#fanfic: no eviction notice

[wine4thewin]

When you slow burned your fic so hard that it’s time to turn on the heat, but you accidentally went full blast and now your 11,000 word chapter is literally 4,500+ words of smut.

Jail, oh jail that slow burn for a thousand years while I question my life choices.

[last-flight-of-fancy]

Chapter two of Eviction Notice is up~

[edwinspaynes]

I've been trying not to fan the flames of the NG stuff with useless posts but I feel like I need to say this.

The thing that sucks is that even if one were to give Neil the benefit of the doubt, which he has in no way earned with the way he dropped off the face of the planet, his best-case scenario is "yeah I took advantage of vulnerable women including a fan, a nanny, and a tenant I evicted." Not even to mention the discrepancy between "it was definitely consensual" and the fucked up "I'm autistic so I didn't notice I was violating boundaries :/"

I personally don't advocate for GO or Sandman to be canceled. It's shitty to fire hundreds of cast and crew members because one guy who's already been paid for his work couldn't keep it in his pants.

But I really think that it's important to, like, not start worshipping him again when the new seasons come out and casual fans (who know nothing of the accusations) come back. People ARE going to return, and I'm pretty sure NG will also come back around then and pretend nothing happened. Tell new people WITHOUT HARASSING THEM about this. Don't sweep it under the rug because you want to ask him about established post-canon Ineffable Husbands or whatever. Let that be the domain of fanfic.

[dontknowwhatyouheard]

Something Special 2

A/N: I’m new to this whole fanfic writing thing so go easy on me. I’m very open to feedback. Also, be informed that I’m bad at getting my ideas onto paper but I’m even worse with grammar, so don’t eat me up on that lol.

Paring: Dark Beefy CEO!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+ all ageless bios with be blocked, non-con, Somnophilia, G!P Wanda Maximoff, legal age gap r is 21 Wanda is 38, dark!fic, stalking, cockwarmimg. lmk if I missed something Summary: Y/N is falling on hard times but Wanda is there to pick up the pieces Word Count: 1010

Chap 1 Chap 3

This is all so new for Wanda. Never before has she been so eager to meet someone. After your interaction at the store and your little escapade together in your apartment, she hasn’t been able to get you off her mind. She just knew she had to have you, you were struggling and she needed to save you. Even if it meant asking an old friend for a favor. Wanda was finally able to tear her eyes away from her computer screen as she finally had a plan to set into motion.

"This is all for you, Sugar; Daddy will have you all to herself soon." She scrolled till she came across the contact she was looking for. Kate Bishop. Kate Bishop was the wealthiest CEO in the area and had lots of connections which is just what Wanda needed.  

The phone rang twice before being answered. "Wanda Maximoff, to what do I owe the pleasure?" someone on the other end of the telephone sang. 

"I'm in need of a favor." She let out a sigh. 

"Not even a 'hello' after not calling for months," Kate smugly observed.

Wanda considered hanging up since she despised Kate's arrogance. They were always at each other's throats throughout high school, fighting for popularity. And Kate was usually at the top. 

 Wanda knew it was a big favor she was about to ask for, but she was hoping Kate would take it easy on her this time.

“Kate, I need you to evict one of your tenants.” 

“Wha-“

"I'll pay you whatever you want, please, because this is important." She begs, oblivious to how desperate she sounds. On the other end, Kate sighs. 

"I'm not interested in your money, Wanda. If I evict this tenant you're requesting, I'll need a lot more than that, and I'm not confident you'll be willing to give me what I want." Kate answered smugly, a smirk on her face. 

"Anything Kate, please." She didn't care if she sounded desperate; she'd give anything in the world to be with you. 

"Wands, who is the tenant?"

"Y/N Y/L/N she's staying in one of your brownstone apartments." 

"All right, Wanda, I want one of your companies, specifically your computer engineers."

Wanda's computer engineering firm was not just her first, but also her most profitable. She'd be able to live lavishly and then some if she gave this company away, but she'd take a huge hit. She paused momentarily to consider her options, but she knew she had her answer when she went to her computer and saw you crying because of your predicament. 

"It's yours," Wanda replied, "so consider it done," Kate remarked as Wanda hung up the phone.

"I hope you know how much I love you, Sugar," she whispered as she rubbed her bulge through her boxers. "After this, I'll be able to take care of you and make sure you have everything you need." She said to the computer screen.

Wanda was aroused at the thought of meeting you, but she realized that if she didn't leave within the hour, she wouldn't be able to "accidentally" run into you at your workplace. Instead, she stood up and took a cold shower. 

——-

You hadn't realized how long you'd been crying until you looked at your clock and raced out of bed. You were rushing out the door and hadn't noticed the sign on your door. You could only pray that your boss wouldn't fire you for being late again. 

When you finally arrived at the cafe, you got situated before opening the shop. Your first customer was a familiar face from the day before. It was the lady who bought your groceries. 

"How may I help you today, ma'am?"

 "Why so formal?" she asked, smiling. "I would like a small, vanilla frappe." 

"Coming right up, can I get a name for your order?"

“Wanda“ she said confidently “how much do I owe you“

You smiled at her “It's on the house as a thank you for yesterday” 

She reached into her pants pocket and pulled down and $100 bill anyway “Keep the change, if you want to thank me, you can give me your number”

You were debating whether or not to put your number on her drink as you were mixing it. But when you finished the drink, you figured you had nothing to lose and wrote your phone number on the side of the cup where you knew she'd find it. 

"Wanda," you called out. As she approached the counter to get her drink, her hand brushed against yours. 

“Thank you, Sugar,“ she said before leaving the cafe.

——-

Finally, you arrived home. Wanda has been the only thing on your mind all day. You were about to open the door with a happy sigh when you noticed the sign on your door. You couldn't believe it; it was an eviction notice. You were aware that you were past due on your rent for the previous month, but your landlord assured you that it would not be an issue. You instantly ripped the notice from your door and hurried inside, sat on your bed, stared at the notice, and wept until you had no more tears. What the fuck were you going to do now? The idea of having to live on the street terrified you like no other, so you decided it would be best if you slept so you’d be able to think things over in the morning. 

Once Wanda was certain you were sound asleep. She crept in through your window again, just like the night before. She felt horrible seeing you cry like that, and she wanted nothing more than to soothe you, so she climbed into bed and undressed. She removed the covers from your nude body. Her cock was hard as she went into your pussy slowly. She didn't move because she didn't want to fuck you; she just found this comforting and thought it would comfort you as well.

"Don't worry, Sugar; everything will be fine soon."

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Wolf (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon inherits the Red Keep. He turns it into a sex club. You know, as one does.

Warnings: Modern Daemon x Hightower reader. Smut. Dom/ Sub dynamics. Overstimulation.

A/N: Daemon's views do not represent my own! Pt 2 to this. There is no need to read pt 1 to understand it, though. Also, do not learn BDSM from fanfic.

You sighed. You dropped your head, smashing the keyboard. This was unbelievable. Had your CV always looked so bland?

You erased the keysmash, and put instead, five years of experience as an CDO.

The door to your office was slammed open, making you jerk in your seat. You looked up, an annoyed remark already on your tongue, and froze. Daemon. Because who else would barge in so rudely?

“Your whorish sister is suing me.” He sat down, dramatically slumping down on the chair. “Make it stop.”

Your eyebrows raised.

“Good morning to you too.” You closed the tab you were browsing in, job offers in King's Landing, and looked up at him. It was the first time you had seen each other since the elevator incident. So far, you were unimpressed with his opening gambit. “Alicent is the most monogamous person in Westeros.”

“It was a figure of speech.”

“Whatever. I am busy.” You typed even more furiously. You had all tabs closed, but Daemon didn't need to know that. It gave you an excuse to avoid looking at him. After that afternoon in the elevator, you were too embarrassed to do so.

Despite having been the one in control the whole time, you were the one who felt more ashamed of your encounter. Once the power trip had worn off, and you had faced reality, embarrassment had started to creep in. Sitting in your father's car with a bruised throat and soaking wet underwear had been humiliating enough. Just thinking of it made you hot under the collar, and not in a good way.

Daemon, instead, had the shamelessness of a porn star. To him, it hadn't been a big deal at all, and it showed. He strutted around the building, giving you naughty little grins every time your paths crossed. The only change had come, oddly enough, from following his real Instagram. You had been added to his Close Friends and now endured the terrible, inhuman torture of watching his selfies. If his mirror pics showed any more skin, they would be dick pics.

“You won't even ask why I am being sued?”

You sighed. You stopped feigning typing.

“I don't need to ask. I can guess it has to do with the contesting of your brother's will.”

Good Gods, you had heard enough of that. Alicent was clawing at the walls and frothing at the mouth that she was getting evicted from her home. Viserys had left her a considerable amount of money and properties, just as he had done for their children. But the Red Keep, the ancestral home in which she had lived ever since they married, was going to Daemon.

Your father was impossible, too. The majority of Viserys' share had gone to Daemon and Rhaenyra, which meant they could easily kick him out of the company. If they managed to agree on something, of course.

“It does.” Daemon kicked his feet up, placing them on your desk. He made a show of getting comfortable.

“There. Out of my office. I'm working” You slapped what you could reach of his feet and calves, until he had no choice but lower them.

“Fuck, you are so…” Whatever Daemon was going to say, he didn't get the chance. You slammed your laptop closed with much more force than necessary, making him wince. “Stop that. Seven Hells, you are so uptight. Relax. It doesn't matter. It’s not like you will hold this job much longer.”

“Is this my notice?” Your eyes narrowed. “Because you need to present it written, and I have to…”

“I just mean, when Rhaenyra gets the…” Daemon started saying, but once again, you did not give him the chance to finish. If he was going to interrupt you, you were going to interrupt him too. Petty as it sounded, it brought you great satisfaction to see him squirm.

“When Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron, you mean.” You smirked.

“God, what a mouthful.” Daemon laughed. It was annoying. His laugh was so loud and unashamed. You wanted to punch him. Or, at least, shake him and see if his only two neurons made synapse.

“Whatever.” You started to get up, grabbing your coat. Where were you going? Not even you knew, but it would be fine, as long as it was away from him.

“They could fire you still.” Daemon got up as well, blocking the exit. There was no escaping him, it seemed.

“I'll take my chances.” You snarled. Fuck, you didn't even mind Rhaenyra that much. It was the principle of the thing. What had she done for the company? Both she and Daemon just rode Viserys and Otto's success, spending money like it grew on trees and causing so many PR scandals they could as well be a controversial rock band. “Move.”

“It's still going to Rhaenyra.” Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you in place. His grip wasn't harsh, but rather, a warning. It made you think of the way he had tugged your hair, when you were on your knees… “Your sister is suing me because I want to put a sex club on the Red Keep.”

You choked on air.

“You want to do what?!”

“It's an historical building. Or so she says.” Daemon ignored you completely. To him, apparently, filling one of his ancestral properties with a bunch of naked, drunk people, was the new normal. You know, just what one does, if one is filthy rich and bored on a random Tuesday.

“It is one.” You said, a bit perplexed. The Red Keep was more than a hundred years old. Alicent had taken great care to restore the place, bringing experts from all over the world to ensure the best care for the building. You could not even imagine the look on her face when she realized that not only was she being evicted, but that also, Daemon intended to use her home as his sex dungeon.

How would that even work? Was it legal? Tourists visited the Red Keep, you knew. The place was nice, but it was a castle. You could not picture it as a club, or anything more than the home it had been for your nephews.

“The inauguration is on Friday. See you there.” Daemon clapped your shoulder, oddly sheepish. He seemed to actually want you there, which threw you for a loop. He kissed the corner of your mouth, and left, leaving you stunned in the middle of your office.

It ate at you the whole week. A few discreet inquiries confirmed that yes, Alicent sued Daemon. And then, Daemon sued back.

His official Instagram says nothing. His secret one, though, has it plastered all over. You make a note of it, sure that it will leak before the week is over. You get it right. The week passes in a flurry of desperate interns and phone calls, trying to calm down outraged members of the board. His face is all over the news, and the stocks drop. Again.

Your father is furious. Positively seething. Alicent is no better, especially the more Friday approaches. Each day that goes by, it’s one closer to losing her claim on the Red Keep altogether.

It had been a foolish choice, choosing Aemond as a lawyer. He was precisely the kind of man who never knew when to negotiate. If it had been up to you, you would have hired his associate, Alys Strong. Now that was a woman who you could respect.

You tried pretending deafness and blindness, clinging to the idea that out of sight was out of mind. It didn't work whatsoever. You couldn't stop worrying about what would happen if anyone found out about your rendezvous with Daemon last month.

Death, surely. Either throttled by Alicent, or out of sheer embarrassment of your father learning you had sex.

You should stay away from him. It was the reasonable thing to do. A one-night stand didn't mean anything. Everyone had those. Daemon was trouble. But gods, the look on his face when you had left him wanting. How powerful you had felt. Anyone would have trouble letting that go.

Friday dragged by, and you still had not made your choice. You agonized over it all day. It was only when you got off work that you made your choice. You were going, if only to see the clusterfuck with your own eyes.

Daemon had that kind of effect on you. It reminded you of the magicians at the birthday parties you used to attend as a child. He made you recklessly curious, always wanting to see what would be his next trick.

Deciding what to wear was another agonizing choice. Overall, it didn't matter. You realized as soon as you entered the Red Keep that you were overdressed. If you had shown up only in your panties, perhaps you would have blended right in.

It was tacky. It was tasteless. It screamed Daemon.

The Red Keep layout was kept the same, probably because it was an historical building and anything but would go against the conservation’s laws. All the furniture had been removed, making you barely recognize the rooms you passed. This was no longer your sister's home, but a den of sin.

The rooms were only lit by red lights, the heavy bass of some song that was probably in the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack echoing in the stone walls. You made your way to what used to be the dinning room, and walked towards the bar.

Tonight was meant to be a soft launch, and you intended to take advantage of the lowered prices. You asked the bartender to bring you a cocktail, but much to your surprise, the cocktail did not come alone. Instead, it came with a pamphlet and a small basket, filled with colorful bracelets.

“You have to wear one, Miss.” The bartender said. You stared.

When you were confident about what they each meant, you grabbed a purple one and placed it on your wrist.

“Switch.” Daemon whispered in your ear, startling you. “Are you sure about that?”

“Good Gods! You frightened me.” You complained, clutching your chest. To be able to speak to him over the loud music, you had to lean into his space quite a bit. By the smirk on his face, he was clearly enjoying it.

“I live for that. Frightening naive little girls.” Daemon gave a tug to the bracelet, letting it snap against your skin. “Sure about the color?”

“I am.” You moved back, scowling. You hated that he always wanted to command everything around him. The bracelet on his wrist was dominant red, making perfect sense.

“I would not say you are.” His hands were quick to catch you, one at your hip and another at your nape. Daemon ran a finger down your spine, making you shiver. “I think you are a little princess who loves submitting.”

“I am not a sub all the time.” You pushed his hands away. If anyone saw you practically on his lap, there would be hell to pay. Alicent would throw a fit, and so would your father. Besides, you didn't fancy ending up in the tabloids. “And get your hands off me, we are in public.”

“Look around, you prude. Practically an orgy.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and gently tilted you to face some couches in the other room. There were two women kissing, while a man was kneeling between their spread legs. None of them were wearing any clothes. You swallowed. You had been carefully avoiding looking at the others in the room. “And you are a submissive to me. You know what they say…”

“And what gave you that impression?” Your tone was sharp, but you were not as invested in the conversation as you once were. No. Because your eyes were fixed on a younger man, lingering by the corner of the room. A very familiar one, with silver hair. Was that..?

Whoever caught your attention, he was not allowed it long. Daemon stepped in front of you, blocking your view of him. One of his hands went to your face.

“Looks like one.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, open-mouthed. You hated your treacherous, treacherous body for reacting to it, a moan escaping your mouth. “Sounds like one.” Daemon kissed you, exactly at the pace that you liked. For some bewildering reason, that not even you could fathom, you kissed back. “Tastes like one. Must be one, don't you think?”

Daemon grinned at you, superiorly. Irritatingly, and just like that time in the elevator, you weren't sure if you wanted to slap the smile off his face, or kiss it away.

“I do not look submissive.” You bristled. “What in the Seven Hells gave you that impression?”

“Your eyes are all glazed over. You look fucked out and I haven't even touched you. And of course…” Daemon brushed the slope of your nose with a finger and gave it a boop. You batted his hand away, annoyed. “The fact that you were practically drooling to suck my cock a month ago.”

“First of all, that is not even a word. And you said it yourself. A month ago.”

“What? Glazed over or fucked out?”

“You sound like a bad porno.”

“A bad porno you like, little brat.” Daemon nosed along your shoulder, making your knees feel weak. He had the face of a man experiencing heaven, as if the tastiest delicacy was just there, for him to consume. “Lucky you, I love brats.”

“As if I care.” You did, but Daemon didn't need to know that. Part of you felt strangely pleased at being his type.

Daemon laughed. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“You owe me a punishment. Up for it?”

And again, contradicting all common sense, you nodded. Daemon grabbed your hand and brought you to a closed door, but before you could get in, someone pressed into your side.

“Aunt. How lovely.” Aegon said, smiling like a shark. You felt so embarrassed that you felt as if about to spontaneously combust. Daemon's arm around your waist tightened.

“Dear nephew!” Daemon smirked. “Fancy meeting you here. Tell me, how did you get in? Fake ID?”

Aegon was well over legal age, but he glared at Daemon regardless.

“With the invitation you sent me.” He then waved a hand towards you. “Does Mother know about this?”

“Well, yes. But I wasn't expecting you to show.” Daemon said, casually. Your mouth fell open.

“You sent him an invitation? Are you insane?” You shouted, turning towards him.

“I take it Mother doesn't know.”

“I wasn't expecting him to come! How would I have known?” Daemon shouts right back.

“You are mad.” You detangle yourself from him and ask the bartender for a shot. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

You down the shot so fast, you barely feel the sting of alcohol in the back of your throat. Aegon watches, amused, and asks for a drink of his own. When faced with the basket, he immediately picks a submissive bracelet and slips it on casually.

“Nice place you got here.” He complimented. Daemon ignores him, choosing instead to grab you by the arm.

“I can explain, little Hightower.”

“Fuck, you call her that?” Aegon whistles, delighted. His voice has a hint of awe. “That's dirty.”

“Shut up!” You glare at Aegon. Daemon falls quiet. “No, not you, fool. Explain.”

“I sent one to your sister, to Cole, to your father, to that boy with the stick up his ass, to Harwin and Nyra, to Helaena, to…” Daemon was counting with his fingers, and it seemed like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

“I get it, I get it.” You interrupted. “What for?”

“To piss them off, of course. Gods know, some of those cunts need loosening up.”

“And Rhaenyra? Is she happy with what you have done with the place?” You snarl, a bit of jealousy creeping in your tone.

“Very. In fact, I saw her disappear over there with that Cole guy.” He pointed towards one of the rooms.

“Criston? Didn't think he had it in him.” Aegon comments idly.

“He is dornish.” Daemon interjected, as if it made perfect sense. But it didn't because being dornish didn't equate with wanting to receive whatever Rhaenyra had in mind. You certainly wouldn't be up for it. Your paths had crossed with hers enough times to know that, just as Daemon, she demanded worship.

Whatever Criston was doing here, you hoped he didn't regret it in the morning. Or else, you would have to explain to Alicent why her bodyguard was moping around and hungover.

Alicent. Fuck. Criston wanted to fuck her so bad it made him look stupid, and so did Rhaenyra. Perhaps that was it. Neither of them could have her, so they settled for each other instead.

“And heavy on the guilt.” Aegon muttered.

“Well, dear nephew. As lovely as it was meeting you here, and as touching as your show of support for my fine establishment was, I have business with your aunt.” Daemon's hand presses against your lower back, urging you forwards. You give Aegon a wide-eyed look. He is not the sort to care where others stick their cocks, and you are on relatively good terms, but he could still tell.

“Gross. Does Grandfather..?” Well. No one said Aegon was the paragon of intelligence. It is for the best that you didn't answer his question. Plausible deniability and all.

Daemon and you exchange a look. Your eyes, pleading. His, annoyed.

“Anything he drinks is free.” Daemon grumbles to the barman. He knows as well as you do that Aegon is easily distracted.

“What? For real?”

Neither of you answered. Daemon kept moving, and so did you. He led you towards one of the locked doors, deftly pushing a token inside a slit, and the door opened for you.

Your expectations for what was inside were high. Needing a token to open a door must mean this place is something special. A dungeon, perhaps, or a room filled with chains and leather. Maybe even a bedroom.

But as you have often come to realize with men, having high expectations is a terrible idea. The only thing inside is a cozy-looking couch and a small table that holds a bowl full of condoms and lube. You are unable to keep the disappointed little frown from your face. Daemon had talked such a big game, you had expected something different. Something more.

“This is it?” You say, trying not to sound as disappointed as you feel.

“Yes.” Daemon sits down on the couch. You stare. You must be pretty obvious because he gives you a lazy smile. “Not what you were expecting?”

“No.” Entranced by the way his lips curl, you step closer to him.

“What were you expecting?” Daemon’s hands go to rest on your hips like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“I don't know. Whips, chains?”

Daemon chuckles.

“Oh, sweetling.” He kisses between your collarbones, mouth leaving a trail of scorching heat on its path. You gasp, feeling weak at the knees from the simple touch. Your hands go to his shoulders, clenching and unclenching on his shirt to try to steady yourself.

Thing about Daemon? He is not polite. He kisses your chest and shoulders as if he wants to devour you. Daemon is messy with it, too, leaving you covered in hickeys and saliva. It should disgust you, but it only manages to turn you on more.

The bass pounds outside the room, mixing with the heavy pulse of your blood in your ears. You could swear you can listen to your heartbeat, with how fast your heart is going. Little pants escape you, only encouraging Daemon to get wilder.

He mouths at your throat. He takes off your top, sliding it down your shoulders. You cling to him, trembling and feverish. Your nails dig into the skin of his back, you feel as if about to fall over.

“Please.” You say, and you don't even know what you are asking for. Daemon, though, seems to know exactly what you need. His hand sneaks into your trousers, finding you wet and willing. Your knees buckle.

“Shh.” His voice is soothing. “Straddle me.”

So you do. His mouth goes lower, taking one of your nipples inside his mouth. You give a small, keening sound.

“Daemon…”

“I'm on it.” He smiles against your skin and slowly starts to suck. His fingers move upwards, after collecting some of your wetness. He locates your clit with deadly accuracy and starts rubbing soft little circles.

You mewl. Your hand goes to his neck, holding him as close as you can to your chest. It's not hard for him at all to bring you over the edge. You fall over it embarrassingly fast, muffling a moan on his shoulder.

Daemon lightly bites around your nipple, making you jolt. He keeps stroking you through it, pleasurable circles on your clit turning into painful oversensitivity. You cry out, legs trying to close, but finding there is no way for you to do it with how you are straddling Daemon.

“Hurts. Stop, Daemon.” You complain, trying to get away. Instead of complying with your request, though, Daemon only holds you tighter.

“Now, little brat. Where do you think you are going?” He smirks. Alarmed, you try to break his grip, pushing at his shoulders and even attempting to cup a hand over your cunt. “I have not forgotten what you did.”

You bite at his shoulder, hard. Daemon laughs, and keeps abusing your poor clit. His fingers pinch around it, exposing more of the bead.

“What's your safeword?”

“Safeword.” You mutter back, too distracted to try to be creative. The burning sensation on your clit keeps you from it, rising and rising and making you think you are about to come again. Soon, the pain changes from a bright flame to tiny embers, making your hips chase his hand once more.

“Good girl. Clever.” He kisses your forehead. “If you don't say it, I won't stop, no matter how loud you scream.”

Your mind is at war with your nerve endings, and it's steadily losing the battle. No matter how hard you try to focus on the thought of being unable to come again this fast, your body seems set on proving the contrary.

You want to give Daemon a witty retort. Perhaps, say something about the lines of how he will disappoint yet again. Yet, you are unable to because a shrill moan is leaving your lips, and you are falling over the edge again.

Daemon, though, is relentless. He pushes a finger inside of you, searching for the spot that will make you scream. You try to close your legs, shield your body from him. It’s pointless. He has too good of a grip on you, one hand holding you open and teasing your clit, and the other fingering you.

He definitely knows what he is doing. You are suffering too much to enjoy it.

Your body jerks as if you have touched a live wire, stomach’s muscles quivering with the effort of holding you uprights. Sweat is starting to ruin your hair, making it stick to your nape and temples.

“No, no, no.” You push at him, trying to get away. This time, you half manage, falling off his lap and into the couch instead. Daemon just looks amused, and leans down to nuzzle your belly.

“Thank you.” He lifts your hips slightly, even as you start to try to kick him off. He removes both your trousers and underwear with a swift tug. “This will be so much easier.”

And so, he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, half pleasure, half protest. Daemon wraps his arm over your hip and pins you down. He then takes your clit into his mouth.

The feel of his warm mouth around your clit eases a bit of the soreness there. The pleasure has made you stupid, so you open your legs to give him better access. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as you submit.

He is a dragon, he will tell you later. And dragons eat naive girls like you for breakfast, dinner and supper, if they are stupid enough to let them get close.

Daemon pushes another finger inside you. The stretch feels unbearable, making you try to squirm once more, but he is moving his fingers in a come and hither motion; your body is going rigid, and you are screaming and falling and—

You lose count, after that. Your body feels abused, there are tear tracks on your temples. You feel feverish. You go in and out of consciousness, as Daemon laps at you, fingers you, rubs at you.

Time turns liquid. It slips through your fingers, moments at a time. You are not very conscious of your body, or of what Daemon is doing. There is only hot, molten pleasure and burning pain.

How much pleasure can a body take? Your hands push weakly at his head, moments later, you beg for him to use his tongue instead. He gives you a last one, forcing your body to arch and twist and making you sob desperately, before scooping you up in his arms.

Daemon's hands go to fix your top. You shake, afraid that he is going to continue and torture your nipples instead.

“No, no, no, no.” You chant. “Please. I am so sorry. Please.” You are barely aware of what you are saying. If you could hear yourself with a clear head, you would scoff at this pitiful woman who bends for the simplest things. You would scoff at her, just as you had scoffed at Daemon for being made into a slave to his pleasure.

“You won't do that again, will you?” Daemon licks your tears, and you cling to his shirt in desperation, willing to keep begging if necessary. Pleasure is as devastating a weapon as pain, you have found out. The line between the two blurs until you are not sure if you need his mouth on you again to soothe the pain, or if you need him to never touch you to stop hurting.

You shake your head. You would do anything Daemon wants.

He grabs you by the jaw, roughly.

“Say it.”

“I won't. I promise, please.”

Daemon hugs you to him. You melt, mind and body exhausted.

“You were good.” He tells you, after a while. You are not sure how much time has passed, but your head feels much more clear. “My brave girl.”

You cling to his reassurance. You tell yourself you have done good, that you endured and never even thought of the safeword. That your body was pushed to its limits, and that you were able to conquer them. Still, you ask.

“Was I good?”

“The best.” Daemon caresses your hips, drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of them.

“Thank you.” And you pull yourself together, one piece at the time. Your eyes focus, you can feel the way his chest constricts and expands with his breath. You righten yourself. “Water. I want a water.”

“You are back, I see.” He stares at you with none of the contempt he had displayed a month before. “Cunty little Hightower that you are, used to the lush life.”

“I do not think it too much to ask.” You scowl, more than ready for another round of banter. No matter how tired your body is, your mind is still sharp.

Daemon laughs.

“Get down from my lap and I will get you one.”

You do so, on shaky legs. You sit. Primly, as if not sitting naked in a sex club, but rather at the table of an important restaurant.

Daemon laughs at the sight you make, thoroughly fucked out but so damn composed it's nearly irritating. It almost makes him question if he has fucked you well enough. The tear tracks on your face seem to say so, but your demeanor says otherwise.

He comes back with your water, and you straighten a bit more. Your hands give you away, though. As sharp as your posture is, you are still shaking.

“You could come with me.” Daemon opens the bottle for you. “I would pay you.”

You feel as if you have been gutted. You are more than this, you think. A Hightower, an heiress in your own right. Not a trophy wife, not someone to be used and paid. You have a degree, you are smart. And you have sworn not to become like Alicent.

Viserys had been a kind godfather and mentor to you. He had not been a good husband to her.

“Be your sugar baby?” Already, you feel your walls rising back up. Why would he ask this of you? It must be a mockery of some sort, perhaps he has not forgotten how cutting your barbs to him once were. This must be Daemon getting his revenge.

Your mental retreat must be paired with a physical one, even if you do not realize it. Because Daemon is coming after you, his hands on your hips, pulling you back into his lap.

His face changes to something more serious. He rubs his nape, and you know, only by that gesture, that what comes next will be good. Daemon Targaryen does not do sheepish, you would say if asked. Yet here he is, blushing like a schoolboy. It makes something roar in you.

“While that sounds tempting, I like you too much for it. Respect you too much for it. But the club needs a presence on social media…”

You nearly smile. But you are a Hightower and you enjoy making him grovel. Daemon calls you a cunt for a reason, after all.

“Everyone would say I fucked the owner.” You whine, hiding your face on his neck so he doesn't see the ferocious smile on your lips. He must feel it against his skin, the most beautiful of curves, sharp teeth at his throat.

“So? Did you not?” Daemon asks because he is also an annoying asshole. The remark, even if teasing, makes something painful tighten around your chest. As much as you can pretend not to be bothered by it, this getting out would end you. Your father would die of a fit of rage, your sister would never speak to you again, not when the man you are fucking and working with is suing her to the Seven Hells and back.

Rabbits and other small prey animals freeze to avoid detection. You do the same. As if standing still may make you escape notice, will make Daemon unable to read the lines of your face and body.

“You don't have to say yes right away. You can think it over.” His hand rubs the small of your back, soft and sweet.

He can tell. Of course, he can, if the truth is written on your features so well, you might as well be shouting it from the rooftops.

Daemon smiles. He helps you dress, tenderly.

“Come. I'll drive you home.”

[ttjisung]

BOSS k. jungwoo

kim jungwoo x fem!reader ᡣ𐭩 ceo au written imagine!

"i became the boss for you."

preview wc: 1.4k ᥫ᭡ official wc: ?

in which everyone fears your boss, kim jungwoo, and so do you, yet your reason feels more personal than the rest.

Thinking about how much I love Jungwoo's hair in the BOSS music video which stemmed to a fanfic about him. I'll be releasing the full version soon! Once it's out, I'll link it below. Content warnings will be posted on the actual released version. Hope you guys enjoy the preview <3

FULL VERSION HERE

For as long as you could remember, you had always heard everybody complain about their jobs. As a child, it was your parents raving about another long night shift. As a teenager, it was your friends ranting about getting fired from Wendy’s for stealing a small order of fries. It simply appeared to be in human nature to have distaste towards your job. None of what you heard had prepared you for the disdain you’d feel entering your first official office job, though. 

You had been miraculously hired as a secretary for a CEO of one of the largest companies in the country, which came as a shock to all of your friends considering the job was incredibly strict about who they’d hire. There were always rumors roaming around about the strict boss who everyone either feared or kissed up to, scaring you slightly yet bills were due and you had no other option than to clock in.

The first day was possibly one of the worst of your life, gaining stares and whispers for being the newbie. You had people below your label asking you to make them a coffee, or shutting the elevator on you when you obviously were running to catch it. It was all incredibly exhausting and the only thing motivating you was the thought of clocking out and crying to your cat while drinking a glass of wine, yet this fantasy was also shut down immediately as you were requested to meet the CEO after hours. 

Your nerves were tame at first, possibly from the misery numbing your mind, yet it spiked as you stood outside his door, stalling as you held the handle for two minutes straight. Eventually deciding to get this done with, you opened the door and stepped in. The shiny nameplate that read out Kim Jungwoo taunted you as you shifted closer to where he was. His figure sat at his obnoxiously huge chair, staring down at his desk in a manner that covered his face with both shadows and his own hair. Nonetheless, his stance was intimidating and you wanted to do nothing but submit your two-week notice and run away. Stepping into the room felt like walking straight into a predator’s cave, and the noise of the door closing behind you added to the overwhelming emotion. The noise it made caused you to flinch, and it was then that he finally looked up to observe you. 

Had he not been someone with the power of evicting you straight out of your small apartment with one snap of his fingers, you would’ve swooned. He was beautiful, and it was rare for you to say that about a man. His lips were plump, and you almost wondered if he had put lip gloss on prior to your meeting, considering they were shinier than yours have ever been. His nose could be someone’s inspiration for a nose-job, and if his eyes weren't sharply staring at you, you would compare them to that of a puppy. 

Nothing about him screamed nice though, and the clearing of his throat as he noted your dazed look reminded you that he was indeed not a puppy, and was actually your boss. Immediately straightening out your posture and paying him your attention, you silently scolded yourself for possibly angering him. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” His voice engulfed the room, becoming another trait of his that you’d be envious of, yet this time you knew not to dissociate, shaking your head, “No, sir.” “Hmmm… You see, I wanted to meet our newest employee.” His words were stern, and his eyes remained coldly locked onto yours, forcing eye-contact that made you uncomfortable. Noticing your silence at his words, he tilted his head as if he was challenging you. “What’s your name?” “I-It’s Y/n. Y/n L/n, sir.” You cursed yourself out for stuttering; the last thing you wanted was for him to sense the fear in your wobbly voice. You straighten your posture once more, realizing you had subconsciously curled into yourself as a defense mechanism. “Well, Y/n, I have to say I’m impressed,” you almost thanked him, yet the words that continued made you falter, “One day and you’re already seemingly disliked by your fellow workers. Tell me why.”  “I’m… Not quite sure actually, sir.” For the first time since you had met him, his facial expression changed, his lip shifting to a grin, bunny-esque teeth peaking out onto his lips and his eyes staring at you with an intense look, yet it felt different. “It’s ‘cause you’re new. Always happens, doesn’t it?” You had no clue as this was your first job.

“Anyway, Y/n. The truth is, I wanted to meet you because I was the one who chose to hire you.” You choked slightly as his words, looking at him with confusion obviously etched on your face that made him laugh out lightly, the sound shocking you further. He let out a sigh before standing up and walking up to you, as you had failed to sit on the chair that was put in front of his desk. “I saw your resume, which I must say was impressive, yet this is your first job. Interesting, right? That’s why they all hate you. It’s jealousy, Y/n.” The way he kept repeating your first name felt informal and made you a bit nervous, but you nodded to his words, not wanting to get on his bad side. “Thank you, sir. For umm… Hiring me. I’m very grateful-” “Save all that. I don’t need to hear it. It gets tiring after the hundredth person or so.” Nodding again, you closed your mouth and chose to not answer again unless asked to. “Wanna know why I hired you, Y/n?” “Yes, sir.” “Sure, your resume is something to rave over, although you had little to no experience. Yet, the reason I hired you was because…” He drew out his words, motioning you to come closer with his hand, and you realized his grin had become teasing, almost cheeky like a little kid planning something evil. You were already closer to him than you wanted to be, yet his motion forced you to step closer, increasing your anxiety. Leaning into you, he whispered his words into your ear as if it was a secret to tell. “I have a thing for pretty women in power.” 

Your face felt like it was on fire and shock consumed you at his bold words, considering you could probably file a complaint about his actions and have him go through several consequences, yet it was almost as if you had completely missed what he had said, looking up at him with a mouth wide open. Not only was the sentence incredibly inappropriate, his growing smile piled more unease onto you. “Wh… What?” Was all you could let out, causing him to laugh. His body moved away from yours, returning to his seat. “That would be all, Y/n. It was nice meeting you.” He waved at you from where he sat, his eyes now wearing a fuzzy infatuated look, almost as if you were his boss and he was the worker licking your shoes. The whole scenario gave you whiplash, from his flirty words to his cheeky expression. It was too much for you to handle, already worn down from a hard day, yet the words that followed his only served to add to the stress. “And call me Jungwoo, not sir. Although I like how it sounds from you, I want us to be more familiar.” You were going to faint, you were sure of it.

Walking out of his office, you had to pinch yourself several times to make sure what had occurred was reality, and not an odd figment of your imagination after watching too many work based K-dramas. Flinching at the pain from your fingers twisting your skin, you came to the horrid conclusion that what he said was indeed real, and you were going to have to face him every day for the rest of your employed life. After an hour of debriefing the situation with your cat once you arrived home, you decided to fall asleep as it was extremely late. Your last thought before your head fell onto your pillow and your eyes closed was a confirmation to the accredited conception you had known your whole life. Bosses truly were the worst thing to exist.

a/n: this is for the anon who has been asking for a jungwoo fic ^_^ don't worry i'm still releasing a full series for him after i finish my smaus but that'll take bitttt so i decided to write a one-shot instead for now :3 boss jungwoo save me NOW!

leave a note or message me to be added to the taglist once it comes out c:

[anotherpjofan]

Hi. So. This thought can't seem to leave my head - since the gods hadn't just stopped existing since the Ancient times does that mean they simply stopped creating monsters? Because most monsters were either a product of their displeasure (or pleasure, ugh) like Medusa, the Minotaur and Arachne and Pegasus' brother, etc, etc. There are more demigods why there are not more monsters? The gods didn't become any less petty so.. are there like. New monsters just chilling in Tartarus waiting to be respawned after being accidentally mauled by an enthusiastic 11yo who didn't have any idea what they were doing or what they were fighting. I'm sorry for the long message - this thought was due its rent and this was like its eviction notice

holy shit this is such a cool idea??? i feel like it also gives fanfic writers a whole new area to play around with (in other words more angst) but yeah i love this sm

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Wrapped Around You

you are here - ch. ii - ch. iii

A/N: This is a commission for @mariahmaru . I have had so much fun making this. I love yandere tropes. It fills my love of horror. I want to start posting all of the parts to my fanfics... I think... Maybe it would be a good idea? This is a test... If the community thinks it's silly... I won't do it. Please enjoy.

tags: Yan!Azul Ashengrotto x  Mai Bouquet, stalking, aged up au (they are both 25+) wc: 1.3k+

Mai laid in bed, chewing on her bottom lip with her cider colored brows knit tightly. In her hands was an eviction notice from her complex. She needed to leave her shoebox sized apartment in the next five days. It was just posted on the door when she returned from the administration office of her college. She had found out that her classes had been dropped through an email early that morning. Even though she was just on campus yesterday afternoon. It was short and straightforward. Telling Mai that due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’ she would not be allowed to graduate this year and would have to re-enroll next fall. Even though she had attended each class on time and rarely missed due dates for homework. All of her projects were always graded above a B. Even as Mai pleaded and cried, the secretary claimed she could not give Mai a reason as to why she was being dropped. 

She only shooed the young woman out with manicured fingers as she took another call. Mai now laid on her back, her legs dangling off the edge of her bed as her head swam with what she could possibly do. Ask for more time on her eviction? She couldn’t recall any delinquent payments on her rent. She couldn’t imagine why she was suddenly being thrown out on such short notice. It was Saturday, so she couldn’t speak to the landlord until Monday. Her stomach twisted in discomfort as tears of frustration started to prick the corners of her eyes. It was as though the world had flipped upside down overnight. It was only noon, and she had to get ready for work before 2pm. Honestly, she wanted to call off. Curl up in bed and cry on the phone to her friends about what was going on. It was just so sudden. Mai neatly folded the notice in half and tossed it beside her. Her espresso colored eyes stared at the slowly spinning ceiling fan above. “What am I supposed to do?” She whispered under an exhausted breath. “Maybe a bath might help?” She mumbled to herself before slowly sitting up. Mai had run out of her apartment in a hurry, she didn’t do anything except throw on something decent and grab her purse. The bath sounded great actually. “I shouldn’t call off but I can’t exactly keep going to work if I end up homeless.” She sighed as she began to peel off her clothes. The soft and cozy fabrics hit the linoleum as she made her way to the bathroom with her phone in hand wearing soft pink colored underwear. Mai just needed to relax and think of the next step. Spiraling solves nothing. 

She left her phone on the edge of the sink before kneeling beside the tub on a shaggy, crystal  blue bath mat. Mai twisted the clear plastic knob jutting out from the wall and plugged the drain so the tub could fill. Mocha colored eyes lingered among the many soaps and shampoos cluttering the white acrylic edge. Maybe the bubbles could cheer her up as she soaked. There was now a milk colored bottle in her hands. It smelled faintly of mint leaves and lavender. Something to help ease the nerves as she drizzled the cream colored soap along the warm water. Watching it foam and froth as Mai got to her feet. Next she grabbed a fluffy pink towel, folding it to leave on the edge of her sink with her phone now on top. 

The bath filled as Mai looked at herself in the mirror. She leaned in close to the reflective surface with a frown. Messy hair with ever growing split ends, darkening eye bags, the sensitive skin on her face was starting to flake. It was awful. If Vil were here he would be scolding her for her clear lack of self care. As she gently pulled at the skin with the tips of her fingers, her phone began to ring. Buzzing softly against the pink towel with the screen telling her it was The Orange Bird Café. Mai’s brows creased from confusion. Her shift didn’t start until 2:30. Maybe they needed her to come in a little earlier? She hesitated before answering. Suddenly feeling bashful about her lack of clothes even if this wasn’t a video call. “Hello?” She raised the phone to her ear as she kneeled beside the tub again to stop the water. “You can’t come to work.” The voice on the other end was hurried, almost anxious in tone masked under the attempt to sound stern. “Um… What?” Mai felt her eyes widen in shock. Her stomach started to sink inside of her. It was her manager. Someone kind that she got along with quite well. “You’re… You can’t work here anymore…” The manager sounded like they were having a hard time breaking the sudden news. Like it was being forced.

Something feels wrong.  

“Can you tell me-”

“No. Just… Don’t come back.” The call abruptly ended and Mai’s phone nearly slipped from her fingers and into the steaming water. She placed it beside her instead with a shaking hand. “Don’t come back?” She repeated softly as the sinking feeling intensified. Mai just got fired. She was dropped from school. And she’s going to get evicted in the next few days. Her posture slumped as the tears that once pricked at her eyes began to roll down her cheeks in quick succession. A silent cascade as she stared at the foamy bubbles she assumed would bring her comfort. But now? She felt like they were filling her throat. Mai sniffled and sobbed in the tiny bathroom, resting on her knees as the tears pelted against her thighs and the shagged bathmat. People always say it can’t possibly get worse. Mai wanted to disagree. At least in the moment. 

Her phone buzzed against the flesh of her calf. Mai yelped in surprise, her breath nearly choking her as she stared down at the screen. Her hands now curled into her chest. It was a text. 

Mai didn’t want to see who it was from just yet. But thankfully it snapped her out of her distressed state. She couldn’t just sit and cry on the floor forever. Finally undressed to nothing but bare skin, she sank into the bathwater. The warmth eased her nerves as she sniffled quietly, reaching over the edge to grab her phone from the floor to check the incoming text. 

[Azul]: It’s been a few days. I wanted to check in. I know how busy you can be. 

She blinked away a few more tears and sadly opened her phone, texting back quickly and apologizing for the lack of communication. Mai liked Azul. She liked him a lot. But it was something she had already accepted to be a fantasy. He was a friend and nothing more. But in this moment of perfect timing, the swelling in her chest only intensified. It made the sinking in her stomach lighten instantly. 

[Mai]: today is just terrible. i dont know what kind of bad luck this is but it sucks. you wont believe it.

[Mai]: i got kicked out of school today!!!! for ‘unforseen circumstance’ whatever the hell thats supposed to mean!!!!!! and im getting evicted!??!??! i ALWAYS pay my rent on time and i saw the note on my apartment door when i came back and i cant even see my landlird until mondy and then i jst go t fi rd

Mai had started to cry again as she texted today’s events to Azul. She didn’t intend to vent. Usually she saved this stuff for when she had lunch with Vil and Rook. Her text had become incoherent at the end as she blinked away more and more tears. Sniffling away a string of mucus as she stared at Azuls response.

[Azul]: Do you need somewhere to stay?

[wonderlands-ass]

I am revolted at how little love there is for my bitch Boyz Ivan, al and Napoleon outside of fanfics of al and Napoleon fucking and Ivan just not existing.

Let them be a stupid family with kah >:c

Anyhow I've been mind parasited with a new natm AU.

I present to you, haunted mansion au.

Idea:

Larry has gotten a letter saying someone from his family line has passed a really long time ago but they just recently found there last wishes thingy, in it it stats that an immediate are will receive the deed to their mansion.

Larry and Nicky go to this mansion and they're like "whoa this shit old and gross" when they look from the outside.

But like the inside of the house is like pretty strangely decorated with all kinds a stuff from different time periods and shit.

The person who gave them the actual deed to the mansion (Dr McPhee) says that the original owners wanted to turn the building into a museum hotel thing where every room would be a different time period.

Think for instance about a room for Egypt, this is then decorated in the entire style of Egypt. There would be hieroglyphics on the walls and then also actual artifacts on display (cough cough the tablet for instance).

So Larry and Dr McPhee sight a contract to actually get the place cleaned up and renovated so that plan can actually be a thing.

And during that Larry and Nicky decide to sleep and stuff in the building (idk just imagine Larry got evicted or something). But they start to notice sone weird things going on.

For inctence a armor statue in the hall (Lancelot) keeps moving and looking at them.

Certain rooms have some strange problem's with wind, noices and electrical shit.

just the idea that the rooms haunted by specific ghosts also give people in the rooms the issues that the people had when they died, that sounds really weird to say it like that so immagine the cowboy room got issues with leakage (Jed probably drowned at least that's my head Canon of how he died) and People in that room struggle to breathe. That kinda shit.

But yeah that... That's it.

I feel insane ranting this much about something holy shit.

[skzhocomments]

Broken hearts can heal - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter V - An oddly familiar feeling

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad link

AO3 link

Chapter IV / Chapter VI

---

Chapter V - An oddly familiar feeling

word count: 2.5k words

Life went on, and you found the world so cruel for moving at the same speed without Kibum walking on it. The days went by, and you were now 2 weeks away from your due date.

While Taemin and Jinki moved back to their apartments, Minho decided to still stay with you and take care of all your needs, especially with the due date so close. He didn't want you to be alone, in case anything happened, and the doctor advised you during the last visit to lay low anyway.

One day, though, that false sense of peace you started to get used to got abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Mari? It's good to see you! Come on in." Minho exclaimed, opening the door. You recognised the young girl from a picture Kibum showed you a while back. She was his cousin, and you vaguely remember speaking to her at the funeral, but the memory from those days was so blurry, you weren't even sure anymore.

Mari didn't seem so happy to see Minho or you, though. She looked pale, and she avoided eye contact at all costs, even when the three of you sat down at the table in the living room.

"What brings you here?" Minho smiled, trying to strike up a conversation.

"I... I don't even know... how I can tell you this. I've never felt more ashamed... and... if Kibum were here... he would've never forgiven this..." Mari started, looking down at her hands and fidgeting.

"Mari, what's wrong?" Minho frowned.

"It's okay. You can tell us..." You looked unsure at Minho, who also didn't know what was happening.

Mari hesitantly pulled out a small envelope from her bag and handed it to you, her hands shaking badly.

"I'm so sorry." She burst out crying. "I... I tried to talk them out of it, but... no one is listening to me... all they want is money... his money." She cried and cried, and as you opened the envelope, your heart stood still.

Eviction notice was written in red, bold letters at the top of the page.

~

Eviction notice

This notice is sent to Miss Lee Da-Eun, referred to as "Tenant".

Property Address: XXXXXXXXX

The tenant is hereby notified that, in accordance with the laws, the tenant has 30 days to evacuate the property after receiving this notice.

THE NOTICE IS IN COMPLIANCE WITH THE LAWS. IF YOU FAIL TO COMPLY WITH THIS NOTICE LEGAL PROCEEDINGS WILL BE INSTITUTED TO RECOVER POSSESION OF THE PROPERTY.

Date of receival:

Tenant signature:

~

"Mari... what is this supposed to mean?" Minho asked with a frown, almost snatching the paper out of your hands.

You started trembling. No way you were getting evicted out of the apartment 2 weeks before giving birth.

How are you even going to find a new place in two weeks?

"Da-Eun, please forgive me!" Mari cried and stood up, kneeling down on the floor in front of you. "Kibum hasn't updated his will... and since both his parents passed away, my dad is the next in line to his estate. He... didn't leave anything... for you... and my dad doesn't want you staying in here for free!" She cried hard.

Both you and Minho stood silent. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Of course Key didn't update his will. He didn't expect to pass away on the day he was to get married. No one did.

"What... kind of nonsense is this, Mari?" Your words almost stopped in your throat choking you, but you kept going. "I get it. We didn't get married, so I don't deserve anything. But his child?!" You asked, not even bothering to raise your voice. It was pointless to take your anger out on Mari, who was just caught in the middle of this. "Please stand up and sit back down in your chair." You stood up yourself and placed your hand on her shoulder.

"I tried to reason with my parents, Da-Eun. I told them... what would Kibum think? They don't care. They just want money." She sat in the chair and Minho gave her a tissue box. "They said they would let you stay here... if you paid them rent."

"Rent?" Minho asked, baffled. "Pay rent to live in her home? Seriously? How much?"

Mari hesitated "... they want 4000$ monthly, and they want you to sign a lease for at least 12 months if you choose to stay..."

"That's... wow." Was all you could say. You didn't ask for anything from Kibum's wealth, you didn't want his money. But still, being kicked out of the apartment you shared with him? You didn't see that one coming.

People are greedy, and they would kick you when you're down, apparently. Even people who were supposed to become your family.

"What if we contest the will?" Minho spoke.

"They thought about that as well, and Da-Eun will obviously make a claim, but my parents' lawyer assured them it's going to take a while until paternity is proven, it would be a low priority case, and... it will take years until you get something from them. I would sue them, though. And Da-Eun, if you need help... call me. I will do anything I can... and I'm really sorry."

You stayed seated at the table while Minho escorted Mari out, and your thoughts became big, scary dark clouds.

"Hey." Minho petted your back, bringing you out of your head.

"Yea?" You asked, your voice hoarse. It was hard to not start crying, but it felt like all you did these past weeks was sob. It was time to be strong. Stronger.

"That was... crazy." He affirmed, sitting down next to you and placing his arm on your shoulders, taking you into a side hug.

"Yea. Wow. I don't even know what to say..."

"I can't believe they'd do that to their own family."

"Well, we technically weren't family, so..."

"Just legally. You were getting married the same day he..." Minho stopped himself, not seemingly able to continue his thought.

"Yea. Anyways, not much to do about this."

"We'll sue them. Your child deserves Key's money."

"Fuck them. Right now I have to start looking for a place to move, I guess. I can't pay 4k per month just to stay here. I'm not even sure if I want to stay here. I feel suffocated, and it's so painful to have memories in every corner of this house." You chuckled bitterly. "Maybe getting evicted is a blessing in disguise." You joked, but it was obviously not true.

You had some money saved up, but how long would that last you without working? A year? 6 months? Even less?

And then what?

"Why don't you come live with me, then?" Minho asked, your head shooting in his direction. He seemed serious.

"What?"

"I have enough space for you two, my apartment's in a nice neighbourhood, and I'll be able to be around."

"You know I can't." You frowned.

"Why not? You would love the place. I'll be able to take care of the baby too..." He tilted his head, not understanding why you seemed so against the idea.

"Minho... I said it before... after the first doctor's appointment we've been to together. You don't have any obligations towards us."

"I do, though." He frowned this time. "Morally, I could never let you struggle alone with Kibum's kid, Da-Eun."

"But you also have your own life to worry about. What, are we going to live and raise the baby together? What if you meet someone?"

"Let's be serious, I haven't met someone in 32 years, do you think that's going to change?" Minho chuckled.

"You never know. It might." You shrugged. "What's going to happen then, will you kick us out to the curb as well? I can't go through that twice, and it's not fair on my baby, Minho." You looked straight into his eyes.

"I would never kick you out."

"That's what I thought this time around too. Still, my so-called 'family' did so in a heartbeat. You can't blame me for wanting to be careful. When you eventually meet someone, we'll just become a burden to you, and I never want my child to... experience that." You felt your eyes tear up, but still kept your composure.

"Da-Eun, what I'm going to say might be crazy..." Minho hesitated and let out a big breath you didn't know he was holding.

"... I'm listening." You urged him to continue.

"You said... that time, in the car... that you couldn't believe your son will grow up without a father..."

You nodded.

"I thought about it... a lot."

"And?" You asked, almost in a whisper. "What is there... to think about?"

"I just... I also can't believe that. And... I don't want that."

You tilted your head, not understanding where he was going with it.

"Da-Eun... what if we got married? Let me be your son's father." He proposed, looking into your eyes. You were in shock.

"What... do you mean, Minho? How could we..."

"That piece of paper would give you all the assurance you need that I would never kick you out, and that your son will always have someone there for him... Let's get married, and I will sign the birth certificate, too."

"I can't be that selfish..." You shook your head.

"No. You don't get it. I'd be the selfish one in this scenario, Da-Eun. I want... I want to raise him in Kibum's place. I want to give him the best life. Please... let me do that. Please." Minho begged, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"If we do that, we won't be able to contest Kibum's will..." You contemplated for a bit.

"Hmm... then we won't contest it. It's not like we'd need any more money."

"What about your public image? Your career? What about what everyone will say about my child, about me, about you?"

"Fuck them. I don't care. I will protect that child at all costs and fight anyone for him."

"That's... when are we even supposed to get married, Minho? It's crazy." You shook your head again.

"I know. I know it's fucking crazy. I just... I want to adopt him, and I don't see any other way to do so without getting married to you, Da-Eun. I know I'm asking for a big thing here, and I don't want to overstep."

Minho was right. You could decide any day that you don't want this life and move away with your baby, never seeing anyone ever again. If you got married to Minho and allowed him to sign the birth certificate, he would have as many rights to your child as you did. If you ever got divorced, you would have to split custody of your child.

That was scary.

But on the other hand, growing up in this country without a father was a recipe for getting bullied to oblivion and going through a hard time, as much as you hated to admit it. Regardless of the reason, single mothers aren't respected, so your child wouldn't be either. Having Minho be his father would guarantee a good life in this aspect and especially financially wise. God knows how many shifts you worked to be able to afford just a year of university, and how many more you still needed to in order to go through your plans of not working while in Uni.

Well, those plans are also out the window as soon as your child comes. You can't raise a child alone and go to Uni, not working at all.

Marrying Minho would mean you wouldn't have to do it by yourself, at least. He would be your safety net.

"Look, Da-Eun, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. We don't have to get married-"

"Don't backtrack now." You looked into his eyes with resolve, for you already made a decision. As long as your baby would have a guaranteed chance to grow up happy, you would marry anyone.

"What?" He looked back at you, confusion plastered all over his face.

"Minho, you either want this or you don't. There's no room for uncertainty. For the sake of my child, I will get married to you, and I will let you be his father. But that means you can't doubt this decision. Ever. And I won't, either."

"Okay... okay!" He stood up and started pacing around the room. "Okay, let's get married. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? How are you even going to..."

"Tomorrow." Minho confirmed, then left the house in a rush.

~

Next day came way sooner than expected, and you woke up with a big headache. Minho informed Taemin and Jinki of your decision, so they offered to come get you while Minho brought his parents, all of them going to act as witnesses in the City Hall when you sign your marriage papers.

Everything felt oddly familiar to last time, but you didn't feel nervous, or excited. You didn't feel anything. You didn't bother going to get your hair and make-up done. You simply put on some foundation to hide your tiredness and topped the look with a nude lipstick. You let your hair down, only brushing it, and you weren't sure what to wear. You dreaded opening your closet and seeing the dress you wore almost two months ago when you were supposed to marry Kibum. Seeing it brought back all the 'what could've been's.

You put on a casual long white dress, and a coat to shelter you from the bad January weather.

Taemin and Jinki showed up, and as usual, Taemin just showered you in compliments as soon as he saw you. Then, you got in the car, but contrary to last time, you didn't sing anything. The boys joked around a bit, but you couldn't focus on them. You were lost in thought.

Is this really the best decision? You frowned, thoughts clouded by doubts.

What if anything happened to Minho this time? Maybe you were cursed or something.

Maybe he'd get into an accident too.

Maybe you were destined to raise your child alone and you just didn't get the hint the first time around.

Of course, those thoughts were stupid, and nothing happened. He and his parents were already there when you arrived. He introduced you to them and his mother hugged you tightly and gave you a beautiful flower bouquet made for a bride. His father welcomed you into the family and told you how excited he was to become a grandfather. You wondered if that's how parents' love feels like.

It was surprising that Minho managed to get an appointment here in less than a day. You were guided to a private room and the clerk handed you some papers to sign, which you did.

"You may now kiss." He said, and Minho cupped your cheeks. You closed your eyes as you saw his face coming closer, and just before your lips touched, he placed his thumb on your lips and kissed it instead. To everyone, it looked like you two kissed.

But you didn't.

Still, the boys and his parents applauded and congratulated you.

It hurt.

You were supposed to be married to Kibum by now.

You didn't even get the chance to get to this point with him.

Am I doing the right thing? You wondered again, but shook the thoughts away and smiled as Minho placed a wedding ring made of gold on your finger.

You took a picture together, and you smiled.

All you wanted to do was cry.

Still, you smiled for the picture, posed happily with his family, your family now, hugged the two other men and tried not to think.

Thankfully, Minho's parents had a prior appointment, and you weren't forced to go to lunch with them. Instead, you got home and started packing.

You moved out of Kibum's apartment that same day.

---

Chapter IV / Chapter VI

[landofvinesandmonoliths]

I just made a post focusing on the fourth chapter of my fanfic and some quotes from it, but I'm actually really proud of my work so I'm just gonna go through and put some of my favorite parts into this post.

Spoilers for my fanfic below!

From chapter one, Jiang Cheng: Waking Up

              The man in the driver’s seat turns to face you and you gasp. You are not normally the type to be taken off-guard by a pretty face, but this face isn’t normal. There’s something unreal about the perfection of his soft features, his bright eyes, his dark and shining hair. Atop his head bloom perfect white peonies. And yet…

              Your eyes chase the stems of the flowers down to where they wrap around his neck, too tight to be comfortable. Then back up to his forehead, where more peonies bloom out of a crack in his skull.

              You are at your breaking point. “All right, who slipped me acid,” you growl.

(I'm both very pleased with the prose for the description and also love the way Jiang Cheng's dialogue shifts the tone)

           Wei Wuxian’s expression darkens, fists clenching. He closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out. Eyes open. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. You know the tenement on Qiongqi Way?” Enough people nod for him to continue. “One of my deliveries was taking me in that direction when I noticed a lot of cops just waiting around. I evesdropped and heard that there was going to be a mass eviction, but they were waiting for the apartment super to get back to them with some paperwork. So I ran and beat the super back to the office, got in through the window, and started burning every relevant piece of paper I could find.”

              Lan Xichen slowly pinches the bridge of his nose. “You could have reached out.”

              “Yeah, because the Winter Court loves it when I connect myself to a crime via text.”

              Luo Qingyang snickers.

              “Cool, great.” Wei Wuxian grins. “Buckle up because that’s the last time any of this will be funny.

(fuck cops! Also keep in mind that you gotta have good infosec)

              “Lan Xichen, or, Zewu-jun,” you’re not sure what you’re supposed to call him. “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. And for putting a hole in your wall.”

              He loads a towel and a change of clothes into your arms. “Your behavior was understandable and not reflective, I’m sure, of who you are on your better days. But I am not the one you need to apologize to. After all, sometimes being court leader means knowing how to patch drywall.” He gives you a smile.

(this line is literally so important to me it makes me want to bite things. Yes this is my own writing. Yes i am insane about it)

              It feels real, like nothing else today has. You’re in your body and you’re here. Your feet carry your weight and root you down to the square tiles beneath them. You curl your toes over the grout lines. Beneath the tile is the story below, then the one below that, until you reach the foundation. You can imagine your feet supported by the skeleton of the building, all the trusses and studs, beams and posts. Rooted, down to the earth. Everything eventually returns to solid ground. Everything makes it to the bottom.

(Isn't comforting, that there's always a bottom?)

Chapter 2, Lan Qiren: Haunted

              You sit together at your coffee table. They seem too solid to be ghosts. But what do you know about ghosts—the real kind. You’re a high school principal, not a wackjob with dousing rods and a camcorder. Or whatever ghost hunters are using these days.

              It is 8:29pm. You will not be getting eight hours of sleep tonight.

              “Are you two aware that you’re dead?” you ask.

              A-Huan’s eyes are too deep as he holds your gaze. “We’re not dead.”

              Your voice shakes. “A-Huan, I’m sorry but I saw you die. You and A-Zhan both died eight years ago.”

              He shakes his head. “No we didn’t. That wasn’t us.”

              “Then what are you?” Fear creeps down the back of your neck.

              “We’re the real ones.”

(frankly given that this is a no cultivation urban fantasy au, Lan Qiren's doing pretty well)

           The clock on the wall says 9:10 and you step outside. How many years has it been since you left your house this late? You don’t remember. Long enough that the night air is unfamiliar. The darkness and rain just beyond your porch form a wall. Behind you is all you’ve grown familiar with. Your routines, your comforts, your griefs. Ahead of you is something wild and unknown. Your nephews came to you through that world. If they can face it, so can you.

              The three of you set out. You don’t own a car (never needed one) so it’s going to be a long walk.

              The surface of the street is all streaks of color. Gold and white from streetlights, ruby and emerald from the traffic signals, and all else is jet black and polished. You have never found the city beautiful before. Beauty is found in mountains, in deep forests, in the natural world, in art. The city is a grimy thing packed too tight, blood vessels ready to pop in a large scale aneurysm of congestion and human folly. You didn’t expect a rainy night to transform the harsh greys into a jewelry box. You expected it to be cold and uncomfortable and you were right, but the reality is far stranger and far more precious.

(my love letter to the city on a rainy night)

              There’s so much of this city you don’t recognize. More than once you turn a corner expecting to see a familiar restaurant or store, only to find new construction. Each change brings with it a pang of regret. You haven’t thought of that bookstore in years, haven’t gone out for hotpot in this neighborhood since the last time you tried dating. It is foolish to suddenly miss these places that you’d let disappear from your memory.

              Maybe ghosts are not just memories, but also absence made physical. You invited this haunting in and your life grew small around it. Home and work, work and home. Books and solitary music practice on the weekends. Instructional yoga videos to stave off the back pain. You don’t have any friends, just coworkers you get along with. How easy it is to mistake complacency for comfort and loneliness for self sufficiency!

(I'm really proud of those two paragraphs)

              You usher everyone back under the dubious shelter of the dumpster and pull out your phone. The time on the screen flashes 1:32am. Funny that this is what makes you wonder if you’ve lost your mind. Magic? Other worlds? Your family back from the dead? All that’s fine, but god forbid you stay up late.

(He's so grumpy :))

Chapter 3, Wei Wuxian: (Re)United

              You finish the shower and change into the clothes Zewu-jun set out for you. They’re definitely Lan Zhan’s. You know this for a number of reasons. 1: they’re blue and white. 2: they mostly fit you but are a bit long. 3: they smell like him. Sandalwood and ice.

              Ha! You’re wearing Lan Zhan’s underwear. That’s funny and a very normal thing to spend several minutes thinking about.

(IT BEGINS)

              “Lan Qiren?” he clarifies. “Oh! But you called him Principal Lan! Does that mean you’re in high school?” His eyes are wide with wonder.

              “Yes? You’re not?”

              “Well, I’m only 13, but I won’t be able to go to high school. Which is a bummer because there’s no drama in a three person study group. No good gossip, and certainly no shenanigans.” He looks mournfully at you.

              You stare at him. “How did you guess that I’m great for shenanigans?”

              “Oh!” he claps. “I didn’t, but I was hoping!” He looks like he’s about to say something, but pauses. “What’s your name?”

              “Wei Wuxian.”

              “Well, Wei Wuxian, we simply have to be friends."

(THEY ARE BABIES)

              Lan Zhan strides past the kitchen door and you count all your blessings that he’s not going in there to confront them. He stops at the front door and looks around, calculating. With grace and precision he reaches out and pushes over the coat rack.

              No one is going to believe you.

              It hits the ground with a crash. The argument in the kitchen stops.

              The two of them look out into the hallway. Jiang Fengmian looks guilty (doubly so when he sees you and Jiang Cheng) while Yu-furen looks furious.

              Before either can speak, Lan Zhan clears his throat. “I will be leaving now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

(15ish year old lan zhan knows how to end an argument like a cat)

           “That has some fascinating implications that we don’t have time to get into,” says Zewu-jun.

              “Yeah!” you say like your motley mates haven’t already been treated to your rambling conjectures on the topic while you were running for your lives.

(in any au, wwx is still wwx)

Chapter 4, Lan Wangji: Observing a Change

              “If it wasn’t for the fact that we’re both going to remember this, I’d sit on you.”

              A sound, unbidden, starts to rise in your throat. You choke it off.

              “Wow!” he laughs. “No need to sound that disgusted.”

              “Wei Ying.” There is an uncontrolled tremor in your voice. “You are naked.”

              He laughs again. “Lan Zhan, you’re so funny. What does it matter? We’re both boys. I’ve got nothing you haven’t seen before.”

              But it wasn’t yours! You look at the ceiling.

(i am so meany to lan zhan >:))

             Despite everything, you can feel yourself relaxing bit by bit as his warmth seeps through your shirt. Oh how this is everything you’ve wanted but nothing like how you wanted it!

              Yet you will take it. You are greedy. If he offers, you will take. Hand in hand, heart in hand, head resting against shoulder. None of these gestures mean to him what they mean to you. Even though it feels close to lying (lying is forbidden) you will take it all.

              You were never as poor a fit for Spring as everyone believed.

(spring is the court of desire. The longing, the aching of it! My heart!)

             As its jaw unhinges and meaningless syllables echo through the halls, you wonder if you should feel anything other than calm focus. This is undoubtedly one of the most dangerous fights you’ve ever been in. You are young, untested. Is your confidence unwarranted?

              No. It is not. You drive Bichen into the roof of the monster’s mouth. Your confidence is based in your skill and faith in your training. You pull free before the jaws snap shut. The end of your sleave shreds on the teeth.

(He's so cool!!!! Also yes I am cutting that sleeve on purpose)

              In the dark windows of the train you can see your reflection. Unlike any mortal surface, this dream-reflection comes back true. You are monotone, and your cheeks catch the light, reflecting it back. You and the window toss light back and forth, creating a dizzying hole of endless repetition. Images copied from one surface and returned to the other until they are too small to be distinct. Yet even then the light continues on.

(I like this passage)

           When the lights come back they come with a vengeance. Bright, multicolored, dazzling. Torches, neon, paper lanterns, streetlamps, candles, LED strings. Cacophony of technologies all bent on driving out the darkness.

              As your eyes adjust, you find your surroundings match the lights. You stand in the middle of a narrow street paved with dark brick, and all around you the buildings tower. Thousands of years of architectural styles stacked on each other, eating one another. They lean and twist, blocking out the sky. Above you bridges crisscross the street, random as cobwebs.

              Wei Ying is still beside you, taking in the sights. “Nightless City,” he observes eventually. “Yeah, I can see how living here would drive you mad.”

              You agree, though you wonder if he’s noticed the details. Above you the buildings shine. Gilded wood, clean windows. But down here at the bottom everything feels abandoned. Paint peels, concrete crumbles. The windows are boarded up, the neon flickers. The empty gravity is hard to stand under. How often does the whale fall? When does the very bottom receive nourishment?

(my love letter to the city when it will eat you alive)

            Wen Ruohan may appear aged, but now that you are inside the mist with him, you feel his power.

              “The key to fighting,” Luo Qingyang told you once, impishly, “is don’t get into fights you won’t win.”

              Wei Ying, along with several others, had laughed. But then she went on to show you exactly what she meant. How to read your opponents strengths and avoid them, how to find their weaknesses and exploit them.

              The two of you circle one another. Wielding a soft weapon requires of him the same level of precision the situation demands of you. You are matched there. Committing to a strike would leave you open, but the same goes for him.

              You have an advantage though. This is not Wen Ruohan: this is Wen Chao’s image of Wen Ruohan. And you are Lan Wangji. If Wen Chao knows anything about you, he knows that you are cold, emotionless, and that you never lie (lying is forbidden).

              You feint left.

              He falls for it.

(LAN ZHAN IS SO COOL HE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME)

[wine4thewin]

The epic sci-fi dystopian drama where Yuuji falls in love with a man who doesn't have his best interests in mind.

-------

The final chapter is here, folks. No Eviction Notice is finally complete. When I say epic sci-fi dystopia, I mean 89,000 words of a dying cyberpunk world, full of body-snatching villains that we love to hate. Did I mention it's a tragedy? 💀 at least the smut was lit, right? to make up for the tears?

[last-flight-of-fancy]

bit more sketchy this time bc i've been a busy bee lately. Anyway Eviction Notice chapter five is up, where sora has a couple of chance meetings. Of a sort.

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

I just received an eviction hearing notice. The date is set for April 4 which is only a few weeks away at 9:30 AM. If I am unable to pay $1,610 by that date (because all of March and April would need paid) within 48 hours I will receive an eviction notice with 10 days to vacate my apartment. If/when that happens, I do not have anywhere to go. I will be living in my car while chronically ill (both mentally and physically) and while trying to fight all the red tape to get disability. Being evicted will also mean that I will struggle to find housing even after/if my disability does get approved... if I make it that long. Living in my car will dramatically impact most if not all of my disabilities in a way that means they will progress more quickly and the decline will likely be dramatic. I have told the rental agency already the situation that I am in and yet this notice was taped to my door just minutes ago, so I have no choice left but to beg and plead and try to miraculously find this money and keep finding more until disability gets approved which will likely take at least 6 months, and probably longer.

I’m sorry for putting this in so many tags, I just need it to get to as many eyes as possible. Please reblog or share. I’m also open to taking specific fanfic commissions/requests in exchange for donations.

https://gofund.me/978fb41c

[tiggymalvern]

Want to buy an off switch for my brain

Soooo the Burn Notice fanfic. The quick one shot that I wrote to get it out of my head so I could move on. The one that only needs a final editing pass before I publish it. That one. I woke up at 2.30am with dialogue for chapter two in my brain. Tried unsuccessfuly to evict it until 4am. Wrote from 4am to 6am. Very glad today isn't a work day. I'll probably still publish it as it stands in a few days, just in case chapter two decides to remain nothing more than a skeleton. Who knows? I certainly don't.

[soviet-space-ace]

☭ The Empty Grave of Comrade Rauch ☭

A Deutschland 89’ fanfic (part 4):

A few days later, Walter arrived at Ingrid’s apartment with Max. 

“Come in,” She said to them, “I think I still have some coffee in the kitchen and there are some of Martin’s old toys in a box in the closet.”

Max excitedly ran to the closet while Ingrid searched her nearly-empty cabinets for her tin of Cuban coffee.

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid said, “I seem to have run out of coffee.” In fact, there appeared to be nothing in her kitchen at all with the exception of a pile of envelopes on the table. They were the same type of envelopes Walter had in his apartment: unpaid bills and eviction notices, things that neither of them had to worry in East Germany.

“That is fine,” Walter said tersely. He didn’t mention how for the first time in forty years, he had seen neighbors rummaging through dumpsters for food, or that he had occasionally been tempted to do so himself.

The two of them walked over to where their grandson was playing. They sat down beside Max as he played with his dad’s old train set. Ingrid thought of when Martin would play with that same train set with his aunt Lenora. She tried not to think about Lenora’s dead body on the floor of a hotel ballroom, let alone that Martin may have been the one who killed her. As she stared at the box of her son’s childhood belongings, Ingrid was comforted by the knowledge that he was still alive somewhere.

In the box there was a triangular piece of red fabric, Walter recognized what it was right away. Tears filled his eyes as he held it to his chest. He was only just getting to know his son. He wasn’t there when Martin was growing up. He never got to see Martin as a Young Pioneer wearing this neckerchief. His son lived most of his life without a dad and only learned that he had one after Walter sent him to West Germany as a spy. This was Walter’s greatest regret. Now he was given a second chance to be the father he never was for his own son. 

“Max, do you want to be a Young Pioneer of the German Democratic Republic?” Walter asked his grandson.

“Yes, Grandpa!” Max said excitedly.

“Alright then,” Walter said with a slight smile as he tied the red neckerchief around Max’s neck. “ I will say ‘For peace and socialism, be ready’, and you will say ‘always ready’ and raise your right hand to your forehead.”

“For peace and socialism, be ready,” Walter said as he forced a smile.

“Always ready!” Max responded cheerfully as he gave the Young Pioneer’s salute.