#also has some shiny gold paint

[creativeefforts]

Acrylic on canvas, 80x60cm

[onlyhereforghost]

The ending of the Lore…

So parts of this fandom seem to have been up in arms recently over some comments made by Tobias in the NME interview, and I… have thoughts.

For some fans, the Lore of the band seems to be all important, and I’ve seen comments like “if he takes that away I won’t be a fan anymore” or “Why is he ruining this for us?” or “He CAN’T take away the Lore!”

Let me tell you something.

Politely.

STOP.

Ghost is not OUR (meaning the fans) project. It is Tobias’ project. It is HIS band, HIS vision. Nobody else’s. We don’t get to decide what he does with his project anymore than anyone else gets to decide what to do with your body. His project, his rules.

I want you to stop and think about how much stress and pressure he is under right at this moment. He is less than a month away from the launch of not only a new album, but a massive world tour. Both of which he is solely responsible for. He is the boss, he has to make sure all his i’s are dotted and all his t’s are crossed. In multiple languages.

He’s also having to do heavy promotion for both to ensure their success. Multiple interviews, photoshoots, meetings with the label, rehearsals, wrangling ghouls and Ghoulettes, costuming, meetings with tour management, probably working out kinks with venues, vendors, merch, and everything else that goes along with a project this size. As well as being a husband and a father. Try taking all that on for yourself.

Remember also that Ghost didn’t start with Lore. Opus Eponymous? Nothing. No story. Infestisumam? We had Papaganda. That was it. Not much else. Terzo wasn’t even featured in the skits with Imperator in the lead up to Meliora.

And let’s not forget, these pieces of Lore some sections of the fanbase are so desperately clinging on to? It’s PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL. It was a fun, kitschy way to promote Prequelle. It let us know about upcoming tours. Told us 7 Inches of Satanic Panic was being released. Showed us Nihil’s shiny gold record.

And with RHRN, Tobias effectively wound up that era. He L et us know we are getting a new Papa, and led us by the hand into the new era of Perpetua.

If he chooses not to continue with the storytelling, all the old stuff will still be there. They aren’t going to scrub clean the YouTube channel or remove the movie from circulation. It will be there for us, whenever we want to return to it. And if that isn’t enough, this is a wildly talented fan base. There will always be people drawing, painting, cosplaying, acting, writing. It will always be there. Make your own lore if you want to! Nothing is stopping you!

But if you choose to leave the fandom because Tobias chooses not to make anymore chapters, then the loss will be yours. Because this band is brilliant. With or without the storytelling. You just have to believe it.

[sulkingheichou012]

Into the Dungeon with You

Pairing: Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: RomCom, Action, Smut

Warning: Description of violence and profanity.

Summary: Jinwoo frowned as a new system notification appeared before him.

[Special Reward Successfully Claimed.]

Author's note: I'm happy that some of you are enjoying my silly work! Yes, if you're asking to be tagged—sure! 😊

Chapter 17

Y/N stood on the balcony, the early dawn breeze tugging gently at her hair. Beside her, Jinwoo was still half-asleep, one arm lazily draped around her waist, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder. But she didn’t mind. She was too busy staring at her hand.

The sun was rising slowly, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. And when the light hit the stone on her finger— It shimmered. Not just pretty, but alive, as if it was holding a little piece of the sun itself.

Y/N turned her hand, watching it glow. Her chest felt strangely warm, like something quietly settled into place.

“…You okay?” Jinwoo murmured into her ear; his voice still rough from sleep.

Y/N smiled softly, still staring at the ring. “Yeah. It’s just… when I look at this, I feel safe. Like I belong somewhere. Like I’m… loved.”

Jinwoo squeezed her waist, tugging her closer, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are,” he whispered.

She blushed furiously but didn’t look away from the ring. It sparkled again. “…Also, it’s really shiny. I might blind someone if I flex hard enough.”

Jinwoo chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder again. “I’ll make sure they live.”

By the time they got back home, Y/N was still admiring the way the sunlight caught on her ring. She flexed it in front of random shiny things. The toaster. The window. Even Igris’ chest plate when he emerged briefly from the shadows to deliver coffee.

“I am powerful,” she whispered dramatically.

Jinwoo was too amused to stop her. But as soon as they stepped through the front door—

“THERE SHE IS!!” A shriek erupted from the living room. Y/N froze.

Jinah and Mrs. Sung appeared like they’d rappelled down from the ceiling. SWAT-mode: Activated. Y/N barely managed to squeak before they closed in.

“Hand,” Jinah demanded. Y/N instinctively held it up. Both of them gasped in unison like they were evaluating the crown jewels.

“Oh-hoh-hoh,” Mrs. Sung murmured, already dialing her phone. “The dress designer is getting a call right now,” Jinah said, eyes gleaming. “I’ll handle the venue,” Mrs. Sung nodded. “Florist is mine!” “Catering!” “GUEST LIST—”

Y/N stood there, completely blindsided. “Wait—wait!! We just got engaged! We haven’t even picked a date! Or—or—” “You snooze, you lose!” Jinah shouted. “Fast weddings are the trend now!” Mrs. Sung agreed.

Y/N gave Jinwoo a look of pure betrayal, who was… Just watching them with his arms crossed, clearly entertained. “Help me!” she mouthed at him.

He raised his mug in salute. “Good luck.”

Y/N groaned dramatically as Jinah and Mrs. Sung dragged her toward the kitchen table already covered in wedding magazines and fabric swatches.

The grand conference room of the Korean Hunter Association was filled to capacity. Not just with Korea’s strongest hunters, but with representatives and guild leaders from around the world. Some sat in person, others attending through massive holographic screens surrounding the room.

It was a historic event. The final debriefing after the largest and most terrifying threat the world had ever known. The Primordial Hunger—a cataclysm that nearly consumed existence itself—had been defeated.

And standing before them was the man who had made that possible. Sung Jinwoo. The Shadow Monarch. And beside him… Y/N. A mystery to many, but someone whose role was undeniable.

Chairman Go Gunhee cleared his throat to begin. But he did not speak. He gestured to Jinwoo instead.

Jinwoo stepped forward. He didn’t need notes. His voice carried across the entire room, steady and sure.

“The Primordial Hunger has been eliminated.”

“Its destruction halted the collapse of dimensional barriers. The rifts that threatened to devour our world have sealed. The balance between realms has been restored.”

He paused, letting his words resonate through the chamber.

“For now… there are no further threats.”

His gaze swept over the hunters gathered.

“Many of you felt the change. The unnatural silence that followed the chaos. You have asked whether this peace is genuine. I am here to tell you… it is.”

His tone softened, but his words remained resolute.

“For the first time in years, we are not standing at the edge of extinction. No Monarchs remain. No Rulers are moving behind the scenes. There is no enemy in hiding. And if anything changes… I’ll be the first to know.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if weighing something unseen.

“The sacrifices made… were not in vain.”

Jinwoo’s eyes shifted to Y/N briefly before continuing.

“Peace has returned. But peace, as I have learned, is not simply the absence of war. It’s the presence of something worth protecting. Family. Friends. Loved ones. This world.”

Another breath. A heavier pause.

“As hunters, we fight. We bleed. And sometimes we fall. But we do it to protect what matters.”

Jinwoo lifted his head fully now, his presence filling the room.

“And now… it’s time we live for it.”

There was silence at first. Then Go Gunhee stood. And he began to clap.

One by one, everyone in the room rose to their feet. Applause swelled from a ripple into a wave. A standing ovation that spanned countries and continents. Even the hunters online could be seen applauding on the holographic screens, some even saluting.

Y/N sat still. The thunder of applause washing over her like ocean waves. But her mind was somewhere else entirely.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She remembered the manhwa so clearly. Jinwoo had struggled for years alone. He had sacrificed everything—his humanity, his future—for the sake of victory. And he had found peace, yes… but only after losing so much.

Now he stood tall, smiling, surrounded by people who respected him and by shadows who adored him. He wasn’t alone. And she was here. By his side.

Her fingers brushed over the ring Jinwoo had placed there. Warm. Solid. Steady. A promise that wasn’t in the original story.

Maybe this isn’t how it was supposed to be, she thought. But she turned to look at him anyway. And he was already smiling at her. As if to say: This is how it should be.

She smiled back. Even if she didn’t quite believe it yet… She wanted to.

As the room calmed, hunters slowly gathered their things. Many came forward to shake Jinwoo’s hand. Baek Yoonho clapped him on the back with his usual grin. Choi Jongin nodded respectfully, though his eyes lingered curiously on Y/N. Even Cha Hae In gave a polite bow.

“Thank you,” one of the international guild masters said. “Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

Another chuckled. “You two are heroes.” He glanced at Y/N. “You’ve both earned your peace.”

Jinwoo gave a small, polite smile. Then— “Thank you,” he said. “…We’ll be celebrating soon.” He paused. “I’m getting married.”

The room stilled for one stunned beat. Y/N’ head whipped toward him so fast it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap. “WHAT?” Her voice cracked in disbelief.

Jinwoo blinked at her, completely calm. “You said yes, didn’t you?” He lifted his hand, showing the matching ring on his finger. “Seems clear to me.”

Baek Yoonho barked out a laugh so loud it echoed. Choi Jongin smirked faintly, arms crossed. Even Chairman Go Gunhee smiled, rubbing his temple like a tired dad witnessing his kids’ antics.

Another wave of applause erupted—this one lighter, warmer, and mixed with cheers and laughter.

As they exited the room, Y/N noticed Cha Hae In and Choi Jongin standing together. For a second, she panicked. Weren’t they supposed to be endgame?! She glanced at Jinwoo. Was she stealing someone else’s future?!

But Cha Hae In was calm. And Choi Jongin… Well, he was watching Jinwoo with professional curiosity, not personal jealousy.

Y/N shook it off. She smiled sweetly. And subtly held up her hand. The ring caught the light. Flex.

Cha Hae In noticed. She tilted her head, amused. “A good choice, You are lucky.” she said softly. Y/N nearly tripped over her own feet.

No broken heart? No jealousy? Just a sisterly approval?

After the conference and the sudden wedding announcement chaos, Jinwoo gets approached by one of the high-ranking officials from the Hunter Bureau or the Rulers’ envoy.

Jinwoo doesn’t know if this portal is another threat. He tells himself they’ll investigate it together, but deep down…

Y/N notices him getting quieter and more serious as they prepare to leave. She thinks it’s him being careful—she doesn’t realize it’s him being torn apart inside. He’s always been in control, but this? This makes him anxious. He never gets anxious.

They stood in front of it.

An arch of weathered stone, half-sunken into the forest clearing, humming softly with ancient magic. Pale, crystalline blue light swirled inside its frame—calm. Stable. Peaceful in a way most portals never were.

It wasn’t a gate to danger. It wasn’t a dungeon. They both knew it.

This was a door. Her door.

Y/N exhaled slowly, her hand tightening around Jinwoo’s. Neither spoke. There wasn’t a need. The knowledge settled between them like gravity.

This was her way home.

He couldn’t speak. His throat was tight, his heartbeat loud in his ears. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the portal as it shimmered like glass, like water… like a goodbye.

And then— He moved.

Quietly, Jinwoo stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Not tightly. Not possessively.

But his hands trembled when they rested against her waist. And his forehead lowered to her shoulder, hiding the war in his eyes.

Y/N froze at first, then gently laid her hands over his. She could feel the tension running through him like a current.

Jinwoo didn’t trust his voice. If he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from begging.

She could hear him breathing, slow and uneven against her neck. Feel his grip, warm and grounding and terrified all at once.

The portal in front of them shimmered again, ripples of light flickering softly in invitation. It was ready.

But was she?

Y/N glanced down at his hands holding her, then at the ring on her finger—glinting faintly in the portal’s light. It wasn’t just an object. It was a promise.

Y/N sighed. Then… she laughed. Soft at first, but it grew louder, spilling out of her like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Jinwoo tensed behind her. “What?” She reached up and patted his arm—more like a playful smack. “You idiot,” she said, voice warm and teasing. “You really thought I’d leave you?”

He blinked, stunned by her tone. She half-turned in his arms to look at him properly, grinning up at him despite the shimmer in her eyes. “I already told you,” she said. “You’re my home now.” She tapped her ring against his chest for emphasis. “There’s no one waiting for me on the other side of that portal,” she went on, her voice gentler now. “No family. No adventure better than this. Nothing I want more than what I have right here.”

Jinwoo’s breath hitched as her words sank in, steady and sure, like an anchor pulling him back from the edge. For a moment, his usual calm shattered. A single tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it.

He blinked, surprised at himself, and quickly looked away, as if embarrassed to have let it show. But it was too late. The weight he’d carried for so long—the fear that she would leave, that she would disappear from his life—unraveled in an instant. Ever since he realized he’d fallen for her, that quiet fear had lived in the back of his mind, gnawing at him in every silent moment.

And now? She’d cut through it like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

Without thinking, his hand reached for hers, fingers threading through like it was the most natural thing in the world. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

“…Thank you,�� he murmured, voice rougher than he expected. His dark eyes softened, the unreadable mask slipping just enough for her to catch the rarest thing—his heart wide open. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

He smiled then. Not the polite, distant curve of his lips everyone else knew. This one was different—bright, unguarded. Like a golden retriever that had just been told they were a good boy after waiting forever to hear it.

And for once, Jinwoo didn’t care that he looked like a fool. Not if it was for her.

Together, hand in hand, they turned away from the portal. No second glances. No hesitation.

But then—

A ripple of energy made the ground hum beneath their feet. Jinwoo instinctively shifted, shielding her, shadows rising at his feet as they both turned sharply back to the arch.

From the blue light of the portal, a figure stepped through. Clad in muted silver and white, their presence was quiet but undeniable. Not threatening, but heavy with something ancient. Their face was calm—too calm, like they had seen too many futures to be surprised anymore.

Y/N gripped Jinwoo’s arm. “Friend or foe?” “Neither,” the figure said, their voice deep but kind. “Only a witness.”

They regarded Jinwoo first, then Y/N. “You both chose well.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” “A remnant of balance,” they replied simply. “My time here is brief.”

They gestured toward the portal, which flickered softly behind them. “You were right not to cross. That world has already moved on. Your thread belongs here now.” Y/N squeezed Jinwoo’s hand, steady.

But then the figure’s expression darkened slightly. “You’ve brought peace to this world… but do not mistake peace for safety.” Their gaze fixed on Jinwoo. “Even in the stillness, the future stirs. You cannot predict what lies beyond the veil of time.”

Jinwoo met their stare without flinching. “Then I’ll protect this world. No matter what comes.”

A faint smile crossed the stranger’s face. “I know.”

The figure turned back toward the portal. It pulsed once with light—then dimmed completely. The portal stone cracked down its middle, splitting cleanly as if its purpose was finished.

The figure vanished with it. Gone. No trace.

Y/N let out a shaky breath. “Okay, that was intense.” Jinwoo didn’t say anything at first. He just pulled her close again, holding her for a long, silent moment.

Then— “We’re getting married,” Jinwoo said suddenly, voice firm. Y/N blinked. “I mean… yes?” “No waiting,” he added. “No more portals. No more interruptions.”

Y/N laughed. “Deal.”

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting molten gold across the obsidian towers of the Shadow Castle. Everything gleamed, every corner alive with warm light and laughter. It was a day no one ever imagined would come. Not Jinwoo. Not Y/N. And certainly not the army of shadows who had spent weeks preparing for it like it was a royal coronation.

In a way, it was.

Y/N stood at the grand entrance, a soft breeze teasing her veil as she tightened her grip on her bouquet. Her gown shimmered like woven starlight, delicate embroidery reminiscent of shadow wisps curling along the hem. At her back, her scythe leaned casually against the wall, because she absolutely insisted on a candid with it later.

“Ready?” Jinwoo’s voice was warm at her ear. She turned, catching his smile—the rare, one he only ever showed her. He looked devastatingly handsome in a black-on-black suit, subtly lined with silver thread. His tie? Crooked. She fixed it with a smirk, tugging him down by the lapels. His ears went pink.

Their friends and comrades filled the massive courtyard. Cha Hae-In wiped a stray tear, pretending she wasn’t crying as she stood beside Jinah, who was a blubbering mess already. Jinwoo’s mother held Jinah’s hand, her own eyes bright with tears as she watched her son standing proud, waiting for his bride.

And the shadows? Oh, the shadows were thrilled. Igris stood like a stoic knight… except his usually rigid posture was now just a little too puffed up with pride. Beru buzzed in place, making a chittering sound like he was holding in a scream. Even Iron polished his helmet to a mirror shine.

A band of orc shadows played music. Badly. But no one cared.

As Y/N walked down the aisle, her gaze locked with Jinwoo’s, and everything else melted away. His hand found hers when she reached him, his fingers trembling the slightest bit. When he said his vows, his voice was steady—but there was that hitch, that one breath that caught when he said, “You’re my world now.”

And when the priest declared them husband and wife?

Jinwoo kissed her like he couldn’t believe this was real. Like he was afraid she’d vanish if he let go.

Chaos.

Glorious, ridiculous chaos.

Jinah launched herself after the bouquet, tackling Hae-In like a linebacker. She popped up with it in her hands, cheering like she’d won the Hunter Association Lottery. Before anyone could stop him, Jinho scrambled under Y/N’ gown during the garter toss (with permission, obviously), and came out with the stocking in hand, beaming. He made direct eye contact with Jinah as he slipped it onto her leg. She turned red.

Everyone screamed.

Selfies were taken everywhere. The giants huddled awkwardly behind Y/N and Jinwoo for one, causing the balcony to creak dangerously. Y/N’ favorite photo? A completely candid shot of her leaning on her scythe in her wedding dress, sunglasses on, with Beru photobombing in the background, flashing peace signs with his claw-hands.

The shadows outdid themselves on the decorations—black roses, floating candles, and obsidian tables covered in elegant food spreads. There was even a chocolate fountain. Beru dipped a strawberry in it, offered it to Jinwoo, and Jinwoo (to everyone’s horror and delight) actually ate it. The crowd lost their minds.

Later, as the sun set in a blaze of red and gold, Jinwoo and Y/N stood on their balcony, away from the noise.

She leaned into him, their fingers tangled loosely. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his expression soft, that warmth slipping through again as if it was the most natural thing in the world now.

“We did it,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Yeah. We did.”

Below them, the courtyard still echoed with laughter and celebration. Shadows danced clumsily in pairs; Jinah and Jinho were now inseparable; his mom had somehow convinced Igris to teach her sword stances.

But up here, it was just them.

He turned her gently, arms sliding around her waist. “Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever leave me,” he said quietly, his forehead resting against hers.

She grinned. “You’re stuck with me, dummy.”

His answering laugh was low, warm. “Good.”

And as the sky burned with colors, Jinwoo kissed his wife again, while their world celebrated below.

The world faded away the moment the castle gates closed behind them.

No armies. No Guild business. No ancient Monarch wars to prepare for.

Just Jinwoo and Y/N.

He had carried her over the threshold—because of course he had—ignoring her playful swats and laughter. They’d arrived at a secluded villa Jinwoo had personally reconstructed in his Shadow Domain. It was something out of a dream. Warm sunlight filtered through sheer curtains. The walls were carved from smooth obsidian, lined with silvery etchings that shimmered faintly when touched. A private garden surrounded them, its flowers blooming in colors impossible anywhere else.

And the silence… was peaceful.

“I thought we’d just… rest here,” Jinwoo murmured as he set her down gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “No one can bother us.”

Y/N smiled, still holding his hand like she might float away if she let go. “You’re sure Beru won’t show up offering strawberries?”

Jinwoo’s grin was crooked. “I left him strict orders. He’s patrolling the castle walls for the next week.”

They both laughed, the sound soft and easy. It was still new—this comfort between them—but it was theirs. She watched him as he moved around the villa, taking his jacket off, rolling his sleeves up, undoing his tie. All casual, but something about him was still so effortlessly magnetic.

They ended up on the couch first. Just sitting. Talking. Her feet tucked under her as he leaned into the cushions, his hand never straying far from hers. He told her stories of his mom and Jinah when they were younger. She told him about her world—her old world—and all the things she missed. They laughed. A lot.

And when the sky turned pink, they found themselves in the garden. He had set up lanterns, their lights glowing like tiny stars. They ate dinner under them, Y/N having somehow learned to cook one decent dish. Just one. Jinwoo teased her, but ate every bite.

Afterward, they danced.

Slow, unpracticed, clumsy at first. But he held her close, his hands warm on her waist, his forehead pressed to hers as if he needed to feel her there. She laughed quietly when he stepped on her toes. He just pulled her closer and muttered, “Sorry,” against her hair.

It was like that all night. Quiet, sweet moments strung together like pearls.

By the time they were back inside, standing by the huge window watching stars spill across the sky, Jinwoo’s arms were wrapped around her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and for a long time, they said nothing.

“You’re my home now,” he whispered eventually.

Y/N turned in his arms, and whatever she said next was lost in the kiss they shared. Slow, tender, and full of everything they couldn’t say with words.

The rest of the night was theirs.

The stars outside the window shimmered, mirrored faintly in the reflection of the obsidian walls. But Jinwoo wasn’t looking at the stars.

He was looking at her.

Y/N stood at the center of their room, bathed in moonlight, her veil set aside hours ago, her dress replaced with something softer, simpler. Something that was just for him. But to him, she would have been beautiful in anything. Or nothing. He couldn’t decide which stole his breath more—her laughter earlier in the garden or the quiet way she was looking at him now.

Like he was the only thing in her world.

His steps were slow as he crossed the room. Deliberate. But his hands were gentle when he touched her, as if she was made of light. Fingers brushed her cheek, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled at him, a small, knowing curve of her lips, and leaned into his palm.

"You're staring," she whispered, her voice soft, playful.

"I’m memorizing," Jinwoo murmured back. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, slow and reverent. "Every time I think I’ve got you all figured out… you do something that makes me fall harder."

Her laugh was quiet, but her cheeks flushed warm. She closed the distance between them with a step, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers fisting lightly in his shirt.

"Good," she whispered. "I plan to keep surprising you."

He bent down then, his forehead resting against hers. For a moment, they just breathed each other in. His hands found her waist, then her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The warmth of her body, the soft sigh she gave when he touched her—it was intoxicating.

Their lips met softly at first. A gentle press. Familiar, sweet. But it didn’t stay that way.

Jinwoo deepened the kiss, his hands moving up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing over the apples of her cheeks as if he wanted to commit every detail of her to memory. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to frame his jaw. Their kisses became slower, but heavier, each one saying what words couldn’t.

"I love you," she breathed against his mouth.

His breath shuddered out of him as he whispered it back, his voice rough, "I love you more."

He didn’t give her time to argue. He kissed her again, slow and thorough, his lips dragging over hers like he had all the time in the world. And he did. This was their time. For once, there was no war waiting for them. No portals. No shadows in the dark.

Only them.

When his hands found the hem of her robe, he paused, his dark eyes searching hers for permission. She answered with a nod, her hands guiding his. She was warm under his fingers, softer than he ever imagined someone like him deserved. But she was here. She chose him.

And he intended to worship every inch of her.

They moved together toward the bed, stumbling a little as they laughed into each other’s mouths. His hands never left her skin, slow and reverent, memorizing the shape of her hips, the delicate curve of her spine. Her fingers were in his hair, tangling as she pulled him closer.

They lay down tangled in sheets and shadows. His touch was patient. His hands wondering around her body, finding a sensitive spot that made her arch forward and whine.

“You’re sensitive.” Jinwoo mumbled against her neck, trailing kisses down to her collar bone. His mouth moving down, his tongue licking the space between her breasts. “Only for me.”

He brought his large hands to her breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of her soft moans.

“Jinwoo.” Y/N whispered. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair without thinking.

He chuckled and brought his lips to her nipple, his dark hair, tousled and soft, brushed her bare skin with every movement.

He stilled for just a second, and then sighed against her skin, the sound so content and low it made her chest ache.

“I love your hair,” she whispered between moans, running her fingers through it again, slow and gentle. She let her nails graze lightly over his scalp, and Jinwoo’s entire body shivered, just faintly. “It’s so soft.”

“You do?” he murmured, lips brushing over the hollow of her throat.

“Mm, it calms you,” she said with a small smile. “And I like when you melt.”

He chuckled softly, the vibration of it sinking into her skin. “I don’t melt.”

“You do,” she insisted, dragging her nails lightly again. He exhaled a deep, shaky breath, pressing a kiss over her heart.

Jinwoo looked at her with mixture or awe and hunger – a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to her entrance, smiling when he felt how wet she was.

“How about I make you melt this time?”

Y/N nodded “Mmm’, yes please. I need you, Jinwoo.” She whined feeling him circle her entrance.

Jinwoo didn’t make her wait as he plugged his fingers in. Her back arched as she gasped, spreading her legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against her walls.

Still Y/N wanted more.

“Please, Jinwoo.” She whimpered.

Her body whined when Jinwoo stopped and pulled his fingers out.

“What is it, my wife? Tell me what you want.” his voice purred, he brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over her sweetness.

“You,” Her lip quivered as she shuddered from the cool air of the room. “Please, Jinwoo.” As her hands held him.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his pants, stroking lightly. She swallowed at the sight wondering how she could ever take them.

Jinwoo lined his tip against her entrance, soaking himself in her juices and teasing her a little.

“Are you ready, my wife? I will take it slow so you will feel everything.” He whispered a for the first time tonight she heard his voice start to shake.

Y/N bit her lip as she nodded. “Yes, I’m all yours.”

Jinwoo slowly slid himself in as she let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside her both let out a gasp; they both waited so long for this moment. Y/N wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck while she got used to the feeling of all inside.

He waited for her to nod and give him the signal to continue. He planted a kiss on her cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. Y/N spread her legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. She grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

He slowly begins with a slow and steady thrusts. She feels hot around him, her walls sliding up and down his shaft, her canal moist and inviting as he goes back and forth. Her walls are tight around him, making Jinwoo grunt lowly as he places kisses on whatever part of her body he can reach. He drives his cock into her, making her breath hitch, every now and then, her body meeting his thrust, trying to make him go faster.

“Just like that, Y/N”. Jinwoo kept his eyes on Y/N as he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uhhh – “ Y/N grunts, her eyes squeezed tightly, her legs are shaky,

He thrusted again, harder and faster as he felt her pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace.

“Ohh, Jinwoo!” Y/N moaned, making him shiver.

“You like that, my wife?” Jinwoo asks, thrusting in a little harder, his cock coming almost completely out of her and then ramming back inside her.

“YES –!” Y/N hisses sharply. She looked at Jinwoo, meeting his penetrating eyes. ‘Harder” eyes beg, and he goes harder. “Ohh, Fu – “, she cries, out in a yell, eyes shutting again, her legs trying their hardest not to close.

“How’s that feel, my wife?” Jinwoo asked again, when his hand on her neck moves to her breast, cupping it, his palm grinding against her nipple.

She grasped and scratched at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through her while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

They’re caught somewhere between a purr and a growl, both soft and hungry, needy.

“Hold on.” His voice was quiet whimper while Y/N held him.

Hearing him whimper always sent her feral but she did her best to keep still while Jinwoo pounded into her tight cunt. Her back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm.

“You feel so good. I love you, Y/N” Jinwoo whispered in her ears while panting, sucking the lobe into his hot mouth. Y/N walls tighten around Jinwoo as he does this and he pushes his hips a little harder. He suck on her ear, his lips and teeth pulling on it, making her moan loudly. He grunt loudly in her ear, “Arrghhh, Y/N” sound filing her ear. He moves one of his hand on top of her, lacing their fingers together, He can feel her shallow breaths, hear he pants. Her hips rolling back against him, his rock pushing in and out, making her croon.

Y/N knew he was close, and she wrapped her legs around him not letting him go.

“I’m, I’m – so close,” she whispers, voice dripping with arousal.

Jinwoo grins against her ear, “I know,” he rasps, pushing harder. He moves into her slowly, but hard, making her grunt and gasp at the same time.

Y/N’s heart is racing, her body on the edge, being thrust a little more each time. “Jinwoo!” she moans loudly, his name coming out with a deep, throaty groan. “Jinwoo,” she whimpers, breathy.

“I’m right here, my love,” Jinwoo tells her, grunting into her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. His pace picks up again, his cock penetrating her.

“Come for me, my wife.” Jinwoo whisper in her ear, his words barely being understood through his deep grunts.

“Yes” Y/N whimpers.

“My wife,” he says again, tasting it like something forbidden and precious at the same time.

Every time he calls her that, her breath hitches, and he feels her heart race beneath his touch. It makes him want more. Makes him need more. Because he’s waited—waited so long, fought through worlds, sacrificed everything—and in the end, she chose him. She stayed.

Jinwoo’s close, his hips working faster and faster, their bodies molding together against the bed.

“Mmmmm – “ Y/N hums again from her throat. She can feel the rush of blood in her body, the scorching heat flowing through her. She hears Jinwoo’s loud grunts in her ear, feels him jerking quickly, and then there’s a rush of hot fluids pushing into her, the delicious feeling throwing her right over the edge. “Jinwoo,” is the last word to come out from her mouth before she’s spiraling, falling into a blissful place of ecstasy.

“My wife,” he says again, voice rough against her skin. “Mine.”

Jinwoo’s arms held her tightly to him as she were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of their bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed.

“I love you, Y/N” his voice was a husky whisper as he pressed a soft yet deep kiss against her lips.

Her kisses were soft. They spoke quietly between kisses—sometimes teasing, sometimes serious. Promises made. Futures dreamed. It was messy and tender, clumsy and perfect.

He traced the line of her collarbone with his lips. She pressed her hand over his heart, feeling it race under her palm. They were both breathing hard but smiling. Always smiling.

Afterward, they stayed wrapped up in each other, her head on his chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her shoulder.

"You’re shaking," she teased softly.

He huffed a laugh. "I’m trying not to pass out."

Y/N laughed too, pressing a kiss over his heart. "We’ve fought dragons and Monarchs. But this is what knocks you out?"

Jinwoo smiled, sleepy but happy. "You’re a different kind of dangerous."

She rolled her eyes but snuggled closer. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"It was."

And they drifted to sleep like that, tangled together, their breathing slow and steady. Safe. Home.

Y/N had always suspected Jinwoo had an unfair advantage.

He was a Monarch. The Shadow Monarch. He could fight for days without rest, command legions with a thought, and tear through entire battlefields without so much as breaking a sweat.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared her for what that meant on their wedding night.

It had started gentle, slow and sweet. Reverent. Worshipful.

But now, hours later, she was pretty sure her legs no longer worked properly.

She lay sprawled across their bed, the sheets twisted, her hair an absolute mess, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Jinwoo hovered over her, dark hair falling in his eyes, his smile that rare, devastatingly soft one he reserved only for her.

And he was still looking at her like he was starving.

“Jinwoo,” she managed, her voice hoarse and breathless, “I… I think I need a break.”

He tilted his head at her, amused. “A break?” His fingers traced a lazy path along her collarbone, down to the curve of her waist. “I thought you said you could handle anything.”

“I was… clearly overestimating myself,” she groaned, flopping her arm over her face. “I’m not built like you, okay? You have a cheat code. You can regenerate stamina like a machine.”

He chuckled. A deep, low sound that made her toes curl, even now. “That’s true,” he agreed shamelessly. “But you don’t hear me complaining.”

Y/N cracked one eye open to glare at him. “Complaining?! Because you’re not the one who’s going to die from this.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, then her temple, then the shell of her ear. “I’m taking it easy on you.”

“Taking easy???! You are not,” she huffed, but the way her body shivered under his lips betrayed her.

“Hmm.” He nipped gently at her earlobe, and she bit her lip hard to keep from making a sound. “Then maybe I should slow down.”

Her heart jumped into her throat as he kissed his way down the column of her throat, his hand sliding down her hip again, fingers warm and possessive. She squirmed, but there was no escaping his hands. Not that she really wanted to.

“I… I need water,” she tried again, weakly.

His grin was wicked this time. “I’ll get you water after this round.”

“Jinwoo—!”

But he was already moving, catching her wrist and bringing her hand to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to her palm, his eyes dark and full of a heat that made her stomach flip. "You’re glowing," he murmured, tracing her wrist with his thumb. “I could look at you forever.”

“You are looking,” she gasped as he leaned back over her, their noses brushing. “Nonstop. For hours.”

“And I’m not even close to done,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers in a maddening tease. “You’re my wife now. I have the rest of forever.”

Y/N groaned again, sinking into the sheets as he kissed her thoroughly, slow and deep, stealing the last of her energy. She dragged her nails over his shoulder weakly. “You’re relentless.”

“You love it,” he said with a grin against her mouth.

“I might not survive it,” she breathed.

He chuckled again, low and warm. “You’re stronger than you think.”

She didn’t answer this time—mostly because she was too busy kissing him back, even if her body felt like jelly and her legs were about to mutiny. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. He touched her like she was something precious, even when his control frayed. Every kiss, every whispered promise made her fall harder.

And even as she gasped his name again, even as she clung to him and lost count of how many times he stole her breath, one thing was very, very clear.

“Jinwoo… Wait – Noooo! Let me – ”

....

“JINWOO! YEEEESSSS!!”

Jinwoo could outlast anything.

<< Chapter 16 | Chapter 18 >>

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[onlyhereforthestories]

Most Wonderful Time Of The Year (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Day 4! Anyone else think that decorating the tree is one of the best parts of the festive holiday?

As the holiday season approached Leah got more and more excited. You knew she loved the holiday but being as last year you had only been officially dating for about 3 months, she had dampened it down a little as to not overwhelm you. This year though you could tell she was fully comfortable sharing her excitement with you, something you were more than happy with.

Leah had insisted that this Christmas, you’d be decorating the tree together in her apartment. Last year you had left her house one evening and came back the next night to find her house transformed into a winter wonderland of sorts. This year however, she was going to make sure you were a part of her plans, being as you were a lot more involved with each other.

You could tell she’d been looking forward to it all week, she’d already picked up the perfect tree which has spent the last day dropping out. She had also spent an afternoon at the garden centre, bringing home boxes filled with ornaments, lights, and ribbons stating that as this was your first joint tree it had to be new things that you both would like.

Tonight, she’d even set up a holiday playlist so that while you decorated, the living room would be filled with soft, nostalgic carols. She pulled out a big box filled with ornaments, each one carefully wrapped in tissue paper. “I went a bit overboard,” she admitted, laughing as she took out a few of the shiny baubles. “I just couldn’t pick!”

“You went all out, huh?” you teased, grinning as she unwrapped a glittery red ornament and held it up for inspection. She rolled her eyes at you, a playful smile tugging at her lips, and handed you a few decorations to start with.

“Christmas isn’t for half assing a job, not that I ever do that anyway love. But this is like the best holiday of the year, you have to do it proper.” You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face at the excitement coming from the Lioness captain. Only offering her a slight hmmm of semi agreement, before you took the box of ornaments off of her.

As you both worked, Leah passed you ribbons, tinsel and ornaments, her eyes lighting up whenever you hung one up. Some of the decorations were traditional, tiny wooden reindeer, little stars, and glass bulbuls in classic red and gold. But Leah had also picked out a few quirky ones: a mini soccer ball, a tiny camera, and a little book with “Our Adventures” scribbled across it. You couldn’t help but laugh as she explained each one, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she shared the stories behind each choice.

“We obviously have to have a football one, its literally the only reason we are here now…”

“If I had a pound for every photo you took of me or a pretty view then id be richer than a men’s player…” You did mention her and a pretty view are one and the same which got your favourite pink cheeks and scoff reaction from her.

“This feels like the beginning of our adventures, and I saw that one and thought is was a fitting first Christmas together properly ornament. Much better than the cheesy actual ones act least.”

After a while, you noticed a small, lumpy bundle at the bottom of the box. Unwrapping it, you found an old, handmade ornament. It was a little star painted in Leah’s favourite colours and was a bit worn around the edges. “What’s this one?” you asked, holding it up.

Leah looked at it and smiled, a little sheepish. “I made it when I was a kid. It’s terrible, isn’t it?” She laughed, looking a bit embarrassed, but you could see the fondness in her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” you replied, giving her a warm smile as you carefully hung it in a prime spot near the top of the tree where everyone could see it with just a glance. She watched, her face softening as she took your hand and squeezed it gently.

After an hour or so, the tree was nearly complete, draped in lights and covered in the mix of classic and quirky ornaments Leah had chosen. You both stood back, admiring your work as she reached over to switch on the lights. “This is always the best part, the first light up. It’s just magic.” The tree glowed softly, casting the room in a warm, magical light. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

Leah wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at the finished tree. “It’s perfect,” she murmured, her voice warm in your ear. You leaned back into her, feeling her arms tighten around you in a quiet, contented hug.

She glanced over at the last item on the table, a silver star meant for the top of the tree. With a grin, she picked it up and handed it to you. “You want to do the honours?”

You nodded, feeling a spark of excitement as she lifted you up slightly, helping you reach the top of the tree. Carefully, you placed the star on the branch that stuck out at the top, and she set you back down, pulling you close once again as you both admired the final touch.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispered, kissing your forehead softly. Her hand stayed at the small of your back, grounding you as you both took in the soft glow of the room.

After a moment, Leah grabbed a couple of candy canes from a nearby bowl, handing one to you before popping the other into her mouth, grinning as she let it dangle between her lips. She looked at you with that cheeky spark in her eye. “Come on, I can’t be the only one getting into the Christmas spirit,” she said, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, taking a bite of your candy cane and settling down beside her on the couch. She pulled a blanket over both of you, leaning against you as she pressed play on a classic Christmas movie that she’d queued up earlier. Together, you snuggled up, munching on candy canes, watching the lights twinkle on the tree, and laughing at the silly holiday scenes unfolding on the screen.

As the night came to and end, you tried to unwrap yourself from the cozy blanket covered position you and Leah had gotten into. The blonde didn’t let you; she tightened her hold on your waist and whispered into the calm night, “Thanks for making this the best Christmas.”

You smiled, reaching to take her hand that had settled on your stomach. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

With her hand in yours and the lights from the tree casting gentle shadows across the room, you felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be. It wasn’t just about the tree or the decorations, it was about being with Leah, sharing those little moments that you hoped would happen for years to come, and feeling perfectly at home in each other’s arms as the night settled around you.

[hellothisisangle]

First of all, love your art, your painting style is GORGEOUS! Secondly, some food for thought based off your template- What kind of dragonborn do you think Cae would be? I personally think crystal would suit him very well because of all the shiny but I'm kinda curious about your thoughts on it :)

I’ve been meaning to do a Dragonborn version even BEFORE I tried the other races template! Here’s a quick design! If I ever put some more time into it maybe I’ll change things up/make it more unique

Basic features-wise, he’d have a more slender frame and longer snout. The head plates’ shapes resemble feather tips

I didn’t have enough knowledge about Dragonborn to chime in, so I went and did some research! Cae would have to be a mix, it doesn’t seem like he fits comfortably into a set category? But I do think gem would be one of them, given his iridescent sheen. 5e now has 5 categories of gem ancestry, but let’s pretend I get to pick whatever I want- I’m choosing bismuth and psychic damage (while not technically a gem, the mineral can form crystals)

I would also say either gold or red dragon ancestry because of the fire/lava motif. But more likely red since it is a chromatic type and is typically of “evil” alignment, which fits the Bhaal aesthetic

[thethronezone]

The High Consort demands an actual proper wedding from Big E, and he accepts what will the wedding would look like?

First of all; location. Of course it's going to take place in the Imperial Palace. There's no other option. Well, there were, but they were all shot down. Apparently, there were no large enough wedding venues on Luna, so the palace it is.

A specific section of the palace is chosen and sectioned off for the event so that no wayward guests will accidentally wander off somewhere they are not supposed to be. Security is going to be tight. The custodes are treating this like its war.

The chosen section includes multiple gardens and halls, providing enough space to entertain hundreds of thousands of guests. Which there will be because the Imperium has a million worlds under its rule and that means that a lot of people need to be present to represent them.

And listen, the guests aren't required to bring gifts. That wasn't included on the invitation. But like, how could anyone show up without one? It's practically a competition between guests to one-up each other in order to prove their loyalty and to (hopefully) earn some favor from the royal couple. Multiple rooms have to be emptied to serve as temporary storage areas because of the multitude of gifts. Some noble brought a space ship. A smaller one, yes, but a space ship nonetheless.

Decorations? Decorations. Not cheap little trinkets either, no, they are breaking out the fine shit, the treasures the Emperor and High Consort have collected over the years. And it's a fucking lot. There are different displays of artworks and artifacts, most of them originating from ancient Terra, that the guests can admire and talk about. A retinue of magos go into an excited frenzy when they find an original Macintosh computer. When it also manages to turn on without fail the custodes has to direct the other guests around them as the mechanicus start praising the machine-spirit with full on religious ceremonies.

As for the Primarchs? Of course they're all there. Attendance is mandatory and so is good behavior. So no convincing the High Consort to bail before the ceremony (looking at you Mortarion). They are all expected to be dressed for the occasion so no wearing just any old rag (again, looking at you Mortarion). Some Primarchs adhere to these rules better than others. Fulgrim, Sanguinius and Roboute are all splendid examples, looking behaving like perfect sons. Angron looks and behaves like someone put a honey badger in a suit while Ferrus just showed up in actual armor. Shiny armor, sure, but that's besides the point. Fulgrim forced him to go change.

Speaking of Fulgrim, he practically begged to be part of the planning for the wedding. Surprisingly enough, so did Rogal. Apparently he had a lot of ideas of how to improve the structural integrity and security of the venue. Fulgrim almost stabbed him in the eye when he suggested automated turrets on the banisters, even when Rogal tried to compromise by offering to paint them gold. Malcador had to calm that entire situation down.

The ceremony itself is actually fairly simple. The Emperor and the High Consort exchange some vows, promise to remain loyal to one another and all that and then the celebration starts for real. There is no exchange of rings but they do kiss at the end of their vows.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1

Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 3,538

Part 2

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.

“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.

“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.

“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.

You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.

“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.

“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.

“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.

“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.

“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”

“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”

“But it’s so cold.” You pout.

“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.

“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.

The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.

“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.

“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.

“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.

“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.

“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.

“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.

“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.

“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.

“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.

His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.

“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.

“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.

“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.

“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.

“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.

“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.

“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.

Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.

“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“And I love you, sweet girl.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

[redroomreflections]

Paint It Black Chapter Six

Teen Natasha Romanoff x Teen Reader

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has never known love—or at least, that’s what she tells herself. During her time in the Red Room, she encountered a girl whose memory was forcibly erased from her mind. Now, as an Avenger, she faces a new enemy who turns out to be more than just a threat; they share a tangled history that challenges everything Natasha thought she knew about herself and love.

Chapter Summary: Natasha learns that she and R aren't friends

W/c: 3.9k

Warnings: This is a dark story, so read at your own risk. Mentions/hints of SA, violence, guns, and abuse. We're exploring the Red Room and Natasha's origins, kind of. MENTIONS OF STERILIZATION

Dreykov was, by all means, a busy man. With a facility of over two hundred girls to keep track of, he needed precision in every aspect of his "business." The girls rarely saw him unless he found one interesting. And as you knew, you were his topic of interest, along with Natasha.

On days like today, he'd pull you into his office and have you sit with and observe him. It was all part of his game, and it was working. You were scared shitless, and you tried not to show it. You sat up straight, shoulders squared and hands folded on your lap. The air in his office was tense, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

You weren't a scared little girl. Not anymore. There were papers stacked in neat piles on his desk, reports on training progress, mission briefings, and names with numbers beside them—statistics, not people. You didn’t have to look closely to know what they meant.

You were looking at him, watching his hands shuffle through the files, and he was aware of it. His gaze was trained on the paper in his hands, and you didn't miss the ghost of a smirk on his face. You were staring again. You knew better.

You tore your eyes away, pointing to the glass case on the wall beside his head. This was also a part of his game. Making you wait there. Making you sit with him and keep your attention on him. It was all part of making you afraid, and you knew that. So instead, you focused on the objects in the glass case, the shiny things inside. A gold ring, a necklace with a ruby pendant, and a gun.

You heard the shuffling of papers, then silence.

"You understand, don’t you?" he mused, flipping a page without looking at you. You hadn't realized he'd even spoken. You directed your gaze to his. His eyes were still trained on the paper, and a chill ran up your spine. He finally looked at you, and there was something dark in his expression.

"I do, sir," you told him, your voice soft. "I understand."

"Do you?" He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk.

You nodded, swallowing thickly.

"My Widows are some of the best in the world," He mused to himself mostly. He truly didn't care if you responded, you think. You nodded. It was always better to agree."This is how control is maintained. Not through brute force alone, but through order." He gestured vaguely to the reports. "Through strategy."

He stood, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor cutting through the silence. He walked around the desk and came to stand behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. His breath was warm on your neck, and you shuddered.

"Your training has been going well," His voice was soft and low, and he pressed his lips to your ear. "You're useful to me." He said.

You knew he only said these things to make you feel good, but it worked. The praise washed over you, and you suppressed a smile. You had to fight the urge to lean into him and instead sat still as stone.

"Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice quiet.

He hummed, his fingers brushing the back of your neck. He was so close.

"I think I need two things from you," He whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

"And what are those, sir?"

"I will be sending Natasha Romanoff on her first mission," He continued, and you tensed. "I would like for you to watch her. You're a valuable asset to me. If she fails, it could jeopardize my operation."

"Yes, sir." You wondered why he didn't just send one of the older widows.

"You'll leave tomorrow," he said. "I have a few other matters to attend to." He looked down at you with a heavy gaze. "And I want to speak with you privately."

"Yes, sir," you replied, meeting his stare. His hand was still on your shoulder, his thumb tracing circles into your skin. You felt goosebumps rising where he touched. He was so close. You wanted to move away from him. You wanted to shrink away from his touch.

But you didn't.

You were trained not to.

So you sat there, waiting for him to move, but he didn't. He just watched you, his eyes raking over your form.

You shifted under his gaze. "Is there something wrong, sir?"

He blinked as if pulled from a thought. His grip tightened, fingers pressing down until the weight of his hand became unbearable—until it felt like he was pinning you to the chair.

There was a knock at the door, and the tension snapped in half. Whatever pain you were about to endure by his hands could wait.

Dreykov pulled back, his expression unreadable. "Enter."

"Antonia and Georgina are here, sir," A soldier announced.

He exhaled sharply as he had already forgotten this interruption was coming. He gestured the soldier away. "Send her in."

The woman who entered wasn’t much older than you. Maybe seventeen. Maybe eighteen. Former Widow. You recognized her. Not her name, but her face.

In her arms, she carried a little girl.

Brown hair. Brown eyes. Wet cheeks.

Antonia.

Dreykov’s daughter.

The child clung to the woman’s neck, her tiny hands fisting into the fabric of her shirt. The woman didn’t look at Dreykov or even acknowledge his presence. But the moment her wide eyes landed on you, her expression darkened.

She knew you.

And she didn’t like you.

The woman set the child down on the floor and stepped away. Dreykov didn't take his eyes off you, but he spoke to the girl, his tone stern. "Come here, Antonia."

The child obeyed, shuffling her little feet over to the desk. She stood before it, staring up at her father. Dreykov turned to the child, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

"How was your lesson?" he asked her.

Antonia didn't answer. She was staring at her shoes, her face a mess of tears. "I didn't like the teacher." She mumbled.

Dreykov chuckled. "You mustn't cry, my dear," he said, reaching out and placing his hand on the girl's head. She flinched at his touch but didn't pull away."It's a weakness." He finished.

His hand fell from the child's head, and his eyes flickered to you. "You can go," he said, nodding toward the door.

You stood quickly, practically tumbling over your feet in a rush to leave the room. It felt weird seeing Dreykov be almost fatherly to the little girl. You moved quickly, your legs carrying you out of his office before you could even process the tightness in your chest. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing him in with her.

Antonia couldn’t be older than five. Still small enough to be carried in someone’s arms. Still young enough to cry without shame. But even now, she was learning that weakness wasn’t allowed. Learning that flinching at his touch meant nothing if she didn’t pull away.

She was the spitting image of her father. The same sharp features. The same cold eyes. But there was something of Georgina in her, too, softer and fragile.

Not that it mattered.

Not in this place.

You clenched your fists, trying to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. Why was it bothering you? You’d seen Dreykov take an interest in girls before—handpicking, molding, turning them into weapons or something worse. You knew what happened to the women he kept.

Would Antonia be any different?

Would you?

The thought made your stomach churn.

There was no leaving. No, after this life. You had always known that. You had never wanted to be one of them. The women who stayed by his side. The ones who weren’t discarded but kept. The ones who belonged to him in a way that no mission, assignment, or Widow ever could.

Georgina had once been like you. A favorite. Chosen. And now, she was nothing more than an extension of his will, an obedient shell.

You swallowed hard.

Would that be you one day?

Would there come a time when you stopped fighting? When you let him own you completely?

*******

Natasha didn’t particularly have a least favorite lesson until she was introduced to the different aspects of beauty.

She had been inducted into makeup.

It was a class for the older girls—a technique designed to make them appear more mature, polished, and useful. A skill not just for blending in but for becoming exactly what was needed.

She sat stiffly in front of the mirror, her expression carefully blank. The instructor, an older woman with hard lines carved into her face, stood beside her. Her voice was sharp and clinical, rattling off step-by-step instructions like they were assembling a weapon.

“Foundation first.” A compact was placed in front of her. “You need a flawless base.”

Natasha dipped the sponge into the powder, pressing it against her skin. It felt foreign, suffocating. The fine dust clung to her, sinking into the grooves of her face. She tried not to grimace.

“Now, the eyes.” A pencil, cool and sharp, was handed to her. “Liner should be subtle. Just enough to make them striking.”

She dragged it along her waterline, the unfamiliar pressure making her blink rapidly. Her fingers twitched to wipe it away. She wasn't sure she was doing this correctly. Her hands were unsteady and uncoordinated.

"Good. Now mascara. Don’t blink too much."

Natasha obeyed. She always obeyed.

Lipstick came last. A deep shade of red—bold, adult. She hesitated for half a second before pressing it to her lips, dragging it across.

"Perfect." The instructor stepped back to assess her. Natasha met her gaze in the mirror, and something cold settled in her stomach.

She looked different. Older. Sharper. Someone else entirely.

"How does it feel?"

The words sat on the tip of her tongue. Wrong. Too much. Like I can't breathe.

Instead, she answered, "Fine."

The instructor nodded approvingly. "You'll get used to it."

"Madam," Natasha pondered. "Can I be excused?"

"For what reason?"

"I don't feel well."

The instructor's expression softened a fraction. She was not heartless. "Of course. Go. We'll continue this lesson another time."

Natasha slid out of the chair, careful not to smudge the lipstick, and fled. She didn’t know where she was going but needed an out. She was headed for the infirmary, hoping she could feign a headache to receive a little time away, when she noticed you walking into the room. She moved herself against the wall, making herself as small as possible to avoid seeing you. She was still upset about the other day. You'd told her to bomb the match so she wouldn't be sent on a mission. In theory, it sounded great. Missions weren't her favorite thing to do here. But then she'd gotten punished for not putting in her all. The instructors weren't happy, so they gave her extra work and made her clean the training rooms. She didn't have a problem with doing it. It was the fact that she hadn't known she'd be moving up a rank.

Moving up a rank in the Red Room meant something rare—trust.

Not freedom, not really, but a loosening of the reins. It meant she had proven herself competent and reliable. It meant fewer eyes watching her every move and fewer punishments for the smallest missteps. It meant they expected her to succeed now.

And she hadn’t even known.

Her stomach twisted. She pressed tighter against the wall, watching you disappear inside the infirmary.

You hadn’t warned her. Not about that.

You had told her to throw the match—to lose on purpose. And like a fool, she had listened. She thought she was playing it smart and avoiding something worse. Instead, she had humiliated herself. She had been reprimanded, punished, and set back. And yet, somehow, they were still sending her on a mission.

Natasha moved like a shadow, silent and unsure, as she pushed open the doors to the infirmary. There were no guards here at this time, and it seemed you knew, too. She pressed close to the wall, edging toward the cracked door like she had months ago. It wasn't like her to spy, but still, she needed to know more about you. She needed to know what she was dealing with.

******

You didn't know why your first stop was Nora's office. She was much too busy for your dramatics. But you needed the slightest bit of comfort she offered. The slightest bit of touch she would give when you would allow her. Nora was your favorite person in the Red Room. She wasn't stiff and cold like the other widows of her age. Nora was the closest thing you had to safe.

She wasn’t warm, not exactly—no one in the Red Room was—but she wasn’t cruel. She was blunt, whereas others were deceptive and awkward, and others were polished. She had been cycled through this place more times than you could count, yet somehow, she still had pieces of herself left.

That was why you came to her.

She didn’t coddle, didn’t pretend. She didn’t try to pry you open like a puzzle to be solved. She let you exist, let you take what you needed—whether it was silence, a brush of fingers over your wrist, or a conversation where neither of you said exactly what you meant.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Do you have any aspirin?"

Nora sighed. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Yes," you told her, but it wasn't entirely true. Your head hurt, but it wasn't a physical ailment. It was the pressure, the constant fear, the unease. Of course, you couldn't tell her that. You hopped up on the exam table, watching as she typed away on her computer, and tried to steady your breathing.

She stood, rifling through the cabinet. "You're not supposed to have those," she told you, glancing at the screen. "But I think we can make an exception."

"Thank you." You reached for the pill bottle, but she shook her head.

"I'll get it," she said, handing you a small cup of water. She handed you the cup, all the while studying you closely until you drank the entire thing. "You're worried about something."

"I'm not," You said through clenched teeth.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

"I'm not," You insisted. "I'm...tired."

She watched you closely. "It's not like you to ask for pain medication."

"I had a long day," You replied, looking down at your hands.

She nodded slowly, her eyes lingering on your face. "You've been tired a lot lately."

You shifted, avoiding her gaze. "Well, you try being fourteen and learning to be a Widow."

"I've done it three times," She muttered playfully. Nora hummed, letting the conversation settle for a moment before switching gears. "Andrey was asking about you again."

You barely held back a grimace. Of course, he was.

"He’s persistent," she added, her voice laced with something unreadable. Amusement? Annoyance? It was hard to tell with her sometimes.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "He’s disgusting."

Nora’s brows lifted slightly, but she didn’t look surprised. "He’s useful."

You scoffed. "To who?"

"To you," she said simply. "Boys like him are predictable. You should use that."

You clenched your jaw, fingers curling against your palms. "I’d rather not. All boys his age want is one thing, and I'm not interested in giving it to him."

"That's not always true," Nora argued, her tone flat. "They're easy enough to control."

"Easy for you, maybe," you grumbled.

"And easy for you."

You sighed, shifting. "I don't want to do that if I don't have to." You mumbled, knowing that she would understand. "If I get too close, He'll take what he wants anyway."

Nora was quiet for a moment, her sharp eyes scanning your face. Then, she sighed. "That’s the way of things, isn’t it?"

You didn’t answer.

She leaned back slightly, exhaling through her nose. "I won’t tell you what to do. But I will tell you this—you should never let them see what you hate."

You swallowed, pressing your nails into your palms. "I know."

"And if he ever steps out of line—"

"I’ll handle it," you cut in.

Nora gave you a long look, then nodded. "Good."

After a beat, you asked, "Why does he like me so much?"

She could tell you weren't talking about Andrey anymore.

"Because you're special," Nora said, her tone softer than before.

You looked down at your hands before looking at her with shining eyes. "I don't want to be special." You shook your head. "I want the procedure." You said suddenly.

Nora’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes flickered—understanding, maybe, or something close to sorrow.

"You don’t mean that," she said, but there was no challenge in her voice. Just quiet certainty.

"I do," you insisted. Your throat felt tight. "I don’t want to be looked at like that. I don’t want to be wanted like that."

Nora exhaled slowly, studying you. "It won’t change everything," she said finally. "Not the way you think it will."

You swallowed hard. "But it would change something. I wouldn't end up like Georgina."

"It's too early," Nora denied you. "You've not graduated yet. You have two more years."

"And after that?" You pressed, trying to hide the desperation in your voice.

Nora frowned, her brow furrowing. "Why is this coming up now? What's happened?"

You didn't answer her.

"Y/N," She pressed.

"He's sending me on a mission," You muttered, looking down at the ground. "With a new girl. Natasha."

Nora's frown deepened. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

You didn't speak for a moment. Then, you nodded, exhaling slowly. "It's okay," you told her. "I just...want something to change."

Nora didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes were fixed on you, her expression unreadable.

"Have you ever wanted to be a mother?" you asked.

She blinked, taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

"I can't say I have," She answered truthfully.

You sighed. "Neither have I."

Nora didn't reply, just stared at you.

"Do you think my mother is still looking for me?" You asked. "If she could find me. If she were alive?"

"You've had a long day," Nora said instead of answering.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding.

"Go to your quarters," She instructed. "Try to rest."

"Yes, ma'am," you said, standing from the table. You glanced at the bottle of pills in her hand.

"One more," Nora said, placing it in your palm. "It will help you sleep."

"Thank you," you murmured.

She didn't reply; she just returned to the computer.

You made your way out of the room and back towards the hallway. You stopped short when you heard a shuffling behind you. You turned your head, glancing back towards the doorway.

Natasha was standing there.

Her eyes were wide, her face flushed.

"I knew you were there," You sighed, disappointed. "You really should work on being more subtle."

"What happened back there?" Natasha asked. "What procedure are you talking about?"

You studied her. She was curious. Always too curious.

You shook your head and walked away instead. When you first began talking to Natasha, you thought you could be close. You thought she was someone you could befriend. It was a stupid thought. A childish one.

No one here was your friend.

Not even Nora.

You weren't going to make the mistake of getting close to her again.

She was only a mission.

***

Natasha sat in the darkness of her room, the sound of your footsteps still echoing in her mind.

The procedure.

What was it?

And why did the thought of it terrify her?

It wasn't her business. It was none of her concern. And yet, it gnawed at her. Like an itch, she couldn't scratch like a splinter stuck beneath her skin.

You were a mystery to her. One she had thought she was slowly solving. But now, it felt like she knew even less than before. She exhaled sharply, shifting to sit cross-legged on her bed. Her body ached from the day's training, but she barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere—on you, the secrets you carried, and what Dreykov wasn’t telling her.

And the mission.

Her first real mission since Ohio.

In just twelve hours, she’d be leaving the Red Room for the first time, sent into the world like a knife drawn from its sheath. Dreykov hadn’t given her many details—only that it was necessary. If you were going, that meant it mattered. You were almost two years older than her, more experienced, more trusted. You had done this before.

Natasha had not.

She could only hope she did well. 

******

A few hours later, Natasha hadn’t anticipated what would happen before the mission. Her briefing had been minimal. Cryptic at best.

She stood at the foot of her bed, head bowed, eyes lowered, waiting. The footsteps of a soldier approached, steady and unhurried. A blindfold was secured over her eyes—tight, rough fabric pressing into her skin. She didn’t flinch. She would have to get used to this.

Hands gripped her arm, guiding her forward. She followed without resistance. She was pushed into the back of a van, her body colliding with another.

Your voice came, low and steady, near her ear.

"Don’t panic. It’s just to keep us from knowing the way out."

She swallowed, forcing her breath to stay even.

She wouldn’t panic.

But she hated this already.

The van jolted forward, the engine rumble masking the sound of breathing around her. Natasha kept still, her body tense, fingers curled into fists in her lap. The tight blindfold pressed into her skin, forcing her to rely on her other senses.

She could feel your shoulder against hers, solid and unmoving.

She exhaled quietly, focusing on the weight of it, grounding herself.

She hadn't anticipated this.

Minimal briefing, little preparation—she had expected that. But the blindfold, the silent transport, the feeling of being nothing more than cargo—was new.

"How long?" she murmured.

A pause. Then, your voice was softer than before. "A while."

She nodded, shifting slightly. The van was crowded—she could hear the steady breathing of at least two others. Maybe more. It smelled of steel and oil, the faint trace of sweat clinging to the air.

She focused on the movement, counting each turn and each stop, trying to map the route in her mind. It didn’t take long to realize how impossible that was. The roads twisted, and the speed changed at random as if you were deliberately being disoriented.

You sighed beside her as if you knew exactly what she was doing. "Don’t bother."

Natasha turned her head slightly. "You don’t want to know where we are?"

"I already know what matters," you muttered. "In a few seconds, you will feel a pinch. Don't fight it."

"What?"

"Now," you whispered.

A hand seized her shoulder, and she felt the sharp bite of a needle sinking into her neck. She froze, fighting the instinct to pull away. The pressure released, and the grip on her shoulder loosened.

"What was that?" she hissed.

"Just a precaution," you murmured, your words slightly slurred. She couldn't ask the next question on the tip of her tongue before she felt the world around her become unsteady. She leaned against your shoulder, unable to hold herself up any longer.

"It will be alright," You assured her.

Natasha nodded, though her movements felt heavy and slow. The last thing she heard before her world went black was the sound of your voice saying

"Rest."

-----> next part

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Beautiful condos are available in this building beginning at about $225k and up, but the penthouse, here, is for sale for $6.4m + a ridiculous $7,150/mo HOA . This is a 1981 building in Houston, TX. 4bds, 6ba, 7,156 sq ft. The caveat is that the current owners made some decor decisions that buyers may not want to pay $6.4m for. Take a look.

The entrance hall. As you can see, they went with black, gray, purple, and gold. I do like black if it's done right.

It just doesn't look crisp, it's like they hired the lowest bidder. Look at the gold on the table to the left- that's a DIY paint job.

The grand staircase has lighted steps.

Not sure what they were going for. Hip, goth, glam, or subdued sophistication. Do you see what I mean- the gold lines on the ceiling aren't sharp.

Double balconies and a gold tray ceiling.

They've got a chess table in the stair well.

My ex was an antique furniture restorer and I learned about paint and stuff. It just doesn't look right- if it's a semi-gloss finish, it doesn't have the rich satin glow, and if it's gloss, it's not shiny enough- it should look like patent leather. I'm confused, it must be cheap paint.

At least they didn't mess up the kitchen. Is that a tin backsplash? I would prefer tile or quartz.

This dining area has damask wallpaper, (not a fan), but the ceiling's got a mural.

Large guest powder room.

Huge bedroom. The ceiling in here is nice. Great panoramic view of the city.

Very large ensuite.

The walk-in closet/dressing room.

This secondary bedroom is big enough for a sitting area.

The ensuite is a shower room.

This appears to be an office.

It also has its own shower room.

On this lower level, there's a family room.

Bd. #3 is pretty. Maybe this is the primary bedroom. It's hard to tell b/c all the bedrooms are large.

Matching ensuite.

Beautiful closet and a vanity table.

Here's a gentleman's closet, too.

The lounge has a bar and doors to the rooftop deck.

The roof top deck is gigantic, and includes a full-size pool and hot tub.

Amenities include 6 parking spaces, Dry Sauna, Exercise Room, Guest Room Available in case you run out of space, Playground, Storage, Tennis Court(s), Trash Chute, Trash Pick Up, and Outdoor Kitchen.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/101-Westcott-St-UNIT-2001-Houston-TX-77007/28420214_zpid/

[aebinspa]

let's kill the romeo

PAIRING: ricky x y/n reader

GENRES: angst, fluff at the end, rude ricky but with a motive, fashion world!au, enemies to lovers that never been enemies, reader doesn't know his feelings, ricky has always been faithful, wendy (rv) is reader's best friend, wendy only did damage but at least she was hot, misunderstandings distance ricky and reader until in the final part everything is resolved for the best, second hand embarrassment

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! this story was born in my mind in one way but ended up becoming something else. i'm not happy with it, i wanted to delete it. i wrote it in many days, between one commitment and another, and I made it even worse. i hope that by publishing it someone can still appreciate it! :(

A last-minute black V-neck dress, heels borrowed from your best friend, and a vintage clutch your grandmother left you wouldn’t be enough to save you from the embarrassment of being at a party full of billionaires. It was all your best friend's fault, a famous ambassador for a luxury superbrand who had invited her to bring a companion. And when she asked you to come with her, you couldn't help but say yes; she was your only friend.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" your best friend asks you innocently. “It’s all too much…” “I know, but the party won’t last very long. A chat over there with the CEO of Dolce & Gabbana, an hour at the buffet, and everything will pass” “I don’t know anyone…” “I just saw a colleague of mine over there! I'm going to her!” The idea of rushing straight to the buffet and spending the entire party there seemed alright to you.

Having grabbed some snacks and established some rules with yourself such as “Don’t look men in the eye for too long”, “Don’t stare at other women’s clothes” and “Don’t drink too much alcohol”, you sat down on the first available chair to enviously watch all the beautiful women in the huge ballroom of the villa where the party was being held. How beautiful it must be to be so tall and slender.

After an hour of contemplation you realized that you had completely lost sight of your best friend and, huffing loudly stressed by the situation, you thanked the first waiter you found and took two glasses of wine to drink. With a heavy step, you headed towards a door that had caught your attention. The door was all dressed up in shiny gold, making it look super fancy. Laurel leaves wrapped around the edges, also in gold, adding a nice touch to the whole thing. It stood out and made the entrance feel special, catching the attention of anyone who walked by. How tacky.

After looking around to make sure no one could see you, you tried to gently open the door, which turned out to be open to your great surprise. Inside, in a small room with a velvet sofa in the center, paintings were displayed on the walls, which—even though you were no expert in the field—seemed strangely familiar and extremely expensive.

“This painting by Monet is particularly mesmerizing, isn't it?” You almost jumped in the air with fright and the glasses - previously in your hands - fell to the ground and broke, and the terribly expensive wine ended up spilling all over the imposing figure who had whispered in your ear a second before. “Oh God I'm sorry, are you okay?” Even though you were trying to dry the Valentino tuxedo he was wearing with your hands, the boy didn’t seem to be upset and kept his posture straight. “Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, looking you up and down. “No?”

The blond ran his hand furiously through his hair. Tall, handsome, blond, definitely rich, and, the cherry on top, unbearable. Why me? “Can I pay for the laundry?” “That wouldn’t solve anything” I have two pennies in my account, there’s not much I can do, idiot. “Well then I'll go” You didn't even realize it, but the boy stood in front of the door to block the exit.

“You’re not leaving. You have two problems to solve.” “Which ones, your majesty?” you asked with your eyebrow raised. A cheap dandy didn't scare you. “First, the shards of the glasses you broke. Second, my fine tuxedo" “I can't take the glasses in my hands, I risk dying, you know how it is,” the look he gave you to intimidate you was of little use “And then, speaking of your cheap tuxedo, I offered to pay for your laundry but you refused!" “In no world can someone repay a Valentino jacket and pants with a machine wash?”

Oh, if only you could have hit him, but everything in there could have been traced back to you. From the fingerprints on the door to the fingerprints on the glasses. “There’s a way.” “Let’s hear the bullshit, little prince.” I’ll leave as soon as you say it, asshole. “Work for me. A week as my secretary will be enough for you to pay me back the suit" The satisfied smile that appeared on the blond's face as soon as he saw your mouth open in amazement was not a pretty sight to see.

“How… what… You’re crazy. I’m leaving” You didn’t even have time to turn around before the boy grabbed your arm and forced you to turn and face him. “Leave me alone” “It costs six thousand euros” “What?” “My suit” “Ah”

Maybe it would have been better to mind your own business from the beginning. Maybe it would have been better to eat everything on the buffet: it would have cost you less. This time you felt guilty. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t have the money to pay you back, so, let me go” “No, as soon as you step foot out of this room I’ll go tell the CEO everything. We are great friends and, well, colleagues.” He flashes another of his annoying little smiles.

“Who cares, I don't owe you anything except laundry and a clean shirt” “You owe me a week as my assistant, otherwise it won't be you who will be affected, but those you know” "Excuse me?" “You’re not a model and you don’t work in the luxury fashion industry. You must have accompanied someone. It only takes me two seconds to find out who brought you here and you’ll see what a guy like me can do, besides buying a luxury suit” Now you were in real trouble. Getting your best friend involved meant ending up on the list of shitty friends to quickly forget about.

“Threats are illegal and you're threatening me. I will work for you for a week, but you dare use that tone with me again, just once, and I will make your life hell” It must have been the bloodshot look you were giving him or the way your hands were shaking as you said it, but the boy, faced with such a scene, responded by laughing. “Then I’ll see you on Monday. Give me your number, and I’ll have the company secretary contact you” “Okay” What a situation. It would have been better to binge myself to death.

“Your name?” “What?” “What’s your name?” he asked you again, adding a raised eyebrow to his already rude tone of voice. “Y/n” “Nice to meet you, I’m Ricky and I work as a modeler for Valentino.” The handshake you shared was colder than the weather at the top of Mount Everest.

“You're late” “No one pays me to arrive early” “I'm paying you” “So you're paying me with money that I'll use to pay you back? Brilliant” “You’re giving me your time, honey. Don’t forget that” Not only were you dressed head to toe in clothes that cost more than you’d ever earned in your life, but you were wearing the highest, most uncomfortable heels you’d ever tried on.

Ricky led you to his desk, from which you could keep an eye on both his office - or creative lab, as he called it - and the main entrance. The little prince wanted to know everything that was happening nearby. A thud brought you back to reality. Ricky had just slammed a countless pile of folders and loose papers onto your desk.

“What should I do with them?” “They’re sketches, divide them by collection. You’ll find the collection written on the back, I don’t expect you to be able to recognize a common theme” Too bad I can’t spit in your face, idiot. You replied with a fake smile and watched him walk away. If only he didn't have this bad temper, he wouldn't even be so bad to look at. The work you had to do wasn't that boring after all. While you spent your time shuffling papers, you saw a considerable number of people coming and going: men and women who in turn were full of sketches, and fabrics and were sweating coldly at the mere thought of being late. This Ricky must be quite important. The only things you understood were that your boss was a huge asshole and that he worked relentlessly. At closing time, while everyone was leaving, the blond one still seemed intent on continuing to work for more hours. As the very responsible secretary you were, you couldn't allow your boss to reach a point of no return and so you set off to open the door that led to his office.

Another woman opened it quicker than you. You didn’t realize it and neither did Ricky. Panic took over your body because you had just broken the first rule: don’t let anyone in who isn’t on the list. That woman was not only not on the list, but she was the only one circled in red as “the only person who should never enter my office”

“Shen Quanrui, you poor bastard, answer my calls instead of pretending nothing happened!” the beautiful woman who stood in front of the blond shouted, visibly angry, and from behind you noticed that she had an incredible back. Oh, Ricky… Why do you have all these beautiful women around you?

The blond looked away from the woman who was yelling at him, whispering, “You idiot, why did you let her in?” You responded with a frown. “Ricky, why do you have a new secretary after firing me not even a week ago? “Because I needed one.” “Then why did you fire me and make me look incompetent?” Scream after scream, but seeing Ricky suffer from earaches because of another one made you particularly happy.

“I have no intention of marrying you, you know that, so, I don’t want to have any more contact with you” “I don’t give a shit Ricky, your father said you have to marry me and you will” “I’m not my father” “But your father is the head of this company and the one you owe everything you have now! You will lose everything if you don’t marry me and stop being a child” The woman looked at you and the other with contempt before slamming the door shut and yelling a “Fuck you!” in the hallway.

You started to look intently at Ricky who, overcome by despair, let himself fall with all his weight on his desk chair. “Why does it always have to end like this?” he ran a hand through his hair. “Do you need something to drink?” You asked worried. I even have the nerve to worry about someone who treated me like a doormat. “Actually yes, let's go have a drink Y/n” “Ah yes sure sure. You and me having a drink together. Nice joke" “I'll pay” “Okay, you win, prince of my boots”

“So you're the son of the big boss and I'm just a poor bitch you picked up at the last minute to save your ass after firing your very loyal, money-loving secretary who your father decided you should marry? Well, The Bold and the Beautiful is a cheap soap opera in comparison!” A stifled chuckle escaped the mouth of your, albeit unpleasant, attractive boss.

“All the women in my life have ended up the same way. They met me, maybe fell in love with me a few times, and then my father somehow convinced them to marry me.” “If your father came to me begging me to marry you for a few million euros, I’m sure I would make the same decision as your ex-secretary and the women your father somehow convinced to be part of your life.” Another giggle.

“You know Y/n, I’m not that much of an asshole” “You all say that. Yet you threatened me and forced me to work for you” “I was desperate, I should have explained everything to you right away” Maybe in his heart, Ricky was sorry for everything. Those eyes with which he looked at you showed much more than he had shown you in those few moments spent together.

“I watched you all night at my dad’s party and laughed out loud watching you twiddle food and glasses of wine in your hands. You were a real fish out of water” This time it was your mouth that let out a giggle. “It wasn’t really my place” “Apparently not. But it’s not my place either. I want to do fashion and as soon as I can I’ll leave my dad’s company and start my own” “You dream big, I’ve never been able to do that” “It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud” “It’s the alcohol, Ricky” “Or maybe it’s you, Y/n”

When the feeling of saying too much hit you both, Ricky was the first to move and asked for the bill, and you broke the eerie silence that had been created. “I’ll do this week and disappear from your life. No marriage and no second-class woman in your life. I’ll finish what I have to finish and I’ll pay you back. You’ll go back to your life” “It seems fair”

You walked out the pub's front door but didn’t even say goodbye. The cold hit your face and forced you to wake up from that dream you thought you were living. Who knows how Ricky must have felt every time a woman in his life showed she was more interested in his father’s money than in him? “Well, treat me well” “What?” “I won’t let you treat me like an idiot anymore. Change your ways. Don’t put up a barrier. Don’t worry, I’ll never say yes to your father” “Um…” “Then it seems to me that your father has only chosen great hotties to be your wife, I’m out of category”

Maybe the alcohol had gone to both of your heads, but you forgot about the terrible encounter you had two days before. "I like you" "Good to know" God, why did I become red?

Four days later you and Ricky still hadn't decided to exchange a word. You continued to work and so did he, just at a different pace. Being ignored was the worst feeling you could ever have in your life and you knew it. Your phone screen lit up: your best friend had just texted you asking to meet up. After asking Ricky’s permission to take your lunch break early, you went to a coffee shop near the facility where you worked to meet up with Wendy.

“My love! I haven’t heard from you and I thought the worst!” Wendy entered the venue with great enthusiasm and everyone turned to look at her. “I’ve been busy, now I’ll tell you everything” Wendy’s face, your best friend, changed several times during your story of the events that had happened in the last period; you told her how everything had started because of that party and how you had ended up working for an unpleasant blond who had turned out to be a misunderstood softie.

“Shen Quanrui? Wait, I’ve heard that name before” “He introduced himself to me as Ricky and then this girl came screaming and calling him Shen Quanrui, I told you.” “Oh my God” “What?” “That Shen Quanrui”

You looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before screaming “Ahhh” together. The only difference was that you screamed in terror. “That Shen Quanrui who studied fashion and design…” Wendy went to take the orders at the counter and sat back down. “Let’s recap,” Wendy took a breath; “the famous Ricky from Valentino is that Shen Quanrui who you fell in love with during college when the three of us did that school project. Except that his father got in the way when he saw us going out together and then offered you, a woman in love, some money to get you away from his son and you didn't accept, convinced that you wanted to declare yourself the next day" “Yes, then what went wrong? I never accepted that money!” Even though the cafeteria was full of people, the silence between you and Wendy became more and more insistent.

“Wendy?” “I accepted that money. And I also took a job at Dolce & Gabbana. I didn’t- I didn’t think it would go this way. Then, well, Ricky disappeared, I think he went to America” “He disappeared because you accepted the money instead of talking to him! You sold your, no, our friendship for something worth much less” “I’m sorry. You know I would never do that now”

Anger coursed through your body. But it didn’t seem right to scold your friend for something she had done in the past. It had already happened. You knew full well that now she would never have the courage to do it again.

“I need to talk to him, but he continues to ignore me” “I could help you” “What are you going to do, Wendy?” Maybe she had too much courage.

It was Sunday, the final day. Wendy was ready to put her plan into action, by hook or by crook. "Good morning, Ricky" "Um" As cold as ever. You heard footsteps in the hallway. It’s time. The door to your office opened, revealing your best friend on the other side in a black suit that hugged her body beautifully. “Did you make it?” “The janitor seems to have a thing for me” Wendy showed you the key and smiled widely, telling you that she would give you an hour and no more. You nodded your head and thanked her. Now it was your turn.

“Ricky, how much longer do you have?” “Five minutes” You opened the door to his lab and looked out. “Do you want to have a drink?” “I don’t like the drunk version of me” Oh, I think so.

You looked at him better one more time. When you were in college he had black hair and a thinner face, and he was definitely less athletic. Now he was tall, blond and he looked at you with those two black puddles of his as if he wanted to bite your heart out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “What?” “That it was you”

Ricky seemed to understand and tried to leave the room. “Don’t try that” “Y/n”

Ricky read your desire to clarify in your gaze and with a huff he leaned on the table where he kept all his sketches scattered. “Tell me what you have to tell me, Y/n” “It took me a while but I remembered” Ricky let out a nervous laugh. “And now that you understand, what do you want me to do with this information?”

The no longer handsome black-haired boy who bewitched you at university walked towards the exit door that connected your office and his study to the corridor but soon realized that it was blocked. "Give me an hour, please" "As you wish"

Sitting on the floor, between a pout and a snort from Ricky and tense looks from you, you told your boss for a week how the situation had evolved over the years until your fateful meeting. The boy didn't miss any opportunity to remind you that having a best friend who couldn't use her head hadn't helped your life.

"How much longer?" "Fifteen minutes… Sorry" "That idiot Wendy should be the one to apologize"

Even though you had spent the last thirty minutes finding one way or another to justify your actions of the last few years, in Ricky's eyes you didn't see the understanding you wanted to see; there was an even higher barrier separating you.

"You haven't forgiven me?" you asked, trying to look him in the eyes. "What should I forgive you for? If you forgot me it means you wanted to and if you didn’t realize who I was despite my hair color then I didn’t mean much to you. I may have just been a college crush for you, but you meant, you still mean a lot to me” Was he wrong? No. You had changed, he had changed, but Ricky’s feelings had remained the same for all these years and you had been shaken by a life that had never given you love.

“I… I don’t feel the same. I don’t even know if I’m capable of feeling the same for you, Ricky” “It’s not a tragedy, forget about me like you’ve done until now and everything will be fine” A click on the door lock made you both turn towards the bell: the hour had just ended.

Ricky was the first to get up and head towards the door. He waved to Wendy, who was lurking around the corner and turned to you one last time. “You’re fired.” You picked up your pace, passed Wendy, and, a meter away from the blond, you answered him without fear. “I’ll come back to show you that I haven’t forgotten about you. I’ve never forgotten about you. I may be different, but what was between you and me hasn’t even had time to blossom.” You couldn’t see Ricky’s expression after that last exchange. This was the last time you saw him. And then a year passed.

Life for you went on, for once since your parents had brought you into the world, in a whole new way: you dared to continue your studies in graphic design, now you went to the gym regularly and, even though you still found it boring, you went to high fashion parties with Wendy. What hadn't changed was how you felt about Ricky. You realized only after losing him that what you had felt while being with him for a week had brought out everything you had kept locked away in the drawer of your heart. Everywhere you saw a man as tall as him and with black hair your eyes lit up, only to turn off seconds after you realized they weren't Ricky.

It was during Wendy's birthday party that you heard two of her colleagues talking about the man you had been looking for incessantly for the past year “Shen Quanrui, how funny. I always called him Ricky and he always looked at me badly every time I did it” “Absurd, now he has opened his modeling agency and is looking for models for his first collection” “Oh I can't wait to go. When he worked for his father he made wonderful clothes” In a panic you threw yourself at the two girls who backed away in fear. “Where? When?” “Um… Tomorrow, at four in the afternoon in this area here” the young model handed you a flyer that oozed luxury from every pore. Your next move was decided and you weren't afraid to make it.

So you convinced yourself, but when the next afternoon you found yourself in the middle of all those very tall and beautiful models you almost felt sick. The girls who went first came back sweaty and agitated and shouted out loud that there was a stage outside and about fifty people ready to mock them. What wonderful news.

“Y/n, it’s your turn!” Holy shit. Anxiously, you asked the closest girl for some water and then walked towards the stage, with several giggles accompanying you. The light that blinded you did not allow you to see who and what was in front of you. Only when they threw the light lower, did a lump form in your throat.

Ricky was in front of you, his eyes wide in surprise and his hair black. An insignificant detail for anyone else in the room but not for you. You tried to get the lump in your throat down immediately, but someone with a rougher approach than yours took half the time. “Is she going to introduce herself or do we have to see her battered body?” “Give her time,” Ricky spoke.

It was enough to look into the raven-haired man's eyes to make the lump return to your throat. But that wasn’t what stopped you. The teary eyes were another obvious sign of uncertainty, but you bravely took air into your lungs and raised your voice as high as you could.

“I’m sure I love you. There is no longer anything that can make me say otherwise. I think I love.” The faces of everyone in the room took on various expressions and some began to whisper in the ears of their neighbors. You continued without fear this time.

“I love you, Shen Quanrui. I understood it when I hoped that every stupid middle-aged man had your face, I understood it when I went to see a stupid Monet exhibition hoping that you would whisper in my ear one more time and I understood it when…” Ricky was looking at you impassively.

“I understood it when you ran away to America the first time and I understood it when I was the one who left you the second time.” You were interrupted by a man in his sixties who angrily shouted at the guards to take you away.

“Stop everyone” And so it was. Ricky stood up and with that annoying but charming little smile, he pronounced his final sentence. “I found my muse. We’re done for today, sent all the girls home” Slowly and dazed by what had happened, the men and women inside the theater left. You and Ricky looked into each other’s eyes, alone in your intimacy. “I see that you haven’t changed, you’re always ready to make one disaster after another” “I see that you have changed, maybe that means that?”

“It means that I still love you Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you all this time” He held you in his arms and kissed you for the first time, knowing in his heart that it wouldn’t be the last. A thought crept into your mind. “Oh my god, what we do with your father?” “Y/n I have my own company and we are not Romeo and Juliet, there is no need to make a drama out of it” “Oh, so you are not my Romeo?” Ricky kissed you once more and you felt his smile grow bigger and bigger. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered seven sweet words to you. “I'll be everything you want, forever

[sillygoofyqueer]

More Heavenly Crowyuan thoughts for both you and @someonewhoreadswaaytoomuchfanfic.

As I was thinking up Heavenly Crow Demon ideas, it occurred to me that regeneration and fire are both things associated with Greek phoenixes. Considering PIDW's insane length, surely at least some of the adventures must have monsters cribbed from other mythologies, right?

With this is mind, there is a good chance Shen Yuan looks at his abilities and thinks something like, "Oh, I must have a grandparent who is a many-lived-regenerating-firebird. There sure were a lot of them in that volcanic demon realm mountain range where Binghe met wife 67." and just never question things further. Since Airplane opted not to include heavenly demon crows in his story, Shen Yuan has no idea they're even a possibility!

As sillygoofyqueer noted before, only heavenly demons naturally have Zuiyin marks, but it's really popular for artists to draw such markings on other sorts of demons too. Because of this, I'm fond of the headcanon that all sorts of demons mark their own foreheads either to denote their status or just for the sake of fashion.

I'm sure crow demons, with their love of shiny things, are happy to paint glittery markings on their foreheads, so they might not find Shen Yuan's natural mark all that odd (beyond perhaps the fact he never changes it). For Shen Yuan himself, since he transmigrated in with clothes and stuff, he probably figures the demon he transmigrated into painted it there before Shen Yuan replaced him.

Supposing the other crows do realize Shen Yuan's heritage, one of my many inspirations for crowyuan are the crows in Tamora Pierce's trickster series. Let me tell you, those crows were not impressed by either royalty or gods. If you want their help with something, you need to bribe them with something shiny!

As such, when they look at heavenly demon crows they probably just think things like, "Man, I wish my feathers came with natural gold tips!" and "That guy sure is helpful when driving off invaders!" but otherwise do not care in the slightest... Unless the heavenly demon crow in question uses their abilities to bully and steal from other crows of course. Then they might agree to offer tribute and some token amount of reverence, but they'll mostly just think that crow is an asshole.

I think this is such a silly funny idea as well, and I love the thought of, instead of worshipping the ground that heavenly demons walk on like most other demons, the extent of crow demons' appreciation ends at "...I want those shiny feathers :(" (imagine a whiney sibling's voice as you read that) and other than that, they really do not care about anything like that.

Also, on the topic of Shen Yuan just brushing off everything weird that hints towards his heritage, I can't stop thinking about the idea of him trying to get used to his own body and figure out what perks it has. Every time he comes across something that isn't mentioned in PIDW, he brushes it off with an "it must have been a fluke" or "well, never doing THAT ever again". For instance, when his arm sets alight and it's healed from a fall or something, he kind of pauses before deciding "well, now I'm hallucinating from the hitting my head" and just goes about his day as if nothing happened. One time he accidentally sets something on fire when he's healing (still believing that he is just regularly hallucinating now) and he stares at the ashes of whatever he burned before just gaslighting himself into believing he had a source of fire that caused the flames rather than him doing it.

[sits-bound]

Bound: Dwelling by aideomai

I could not be happier with how this turned out. I used so many new, fun techniques and materials!

The book cloth, oh my god, it's so beautiful. It's Dubletta in aqua/purple. I am mad at myself for messing up my first go at this cover, but it's okay. It's not very expensive and I still have more.

I stenciled the cover. This was the most trying part of the entire process. Last night, I could not for the life of me get the vinyl to cut properly or weed properly or do anything properly, but the first time I tried this morning, it went perfectly. Go figure. The paint is just a craft acrylic in rose gold.

I (sort of) designed and printed the endpapers with my new color printer. I say "sort of" designed because I used the text-to-vector-graphic AI feature in Illustrator. I am generally not a fan of AI artwork, it creeps me out, but I like how this turned out.

I used toner foil on the chapter headers. SO SHINY! (I got a Scotch laminator, and some toner foil from Amazon and it worked perfectly.)

I would say that I also sewed endbands for the first time, but my attempt was not successful. Oh well, nothing wrong with premade ones! Next time...

I also got "creative" with the page numbers and title/author on the inside pages. I am not the most creative typesetter, so this is exciting for me, ha ha.

Everything also went in so neatly and square, and I am just really happy right now. :)

Body and title and well, actually, all of the fonts in the book are Corundum of some sort.

[niby-skaje]

Companions mugs/cups and what they drink, non alcoholic edition.

A little fun exercise!

Lucanis: an elegant, though slightly aged, antivan coffee cup with a slightly worn golden handle. He found it in Caterina's cupboard. Basically what we saw in the game already. He drinks black coffee ofc.

Taash: a large, sturdy stone cup, big but somewhat shapeless, because it has to serve its purpose and stone doesn't melt. A little chipped. Drinks plain water or hot water with some ginger and honey to soothe that throat.

Neve: a simple cup that used to be white, but now has the grey-yellowish colour of something that has been in constant use and perhaps not as well scrubbed as it should be. It is also permanently yellowish-brown on the inside and bottom. Drinks coffee, whatever blend she can get her hands on, and if Lucanis doesn't make it, it's a really bad coffee. Sometimes she will drink black tea for a change. No sugar, nothing.

Emmrich: An antique delicate porcelain liac cup with gold decoration and a handle in the shape of a bone. It's old but in perfect condition, always thoroughly cleaned and kept on a special shelf. Comes with a small plate and skeletal spoon. Likes to try new tea blends, both traditional and herbal, but his favourite is white tea with rose and mint.

Bellara: Elven green cup with some Dalish paintings on it. Chipped and discoloured in places from lack of care. Also has some scribbled notes on a piece of paper taped to it. Drinks elven herbal infusions, her favourite being cinnamon, nutmeg and juniper with a little wild honey for sweetness.

Davrin: Simple and practical wooden cup he made himself, with a small carving of a griffon's feather on the handle, just for practice. Rough in shape, as it was one of the first he ever made. The wood has become a little dark in places over time, but he is careful not to damage or stain it. Will drink anything, but his favourite is strong black tea with lots of sugar. Classic and delicious, and the sugar is indulgent for a Warden.

Harding: Simple metal cup that is sturdy and can be packed for convenience and will not break. Used to be shiny, but has dulled over time. Has a red name "Lace" written on the bottom. Likes anything warm, but since her gift she often drinks lavender, honey and lemon balm infusion or hot milk with honey to help her sleep.

I may or may not draw the cups/mugs, but I'm not sure of my skills at this point. If anyone wants to, feel free!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Shidou loves summer festivals. The streets are lightened by chochin and the overall happiness coming from each booth.

He also loves wearing his shocking pink haori and black nagagi, while enjoying a popsicle and fanning himself with his embroidered soft pink fan. Shidou arrived way earlier to the date, excitement over the moon, that soon waned when he understood that he had to wait for another hour. That's why he is now leaning on a wooden bench while his pink irises dart arounds, full of curiosity for what could possibly happen around them, some blonde and pink strands already sticking to his face due to sweat.

"Hey Shidou!" Ahhh, it's you. The person that never leaves his mind, not even when Shidou falls asleep. The same person that told him more than once that he has no chance with them, but however, go out with him because they hate being alone.

The blonde has to be honest, when his obession over you started he may have "investigated" your life, found out about your strenghts and more importantly your weaknesses, like your friends all getting a partner and leaving you more or less always alone.

You take small steps, the wooden sandal and tight cloth don't give you much leg movement. You stop right in front of him, in between his wide open legs looking down on him.

His irises take you in immediately, absorbing every detail of your body, every little different shade the lights and the moon paints on your face.

"No words from you? What happened? Is all your blood gone to your dick for how good I look?" You chuckle, and finally, Shidou breaks from his daze, popsicle breaking and luckily ending on the bench instead of on his haori.

He looks up at you again, after brushing to the ground what remained of the popsicle. The patter of your yukata is so cute and so you; the love you harbor for bunnies evident in the embroideries of the yukata you are wearing, the gold moon, made with gold lamè enlighten your entire figure.

"So, aren't I beautiful?" You smile down at him, your right hand gently scratching the back of his head, where blonde babyhair escaped the gel he so like to use.

"You look divine." He groans, lips soon forming a smile that show his shiny teeth. There is no weird undertone in his voice, and Shidou notices the surprise on your face, already so used to his wicked mind. But you also know he has no filter, so he must be saying the truth.

There is no other word to describe you, small hair framing your face, light makeup enhancing your features with an elegance, so different from the graphic eyeliner he loves so much to wear, that takes his breath away.

"Oh-" You gasp when you feel his strong hands sliding from the back of your knees to your thighs, groping the fat protected under the cloth. Shidou feels his mouth watering, fingers still digging into your fat, but his eyes never leave yours, trying to capture your every expression like a camera.

Your hand grips the base of his head before relaxing again, understanding he won't move his hands an inch more. His hands open, caressing the back of your yukata, now full of wrinkles for how tightly he held it.

You look relaxed, and he feels like groping again your thighs, imagining how soft they must look without all that stuff covering them. Shidou breaks eyes contact for a moment, head more or less at the level of the apex of your leg.

He'd love to have his head crushed between them, cheeks squeezed by the warm fa-

"Can we go Shidou? Or you wanna feel the quality of my yukata some more?" He finally breaks from his daze, again, to look back at you. He sees the reflection of his face in your irises; a fucking idiot. A child that just discovered a room full of candies and chocolate, that's how he'd describe his face right now. The blonde gulp down loudly, saliva accumulating each time he just glance at you.

You take one of his hand to pull him up from the bench, and Shidou let you do that, body maneuverable like a doll.

"You'd be better than any candy" He mutters, voice guttural. The hand that was still laying on your thigh now is positioned on your back, not too low, stroking your spine without touching the cute bow of your white obi.

"You want to eat candies? I saw one booth with them while coming here, let's go there!" You smile at him, fingers now laced together to pull him towards the centre of the festival.

He gulps again, his heart skip again a beat after seeing your smile.

Something is changing.

[agbpaints]

How to Paint: Canopy Glass (pt. 2)

Welcome to the middle segment of our glass-travaganza! While flat painting highlights is fun and relatively easy for me, it can be time consuming and the technique struggles on models with curved cockpits. Today we're going to be looking at a fast and simple way to to cockpit glass that gives you a dynamic result where the 'shading' is provided by ambient light and viewing angle using Contrast/speed paints and a metallic base coat.

Paints I used:

Citadel Leadbelcher (metallic gunmetal)

Citadel Iron Hands Steel (metallic silver)

Citadel Runfang Steel (bright metallic silver)

Citadel Iyanden Yellow Contrast (yellow speed paint)

Method

Begin by painting your glass areas in their entirety with your base gunmetal color. Make sure to be neat with this step and have some of the color you used for the canopy frame on hand afterwards to correct mistakes. I largely do not use metallics when painting at 6mm scale and misplaced silvery brushstrokes are very visible. You also want to have seperate rinse water for metallic and non-metallic paints for these steps- the mica chips metallic paints use to get their shiny appearance will contaminate your brush and water and can end up cross contaminating your non-metallic paints if you aren't careful.

Next, we'll apply some highlights to the canopy with our silvers. While contrast paint does work over a neutral flat base tone, preshading the model can get a lot of extra pop out of the paints. You might've heard of 'slapchop' speed painting or 'underpainting' where you build up a gradient of tones on a piece before using a transparent paint to tint that gradient as you want- we'll be doing a quick version of that process here, just with metallics. Apply your silver across the top of the cockpit curvature, leaving some of the darker gunmetal color visible on the sides. Once that's dry, apply an even smaller high down the middle of of the silver area with bright silver.

Finally, we'll apply our contrast paint over top of the metallic areas. You don't need to thin this paint, but make sure not to overload the brush. After one layer has dried you can apply additional layers for a darker, more intense color. With Iyanden Yellow I found 2-3 coats gave me rich, bright gold color that I liked but other colors I've used this method with have required fewer coats.

And with that our metallic contrast cockpit is finished. If you want, you can add some extra highlights over top of the metallics once the contrast paint has dried, as I've done with the Katapult, but for more complex geometries like the Caesar I find that leaving it here is best. This method works well on very curved cockpits like a Battlemaster where more conventional techniques struggle. The relative speed of contrast also means that if you need to quickly add acceptable detail to a number of models this is a great way to do it- you can even do away with the preshading I did and just paint over flat silver and get something pretty decent as seen on the Banshee. In our next installment, we'll look at what you can do if you really, really want to put the extra effort in with your canopy glass

[nikjima]

Hey! Don't know if you've ever really talked about your Baldur's Gate character but if you're willing to share, I'd love to know about her! ☺️

Thank you for another lovely ask! 💜 I've never really posted much about Vena, beyond all the filthy, filthy artworks I have of her with Raphael, of course. I'm gonna ramble about her a bit, but if you have any specific questions I haven't covered, please let me know! She's a cambion that passes as a tiefling, as it makes any paladins that cross her path less head-chopping inclined. She goes against her natural alignment - she's good, not evil, and always tries her best to uphold that, despite the call of her own blood. Her wings were cut off when she was a newborn, removed by those who sought to protect her - a cambion child was likely to be dispatched straight to hell, afterall. Yes, there are winged tieflings, but they're not common, she'd be much less conspicuous without them.

She's a bard whose primary tool is her voice, occasionally she's a bardlock (fae patron, which is only mildly less offensive to Raphael than her being tied to another fiend). I'll likely be respeccing her into the college of Glamour once patch 8 drops, as it lines up with her well. She not only sings, but she's a dancer too, hence her always wearing skirts that allow for easy movement.

She's spent most of her life completely avoiding anything and everything related to the hells, as she wants no part of any of it, and fears being conscripted into the blood war, as is the fate of many a cambion. Obviously, that changed when a certain poetry-spouting devil rocked up into her life.

Her canon romance is, of course, with Raphael. Originally she was entangled with Astarion, however upon realizing that what he needed was a friend, not a lover, they broke it off but remained close. Outside of that one relationship, she's had casual relations with a few of the companions, as she's a very sensual individual - her infernal parent was a concubus, and she inherited a significant sex drive from them, amongst other things.

She gets on well with the companions, though things were rocky when her status as a cambion was discovered. (Raphael was behind the reveal, he'd known what she was from the moment he laid eyes on her). Understandably, Wyll and Karlach in particular were not best pleased about it, but as they'd been travelling together for some time by then, and they'd seen her being ostensibly good, not behaving like a typical devil, they gave her the opportunity to show them that she wasn't up to any devil shenanigans. and eventually things were smoothed over.

She loves shiny things, which her outfit can attest to - she wears lots of gold and jewels when she can - a fact Raphael pushes to his full advantage, gifting her baubles and trinkets to coax her to his side. She was nowhere near this blinged out at the beginning of her journey! Her necklace has a devil's face with Raphael's horns, a cherub face just like the ones that decorate the House of Hope, and the pendant from the Amulet of Greater Health (it was meant to be a loan to help her defeat the absolute, but he's never quite gotten around to taking it back, it suits her so well).

She also has a ring with Raphael's face on it (which he uses to help track her, Korrilla occasionally needs breaks to do his other bidding), and a copy of his signet ring (which allows her to freely travel to the House of Hope).

The story of how she ends up with Raphael, despite being good-aligned and having previously rejected the devil part of her is a combination of Raphael's manipulation (he can be very convincing, and she's very taken in by his charm), her desire to feel she belongs somewhere (being a half-devil means she's never really felt 'at home' in the mortal realm, no matter how hard she's tried), and because somehow after defeating the Absolute it became known that the great 'Hero of Faerun' was actually a devil (even if only half), which painted a target on her back and turned many people against her, so the offer of somewhere she could flee to away from all of that mess was all too easy to accept. Once she was within his walls seducing her was almost laughably easy - he'd done so much to help her, she trusted him, the poor naïve dear. After that, she was his pretty little songbird, forever.

Art by Galeo