too, whimpering whenever you kissed or bit his neck and struggling not to cum. It was all too much, your warmth, your tits, your thighs wrapped round his own and your lips open to let out angelic moans. He wanted to give you everything, everything he had. All Art desired was to make you happy.

“Mommy!” there was a tinge of panic in his voice as he stared at you, awaiting permission but still fucking you hard and fast like you wanted. Feeling sorry for him you awed in his face, circling your hips to meet his movements and brushing the sweaty curls off his forehead. He wanted to cum. “Already?”

Art nodded frantically, feeling his release draw closer and closer. You were on the pill, he knew that, but he still needed permission. With every thrust he sheathed himself to the hilt and yet you still both needed more. “You gonna cum for me?” Art’s mouth started opening as he edged himself, not wanting this moment to end but needing release more than anything.

“Cum inside mommy, I want to feel it.”

That did it.

Before you could finish your sentence, Art was holding your waist impossibly close to him and releasing inside you. “Oh fuck…fuck mommy I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” His little whimpers and blushing skin sent you over, within seconds you were cumming too. The two of you were panting like animals, bucking into each other with all the energy you could muster. Art’s cum started to drip out of you, down his sensitive cock and onto the bedsheets but your focus was him. He was breathing heavier than last time, heavier than you’d seen him after matches.

“Are you okay?” You asked after a moment, with genuine concern. Not wanting to startle him you chose not to move, instead you held him in your arms and kissed his cheek. The softness of it made Art feel safe but more sorrowful that you wouldn’t date him. “I’m okay.” He looked out of it so you squeezed his hand. “You can sleep here.” The boy practically jumped for joy. He thought he’d won.

“No, no.” You laughed at his presumptuousness. “This doesn’t mean what you’re thinking.” But Art slept wonderfully well that night believing there was hope yet.

——————————————————————

Masterlist

Resources 🇵🇸🇸🇩🇨🇩

Permanent Art taglist:

@theynothem @amorisxx

[bastardlybonkers]

THE WAY I GASPED OUT LOUD WHEN I SAW U WROTE ANOTHER STARBEE FIC....

your giving me one million billion added years onto my life when you post art or a fic i love it soooo soo much <<33 >_< !!!!!! ur writing style is so so sooooo good tytytysm for writing and sharing more starbee

also id kill for some good general tf fic recs from u <<33

tysm !!!!

thank you so much!!! i love writing and drawing starbee, i havent felt this motivated in so long lol im really glad that other people are enjoying it as much as im enjoying making it.

as for fic recs, im not sure if you mean 'general' as in the 'general' rating, or 'general' as in 'not necessarily starbee', so ill have two different sections for these recs, one for general and teen, and one for mature and explicit! lets go :D

GEN & TEEN

O Lazarus by Trinary: Starscream/Shockwave, Regeneration One continuity. i just absolutely love this fic, i think its so well written, and i adore regen1 shockscream. i think this fic really nails that awkward early dynamic between them, starscreams trauma, and shockwaves burgeoning emotions. i really like how viscerally you feel starscreams emotions in this one. if you havent read regen1 but want good shockscream, the fic provides context in the opening notes 👍

In a Different Light by jabberish: Jazz/Prowl, All TFS media. this ones fun and cute with just the slightest brush of angst, i love it. the whole premise is that theyre at a party, and jazz realizes that prowl has face blindness. they put their helms together to help prowl navigate the crowd. cute fun read, pre-relationship, could almost be considered a meet-cute were it not that they know each other already in this lol.

we will rest upon the ground by lunarblazes: Bumblebee & Elita One, TFOne. the two of them have a quiet conversation the night before everything goes to shit. contemplation about new bodies, getting to know each other, bee realizing that elita isnt as terrifying as he thinks and elita realizing that bee isnt as annoying as she thought. just a really great read, i love it and i love their friendship

Just For Tonight by Prowlsuniboob (orphan account sadly 😔): Fortress Maximus/Prowl, IDW1. i really like how well this one captures prowls character. oftentimes, ill see him kind of...woobified, i guess, in idw1 fics, probably because people are used to other continuities where hes nicer (or just want him to be nicer lol) but i really like how complex and messy he is in idw, i love how much he sucks lmao. i think this one strikes a great balance in how hes an asshole whos made a lot of terrible decisions but hes also so, so lonely. and fort max, whos been on the business end of prowls shit tier decisions firsthand, is like jesus christ. i hate it but i pity him now. prowl being drunk in this is the perfect way for him to be more unguarded.

Subharmonics (series) by neveralarch: Megatron & Starscream, Gen 1. this is The starscream dysphoria fic series, and i like megatrons dysphoria too! i also like the way that theyre experiencing two different types of dysphoria, and starscreams complicated feelings in the second one of the series. this is a rare one where they arent being as awful to each other as usual lol, i like to imagine this mostly takes place during a lull period in the war where they arent as turbulent and toxic. very very good

the war is over and we are beginning by lord_squiggletits: Megatron/Optimus Prime, IDW1. this one is part of a larger series of theirs, but i havent read it, i just love the megop angst and softness here. its not required to read the rest of the series, so thats why im recommending it by itself since thats what ive read lol. a very good look into how megatron feels that love has made him weak, while optimus doesnt feel the same.

Hazard Light by EatYourSparkOut: Brainstorm/Perceptor, IDW1. hanahaki au but like, robot hanahaki! extremely fun. ive always liked when people bend popular fanfic tropes to work with transformers instead of just throwing the trope on there, and i think this fic does that excellently. i also just love the way that they write perceptor, hes a character i didnt contemplate too much on until reading this fic and i was like man im missing out on this guy 🤔 i think this is a pretty popular simpatico fic so if u ship them youve probably already read it, but if you havent and youre in the mood for some light body horror, angst, cringy flirting, and perceptor being the most ridiculously avoidant mech known to man, please give it a read its great

A Slight Overreaction by Something_Wrong: Soundwave-centric, Gen1 & IDW1. i reread this one all the time. it is just so fucking funny for no reason, im obsessed with the way soundwave acts in this. like yeah of Course a dude so crazy about secret collecting and information acquiring would get so bent out of shape over something so simple. the author had really great comedic timing, its a great read if you want some silly soundwave that has you going 'ohhh buddy...please just take a nap 😂' by the end.

I prove a theorum and the house expands by apprenticenanoswarm: Dinobot/Rattrap, Beast Wars. dinobot has dyscalculia! thats pretty much the whole fic lol, just rattrap realizing that dinobot and numbers Do Not Mix. i really love their dynamic in this, its written very well and i love the sort of...idk, ease? to their interactions? its great

Helpless by platonicharmonics: Megatron/Optimus Prime (Megatronus/Orion Pax), TFP. in which before everything, orion pax meets the coolest bitch hes ever seen in his life at a gala, and that coolest bitch somehow also thinks that hes the coolest bitch. very sweet, excellent dialogue, and also autistic orion, which is one of my favorite hcs. its hard to find autistic prime without it feeling woobifying, but i think this one does an excellent job. if you feel like something romantic and charming with that hint of 'oh god they dont know the horrors on the horizon' feeling, check this out

Everyday Words by fowo: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Earthspark. just some old men being in love, and the most accidental, casual marriage proposal ever. very sweet and tender, healing for the heart. they deserve to be ridiculous old men together

MATURE & EXPLICIT

Constructed Hot by neveralarch: Starscream/Bumblebee, IDW1. THE starbee fic for me. seriously, i just adore how this one is written, starscream and bees dynamic is Peak here, and i love the balance between bees angsting over being a ghost and starscreams angsting over being. well. ig in his mind a sexual deviant lol. if the ageplay tag turns you off, its transformers ageplay, pretending to be newly built, not a child. ageplay is a personal squick of mine so id been tentative myself when i first read it, but if its also a squick for you, i dont think this one crosses the line enough for it to get to me lol. ugh god i just love this fic so much. also, its PLUG N PLAY!!! my favorite :D its also the one where i got the idea for the thigh ports!! i think its been in plenty of other fics, ive read it elsewhere since then, but this was the first i had seen it like that. top tier fic

Every Wise Man's Son Doth Know by zuzeca: Megatron/Optimus Prime, IDW1. another absolute top tier, constantly rereading this one. i love optimus being a freak and wanting megatrons hands back on his spark. and i love how megatron is written here hes so...megatron. augh. ugh. i dont really have much else to say other than read it, old man ptsd yaoi real.

stitches to show something's missing by Llwy: Tarn/Pharma, IDW1. this is the only fic so far thats inspired me to write a sequel, i just could NOT get it out of my mind. pharma takes things into his own hands to stop the djd, then he takes things a step further, then too far. i really loved how this fic makes you think about the ethics of it all, and wonder at what point did it stop being about saving lives and start being about lording power over tarn for pharma. and tarn...TARN...i wish i could write another sequel or SOMETHING i want more in this series i really care about their tarn. i think hes written in a very fascinating way here, though if youre looking for canon-typical tarn, this isnt it.

Fragments by Graveyard: Brainstorm/Perceptor, IDW1. rated m for the body horror more than anything sexual, since its sparkplay. brainstorm makes a terrible mistake and nearly dies, perceptor saves his stupid ass, and brainstorm has a nearly-died epiphany. despite the grave circumstances its also a very funny fic lol just by virtue of the characters being who they are (its very in-character, which i love). and, ofc, i loooove body horror i love it so much, this one isnt too much body horror if it makes you squeamish but he does start to melt a little lol. enjoy!

Something, Anything by absolute_minimum: Prowl/Fortress Maximus, IDW1. prowl is lonely (what else is new) and wants fort max to beat the shit out of him. but also he wants him to fuck him. they both just want to feel something, but after an incident, max wants them to feel something Good. i really like this one, once again i think this is one that captures shit tier asshole prowl very well while still making him a sympathetic character, just as the comics do. and fort max is also so good in this, how angry he is versus how he will Not compromise his principles, and when theyre softer its just. urreghhgh i want a part two. actually i also wish Just For Tonight had a sequel too...i think. i want more fortprowl lmao

Ghost in the Machine by EatYourSparkOut: Bumblebee/Starscream, IDW1. bumblebee accidentally possesses starscream and they jack off. its a fun time. i really like the descriptions of fear and violation in this, how visceral starscreams reaction is but also how earnest bumblebee is like 'i Did Not mean to do that oh my god'. starbee my beloved you can pack so many issues in you

Tarnished Silver by spockandawe: Sunstreaker/Mirage, IDW1. do you know HOW hard it is to find good idw sunstreaker angst??? ITS HARD. it is so fucking hard. premise is that sunstreaker and mirage used to have their bdsm sessions before. well. the Everything happened, and theyre having their first one again after everythings changed. this one really nails the angst factor, i love that the whole time youre reading, you can feel the loss of things that used to be pleasurable to him before he went through everything that he did, and his guilt is just ridiculously palpable. mirage in this is great too, i like how, just like sunstreaker, there are moments where you really dont know what hes thinking, so when he reassures sunstreaker you as the reader feel it too. very good i love this one so much

Stress Test by 0 (only_elsewhere): Starscream/Bumblebee, TFRiD. i didnt think i would like starbee in RiD, nor did i think id like anything with heats, but i really like this fic!! its another one where they robotify a common trope (this one being heats) to make it work for transformers, and i just love how in-character both bumblebee and starscream are. bumblebee especially is really standout in this, hes just that perfect blend of cocky and sharp both in tongue and mind, while still being young and trying to hide the fact that hes not sure what the hell hes doing. stupid kidnapping, fuck or die, and the most horrible feeling for bumblebee of 'oh GOD no. do i LIKE him now???'. very fun read

What You Can Have by DesdemonaKaylose: Rung/Swerve, IDW1. id never seen this pairing before this! really interesting premise, rung is tired of nobody remembering him and never being noticed, and his only coping mechanism that works is basically letting anyone and everyone fuck him (but nobody remembers it anyways 😭). problem tho! swerve remembers seeing him get fucked, and cant get it out of his head. theres a specific line in this that i think about all the time, i reread it so much just to feel that gut punch again of That Line auuugh so good. please check out if you want to feel things about a ship you probably never considered

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Ares, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Hello! I'm so sorry because this is a bit random and you definitely don't have to answer. But I'm a writer too and is it just me or has Tumblr been seeing much less interactions with fanworks these days? People aren't reblogging the way they used to and it's bugging me. Someone reblogged one of my fics this morning with "I don't usually repost fics but this one stole my heart" and I'm pleased with the compliment obviously but it did rub me the wrong way... Tumblr has no algorithm that'll push fanworks to you, and if you like something you're a lil bit responsible for it being shared. And while I do thankfully receive compliments and encouragement on that blog, on another it's just... It feels a bit like they don't care for the author, they just want the fics.

I know this was a bit random, apologies again! I just didn't know who else to take this too. Hope you're having a wonderful week!

I mean, I do agree with you on the “people unfortunately no longer engage with or reblog stuff like they used to in the past” though, as a fellow writer, I don’t believe anybody is “responsible” for reblogging things they enjoy, be it fanfiction or anything. like… yes, reblog means a whole lot to us artists. Like as a function — for Tumblr — doesn’t actually help that much (Like still helps, we still appreciate Like, but it’s not as effective as Reblog), because unlike other social media platforms, Tumblr Like isn’t going to get the content spread to wider audiences. but still, I don’t want to guilt trip anybody into thinking that “reblogging stuff you enjoy is a Must on Tumblr” because then it kind of becomes a “responsibility”, and I don’t think “responsibility on anybody’s end (be it artists’ or audiences’)” is why we create art to begin with, be it fanfiction or fan art or any other form of art.

instead I’d like to encourage people to please reblog the stuff they like. we do appreciate you if you like our posts, but we will appreciate you even more if you reblog and help our content reach wider audience.

please please please please don’t be shy to reblog what you like. reblogging is also a great motivation for your favorite artists to create more art you can enjoy.

reblog is like giving your friend a cup of hot chocolate as a way of thanking them for giving you a gift (fanfic or fanart), in the sense that it’s not your ‘responsibility’ to give your friend a cup of hot chocolate because when your friend gifts you the gift (fanfic or fanart), they do it out of love, not because they demand something in return from you, but your friend will still greatly appreciate the cup of hot chocolate nonetheless, and there will more likely be more gifts (fanfic or fanart) from them this way.

[jinx-xxed]

Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 1; Strange sight

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; My first multi-part fic!! I’ve never been able to commit to one before so I’m really hoping I’ll be able to see this one through cuz I have some good ideas for it :]. I hope you enjoy, that’ll help keep me motivated too!! Also thanks to my bestie for the idea for the chapter titles ♡

This writing is based on this fan art ! It made my jaw drop to the floor when I saw it and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Part 2 ⇨

Summary; The First Order Agencies have come across a new, strange creature and it becomes your job to study it. You get far more than you bargained for.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, scientist reader, soulmates, angst, feral Kylo, like legit feral bro does not know about human society, there’s a part where he eats a bunch of raw meat (I did not enjoy it), Kylo’s being studied in a lab, he studies you too, he’s scared and sad and angry (what else is new), lots of tension, neither of you know how to feel

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings. This story will eventually have 18+ content.]

Wc; 3.5k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“I’m sorry?”

You look down at the sheets that had just been slid to you across the mahogany desk. It’s a thick packet stapled together, the papers perfectly crisp and white. On them is paragraph upon paragraph detailing the new assignment that your superiors at First Order Agencies have decided to place on you. Your hands reach forward from where they’d been resting in your lap to tentatively flip through the packet, your brows creasing further with each page.

Studying an unknown creature. Studying something that nobody knows what it is or where it came from, something that the only thing people know about it is that it’s incredibly dangerous. You briefly scan over the pages dedicated to the description of the creature—black fur, wolf like appearance, supposedly male, huge, able to take on a humanoid state. You see that in place of a true name, it’s been given the label of OB-2637. Written at the bottom of the description is “BEWARE CREATURE, WILL ATTACK. STAY IN DESIGNATED OBSERVATION BAYS FOR SAFETY.” Lovely. There’s no pictures attached so your imagination is free to run wild, thinking up an image of a hulking beast with drool covered teeth and ragged fur covering its misshapen body. You shudder.

“Wh- why is this being given to me?” You ask, looking up at the one who’d given you the papers. He goes by Hux and he oversees your sector of the Agency, making him your boss. “I’m just a nature observationalist. I feel like I’m not-“

“You’re the most qualified one in this facility.” Hux states. He sounds uninterested, his shrewd face giving no insight as to what he thinks about the Agency housing a dangerous, unknown creature of unknown origin. “We agreed that with your knowledge about the “wild world”, it would probably give you the most insight on this… thing. You’ll be paid generously for your work based on your findings if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You’d seen the amount they were offering you, it was certainly nothing to scoff at. You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m more concerned that this seems above my level. I’ve never dealt with something like this since I’ve been here.” You say. You’ve been with the First Order for almost five years now. It’s a government agency that’s kept tightly under wraps, mostly because the Agency deals with things that they think “normal civilians” shouldn’t be made aware of. It took a lot for you to get accepted into this position.

Hux leans forward against his desk, the dimness of his office making his features look even crueler than usual. “If you really doubt yourself that much, then you don’t have to take this job. But I’ll make it known that if you turn this down, it’ll go to the next best person and I don’t think they’ll be as… compassionate towards this thing as you will be.” He says. His tone is so heavy, so serious. It holds so many implications that have your palms sweating. He shrugs as he relaxes in his chair. “I’m sure they’ll probably end up killing it. Theres a lot of people in this place that want to dissect that creature piece by piece. So it’s not just about your qualifications, it’s about how you’ll decide to treat another living being—that’s why you were the first pick.“

You swallow and your spit almost gets stuck on the lump in your throat. You look again at those papers, at what will be waiting for you in those lower levels of the facility. You think over Hux’s words, you roll them around in your mind in the same way you’d roll something in your mouth to get the taste of it. You know that he’s right, that anybody else would kill this creature just to get a thorough look at it. Anything in the name of science, after all. You know the people working in the First Order are not kind-hearted, most are cruel and cold. You have few friends in this place, even after the amount of time you’ve spent here. Your answer becomes clear to you. You don’t want this creature to die.

“I’ll take the assignment.” You say at last, steeling yourself so you don’t lose your nerve. You can do this. Surely it won’t be that hard? You just need to observe some type of animal, find out what it is, where it came from. That’s your whole job. You do that every day.

“Good choice.” Hux nods. He digs something out of a drawer. “Sign this and then be on your way.” He gives you an NDA, one that’s specifically catered towards this assignment. You’ve signed countless versions of these since you started working for the Agency, so it’s nothing new as you fill out everything you need to. You think nothing of them now, it’s not like you have people in your life to tell about your job anyway.

Hux takes the paper once you’re done. “Floor twenty. Your badge has already been approved for access. You shouldn’t experience any trouble.”

That’s a stern dismissal if you’ve ever heard one. You stand from your chair, smoothing out your lab coat as you go. You grab the packet of information; it’s not much but it at least gives you something to go off of. “Thank you, sir.” You say. Hux merely grunts in acknowledgment, already buried in the paperwork for something else.

You leave his office, taking a deep breath when the door shuts behind you. Holding the packet close, you walk through the halls of the building’s upper floor. When you think about it, the above-ground section is like a mask to the public eye. It’s all of the boring offices, gaudy paintings littering the walls, carpeted floors. It’s unassuming and basic and meant to hide what lays below the surface: all of the Agency’s experiments, their studies, and their classified documents stuck behind vaults. That’s where most of the employees are, that’s where your own office is. There’s few people upstairs and the ones you do manage to pass don’t even spare you a glance on your way to the elevator.

One of the two elevators opens a second after you press the button. You step inside and hit the button for the twentieth floor. The door closes without anyone else inside, leaving you blissfully alone. There’s no classic elevator music that plays, there’s only the sounds of the machine working to keep you company. Your hands frequently change position on the papers you hold to try and keep from drenching one spot in your sweat.

It feels like an eternity before the elevator begins to slow and there’s a resounding ding as it reaches the twentieth floor. The second lowest floor in the facility; you can’t even imagine how far underground you are. The hall you enter in to is pure white, fluorescent lights bouncing off the walls and floors. There’s nobody you can see and you know based on your packet that the only other people involved in this assignment are guards and a few nutritional specialists. You’re on your own.

The halls of this floor hold few doors, instead mostly housing holding cells and laboratories. You use your badge when you come upon authorized entryways, that unsmiling face in your picture getting you the beep you need to pass through. You’re halfway to where you know you need to go when you begin to hear strange noises. Clinking chains, the faint snarl. Sounds of struggling. You really should just turn back, try to ignore all of this and pretend you don’t care about the fate of some defenseless animal. You know you can’t though, so you keep walking on unsteady legs.

There’s one final door you need to pass through, one last door keeping you from a sealed fate. You feel the sense of foreboding prickling the back of your neck, your shirt sticks to your spine from your perspiration. The door beeps in response to your badge, your hand hesitates on the handle. It opens into a massive room, snow white in color with a black rim. Theres very little inside it; there’s data pads built into the walls for recording observations and there’s a one way window stretching along the right wall. You don’t know who would be on the other side. The room is separated by a massive pane of reinforced glass, stretching from floor to ceiling, spanning the entire length.

You finally see what that glass is meant to keep in and everything seems to freeze. That’s no animal, no creature, or bizarre thing. It’s nothing like what they made it seem. That’s a human. A human male kept in a cage, thoroughly restrained. His body is just the same as yours, albeit much larger and far more muscled, but he has the same limbs, the same fingers and toes. No paws or excess fur, just sharp black nails at the ends of his fingers that have put claw marks in the floor. His attention turns to you then and you see his face. He’s what you’d describe as beautiful; his features are both sharp and soft at the same time, his nose strong, and his pale skin dotted with moles and freckles. His face is framed by waves of black hair and he’s captivating, even with blood smeared on his chin and neck.

Your eyes meet. God, his eyes. They’re human, they’re round and the pupils are blown out with his emotions. Even from your place at the other side of the room you can tell the honey brown color and you can see the fear swimming in them. If you didn’t dismiss it as you being crazy, you’d say there was some sort of spark that flared between you both for some inexplicable reason. Like there was a sort of understanding rooted deep down that you didn’t get. Then it was gone.

And then the frozen second snaps and everything is thrown back into motion. His expression shifts into something angry and fierce and he makes an attempt to lunge at you. His movements are so powerful, even with every limb bearing thick cuffs with chains connected to the wall, even with one around his neck. He comes so close to the glass, his hands reaching in your direction, those claws scraping uselessly against the floor. You flinch back on instinct, your breathing coming fast and hard. It’s then that you see the ears and tail on the man. They are indeed akin to a wolf like the papers said, black ears sitting in his hair and a large, fluffy black tail protruding behind him. When his mouth opens in a snarl, you see the unnaturally sharp canines that he has. They’d rip you apart in no time.

He tries a few more times to get at you before realizing it’s useless. It’s probably not a new feeling for him. He retreats to the back wall where the chains are connected, making them go slack and giving him more movement. He tries to shrink himself—an impossible task with such a huge body—his tail coming to wrap around his feet. He doesn’t have much within his cell—only a small cot and a singular blanket as a bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in the other corner.

You swallow. You realize how long you’ve been standing there without moving so you force your wobbly legs to take one very small step forward. Then another and another until you’re about halfway towards the glass. He watches you with such intensity the entire time it makes you nervous. You try to take another step before he growls at you, a deep and rumbling sound that has you freezing. When you retreat, he stops.

“Okay. I’ll stay here then.” You say, standing in the spot you’d been in before that last step. This is where you’d begin. Small things to make him more comfortable in this unfamiliar environment; you’d follow his rules.

Seeing no chairs around you, you lower yourself to the floor. It’s cold even through your layers but you don’t mind. You have no room to complain when you look at him with no shirt or shoes, nothing to really keep him warm besides thin pants and that blanket on the cot. You study him in silence, just like how he studies you. You feel confusion over the conflict of the report versus what you see before you. The report had first described a wolf-like appearance that could take on a humanoid form but all you see in front of you is a human man with wolf ears and a tail. Maybe they’d overexaggerated?

Now that a fragile peace has settled between the both of you and he’s sitting still, you’re able to see the scar running along the left side of his face. It travels all the way down his collarbone before finally stopping. It’s deep and jagged and you can only imagine how badly it must’ve hurt; he’s lucky he didn’t lose his eye from it. Looking over him, you see he has a multitude of scars all over the planes of his body. He’s a fighter, then. With the way he’d lunged at you as soon as you entered, it doesn’t take you by surprise.

You clear your throat from your nerves. You begin with stating your name. You don’t even know how much he can understand you or if he can at all but you continue anyway. “I’m not here to hurt you. I know you probably don’t trust that, and I understand. We just want to know more about you.” You say. You inwardly cringe because this all sounds so weird to say to another human. You clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. “If you can speak, it would be a huge help if you’d explain some things about yourself. What’s your name and age? Where’d you come from?”

You don’t get a response—you didn’t expect one. He sits there with his knees up to his chest and his face partially hidden by his hair just staring at you, his eyes so wide and telling that it’s hard not to meet that stare. This is how it’ll be then. That’s fine, you’re used to sitting in one spot for hours and watching for an animals every minuscule movement. That’s what you end up doing, merely watching him and studying his body. Every twitch of the finger, every tense of the muscle is something you keep note of. It’s a good way to get a basis of information about what you’re studying so you always have something to compare to. You log everything in your mind for now, thinking how you’ll need to remember your laptop for next time.

There’s a sudden noise that leaves both of you startled. You sit up straighter and his ears perk up as a door to the right inside his cell opens. His wolf ears flatten back against his head and he scoots farther from the door, his chains clinking with the movement. You watch curiously as a human-shaped, somewhat janky robot enters with a plate balanced in its hands. You never see much of the Agency’s robots, mostly because most of them are unfinished and unpolished, but it seems they’re useful when real people don’t want to get near a deadly thing. The robot drops the plate unceremoniously on the floor and you notice with a start that blood splatters. The robot leaves.

Both you and the beast-man look at the plate before he decides to move towards it. You make another mental note about how much he surveys his surroundings before deciding what to do, as if weighing all options and possibilities.

The plate is rather large and holds a copious amount of raw meat, seemingly from multiple different animals based on the coloring and sizes. Blood slowly drips off the edge of the plate, pooling on the white floors. You can’t help the revulsion you feel looking at it as he inches closer, sniffing the scent of meat and blood into his nostrils. His eyes widen at it, pupils expanding, and he immediately takes a massive slab into his hands. His teeth tear into it like it’s paper, those fangs ripping it apart as blood drips down his chin. Despite your disgust, you’re also fascinated. So his digestive system can handle raw foods—like a wolf. I wonder what the layout of it is. What kind of bacteria is in there? You think, pondering over the idea as you watch him eat like a beast.

He finishes most of the plate, leaving only a few tinier pieces that he pushed aside. He must not like the taste of that particular animal. He seems more at ease now that he’s been fed, the worry of whether or not he’d get another meal satiated. He’s unbothered by the blood on his clawed hands and face as he sits back down and returns to watching you. When his eyes find you again there’s a shiver that goes down your back. There’s something in them you can’t place and it creates a weird feeling in your gut that you can’t decipher.

The rest of your day goes by without a hitch. You sit on the floor and study the beast-man in silence. You don’t try talking to him anymore, you’d rather not make a fool of yourself if he won’t say anything back to you—if he even can. He doesn’t do anything, there’s nothing to do in his cell anyway. He sits and watches and at one point he laid down on his back facing you so he could still keep an eye on you. There was one last meal time where you got to see him eat a bunch of raw meat again which wasn’t… great for your own appetite.

Hours passed before the lights finally began to dim, meaning the facility was shutting down for the night. There’ll still be people working the entire time, of course, but they shut down a majority of the power in the unused areas. You sigh to yourself, unfolding your body and getting up with a grunt from the stiffness in your limbs. The beast-man who had been drifting off before is now fully alert, wide eyes watching. You go to move towards the door and he growls at you. It startles you, makes goosebumps pick up along your arms. You look back at him with furrowed brows, confused. “I’m leaving, alright? I won’t bother you anymore.” You huff. This is what he wants so why is he getting pissy? You feel annoyed about his attitude for a second before you remember he’s the one stuck in a cell and you’re not. He has a right to be mad with you.

You sigh again and go to the datapads in the wall by the door. Since you don’t have your laptop, you take a few minutes to input the things you observed today that you’ll just transfer over later. You find yourself writing down a lot more than you thought you would and it makes you feel accomplished, like you actually did something today. When you’re finished, you put your hand on the door handle, ready to leave. But you pause, you look back at him and you know it was a mistake instantly. He looks so sad, so alone and afraid in that large, white room. You struggle to tear yourself away and open that door before you do something crazy.

You shake your head as you enter the hall, the door locking firmly behind you. Your mind feels like it’s shut off while you retrace your steps; back through the winding halls, back up the elevator, back into the main building. Back to your car where you grip the steering wheel with a deadly force, staring blankly at the road on your long drive home. Then finally, back to your small house where there’s no lights on inside because there’s nobody waiting for you.

You unlock the door and step in, a wave of something like loneliness washing over you when you do. It’s strange, it’s never been like this before. You try to ignore it as you shed your lab coat and make a simple dinner and sit on your couch. You don’t move for a moment, your brain deciding that now is a good time to rerun everything from today. That was a man. It wasn’t a beast, not really. And they have him stuck in a cell like that. It’s inhumane, isn’t it?

You find yourself with your head in your hands, groaning loudly as some form of release. “God, what have I gotten myself into?”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Part 2 ⇨

[justwonder113]

Showering Bang Chan with affection

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

⚠️ Warnings:  gender neutral reader, Kinda suggestive but nothing is implied. Reader is Whipped but no worries so is Channie. 🖋️ Author’s Note- this is the first ever fic I've ever written about Stray kids so I'm really excited. I really hope you'll like it. Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open if you're interested. Sorry if the grammar is bad English isn't my first language. 📝 Word Count: 750 💬 let’s talk! reblogs/comments = love, motivation, serotonin 📜 Masterlist: ☕ Ko-fi:

You two laid on the bed, with you carefully watching your boyfriend with literal heart eyes and him playing on his phone. You finally managed and convinced the Bang Christopher Chan to take a day off and just rest. And now he was all snuggled up in his favorite hoodie his curly hair cutely messed up, skin glowing all nicely from the skincare evening you held and now he was immersed in his game.

You two were set on just chilling and having a lazy day content in each other's presence. You were reading your book and were set on finishing it but you got distracted by your boyfriend's grumbling. He mumbled something about someone cheating his pouty lips cutely jutted out. This adorable sight was enough to distract you from your book. Admiring your boyfriend felt more interesting anyways.

You had no idea how much time has passed since but still it didn't feel enough , he was so immersed in his game he didn't even notice your eyes on him. You didn't want to seem like a creep but you couldn't take your eyes off of him. He was literal perfection in your eyes, it felt like watching art piece at a museum. The way he had his eyebrows drawn in concentration, his happy giggles whenever something went his way or the way he pouted his pretty lips when it didn't, it had your heart jumping in your ribcage.

In fact he was pouting right bow and mumbling about something you didn't really catch on and also didn't really paid any mind to it. Now you had different goal you wanted to achieve. Your mind was occupied with only one thing, which was to kiss him senseless and that's what you were set on doing.

You set aside your book and slowly crawled to him, carefully getting in his lap to not disturb his game. His hands immediately wrapped around you and he quickly kissed your temple. It was cute how even when he was distracted he never failed to give you your much needed affection. It was little things like this that made you fall for him more and more every day, make you feel like a teenager experiencing love for the first time ever.

You felt kinda bad that you were distracting him but as soon as his warmth engulfed you, the second you felt his familiar comforting scent surround you you were a goner and all plans to stay put were gone.

At first you started leaving slow soft kisses on his neck, amused at the shivers that run down his whole body. You felt his grip on your waist tighten, he even muttered something you didn't quite catch on. The main thing was he was not opposed to your sudden affection so you gave yourself a green light. You kissed the spot on his neck that you knew was his weak spot and you couldn't help but smile when he giggled at the tickling feeling.

In a matter of seconds your self control was thrown out the window and you kept leaving kisses wherever you could reach, his neck, his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his squishy lips. You were so immersed you didn't even realize when he put his phone away, he put his arms around you, caging you against him now willing to let go even for a second. He watched you with eyes filled with so much love and passion, shining so brightly any star would be jealous, you were taken back for a second at the intensity of his gaze. God, you were so in love with this man. You sometimes even wondered if he could feel it. You were expressive with your feelings but you were not sure if you were fully expressing it, making him realize just how much he meant to you. Loving him was part of your being now, part of your existence. And you hated how there were not words that could be used to express your feelings.

Channie looked at you with knowing eyes, as always fully aware of what were you feeling and thinking. " I know love, I adore you more." He softly muttered against your cheek leaving a soft kiss there, sending shivers down your spine.

You huffed out a laugh while shaking your head, "Not possible love."

He playfully rolled his eyes, mischief glimmering on his beautiful face. "Let me prove it to you then" he whispered against your lips before sealing your them together.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧ 

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤 

📜 my taglist : 

 If you’d like to be added, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post 🤍 

☕ Ko-fi — support my writing  Any support is deeply appreciated and helps me keep writing more stories like this. 

[rooksamoris]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that orders are open so I want to try to make my shot.

Romantic headcanons about the Scarabia duo with a reader (fem or neutral) who loves to sing and usually sings love songs to her/them respective boyfriend as a sign of her/them devotion and love🩷💕

Your Jamil and Kalim fics have made me gain a deep affection for those two characters and I love when you include Arabs in said fics, it seems beautiful to me. If my order does not convince you, you can discard it but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 🌌🌠🩷💕💐✨❤️Someday I will make some fan arts of your fics :D

💞 — in which they love the sound of your voice.

💞 — kalim al-asim, jamil viper (separately)

💞 — warnings: none, this is pure fluff and romance

💞 — 940 words. i hope i did your request justice!! also, that comment about making fanart made me squeal. i genuinely think that is the best compliment someone can get <333

KALIM AL-ASIM.

🩷 — Listen, the moment you are singing, he is joining you.

🩷 — It reminds him of the festivals in the Scalding Sands, where people sang for everything—pride for their homeland, love for their darlings, the taste of the cuisine—nearly everything was taken and made into a song.

🩷 — But the moment you start singing about love to him, sevens he feels so special. It motivates him to do just about everything. Music is such a perfect love language, and he could just die happily hearing you weave lyrics about romance to him. It makes him feel like your muse.

🩷 — Whenever he is sitting on a divan pillow, staring down at the work he does not want to complete, he glances over to you, carmine eyes all pleading. He just wants you to sing something so he can feel motivated to do his work again.

🩷 — The songs in his homeland are played more classically, with the oud (middle eastern lute) and the tablah (hand drums), and he loves that, but he is more pulled in by experimental sounds.

🩷 — His pure love for music causes him to introduce you to a lot of his favorite artists and he asks if he can play for you while you sing. Overall, it is a match made in heaven.

🩷 — He invites you to the Light Music Club’s meetings and he is constantly trying to get you to join the club. If you join, he will be extremely happy. Cater would post you guys on his social media with some sort of caption like ‘if he wanted to…’ and the comments are filled with single people talking about how they want to lay down in the middle of the highway—

🩷 — Kalim’s favorite thing is when you sing exclusively for him.

🩷 — Sure, he thinks that music should be shared with everyone, but sometimes he just wants to lock away those moments for just the two of you. Nothing is as romantic as him resting at your side, listening to the smooth melodies that would spill from your lips like the morning dew slipping off the leaves of palm trees.

“Can you sing another song?” Kalim asked, his head resting in your lap. It was just the two of you on this balcony of the Scarabia dorm. Your fingers were weaved into his hair and his golden coined headband was discarded off to the side to give you the perfect access to the white tresses. You laughed, smiling down at him as your hand trailed from his hair to his cheek, caressing his pretty and plump brown skin, “I already sang three songs for you, Kalim,” He pouted. “You, my love, are too spoiled,” you said, light-heartedly. His pouting did work since you began to sing another love song, weaving him the songs of romance that he yearned for so much.

JAMIL VIPER.

🩷 — Jamil, like Kalim, has emotional attachments to music. Nostalgia is the easiest way into anyone’s heart, and he was no different.

🩷 — Sometimes when he walked through the halls of Kalim’s estate, he could hear the other servants singing songs to keep them company. It helped them ignore any of the pains of labor and the reality of their servitude. He used to think it was stupid, but now he hums those songs as he cooks alone in the vast kitchen of Scarabia.

🩷 — If you sing for him, he only wants it to be in private.

🩷 — He never really got to have anything for himself, so whenever you are dedicating songs of romance to him, he prefers it to be in a place where it is just you two. He likes it especially when you are undoing the braids in his hair and brushing through the long dark brown strands for him.

🩷 — Soon enough, he catches onto the melodies you sing and they become the tunes he hums while cooking and cleaning. It especially happens when he knows you are not going to be joining him for a meal. Your songs make him feel close to you, even when you are not around.

🩷 — You once caught him sweeping the halls humming one of the romantic songs you sang to him. His head even swayed slightly to the beat, but the moment he saw you, he blushed and tugged his hood down, mumbling something about how he should make you wear anklets so that he could hear you before you catch him like this.

🩷 — He always had a love for music and dancing, but it always reminded him of having to dull his talents for Kalim’s take. 

🩷 — Your singing strengthens that bygone love that he had for his music. It is the one thing that not a single person can take from him and claim he was too lowly to deserve it because you gave it to him willingly. 

🩷 — Jamil is so in love. Your voice is like mango nectar on a hot summer day—sweet and healing.

He always loved it when you brewed him tea, singing whatever song came to your mind. It always made him just want to grab you, which he did. Jamil’s arms slipped around your waist and he sighed, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. He was exhausted after all the work. You stopped singing and patted his head, “Tired?”  He nodded and he let out a few curses in his native language, before kissing your collar, “Keep singing,” he muttered. All he wanted to do was fall asleep to the sound of your voice while he waited for the tea to be finished. You obliged.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I'm thinking about going back to my old Zelda WIPs and continuing writing them. Since Ganondorf is a huge part of them, and you have a PHD in Gerudo, I was hoping you could help me with some tips. How do I avoid orientalism as much as possible while still keeping him morally grey and/or a villain? (Different incarnations are different degrees of morality in my fics).

It's ok if you just forward links from your blog where you already discussed it. I'd just like directions on how to find them, hehe.

Hellooo I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your ask, I wanted to make sure I had good refs for it (and was very busy ;;)

So I do not think I can claim to have a PhD in Gerudo when tumblr users @bloobluebloo and @blackautmedia share this website with me (among others), but I can recommand Bloo's thoughts overall, their blog is a great resource; and Blackautmedia has done an amazing and super thorough breakdown of the Gerudo situation (and TotK) in this Youtube video.

(and of course, Edward Saïd's body of work for a more precise breakdown of Orientalism, where it comes from, why it exists, and the countless ways in which it manifests in culture and geopolitics)

To give my own two cents on the matter, I think there's several things to take into account:

the very framework being proposed by Nintendo is born out of orientalist sensitivities, and so a lot of the very fundamental ideas that led to the gerudos and Ganondorf existing as they do will never be neutral. That doesn't mean we can't do anything with them or that they are inherently corrupted (tho some people think the subject is messy enough to make them unwilling to engage with it in any way, which is fair enough), but any narrative decision being taken will probably carry on that weight, that framework. Some parts (like the very harem-like logic of the one guy many girls --even if it's not how gerudos are interacting within canon, we know where the inspiration came from) are kind of very deeply baked in. We can recontextualize it and make it interesting or human or complicated or just not really deal with it (or break the rules entirely, some people decide they don't want to deal with the one guy many girls situation and more power to them honestly), but there's only so much anyone can do about the framework. There's going to be some authorial intent happening no matter what.

Speaking of authorial intent, I guess my (general tbh) advice is: know what interests you, be sensitive to your own internal motivations, be informed of other people's perspectives, and figure out what you are comfortable with, and why. It's a combination of what drives you and being aware of the choices you're making. You can even disagree with other perspectives of course, but it's about making sure you understand your own reasoning and can stand by it within your own art.

Then I guess my main take is: Ganondorf can be as brutal and as selfish as he wants (as a treat) and that will never erase the fact that he lives in a feudal world where the main neighboring kingdom has arbitrarily decided his people (and by extension himself) is considered lesser than a hylian, and that his only path to being considered good is to accept that reality for himself, and kneel and happily become a vassal with zero resentment towards anything. That is kind of the fundamental Zelda game situation: Ganondorf being dissatisfied at his own status leads to him reaching for the biggest source of power available, at any cost. Then, you can complicate him in ways as extreme as him saying he went on to this quest for the sake of his people and was vilified in extreme ways as punishment for this, or in less extreme ways, by deciding he did throw his entire people under the bus with complete disregard --but that it doesn't change the fundamental injustice that pushed him to pursue this path of domination for his own selfish sake. And then, there's entire worlds of nuance between these two extremes, and many, many ways to sidestep what I just outlined and decide this is an AU and Ganondorf's story is about something else entirely.

Honestly, my biggest suggestion is just: give this dude an internal world. It doesn't have to be a sensitive and tearful one, but just some internal reasoning, a sense of purpose, and weave in some of the qualities we see in the games in which he appears, and you have a guy who can cause a big mess and still be terrifying and still be a person.

And then of course I could start to wax poetry about all the angles I see one could pursue with him, all of his relationship to the gods, to fate, to agency and control, to violence and strife and resistance and madness and humanity and and and --yeah there's a lot to find in that thick red hair of his in my opinion, and it's just about... kind of, being interested in that. It doesn't have to be the main focus of course, and you can just have a Ganondorf who's there to provide conflict and be a big guy who's really into having the fight of his life, but there's always this risk of forgetting why he's angry, what shaped him, and therefore falling into tropes of... I don't know, he's a rapist for no reason just because it felt logical that he would be one 🙃 (not saying it can never ever be a take, but to refuse to give him any room for introspection on why he ever would be one given both his very... "I never showed even a hint of sexual interest towards anyone in canon" + "I grew up among a group of ostracized-yet-fetishized women" circumstances might just be the orientalism speaking unfortunately )

So yee!! Those are my perspective!! I hope it's helpful in any way!!!

[pikawings]

Thank you all for the 100k hits everybody 😘💜💜 80% of it quite genuinly might be APAF but every single one of you who took the time to read the mess I make genuinly means the world to me, now more than ever. 💜

As an extra bit of a thank you, a writing progress update yap

APAF and BW are currently still on hiatus. Brain has not brained and due to outside influences any time i think about it, all motivation vanishes. Not even attempted chapter planning had any success so it's a real struggle at the moment. (Shoutout to that one ass on wattpad earlier this week that was leaving hate comments and tried to claim it as "innocent frustration towards the characters actions and thoughts" and not my writing. I hope the universe gives u the life u deserve) I'm too stubborn to abandon them so even if it takes 10 years. They will stay on hiatus until i have enough pre-written to start posting again. Current goal is 5 arcs (there are 15 arcs in total still remaining) for APAF and BW fully finished (3 chapters) but with 0 combined words written....it may take a while and for that im genuinly sorry to the people who are waiting on an update for those

In better news:

For the first time in 3 months I finally managed to write a whopping 800 words for a new one shot Careful What You Wish For. Shout out to that trash Lilo And Stitch remake for the glorious angst it spawned in my brain. I wont make any promises on when ill post again (as any posting is connected to APAF and BW progress) but once im actually done with it ill color it orange in my wip masterlist. Once its actually posted ill color it in with its corresponding fic length color with a link too, as will all other stories i made on the side

I also have a new wip for DPxMonsterHigh (VISP: Very Important Scaritage Project) in a way I've never seen before (aka my favorite type of wip to make). Let me just say I am beyond proud of the lore i made for this au and i genuinly cant wait to share it. Im still working on making my final pre-writing notes but im also planning a mini comic that spoils a main plot point at the same time so do please look forward to that. I'll be able to share the final panel of the mini comic before the story released but the precursors will need to wait until the posted chapters are at that point (shout out to xen for coping with the severe levels of yap this thing has caused and with the combined effort of karra as well for helping with the hell that is this mini comic)

I mentioned some months ago in a comment on here that i would have Astray done by summer. I have that fic now fully planned out to start writing as well as an accompanying mini comic but i have yet to have any spoons for the actual tippy tappying or arting for it. Its not much of a progress update but know that i am just trying to fix the severe spoon shortage before writing can start

I have tried to work on Let The Wind Carry Your Call as well as The Game Of Family (check out the art i did make in case anybody is interested) but both of those are currently stuck at the part that covers Jason's death and ya gorl does not have the emotional stability to handle that atm. Overall very little progress but still progress nonetheless

The Curse Of Afterlife has been mentally fully plotted but my notes are still incomplete. The ability to cross off a plotpoint/scene is what had been helping as of late so im trying to stick to that structure

Not only did i finish fully plotting and chaptering Phantom Guardian, it now has a yet to be named sequel that is halfway planned out. I want to wait with calling PG1 ready to start writing in case details in PG2 will require retconning the current plot but it is nearing completion and awaiting available spoons

I hope this counts for something so rest assured, when I return to posting, there will be loads of new stuff for you all to enjoy. Again a big thank you to everybody who stuck by me so far and an even bigger thank you to everybody who chooses to come along for the ride during this hiatus of mine 💜💜😘

[sovonight]

hey feel free to ignore this if its a bit too specific or invasive, but how did you keep your motivation for art up after moving fandoms? I'm in a similar position myself where I was known for one thing and I've been finding it hard to pivot whilst keeping my motivation, it sometimes feels a little pointless and like I don't belong if I'm not drawing something specific for people. I admire you a lot and love your current art, i can't explain it but it looks so comforting and confident so I figured you'd give good advice! again feel free to ignore <3

for making art, my motivation usually comes from either myself or people's comments/asks/interactions with me, and whenever i switch fandoms i just have to accept that the latter source is gone and i only have myself now. i let myself make less art than before, focus on figuring out what i really want to see, and keep an eye out for oc memes/ship memes/prompt lists for inspo

for posting art, i lower my expectations. i go "i'm my only audience, i expect no one else to care about this post" so any attention it gets becomes an unexpected bonus. it does still feel pointless a lot of the time and there's a bunch of stuff i make that doesn't get cleaned up and posted online because of it, but i prefer it to not posting at all and just letting all my thoughts fester on my local hard drive (which i already did and disliked, years ago, coincidentally when i was obsessed with xan and baldur's gate the first time)

it also helps me to remember how annoyed i was when my art got too much attention, when people would treat my posts as just content for them to consume and treat me as just a machine that makes content. i also used to get pretty annoyed at people misreading/ignoring the ace aspect of my fics, and now that my writing only gets a handful of notes, i don't get that anymore :')

[grayscale-sparks]

So. The Man in the Mirror has been finished. Charlie Dowd’s entire story, start to end. Eight months of my life, and sixteen years of his.

And if you excuse me for being sappy, I have some people the thank. Consider this the acknowledgements page.

First and foremost, I want to thank the lovely @arthur-lesters-spinal-cord and @samglyph for making art inspired by my fic. You two are incredibly talented individuals and I am honored you drew for The Man in the Mirror.

second, I want to thank @clovercow8228 for your loyal comments, despite the threats against my safety when I hurt Charlie more. Every time I felt like giving up I heard your voice in my head going: “seriously Mr. Sparks?”

and last but by god certainly not least, thanks to you @lordofthesoups. You’ve heard my gratitude plenty already, but it is endless and unable to be held back. You have been my biggest motivator, my biggest supporter, my biggest source of inspiration. I’m honored to call you a friend, and I’m so grateful you left that ridiculously long comment that day. You truly are a wonder to behold. You reminded my why I loved this story, and why it needed to be told. Words can’t express my affection for you, my friend. Thank you.

So, Grayscale. What’s next?

I’m going to work on my art ideas while I recover from this absolute monster of a story, but writing will first and foremost be my media, so here’s some projects in the works

To Love is Divine: post part 40, Kayne needs Charlie’s help in saving Arthur and getting the Blackstone to safety.

Malevolent Fairytale AU: jarthur centered fic, a loose retelling of Sleeping Beauty.

Well Better Than The Alternative: an arkayne fic where Kayne is punished and is cast out as a mortal. He has to learn how to live alongside a musician Arthur and his teenage daughter Faroe

Black Dahlias: part of the aforementioned Spinal Cord’s Bellaverse AU where Arthur is found by Kayne instead of Parker and becomes a cultist

Honorable mentions to Patchwork Cadenza (Bella’s backstory) and the ourthur WWII fic, as well as any drabbles and ideas that come to mind. I’m always thinking of something it seems

Thank you, malevolent fandom, from the bottom of my heart. You have truly made a home for The Man in the Mirror 💛

with love,

Grayscale Sparks ✨

[ivysangel]

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.