#making brooding in the dark look fashionable

[periodcostumefantasylover]

Ben Barnes as the Darkling in his black golden kefta in Shadow and Bone Season 2

[fear-is-truth]

𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 – nicholas alexander chavez x fem!reader

summary — you’re a rising pop star and best friends with cooper koch. when you visit him on set of “monsters”, he introduces you to his co-star. / wc: 1.9k

tags — fluff. not proofread. english is not my first language

05/16/2024

The warm, late afternoon sun beat down on the set of Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story, where the buzz of production crews filled the air. You stepped out of your car, smoothing down your blouse as you made your way through the maze of trailers. You were here to see your friend Cooper Koch, who was playing Erik Menendez in the docuseries. He had invited you to visit him on set, and you hadn’t seen him in months. As you approached the craft services table, a familiar voice called out to you.

“Yo, there she is!” Cooper exclaimed happily, rushing over to scoop you into a bear hug. You laughed, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Hey!” you pull back slightly to get a good look at him. Even in character, with his hair styled in a very 1980s fashion and wearing the sharp suit of Eric Menendez, he still had the lighthearted energy that you adored.

“How’s it going, ‘Erik Menendez’?” He shrugged, letting out a playful sigh. “You know, just emotionally preparing for a murder trial.” He looked around, then nodded his head toward a nearby tent. “Come meet Nicholas. He’s playing my brother.” Following him across the set, you spotted Nicholas sitting alone, flipping through his script. Even off-camera, he looked striking: sharp jawline, dark, neatly styled curls, and an air of seriousness. The fitted suit he wore only added to the whole intense vibe, his features tight with focus.

“Hey Nic,” Cooper called out, breaking the actor’s concentration. “This is y/n l/n, pop sensation and my dear friend. y/n, meet Nicholas—my on-screen brother.”Nicholas stood up, a little stiff, offering you a polite smile and extending his hand. “Hey there, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you said, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but quick, his expression serious and distant, almost cold. You let go, your own smile faltering slightly as you glanced at Cooper. Nicholas excused himself almost immediately, returning to his script as if he was still lost in Lyle’s world. You raised an eyebrow at your best friend.

“He always this… serious?” Cooper chuckled. “He’s in serious actor mode right now. Give it time, he’s actually an unbelievable goof once he’s done being all ‘Lyle Menendez on trial.’” You shot him a skeptical look.

.

You ended up visiting the set a few more times that week. Cooper always made you feel welcome, but Nicholas? He was always in the zone—focused, methodical, brooding. There was something almost intimidating about his presence, even though you knew it was probably just him getting into character. But still, it didn’t make for easy conversation.

.

One afternoon, you sat beside Cooper during a break, watching as Nicholas sat a few feet away, quietly reviewing his lines again. You nudged Cooper. “Does Nicholas ever… like, smile? Or even talk off set?” He snorted. “Told you, once he’s out of character, he’s cool. He’s just locked in right now.” You leaned back. “Sure, but it’s been days, and I feel like I’ve barely heard him say more than ten sentences to him. I’m starting to think either he hates me, or he’s got a permanent serious face.” Cooper just grinned. “Give it time. He’ll warm up. Trust me.”

It wasn’t until later in the week that you finally got to see what Cooper had been talking about. It was late, and most of the cast and crew had already cleared out for the day. You were waiting for Cooper to finish up with a quick scene when you noticed Nicholas walking toward you, hands shoved into the pockets of his suit pants. He plopped down on the bench next to you, and he looked worn out, his usually composed expression softening as he leaned back and let out a sigh.

“Long day?” You asked. He laughed dryly, a sound that was low and tired before replying. “You have no idea.” He looked over at you, and for the first time, his face softened. “I feel like I owe you an apology.” You blinked. “for what?”

“For being… distant. Weird. Cold, even,” he said, running a hand through his dark curls. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just… I needed to focus.” You frowned. “On the role?”

“Yeah, on the role… but also, I just went through a breakup,” he admitted, his eyes flicking to the ground as if saying it out loud made it harder to hold back. “I was kind of using that energy to dive into Lyle’s head. You know, put it all in the work. I didn’t want to get distracted. Especially not by… well, by a pretty girl on set.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a strange warmth creep into your chest. “A pretty girl?” Nicholas gave a small, sheepish smile, finally meeting your gaze. “Yeah. You.”

“Wow,” you said, pretending to be offended as you put on a mock-serious tone. “So what, you’re saying you don’t hate me? Or my music?”

His eyes widened, panic flashing in them. “No! God, no. I don’t hate you, and I definitely don’t hate your music.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not it at all. I just… didn’t want to get in my own way, you know? Especially after the breakup. I thought if I let myself get distracted, I’d fuck everything up. But it’s been eating at me. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was pushing you away.”

The honesty in his voice surprised you.“I get it. I really do. I’m just glad it wasn’t personal. I was starting to think maybe you thought I was annoying. That you hate me or my music.” He grinned, visibly relaxing for the first time. “Trust me, neither. I’ve actually been dying to talk to you, but I’m terrible at switching gears. It’s hard for me to get out of character when we’re filming.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you teased lightly, nudging him with your shoulder. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Being a distraction doesn’t sound too bad.”

He laughed, the tension finally lifting between you both. “You’re more than a distraction. That’s why it’s been so hard to focus around you.”

Suddenly, the distance that had been between you two these past few days didn’t seem so far anymore.

“Friends?” you asked, extending your hand. He smiled, shaking your hand firmly but gently.

“Friends. For now.”

After that conversation, your dynamic with Nicholas shifted dramatically. What started as a tense, awkward distance between you two morphed into something much warmer. You found yourselves hanging out more, both on and off set. Cooper would tease the two of you endlessly, claiming he was the reason for your sudden ‘best friend’ status.

You quickly realized how sweet Nic was—thoughtful, always paying attention to the smallest details. Whenever you sat around with the cast, he’d ask if you wanted a snack or offer you his jacket when the set AC was too cold.

It became this easy, light friendship. But there was something else there. You knew it, and by the way his gaze would linger on you when you laughed or the casual touches that became more frequent, you had a feeling he knew it too.

Then one day, as you were scrolling mindlessly through social media, you saw your name trending—again. Your new album had just hit the charts a week ago, and it was all anyone could talk about. One song in particular, a love song that was a bit more sentimental than your usual style, had skyrocketed to number one on Billboard. Everyone was dissecting it, trying to figure out who it was about, but you’d stayed quiet. Part of you wasn’t even sure if you’d admit it, especially to the person it was written about.

That night, you were at Nicholas’s place at the hotel for a small get-together with some of the cast and crew. The two of you had slipped away to the balcony for some fresh air, away from the noise and chatter inside.

“So…” he started, leaning against the railing with a crooked smile. “I, uh, listened to your album. Pretty much the whole thing.” You looked up at him, grinning. “Oh? What’s the verdict?” “It’s incredible, honestly,” he said, sounding genuine. But then, he hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. “But there’s this one song—uh, the last one? ‘Silver Linings?’” He raised an eyebrow, clearly fishing for something. You felt your heart skip a beat. Of course he’d pick that song. “Yeah?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your stomach was doing flips. You knew where this was going. “What about it?”

“Well… I might be totally off-base here, but… the lyrics…” He trailed off, his cheeks growing into five shades of pink. “I mean. Call me crazy but, was that song… about me?” Of course he would pick up on it. You hadn’t exactly been subtle in your songwriting, but you didn’t expect him to ask about it, especially like this. He had that hopeful, boyish grin on his face now, like he was waiting for you to admit it.

And honestly? You were tired of dancing around it.

Instead of answering, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his. Nicholas reacted instantly, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. His other hand rested on your waist, grounding you in the moment as your body melted into his. There was something so gentle yet eager about the way he kissed you—like he’d been holding back for so long and finally allowed himself to let go. His thumb brushed the nape of your neck, sending pleasant jolts of anticipation down your spine and warmth in your stomach. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. You stared up at him, breathless, fingers still clutching his shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

present day

Nicholas was lying beside you, both of you in matching pink pyjamas, that he’d insisted on getting when you went shopping together. You were curled up in the crook of his arm, head resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. His fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on your arm, the simple motion soothing.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft in the quiet, vast room, “I never thought I’d be the kind of guy to wear matching hello kitty pyjamas with my girlfriend.”

At this, you laughed, lifting your head to look at your boyfriend. “Don’t act like you didn’t pick these out.” “Fine,” he conceded, brushing a hand through his messy curls. “I did. But only because you look cute in them.”

“Right, because that’s why you’re wearing them too?”

“I wear them because I’m committed to the bit,” he joked, pulling you closer so he could press a kiss to the top of your head. Nestling back against his chest, you let out a soft sigh. “Do you ever think about when we can stop hiding this? Us?” his fingers stilled their movements and rested on your arm. “Yeah, I think about it a lot too,” he admitted. “But… we’ll get there. We’ll figure it out.”

“I know… It’s just so hard sometimes.” You whined. He must have sensed the frustration your tone because he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “I know, baby.” His voice was soft, soothing. “But until then, I get to have you all to myself, like this.” Nicholas smirked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip. “Not the worst deal.”

MLIST.  fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Pile: Your Future Fashion Choice +Love interest and Lifestyle. [Girls Edition]

Top Left to Right= Pile 1->Pile 2. Bottom Left to Right= Pile 3->Pile4.

Introduction

Pick one of the Images above and you will receive some outfits inspo that will suit you the best in the future. You will also receive a reading on your potential love interest and your lifestyle.

================================================

Pile 1

Your future style exudes an office siren and badass villain energy, with a preference for a dark, sophisticated color palette—think blacks, deep reds, maroons, greys, with accents of white and gold. You might accessorize in silver occasionally, and a bold red lip will likely be your go-to. Even on a minimal makeup day, a statement accessory could add that extra spark. This overall vibe will be strikingly sharp, almost vampire-esque, with a confident boss persona that draws attention the moment you walk in. Picture yourself in a high-powered corporate setting that requires formality, yet you’ll effortlessly exude that “high-value” look.

Interestingly, this era could open doors to a potential workplace romance. Picture a formal work event where you catch the eye of a charming individual—someone who wears glasses, has messy, dark curly or straight slick hair [Think of someone with a wolfcut or think of Prince Charmont from Ella Enchanted] , and a great personality with an introverted, brooding vibe. They might hold a senior role, like a project manager or supervisor, and have a naturally appealing charisma that others admire. Despite their introverted nature, they show a sweet nervousness around you that’s endearing. Your persona during this time might be a little sharper and more direct—focused on making moves and cutting distractions.

This phase may come after a breakup or a temporary break from a relationship that was overwhelming. This prior partner may attempt to re-enter your life, but by then, you’ll have met this new, more balanced person who feels refreshingly easy to be around. You’ll trust your instincts and follow your own path, even if it’s full of unexpected twists!

================================================================================================

Pile 2

When you adopt the cozy, layered looks in the images below, it might signal a season where you crave more time at home. You'll likely prefer staying in but, on those occasions when you do go out, you'll look your absolute best, like you just stepped off the set of a fall-themed movie—very "Gilmore Girls." During this phase, your focus could be on a significant project, such as a college assignment, work project, or a challenging exam. This period is all about staying single, striving toward future goals, and building a clear vision of your success, even if it feels just out of reach for now.

In terms of romance, no specific person catches your attention, though a few people might find you quite charming. However, you’re discerning, weighing any potential connections against your ideal partner. One person, in particular, may be interested, but they don’t quite align with your ambition or vision for the future. Though they’re attractive, kind-hearted, and you share great chemistry, their lack of drive doesn’t fit with your goals.

Despite how well you get along, you ultimately decide to move on, seeking something bigger and better aligned with your vision. Though a tough, perhaps even cold choice, this person will understand, showing emotional maturity even if they’re briefly heartbroken. You might even give them a meaningful parting gift, ending things on good terms. For now, you’ll continue your journey as an “Autumnal Fairy,” focused on your dreams, knowing that in time, a more suitable match will come along.

================================================================================================

Pile 3

Unlike the other piles, you’re embracing an avant-garde style, experimenting with accessories and layering pieces that you feel harmonize creatively. You’re drawn to a wide range of colors, thinking, “What’s life without color?” This shift reflects your desire to create a more vibrant life, filled with happiness and lively connections. Expect to add graphic-print dresses and colorful, patterned skirts to your wardrobe.

Through this vibrant energy, you may serendipitously meet someone whose grounded style—favoring blacks and earthy tones—contrasts yet complements your own. This person, with tan skin and a captivating smile, is drawn to the radiance you bring. Your charm and lively conversations will leave a lasting impression, making you feel like their favorite book, a story they can’t put down. They’ll be smitten by your style and personality, enchanted by your unique way of navigating life.

Enjoy this exciting, colorful phase—cheers to what’s ahead!

================================================================================================

Pile 4

It seems you’re headed for an all-pink or mostly pastel tones typa phase in the future! You might have felt drawn to another style as well, so expect to mix up your aesthetics often, making this time especially fun. You’ll be leaning into a “doll” look, inspired by Bratz or Barbie, with a wardrobe full of pastel tones. Your vibe will likely be sweet and demure, with favorite spots to visit with friends, like cozy cafes, grocery store runs, late-night drives, and park picnics. Theme parks might also be on your list!

During this phase, there’s a significant person by your side—a taller, older partner who is strong, protective, and deeply loyal. With a cooler, steady personality, they’re both a provider and a devoted companion who treats you like royalty, always willing to support and spoil you. If you’ve manifested this connection, it’s clear your efforts have worked, as this person truly feels like a keeper.

You’ve got this—go get that bag, sis!

[eccentricallygothic]

When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.

If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)

He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.

Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 

You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 

Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 

The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 

One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.

Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.

Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.

Soldat feels something stir within himself.

Something his masters did their best to suppress. 

Not that they would be doing any more of that. 

They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.

His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 

You are laughing.

At your friend that is throwing up.

Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 

A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  

His eyes scan your form. 

Beautiful. 

His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;

Mine.

Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.

But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 

And it's time to go home.

But a home is not walls and concrete. 

It is the people that live in it. 

His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.

James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 

And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.

For what is a structure without its pillars?

He had plundered them single handedly. 

And now he was a slave no more.

James would live, and he would take.

Just as had been taken from him.

You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.

As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 

But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.

Right?

The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.

The third was the window of your room that was open wide.

But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 

You should have taken notice of the signs. 

How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 

Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 

Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 

And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 

When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 

You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.

What even happened? 

You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 

But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 

The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 

A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.

You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.

You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.

But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 

As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…

Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–

Or, rather, the last time you were awake.

Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 

Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.

It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.

With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.

"Who the hell are you?" 

He sighs. 

"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"

The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 

Your choice of words is much unappreciated.

"Good little wives don't ask questions." 

In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.

Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?

He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.

After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.

He is too close. 

There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.

The shock on his face is evident.

He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 

You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.

James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.

"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.

Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.

You run without looking back. 

The man is not chasing you like you expected. 

But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 

Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 

You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 

Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.

Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.

A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.

That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 

You ran into the jungle for some cover.

Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.

Your body is weak and confused. 

Many hours pass.

You wander and starve.

You hide and shake.

You tip toe and give up.

There are wild animals all around you.

You can hear them.

It's terrifying. 

So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.

Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 

"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.

He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 

"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 

It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 

"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 

He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.

"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 

He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.

You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.

Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 

He tells you your rules as he does so.

"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 

Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.

But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.

A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.

"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 

Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.

You don't give up easily, though.

You try to run more times than you can keep count.

Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.

Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.

And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 

But you don't know when he does it. 

So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 

Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.

Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.

He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 

James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 

He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 

His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 

"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 

Today, though, something different happens.

You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.

How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.

The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.

If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 

No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.

Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.

When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.

You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.

Has to be.

You have no choice.

And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 

While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 

How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.

The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 

How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.

Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 

You don't get him sometimes.

His morals are as mysterious as him. 

Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.

Your tears don't effect him. 

But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.

It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  

The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.

You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.

James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 

After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.

Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.

Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.

"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.

It had been a proud discovery of yours.

James always gave in a little whenever you used it.

"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.

Fuck.

"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"

"What about it?"

You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.

"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.

But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.

Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.

Fuck. 

Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.

Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.

You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.

The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 

It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 

James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.

You had done so in the past as well. 

But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.

It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.

Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.

And then comes the ultimate test. 

Which decides the course of your future with him.

He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.

It isn't a usual occurrence. 

But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 

While he had a metal arm himself…

You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 

It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.

"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 

Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.

But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.

A motorboat. 

Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.

It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.

You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 

A lot goes through your mind.

Flashbacks play before your eyes.

It is almost a full circle moment. 

And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 

His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.

"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 

The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.

"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 

"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 

"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"

You two just stare at each other for a while. 

No words exchanged.

Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.

"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."

He has never spoken this earnestly before.

"I just realized that I do too."

James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 

He tightens his own arms around you gladly.

He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 

The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.

Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.

It was a test and you passed. 

As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 

By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.

.

What do you think hAH-

[nezuscribe]

toji x reader (mdni, 18+)

your parents set you up to marry some snobby rich guy when all you want is toji (toji is uncharacteristically soft in this get over it)

“toji! toji, would you please open the door!" your fist pounded on the red chipped paint, sopping wet as the rain pelted down your face, mixing with some of your tears as you shivered in your thin shirt, clearly not dressed for the occasion.

you didn't know if he was home or not, but you were desperately hoping that he was.

you knew it was wrong coming back to this place, especially since the last time you saw him you told him to never look at you again, but you didn't know anywhere else to go in this town.

the field around you moved violently with the winds, and the porch light was still off. his old mustang was parked outside, so you knew he had to be in there, somewhere.

"toji, please, i'm freezing and it's dark!"

you were sure that if he didn’t open up you’d have to make some room in the little shed he had in the front because there was no way you’d be driving home alive with the rain about to come, but before you went plotting about how to fashion a tarp into a blanket, the door swung open.

the first thing you noticed was that he didn’t seem too pleased to see you, his eyes blazing into a glare, brows furrowed down the middle as the two of you just looked at each other.

it had been weeks since you had last seen him, and if you didn’t know any better, the dark circles under his eyes might have mirrored yours.

you longed to kiss it.

"why are-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you hurled yourself into his chest, your arms gripping onto him as he stumbled back inside.

you never would have thought that you’d miss the faint smell of smoke, or the whiskey lingering around his lips, but you hoped that it would never leave your memory.

sobbing as you clung onto him tightly, you had no idea what expression had taken over his face. was he angry or shocked? you knew you were getting his shirt wet, your fingers gripping onto his back as he stayed quiet, the only thing filling the vacant room being your wet sniffles.

slowly, you felt him move around a bit, giving in as he pulled you deeper into his chest. he patted your back as he shut the door behind you, eyes darting over your figure to make sure everything was okay.

"you okay?"

you shook your head, still hiding in his chest, and he nodded. he knew that much, but at least you had the vicinity to reply. he was worried that you had been petrified.

"want some tea?'

you shook your head again, still clinging onto him, perhaps even tighter than before.

he took in a sharp breath, not knowing what to do with you. it had been weeks since he last saw you, although, in a much different state.

"sweetheart," he muttered lifting your chin up with his thumb so he could see your face, the air knocking out of his lungs as he was once reminded of just how beautiful you are, even with tear tracks down your cheeks, "you 'gotta talk to me."

you sniffled, your lashes fluttering up and down as you fell back on his chest, your cheeks smushed in and your breaths came out in heaves.

"daddy set me up with him," you finally said, voice coming out muffled, "the wedding's in december."

his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you in impossibly closer to him.

toji had been your "summer fling", or so your parents liked to call him. your parents had bought a summer home a couple of years ago and so every year since then, for a couple of months, you and your family would stay in this little town.

this year shouldn't have been different from the last one. in fact, the first couple of weeks there are fine. you easily find some people within your parent's circle, but it wasn't fun yet, it wasn't summer.

that is until you bump into a man who's friends with your friend's boyfriend (he was also third-wheeling with you on their date).

he's tall and brooding and most definitely wouldn't have looked your way if not for the predicament you were in. he gave the aura that he hated old money and you along with it, but for some reason, the scar on his lip twitched into a tiny smile as you kept up with his humor with witty remarks.

weeks following that were filled with him chasing after you as you giggled uncontrollably, not used to the giddy feeling that filled your chest whenever he tackled you down, holding you close to his chest as he littered kissed all over your face.

you knew it was wrong, at least by your parent's standards, but you didn't care all that much. you liked the dirt under his nails and the gruffness in his voice, it was so different from the guys you grew up with.

and despite his outward appearance he was so sweet. he may not have shown it much, but he held you close to him, attached by the waist as he whispered lame jokes in your ear and bought you caramel apples whenever you craved them.

it could have been puppy love but deep down you knew it wasn't. his lips lingered far too long for puppy love

and when your parents found out they were livid. it was a complete disgrace for somebody with the likes of you to be fooling around with somebody from the likes of him, and it only took a few meetings with your parents and a few arguments that left you in tears in him seething before you broke it off, promising that if you ever saw him again you'd shave his head.

but here you were, and his head was still full of hair.

"what's his name?" he asked, his voice gruff, and heavy as you looked up, wiping your nose again as you blinked.

"um," you racked your mind for a few hours ago, the screaming match you had with your parents fresh in your head as you gnawed on your lip, "satoru...something, i don't remember."

his eyes darkened, wiping the tears off of your face as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"your folks know that you're here?" his voice grew gentle, trying to keep it together for your sake, and you shook your head once again. you felt another wave of tears coming, and it took a lot of composure to not break down.

"no, i told them to go to hell. m-maybe they'll go searching there first," you murmur, a little grin making its way onto his face as he leads you through his home, the comfy sight making you feel at ease.

you found yourself on his couch, the same one from a few weeks ago, the same one where he...

"i'll go get you some clothes-" but you stopped him from leaving, tugging on his shirt to keep him in place.

"stay," you say, and he had no fight in him to deny you of your request. not with the way you looked at him. never when it came to you.

he gives you a tight nod, sitting across from you, careful not to be too close as he glances at the clock. it's late, and with the way the rain is pouring outside he'd be damned if he let you go back home in this weather. he'd rather take the claims of being sued by your father and let you sleep here than have you leave.

you look at your hands clasped in your lap, not saying anything about his distance, but feeling it tenfold when he sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to grapple with this situation.

"we're leaving two days from now," you say hurriedly, glancing at him quickly and then back to the ground, not knowing what else to do.

his eyes squint, brows crease down the middle at your words. he felt his chest grow heavy, and he can't remember the last time somebody had this sort of effect on him.

"thought you were leaving in a month?"

you shake your head, wiping at your eyes as you sniffle.

"my parents wanted me to meet...him."

his tongue pokes at his cheek, and he wants a scotch right now. fuck it, he'll take some vodka if he had any, but he finished the little bit remaining after the last fight the two of you had.

"i didn't mean what i said," you sputter out again, your eyes darting to his as you shift on his couch, "i don't hate you toji, i don't hate you at all. i was mad, 'nd i was mad at my parents and at you for what they told'ya to say, but i'm not mad at you, i love you, and i want to-" he doesn't let you finish, moving the two quick steps that separated the two of you as his face leans down to yours, his lips cutting you off.

you squeal a bit in surprise, clutching onto his shirt as he sets himself down, moving you with his own strength onto his lap as he never disconnects from you.

the two of you were basically feverish, feeling as though if you stopped for a second the world would stop spinning and you'd be forced to find each other again.

your spit mixed with his, your tears staining his cheeks as he huffed against your lips, his tongue fighting yours as he pushed his way into your mouth, his fingers wrinkling the expensive fabric of the dress that was splayed over your legs.

your fingers clutched and grasped at his hair, loving how it felt between you. you tugged, knowing he liked the sting, and knowing you liked the small gasp that escaped his throat when you'd do so.

"l-love you," you pant, pulling away to catch your breath as he follows you upward, spit connecting the two of you together as your eyes water again, "i love you toji," your words have a hold on him, something he's never experienced before.

for your entire life, you've wanted to be full of love. you've wanted a love that you've read in classic literature and seen in old hollywood movies. you wanted to be so full of love that you emptied yourself, waiting around for your prince charming. and when you met toji, he poured out his heart, giving you everything that he had. nobody else was toji, and nobody else could love you the way that he did.

"love you too, sweetheart," he whispers, and the words are heavy on his tongue, something he never said before he met you. he's not used to this, and he's not sure he will be. but he's sure that he wants your love, and knows that no other man is worthy of it. half the time he doubts he's worthy of it as well.

"i didn't mean what i said," you tell him again and he shushes you with another kiss, nodding as his large hands run soothingly up and down your back, his nose nudging your sweetly.

"i know sweetheart, i didn't either. y'know what you mean to me, nothing you say or do will ever make me mad at you." and he's right, because he can't remember the last time he had been with a woman who he was sure he'd kill for, can't remember the last time he had actually loved someone the way he loves you.

"i," you feel your words running out when his lips attach to your neck, your head falling backward to give him more room as heat blossoms in your face, across your chest, "i wanna run away with you, start fresh s-somewhere," you can feel your mind begin to go hazy as he sucks, his tongue running across the fresh marks he leaves you, looking through his long lashes as he listens intently to what you have to say.

"no," he shakes his head, undoing the knot that was keeping your dress together as his nose rubs at your soft skin, savoring this, "no, you're 'gonna go back home and you're 'gonna-"

"toji!" you try to quiet him but he looks at you, wanting to finish what he is trying to say. you knew what he wanted to tell you, knew that deep down you were merely dreaming. his calloused hands squeezed at your thighs, unconsciously moving you up and down his hard bulge.

"and you're 'gonna marry somebody who can provide for you," and although the words take everything in him to say, he knows that is the life that you deserve.

"i'll work, i'll find a job and the two of us will-" he presses a soft kiss to your lips, shaking his head.

"you know that this isn't the life cut out for you, and you know that no matter what, i won't be able to give you everything that you want." his thumb is hungrily hooking your panties to the side, fingers running over your slit that was practically dripping in wetness. he knew that this was the last time the two of you could be able to do this, and though he wanted to savor every second with you, he could barely control himself as it was.

"i want you," you shakily say, tears springing in your eyes as he hurries to wipe them away. who would have guessed that the man most feared in town would have done anything in his power to make the woman he loved most smile genuinely again?

to that, he had no response.

so instead, he did what he knew best, tugging his pants down as his cock sprang free. you glanced down, your mouth running dry at the sight.

his head was an angry red, leaking with pre as it twitched in the cold air. he was the only man you've been with, but you were aware enough to know that he was hung. and you couldn't help but think he was pretty, although you'd never admit it out loud. toji would only swat at you, gently turning your head to the side as he rolled his eyes.

but tonight, the two of you didn't have time to waste.

normally, he'd eat you out until your screams filled his house until your legs clamped around his head until you said you couldn't take anymore, his mouth shining with your essence and his spit. but you were wet enough where he didn't have to, and truth be told, you wanted him in you now, wanted to feel yourself around him.

you lined yourself up with him, your walls fluttering around nothing as his head spasmed from the feeling of lightly running against your clit. he was usually the one in charge, but tonight he let you take the lead, knowing how you needed it.

you gently pushed yourself on, your head tipping backward at the stretch. no matter how many times you'd take him, your pussy would never fully be able to accommodate his size. even his fingers would sting when he stretched you out, and this was far more different from that.

"fuck, slowly, there you go," he talked you through it, his eyes half-lidded as you began to sink into him, taking him inch by inch. your fingers gripped his shoulder, leaving indents as you felt your lungs squeezing out any of the air left in them.

"t-toji, fuck, you're so big," you mutter, biting on your lips to keep in the wanton moans as you squeeze around him, hearing him suck in a breath at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock.

"you can do it," his hands gripped onto your waist, your skirt pooling around your hips as he helped steady you on, "know you can sweetheart, you've done it before," his voice was husky, a deep drawl to it. you loved it, loved him, loved everything about him.

"shit, hmmm, fuck!" you squeal, finally squeezing all of him in your, trying to take a little break as you felt him nearly rip you in half, the sting was welcome, and you lived for the way his head nipped at the spot that made your eyes roll back.

after a few seconds, you felt his thumb find your clit, swiping at it slowly as he began to move you up gently with his other hand. sweat was dotting his brow bone, and your head had thumped onto his, letting him maneuver your body.

once it was just his tip left in you, his eyes found yours, making sure you were good. when you gave him the go-ahead nod, he slammed your back down, a loud whine ripping itself from your lips.

"t-toji! oh my god, ooooh, f-fuck, toji!" you could barely find any words to say as he bounced you up and down on his cock, squelching sounds filling the air as a ring of you circling it's way around his dick, making it shine in the faint candles he had lit once the power went out from the storm.

"there you go, fuck, jus' like that." he rasped, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move, palming them as he switched between tugging at your nipples and swiping at your clit, knowing either one made your mind go foggy.

"remember this dick when you see that scrawny bitch, yeah?" he huffs into your damp skin, kissing, biting at your chest, your neck as he looks up at you, "know this he can never amount to this, 'k sweetheart?"

you nod feverishly, tugging at the strands of hair that littered at his nape as you lean down to kiss him, everything messy and rushed as the two of you cling onto each other.

"who makes you feel this good?"

"y-you!" you cry out, crying from the pleasure and the pain, the crack in your heart worsening with each second.

"who does this pussy belong to?" he edged you on, his veins dragging up and down your walls with his every thrust, his lip caught between his teeth.

"you toji!" you whine out, trying to grab onto his clothes, his shoulders, anything to stabilize you to reality.

"who do you love, huh, sweetheart?" he needs to hear it once more, once more so that it can be seared into his mind. once more so that once he has to live a life without you in it, the reminder that you love him, or at least loved him at some point, can make him smile without having it turn bitter.

"you, jus' you toji!" your tears are salty on his lips, and he can feel you getting closer to your release. he knows he's not far away from his, so he picks up his pace, rubbing your little bud faster as he feels your walls clench tightly around him.

"that's right," he groans, "you're all mine."

he knows that he's being selfish, knows that you'll probably forget about him and this fling years from now. but here, at this moment, he wants you to remember him. he wants your pussy to mold to his shape so that no other man can fit you, fuck you, love you the way toji does.

you nod again, your arms circling around his neck as your hips stutter, your stomach clenching and walls clamping down as you feel yourself about to let go.

"toji, i'm gonna, fuck, toji...!" you squeal when he doesn't stop, his pace relentless as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, never leaving you unmarked with his bruising grip on your waist.

"come on, do it, let go, come with me," he's close, and once he feels your walls spasming around him, your head tilting back as you let out a strangled cry as you come, he lifts you up, his release spilling all over your naked stomach as his cock twitched with his every movement.

you swear you've never felt this good in your life, your toes curling as you finally cum around him. it's too much, the way your essence squirts everywhere, your walls longing to be filled once he pulls out of you.

it's too much yet too little, knowing that the two of you don't have much time to savor this moment.

your chest is heaving up and down, your neck flushing with heat as you settle back down on toji's lap, your legs and thighs cramping as he flashes' you a little grin, the same one that made you fall in love with him in the first place as you move some hair away from his eyes.

aside from your labored breaths, his house is silent once again, and just as heavy as it was minutes ago.

"the night's still not over," he reminds you, the two of you glancing out the window as the rain continues to storm down. the wind is faster and angrier than it was before you arrived, and the thunder rattles the little house.

"can we go to your bedroom?" you ask, resting your head down on his chest as you listen to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat. it's erratic, just like yours.

"mhm," he hums, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, shuffling your skirt around so that it settles on your thighs.

"i'm 'gonna come back next year," you saw, wiping at your cheeks so that he can't see you crying again, but nothing goes unnoticed by him, "and you better have a ring waiting for me when i do."

he nods again.

"anything for my girl."

[2millu2]

Tantalizing Smell - Giyu Tomioka

ఌ Ft. Giyu x Hashira fem reader

WC: 3k

warnings: Smut, PwP, Sex Pollen, Marking, Penetration, nipple play, slighy caught, someone watching, fem reader, pet name (use of babe from reader)

A/N: maybe making a part 2

The forest was eerily still save for the occasional chirp of a bird or rustle of leaves in the light breeze. Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched as she and Giyu made their way cautiously through the dense trees.

Giyu walked slightly ahead, the hilt of his sword gripped tightly in his hand. Though his expression was as impassive as ever, Y/n could sense the razor-sharp focus simmering just beneath the surface. When it came to demons, the usually reserved water hashira was all business.

Y/n tried her best to match Giyu's intense vigilance, her own smaller blade at the ready. She depended on her bubbly chatter to calm her nerves during missions like this. "Did you hear the new baby deer was just born in the forest outside my village?" she piped up cheerfully. "The kids have been so excited to see it. They're calling it Blossom because of the white spots on its back!"

She stole a glance at her silent companion, unable to read his stony countenance as usual. But she knew he was listening, he always did despite his brooding demeanor.

Before she could continue her one-sided conversation, a harsh cawing shattered the stillness. A flock of crows burst from the trees just ahead, their frantic wingbeats sending leaves swirling. "Demon," Giyu stated succinctly, lengthening his stride into a run.

Y/n's heart kicked up as she rushed to keep pace. "What kind?" she asked in halting breaths. Giyu's eyes narrowed grimly. "Don’t know let’s get there quick before it hurts people."

As they broke through the forest into a shadowy clearing, an overwhelmingly sweet and cloying aroma assaulted their senses. Y/n's eyes widened at the thick purple fog surrounding them. "What is this?" she exclaimed, waving a hand in front of her face. "Have you ever encountered something like this before?"

She looked to Giyu for an explanation, frowning when he didn't respond. To her shock, his dark blue eyes had an oddly glazed look.

"Giyu?" She reached out, passing her hand before his unfocused stare. He blinked slowly, seeming to shake himself out of his daze.

"Are you alright?" Y/n asked with concern.

"I'm fine," he ground out tightly, both hands gripping the hilt of his sword now. "Just a headache."

Y/n studied him closely. "Maybe you should sit this one out. I can handle it if it's just a minor demon."

"No." Giyu's tone was adamant, almost...desperate? "I won't leave you to fight alone. You could get hurt."

Before she could protest further, a thick purple tentacle shot out from the fog, lashing at Y/n's legs. She swiftly severed it with her blade mid-air, landing in a crouch as it fell limp at her feet. Giyu moved to her side, blade drawn and at the ready as more tentacles came whipping through the forest...

The tentacles came slashing through the hazy purple fog in rapid motions. Y/n and Giyu moved with speed and grace, their blades flashing as they deflected and severed the writhing tentacles one by one.

Though they fought back-to-back, Y/n couldn't help but notice Giyu's movements seemed a bit sluggish, his usual fluid swordsmanship slightly off. His brow was furrowed in either intense concentration or discomfort - it was hard to tell.

A brief lull allowed Y/n to glance back at her partner in concern. "Giyu, are you sure you're alright?"

He gave a curt nod, but his heavy breathing and sweating told a different story. Before Y/n could probe further, a form began emerging from the thick purple fog before them.

The demoness seemed to be fashioned from the purple fog itself, her torso human in appearance but her lower body a gnarled mass of tentacles. Her lips were curved in a sinister smile as her chilling gaze swept over the two hashira.

Without warning, the demoness flung out her arms and a sparkling cloud of white powder exploded outwards. Y/n instinctively covered her mouth and nose, but Giyu wasn't fast enough. The shimmering particles clung to his skin and uniform as he coughed and sputtered.

"Giyu!" Y/n rushed to his side as he doubled over, wrapping a protective arm around his heaving shoulders. She glared daggers at the cackling demoness. "What did you do to him?"

"Oh, just a little stimulant to help him...relax," the demon purred in a lilting tone. "Don't worry, it's quite harmless. At least in small doses."

Seemingly bored with their interaction, the creature melted back into the fog with a flick of her tentacles. The purple demoness leave moments later, leaving Y/n alone with a worryingly dazed Giyu.

She patted his broad back firmly as his coughing slowly subsided. "Easy, easy. Just breathe."

Clutching a fistful of her uniform, he lifted his hooded gaze to meet hers. Y/n's breath caught at the look his dark blue eyes filled with full blow lust- it was unlike anything she'd ever seen from the typically stoic swordsman.

Heat, pure desire seared through her at the blatant hunger blazing of his stare. Giyu reached up with a shaky hand to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her flushed skin.

"Y/n..." he groaned out her name that sparked tingling heat low in her belly. "I want you. Need you..."

She opened her mouth to respond, to question, but his lips crushed over hers in a searing, desperate kiss. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed as his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth hungrily.

A soft whimper escaped her as he smoothly reversed their positions, pushing her back against the forest floor. Giyu settled his weight over her smaller frame, pinning her effectively beneath him.

Y/n realized that she should be protesting this, fighting him off. Clearly the demon's powder had addled his senses, driven him into a maddened lust. This wasn't her Giyu acting of his own will.

But it wasn’t like she hasn’t imagined, fantasized about being under him like this more times than she could count on sleepless nights. Her own desire had been simmering under the surface for so long, slowly stoked by years of lingering looks and heated proximity during their travels together.

Now with Giyu's hard, straining bulge inbetween her legs, pressing against her through the thin fabric of her panties...Y/n couldn't find it in herself to push him away. Not when she craved this, craved him, so desperately.

Tangling her fingers into his dark locks, she arched needily into the delicious friction as he ground his hips against her core. Y/n gasped at the exquisite pressure, throwing her head back to allow his lips to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

"Giyu...ah!" His name fell from her lips in a breathless moan as he sucked hard at her shoulder.

he swiftly parted her uniform unbuttoning it and pushed it down over her shoulders, exposing her perky breasts to his lustful stare. Y/n flushed under the heat of his gaze, nipples harding in the cool forest air.

"Fuck...you're gorgeous," Giyu groaned, roving his eyes over her exposed flesh with lustful hunger. He leaned down to capture one nipple between his lips while his other wandered lower.

"Enough teasing," Y/n moaned, yanking Giyu down into a bruising kiss that left them both panting heavily.

Shoving his uniform off those broad shoulders, she raked her nails over his hard chest in desperation. She needed to feel his skin against hers, to sate the burning ache that had been simmering for far too long.

Giyu growled against her lips, bucking his hips to grind his bulging length against her clothed cunt. Even through the thin layers of fabric separating them, Y/n could feel the impressive size of him, making her mouth water.

Growling curses, they made short work of shredding the last flimsy barriers until he was finally naked above her. Y/n's eyes went wide at the sight of his flushed cock leaking precum and standing proud.

She licked her lips unconsciously, squirming as she drank in the sight of him in all his naked glory. Without exhaustion, she reached out and boldly fisted his impressive length, giving him a few slow firm strokes.

Giyu grunted, jaw ticking as he clearly fought for control. "Fuck, Y/n...gonna make me cum too fast with that pretty hand yours."

Blushing at the Lewd words coming out of his mouth she flashing him a wicked grin, she purposefully swiped her thumb through the bead of moisture at his tip, moaning softly at the musky scent and taste of his arousal. "Want to make you lose it, babe. Want you to come so fucking hard."

His pupils blew wide at her filthy words, breath coming harsher. "Not if I get my fill of you first."

Hooking her legs over his hips, Giyu didn't waste any more time before guiding the swollen tip of his cock through her soaked folds. Y/n cried out shamelessly as he stretched and filled her in one thick thrust that seated him to the hilt.

For a long moment, they simply stilled and savored the sublime feeling of being so intimately joined. Then Giyu started moving with slow rolls of his hips, dragging his thick cock in tantalizing strokes through her fluttering cunt.

Y/n moaned wildly, nails scratching down the muscles of his back as he swiftly found a faster rhythm. Every piston of his hips drove the breath from her lungs in harsh pants, the slick sounds of their of there hips hitting each other fills the quite forest.

Faster and harder Giyu moved, harnessing that supernatural strength until Y/n felt like a rag doll under the relentless onslaught. The thick bed of moss and grass did little to cushion her body as it was driven into the unforgiving forest floor with each frenzied thrust.

"Harder!" she panted harshly, urging him on with ragged cries and rolling her hips. "Give it to me, fuck me harder!"

Giyu snarled, sweat-damp hair falling in messy disarray as he somehow managed to pick up the brutal pace even more. Y/n wailed in pleasure with each powerful lunge, body feeling pure ecstasy as he pounded into her warm wet cunt.

She could feel it rapidly building, that familiar tightness low in her abdomen as Giyu's cock stretched and filled her so exquisitely. Her hoarse cries and his harsh grunts mingled with the obscene wet sounds of their lovemaking.

It was too much and not enough all at once. Y/n's head thrashed against the loamy ground, toes curling. She just needed that one...final...push...

Bracing his weight on one arm, Giyu suddenly reached between their writhing bodies to thumb tight circles over her swollen clit. Electric sparks lanced through Y/n at that exquisite friction combined with the thick slide of his cock nudging so perfectly against that spongy cluster of nerves with each thrust.

Only a few deft brushes of his skilled fingers and Y/n detonated like a flash bomb. Her scream of rapture echoed through the shadowed forest as her entire body arched into his body.

She was vaguely aware of her nails scratching down Giyu's heaving back, leaving bright pink crescents amidst. Wave after shattering wave of convulsive bliss crashed over her as she milked his pistoning cock in rhythmic spasms.

"That's it, take it all," Giyu growled against the sweat-slick column of her throat, hips driving wildly as her velvet walls rippled around him. "You feel so fucking good, so tight when you cum..."

The strained, filthy praise in his gravelly tone only prolonged Y/n's release, sending her spiraling higher. As if from a distance, she heard her own mindless litany of curses and mewling cries spilling shamelessly from her parted lips.

Just when she thought she couldn't possibly take any more, Giyu's powerful body went rigid above her. With one final, harsh groan muffled against her skin, he emptied his hot cum deep inside her still-quivering cunt.

Y/n whimpered at the feeling of his cock twitching and pulsing, coating her inner walls with each hot spurt.. She clutched his shoulders, anchoring him to her as they rode out the final shockwaves together.

Long moments passed where the only sounds were their harsh mingled breaths and the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. Gradually, Giyu slumped heavily over Y/n, completely spent and sated as his weight pinned her to the damp earth below.

She trailed idle, trembling fingers over the twitching muscles of his powerful back, mapping each ridge and scar as she cradled him against her. When he finally lifted his head, spent but glowing with satisfaction, Y/n cupped his stubbled jaw and brushed her lips over his in a soft, reverent kiss.

After the kiss Giyu eyes finally got to his normal dark blue and he finally caught his breath “I’m s-sorry I don’t know what came over me” he says his body looming over yours and his eyes filled with regret

She smiled “hey it’s alright it wasn’t really your fault, plus I’m not mad that it happened” Giyu’s face turns bright red looks like he’s back to his normal self he then helped you put on your clothes

S-shit” said the unknown man hiding behind the tree his cock in his hand filled with his seed the unknown man tuck himself back in his pants “who knew she was a fucking slut, and doing with that bastard Tomioka” said the unknown man before quietly running off

Who do you think the mysterious person is part. 2 🤔

A/N: Credits to the artist of the photo

[pocketsizedowls]

My Conspiracy Theory about Natlan's Pale Characters

I started playing Genshin Impact around the 3.7 update, right after the Interdarshan Championship. While I wasn't around during the initial spark of outrage against Sumeru due to the characters' overall lack of melanin, I eventually learned a lot about Sumeru's cultural inspirations through the SWANA and South Asian creators in the fandom. I think it's beautiful how we learn about each other's cultures through Genshin, and I believe the designers at Hoyoverse do lots of research to facilitate these conversations. This is why I think it's a shame that Natlan, which features rich Indigenous cultures in the Americas, Africa, and Pacific Islands, features primarily pale characters AGAIN.

While it's possible that through the art, story, and fashion of Natlan we will once again learn about the diverse cultures of Indigenous Americas, West Africa, and the Pacific Islands, I don't think it's enough. Considering a lot of these cultures take pride in their skin color and bodies through tattoos, body paint, and other markings/piercings, Hoyoverse is doing a disservice to today's Latin American, African, and Pacific islander fan base by making the majority of Natlan characters pale. To insensitively cherry-pick what traits of each culture to represent and what to discard is the definition of cultural appropriation and racism, which is such a shame because of how many discussions about culture that Genshin has started since 2020. As a Chinese American player, I'm especially disappointed that the company who educated so many people about my culture is failing my brown and Black friends to such a spectacular degree.

Many people have come up with excuses such as it's just skin, it's just a game, Hoyoverse is a Chinese company so what do you expect, Latin America also has white people, etc. I won't bother debunking these myths because there are plenty of people doing this labor already, but what I do want to bring people's attention to is the fact that many Natlan characters were most likely designed with darker skin in mind. Through fanmade recolorings (here's an example), I noticed that Mualani and Kachina's tan lines and skin details look more pronounced with darker skin, while Xilonen looks more mature and Kinich looks more brooding. Having studied studio art during undergrad, I cannot unsee these intentional artistic decisions and cannot shake the possibility that the researchers and character designers of Hoyoverse were forced by higherups to whitewash everyone at the very last minute. If this is true, I hope Hoyoverse will find some way to reverse their decision or turn a new leaf in the future. Considering many other Chinese games like Reverse: 1999 and Dislyte already have diverse representation and melanated characters, Hoyoverse should find no problem following their lead.

As of right now (i.e. 4.8 update), Genshin players from all over the world are expressing their dissatisfaction with Hoyoverse through boycotts, review bombing, and posting on social media. The Chinese fanbase - Hoyoverse's primary audience - is especially vocal and organized about their efforts, which means if Hoyoverse doesn't notice now, they will notice soon. Despite how much we like using Genshin as an escape from real life, it's important to recognize how insidious the consequences of erasing melanated characters can be. Anti-Blackness and colorism harm people on the daily, which is why we must speak up when a company as big and influential as Hoyoverse is doing the harming.

Thanks for reading! Here are some related threads from X, formally known as Twitter:

Petition to "Stop Cultural Appropriation and Whitewashing in MiHoYo Games"

Valeria Rodriguez, i.e. Surcrose's English VA's thoughts on Natlan

Natlan Characters Look Better with a Dark Skintone

Kaveh rerunning in 4.8 is a ploy for WHAT!?!?!?

We Should All Email Hoyoverse

Official Account for HYV Boycott

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Dance (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd attending a ball and being bored to tears until you appear in the crowd.

A/n- thanks to everyone who read and supported my other Feyd fic!! I hope you all enjoy this one too :)

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: none

The ballroom is overrun with diplomats and politicians. All dressed up in their very best attire, each one is hoping to impress those richer and more influential than themselves.

Feyd observes with a bored demeanour, swirling the blood red wine in his goblet. He’s leaning against a white pillar, staring out at the people with keen dark eyes.

A celebration of this degree isn’t something to be missed, his Uncle had said, insisting on his attendance.

So he attends, although he is bored from the lack of any meaningful conversations or actions. The feast was the best part, his favourite piece a bloody rare steak that practically melted in his mouth.

No one has come to speak with him out of a desire to just chat. No, each person who spoke had an ulterior motive and fear in their eyes. They want to be on the Harkonnen’s good side, lest they become victims instead. So, they chat about inconsequential things, all the while their hands shake and betray their frayed nerves.

Feyd found it amusing at first, but has since grown tired of it. These fickle politics and the endless pursuit of money. Money and power make this universe worth living in.

Music begins to play, a sensual drum beat joined by the strumming of string instruments and an angelic vocalizer. The sea of mingling people part as they allow the dancers the necessary space to move.

Feyd’s lips curl as he watches people join in the dance, the ballroom finally used for its original purpose.

People in skin tight dresses, fashionable suits, those showing too much skin, some showing none- the room is flooded with a menagerie of humans.

Each one is dancing with a partner, bending and swaying to the rhythm. All accept one.

He watches her move in perfect synchronization with the lilting music, lifting her arms high in the air. She avoids the stuffy aristocratic dancers who hardly allow the music to carry them.

She looks like a woman possessed. As if the melody has taken root deep within her and bids her to perform a marvellous spell.

It must be a spell, for he finds himself bewitched.

No one else has captured his attention so profoundly this whole event. He hasn’t even spoken with her yet and oh how he wishes too.

He must.

Feyd has never before desired to dance. Not unless it was the dance of battle, of blades clashing and blood dripping.

You have changed that.

As he watches you deftly twirling and clapping gently to the song, he cannot stop his body from acting on its own accord.

And Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, fearsome warrior, finds himself pushing through the crowd to join you in your hypnotic dance.

You notice when the handsome stranger leaves his spot by the pillar, his eyes fixated only on you. You’re not sure how to feel.

During the dinner, you had walked by him on the way to your designated place. You’re from a minor house, not fit to sit with the guests from the major ones. Not that you minded, it’s always been this way.

He had caught your attention immediately. Brooding and gorgeous, with full, sensual lips and the palest skin you’ve ever seen, how could you resist admiring him?

He hadn’t noticed you then.

He notices you now.

A soft smile graces your lips as he reaches you, dark eyes boring into yours. You stop as he reaches out a sculpted hand.

You take it.

His hand is warm, and you can sense the strength hiding just beneath his skin. This man is dangerous, you realized that when you first spotted him.

To your surprise, he is an excellent dancer, leading you in perfect harmony to the music. You can barely hear the music over the pounding of your heart.

This wasn’t what you expected.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” you whisper once you’re close enough to hear each other.

His smirk is prideful, “A fighter must be lithe and nimble, my lady.”

His voice is raspy, deep. Again, you are taken by surprise.

“You must be an excellent warrior too.”

You spin around, his hand guiding you. He has dropped his smile, replaced it with a predatory look reminiscent of a hungry panther.

“The best,” he replies, supporting your back as he dips you downwards.

The other dancers seem to fade away as you dance with him, this frightening stranger. His touches are like a fire unto you, his gaze a steady burning.

He dances as if it’s a battle of dominance. He leads without hesitation, and you answer with the fluidity and grace befitting a lady.

It’s exhilarating.

And it’s gone too soon as the music dies down and the other clap for the musicians.

Breathing heavily, you simply stare at this man who joined you in rapturous movement, not wanting it to end.

He hasn’t let go of your hand.

You don’t want him to.

“What’s your name?” You ask before he can slip away and disappear forever. If he did, you’d at least want to remember his name.

He smirks, “You don’t know me?”

“No, or I would not have asked,” you point out.

He chuckles, revealing blacked teeth, “I am na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, my lady.”

You blink at this revelation. You’ve never met a Harkonnen before, let alone a such a high ranking one.

Feyd expects you to recoil in fright, surely knowing the brutality his house is known for. He is taken aback when you smile.

“I am pleased to meet you,” you in line your head slightly as you supply your own name.

He realizes his hand is still clasping yours and that you don’t seem to mind it one bit. Feyd gently tugs you towards him, “Come, it is too crowded here.”

Perhaps foolishly, you allow yourself to be led away from the ballroom and into a quiet hall.

It’s late, and you can see the stars through the sheer curtains of the hallway.

“Are you enjoying the festivities? You seemed unhappy,” you ask. “I saw you by the pillar.”

“I was bored,” he admits without care. “Before the dance.”

“And now?”

“And now I have welcome company and my boredom has fled in the wake of your beauty.”

He traces a hand, still so warm, down your cheek. You bask in the attention, wondering if this is all a dream you’ll wake from in a moment.

Feyd’s hand goes lower, until it grasps around your neck and tightens. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to still your breathing. With his grip tight, he pulls you forward and kisses you deeply.

It’s intoxicating.

He kisses like he dances, dominating and alluring. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he continues his assault on your senses.

“Everything was dull until you danced into my sight,” he rasps as you catch your breath. “I’ve never seen such a vision.”

“I have never seen a man like you,” you confess, resting a hand on his chest. “You have such intensity…”

“Does it frighten you?”

“No, no it thrills me, my lord.”

The way those words roll off your tongue has Feyd hooked, his mouth latching onto your neck as he cups your face with one hand.

“Do you know what I’ve done?” He asks, unsure why he’s asking.

“I know you’ve danced beautifully,” you smile. “And I know your touch feels electrifying. And I know you’re going to take me into an empty room.”

You withdraw from him slightly, awestruck at the hunger in his eyes.

“And what happens then?”

He retakes your hand, not too gently this time, and practically drags you to the nearest room, slamming the pen the door.

Luckily, no one is in there.

“You know what happens next,” you say, already stripping him of his fine shirt before doing the same to yourself.

Feyd is glad he decided to come to this festival, thanking his lucky stars as he stares in awe at your beauty.

He wonders if you make love as spellbindingly as you dance.

He’ll soon find out.

[yellydany]

VAMPIRE KILLER FROG 🐸 🩸 (Nosferas Venari) Also known as Eztlicueyatl (Blood frog) or Tzinacamiztli (Bat death)

"A voracious amphibian-like species that adapted to hunt vampires. Its origins are vague and shrouded in mystery but an hypothesis suggests it could have been the result of selective breeding or nature’s “way” of dealing with the ecological imbalance vampires caused through centuries. Whichever the reason, one thing is clear: these hunters evolved in such fashion they became the night creatures’ bane.

Every bodily function feels almost engineered in eerie accuracy to strike at their very weaknesses- such as the tip of the tail (bone) they sharpen to resemble a stake, the muscle reflexes and athletic composition to catch up with their supernatural agility and a blackened coat which absorbs the bouncing light of nocturnal eyes paired with drastically lowering their body temperature (essentially becoming ‘invisible’ in the dark). Although they may prefer a stealthy approach they show no fear if they must engage in direct confrontation. There’s no sexual dimorphism albeit females are more common in nature compared to the rare male sights and not much is known about the behavior with others of their kind as they are solitary. But such is their intelligence that it would be safe to assume they study- and learn from both their prey’s movement and environments given the observations on this beast.

Worse yet- for vampires- they have more cunning ways of hunting for a meal.

The Nosferas frog is able to produce a unique secretion mix of blood, mucus and gastric fluids which is all over their bodies- from the inside and out. More interestingly they have a way to regulate its acidic components to either use as a melting gag weapon, dissolving and trapping pathogens or simply increasing its PH. Essentially, the body is extremely moldable thanks to this odd slimy substance that makes it almost feel like liquid and comes in handy in various situations such as protecting their brood eggs by swallowing them. It is also the most crucial function in the capturing of their vampiric prey as the scent of this bloody secretion lures them and other carnivores in. Once they come in sight they eject their multiple stomachs through gastric eversion to latch onto the victim and begin the digestion early. The vampire skulls are then proudly kept and displayed given the very transparent look of the lower side of the body.

Despite it being a terrifying organism by all means, they have shown vague signs of affection toward humans- some of whom have tamed and kept them as exotic guardian pets against the supernatural plague. In most areas of the land however they underwent a ban given their dangerous and unsettling nature."

[tia-shay]

I have been resurrected…this time from a new account because in true plutonian fashion I feel the need to combust and start anew far too often.

DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PLAGIARIZE MY WORK.

thank you for reading you angel of a person! enjoyyy🤍

🖤 The classic Scorpio stereotype of being dark, brooding, and cryptic doesn’t belong to Scorpio suns. It belongs to the risings, moons, and mars. Every Scorpio sun I know is the bubbliest mf to walk the planet.

🤍 It’s well known that personal planets in Virgo can make for a perfectionist, but I’ve also noticed this pattern with Virgo degrees in a chart. Degrees tell a large part of your story as well!

🖤 I’ve said it before and I WILL say it again: I’ve never met an Aries, Gemini, Scorpio, or Sagittarius sun that wasn’t popular, or at the very least: amazing at holding convos with all kinds of people. If you aren’t popular, congrats, you’re a unicorn.

🤍 Piggybacking off of the above observation, these signs aren’t necessarily prone to being buddy-buddy with everyone. But I have noticed they can hold a conversation and have a wide variety of acquaintances at the very least.

🖤 Taurus and Libra suns will never be caught slacking. Their self-esteem and quality of life is tied to their need of a harmonious environment and looking cute 24/7. Also never met a Taurus or Libra sun that wasn’t adored for their beauty.

🤍 Sagittarius placements are both super energetic and super cuddly at the same time. Like they can do both so effortlessly. I see why everyone loves them lol.

🖤 Saturnian moons (Aqua and Cap) go sooo well together. I will forever obsess over this pairing. Aquarius’ analytical nature and expansive thinking combined with Capricorn’s stable nature and diligent care creates such a sweet and enriching element.

🤍 In my humble opinion, Saturnian moons don’t get enough credit for their depth. I’m biased, but having known these signs on a personal level, their depth is beyond what people speak on. Of course, not just anyone is getting in their thoughts though. These signs open up over time. Hence, the Saturnian influence. Being intentional in the sharing of emotions does not equal being emotionally stunted. With that being said, Saturnian moons can most certainly suppress their emotions better than the average person.

🖤 You would think a Sagittarius mars would make for an adventurous person who probably loves nature, but every sag mars I know is deathly afraid of the things that live in nature: i.e. bugs. They will scream their heads off if a bug even looks at them.

🤍 Gemini moons learned how to gossip and keep tabs on people from their mother. They also have great conversational skills that they learned from her. Their mother was likely popular and social. Same goes for Libra moons.

THANK YOU FOR READING. 🫶🏽✨

RIGHTS RESERVED TO MY BLOG astro-enthusiast . DO NOT COPY, REWRITE, OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

[thehighladywrites]

𝖠𝖢𝖮𝖳𝖠𝖱 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖧𝖢’𝖲

summary: being girly in a world full of haters can be hard sometimes! I mean, people hate all the time. but these males don’t let any disrespect towards you slide. They protect you through and through 👀

warnings: fluff, tw:beron😒

amara’s note: this went from being an azriel fic, to rhys and azriel, to batboys, to batboys+lucien and finally all of them. Honestly idc bc i love all of them🤭🤭

Rhysand

Fashion bf x barbie doll gf

I can’t think of anything more cuter than being his doll.

The man does everything for you,

Picking out materials for dresses, designing them for you, working with a private seamstress to bring his visions to life

He knows you best and always supplies the cutest, girliest outfits ever

This man is so attentive and caring, he doesn’t even have to ask what you want to wear, he just knows. It’s like you share a brain

Rhys absolutely loves it when you ask for his advice on hairstyles and fashion choices. He literally goes into designer mode and fixes you up reaaaal nice

When you guys are in the Hewn City, you don’t care, you still wear your pink girly clothes bc who’s gonna say anything to the high lady?

Sparkly accessories, high heels, pretty makeup and cute hairstyles is your trademark.

Rhys loves that you are super girly, he likes the dynamic of him being dark and mysterious and you being bright and bubbly

He protects you like crazy, no one is even managing to say something insulting to you bc rhys takes care or it before the sentence even forms in their mind

Cassian

brooding bf x sunshine gf

This combo is top tier

At first, Cassian might've thought you were a bit too cheery and too involved in yourself. I mean, who else has a massive stash of fragrances, lotions, sparkly jewels, clothes, tons of bags, and enough shoes to fill a closet?

Also, who in the world is that insanely cheerful? There are a million things to focus on, and you're there pondering over matching shades of pink and which bag to wear for the day.

He tries to keep his distance, but you're so inviting and warm that he just melts and falls head over heels in love.

Cassian also falls in love with how much you care for yourself and how adorable you look every single day.

You notice how you’re always seeing him always in plain, simple athleisure or leather. So, you take matters into your own hands and whisk him away for a shopping spree, upgrading his entire wardrobe. Despite his potential, he's been stuck in a rut of black, plain, and boring clothes, and you're determined to change that.

After just a few weeks of being together, this guy has a full-on skincare routine, knows how to coordinate outfits flawlessly so he looks very put together and handsome

He has even mastered the art of silky-smooth hair thanks to you. You've truly leveled him up in every way.

Everyone can't help but notice how much more refreshed and attractive Cassian looks, and it's making you second-guess your decision to help him level up because now, people are hitting on him even more.

Azriel

Scary bf x shy gf

Top tier combo again

No one really knows how such polar opposites ended up together, but suppose they do say opposites attract.

Azriel is stoic around everyone who isn’t the direct inner circle. He lets loose around his found family but even more so around you

Really, he is super comfortable and funny when you’re alone

Azriel notices how soft spoken and kind hearted you are very early on

He is very attentive and your style is actually first thing he notices

The frilly skirts, cute tops, styled hair, cutesy nails and an aura that screamed femininity

He considers his daggers as accessories while you wear cute headbands and ribbons in your hair

Azriel’s fav activity is watching you get ready for anything, whether it be for bed, an event, in the mornings or date nights

He just adores watching your moves, how much effort you put in, the different techniques you use and how you pamper yourself

Pride fills him when he sees how relaxed and put together you feel and look. There is nothing he likes more than seeing you happy with yourself

I also believe az can be traditional and likes the dynamic of having a girly girl mate, or you being all feminine and sweet while he is more masculine and protective

Bro let’s actually talk about protection

No one, I mean absolutely no one, insults you and gets away with it. No matter how snarky the comment, Azriel deals with it.

You’re not as confrontational as him and often hide behind his wings and that makes him even more protective if possible

You always calm him down when someone says something, and he listens to you. If you don't want him to deal with it then and there, he won't ever confront someone in front of you.

Azriel just handles it later, putting fear into people for even daring to approach you.

He wouldn’t do anything remotely scary or frightening in fromt of you. Azriel keeps his work and personal life separate, especially from you

Az couldn’t dream of accidentally putting you in danger, so he never, EVER drags you into his work

You’re not stupid, you know the toll his work takes on him so you are there for him without being too involved, you know how to cheer him up from whatever he is doing behind closed doors

Eris

Arrogant bf x dark feminine gf

Power couple through and through

Eris is canonically extremely well dressed and that makes this dynamic so special

Eris adores splurging on his seamstresses to create matching outfits for both of you.

Best dressed couple in Prythian, hands down

You two are fashion icons, inspiring countless people. People look up to you as their inspiration. Established luxury brands pay you handsomely to flaunt their designs at balls, where all eyes are on you.

Speaking of matching, y’all have matching smirks and cunning mind, and since you’re mates, you have a way of communicating and plotting without anyone knowing

Before, while B*ron🤢 was alive, Eris was ridiculed for having soft hands, clean nails, and good hygiene, which always disgusted him. Why was being clean looked down upon? It disgusted him, knowing that people purposely rather be dirty than clean

Everything got better when you came around and his father passed away. Finally, he had someone who didn't judge him, someone who actually encouraged him to look his best.

You often sit in his lap, plucking his eyebrows as he wears a face mask, his hair pushed back by a cute alien headband.

You often also get manicures, and at first, Eris was like, "This is where I draw the line." But when you suggested just a clear coat and cleaning the nails, he went along with it.

No one knows though. That's the only compromise; I mean, he's still the High Lord, and people can't know he gets manicures. He'd be ridiculed for some stupid macho reason.

Anyways, when it comes to protecting you, no one does it better than him. Not only will he destroy the person with his words but he will blackmail and psychologically torture them. It might seem mean but that’s the price of people not properly respecting their High Lady

Lucien

calm bf x hyper and outspoken gf

you are an absolute sweetheart, there is no one that hates you in the slightest.

In this scenario, I think you're known for rescuing stray animals. It's not like collecting Pokémon cards; instead, you're the person who steps up when there's a stray kitten in need of care.

You definitely live in a cute cottage in the woods with him, not worrying about anything with him there

Your house is an explosion of adorable decor, with pink accents everywhere you look. It's filled with super cute and girly decorations in every corner.

When you start dating Lucien, he notices how hyper you are and how you juggle multiple tasks at once.

Lucien is like your calming anchor, keeping your energy balanced and the vibes serene.

One of your biggest hyperfixations is clothes. Whether it's dresses, coats, pants, shoes, fabrics, or makeup, anything feminine is right up your alley.

And Lucien makes sure you don't overexert yourself, always looking out for your well-being.

Since you're so hyper, you're sometimes loud in certain moments. It really hurts when people tell you to shut up and calm down.

lucien doesn’t let it slide tho

This man defends you however he deems necessary, whether it's with his words or hands.

Just know, he always has your back, no matter what.

No one is suffocating your light and energy if he has anything to do with it.

[saturnville]

what happens in madrid… [1/2]

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc (naomi sinclair) summary: what happens in madrid… warnings: none. tags: @emjayewrites @cocobutterqwueen @neeville @neewrites @cosmic-parker + anyone else who likes football fics? let me know if you want to be added! an: when I tell you this took me forever…I truly hope you like my delusions put into a fic 🩵 and this gif!!!

part two: …stays in madrid

“Let me take you out. Make your trip one to remember.”

Naomi considered herself a smart woman. University-educated with street smarts that were more profound than a person would assume for her age. She intentionally thought through every scenario; understanding that everything she said, thought, and did came with a consequence.

She didn’t know what it would take to see a six-foot man with caramel skin and chocolate brown eyes approaching her at a local restaurant and boldly attempting to woo her, to let go of all her inhibitions and throw her common sense out the window. She knew him, yes, but she didn’t know him. Hell, he could kill her within the next five minutes.

Did it phase her? No. For once, she let her curiosity outweigh her logical mind and fell victim to his gleaming smile and charming nature. She was on vacation, she tried to reason the best she could. On vacation and being pursued by a fine young man who insisted she have a good time during her stay. So, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile that raised his eyebrows in interest. “Pick me up from here tomorrow.”

-

“Well aren’t you beautiful,” he complimented as she walked toward his vehicle, dark and brooding, much unlike the man he’d presented himself as. His comment had her lips curling upward to a smile. She thanked him, accepted the kiss on her cheek, and tried not to fold when he guided her to the passenger’s seat.

“Thank you,” Naomi replied after some time. “You are dually handsome, sir.” And that was a fact. She appreciated his subtle approach to fashion. Everything he wore was high-end, that was evident, but it wasn’t flashy. His aura and confidence spoke for him. He wore the black button-down and matching short set with an easy confidence. The dark sunglasses over his eyes completed the look, only emphasizing her thoughts.

Jude smiled and proceeded to drive out of the hotel lot. They engaged in small conversation, picking up from where they left off the previous night. They were different but had a lot in common. She, too, was the oldest of two, save she had a sister rather than a brother. Unlike her, her sister didn’t take an interest in football, rather participated in cheerleading and went to university on a cheer scholarship.

“That’s amazing,” Jude commented genuinely. “She graduated right?”

Naomi shook her head. “Not yet; she’s still got time. She’s a first-year, but she’s already planning her graduation trip. She wants to go to England.” His ears perked up and a sly smile crept on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully but accepted his proposal to share places she should visit whenever her sister went to England.

“You know,” Jude spoke minutes later as he guided her out of the vehicle. She took his extended hand and thanked him, straightening her thigh-length skirt. “I don’t hear Spain as a place for solo travel often. What prompted that?”

Her response was delayed by her infatuation with the sights above her. They were outside of a museum. Not just any museum, but the National Archaeological Museum. She was inwardly awed. He took note of her love for history and art and took her to the museum. She could kiss him right then and there.

“Glad you took my advice and wore comfortable shoes.” They both glanced at her New Balance sneakers that complimented her neutral-toned outfit. She wore a gray cropped top, knee-length distressed shorts, and a white fitted cap to match. “We’ll be out for a while. I know a good lunch place not too far away if you want to go later.”

Naomi smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

-

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ Naomi refrained from touching the meticulously handcrafted bust in front of her. Her eyes gleamed with wonder and adoration. She adored museums. They were where art and history kissed and refused to gasp for air. There was nothing like it.

From behind her, Jude nodded slowly, not paying much attention to the busts, but rather her child-like excitement and sun-like glow. He could have cursed himself for doing all of this for a woman he’d met less than 36 hours before, but the feeling deep within him outweighed the logic his brain tried to present him with.

A pretty woman whom he just happened to speak to at dinner had agreed to let him take her around Madrid for vacation. Just as he did, she’d taken such a liking to him that she agreed to spend time with him until she left ten days later. He had ten days to be in her presence and he’d been damned if he let his mind ruin it.

“Yeah,” Jude spoke up after some time, his eyes following her. “Very beautiful.”

-

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naomisinclair such a beautiful city

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adyajalyn girl who took that picture and who’s arm is that

— naomisinclair 🌚

adyajalyn you go out of the country once and start befriending strangers like a dumbass

adyajalyn is he cute though?

— naomisinclair very

judeb pretty

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-

“So, do you plan on returning to Madrid in the future?” Jude asked as they walked in a local park, hand in hand. Naomi tilted her head to the sky and swung their hands together. “Or was this a one-time trip?”

“I’ll be back. Especially if I have a reason to return.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, which were already awaiting hers. She saw something within them--excitement, interest, and desire. It made her stomach clench and her face grow warm. “So, hopefully, I will.”

The wheels began to turn in his mind. She’d be gone in ten days. He’d go on break in fourteen days. Would he be insane to try and get to know a woman who was nowhere near Madrid? Maybe. But, who doesn't like a little crazy?

After some time, Jude spoke up, “I’d like to think you will.”

Her eyes twinkled. She said nothing after that but the step she took closer to his body said more words than her mouth could and he accepted it gratefully.

-

“You can come in if you’d like,” Naomi said shyly as they stood outside the door of her hotel. Her fingers fondled her braids as she awaited his response.

Jude’s lips spread in a content smile as he nodded. “I appreciate that. Give me some time to shower and I’ll be back.”

Naomi grinned like a kid in the candy shop. They exchanged their goodbyes and she was left to freshen up and keep her mind occupied as she waited for his arrival.

Shortly after her shower, she got a phone call from Adya, whose face was filled with interest as she immediately asked, “Who is he?”

Naomi chuckled, “Well hello to you, too. And to answer your question, he’s a nice guy I befriended at dinner one day. Just showing me around the city. And before you call me a dumbass, yes I know it was dangerous.”

“As long as you know,” Adya shrugged. She then smiled softly. “Is he treating you nicely at least? Not a total creep?”

Naomi nodded. Jude was more than nice. He was incredibly kind and attentive. The thought of her leaving the following week drove her mad but she tried her best not to ponder on it too much. She’d enjoy the present moment.

“He’s a nice guy. Sucks that I’ll leave, but that’s why I’m just basking in the moment.”

Adya hummed. “If you’d like to make it work, it could be possible. Would take a lot of effort, but it could work if you both wanted it to. I think you might have to build a friendship first, though.” That drew a small laugh from Naomi who agreed wholeheartedly.

Just as she was peeped to respond, his name dropped down from a banner.

Jude

— Hey, pretty girl. I’m outside.

Adya, not blind to Naomi’s sudden grin, hollered and said, “Girl, go talk to that man and call me in the morning.”

“Bye Ady!”

Naomi tossed her phone on the bed and kept off the mattress. She patted her braids, soothed her sweatshirt, wriggled her manicured toes, and strode toward the door, opening it wide.

Jude stood on the other side, a smile on his face as he held up a dark bag. “I come bearing gifts.” Naomi moved out his way and allowed his entry. “This is a nice room.”

“Thank you. The booking company gave me hell so they upgraded me to a suite.” Naomi pointed to his bag and tilted her head to the side. “What do you have there?” She sat on the bed and he joined her.

“Heard through the grapevine you like popcorn, chocolate, and good movies.” Out of the bag came varieties of chocolate, a large bag of popcorn, and his laptop, fully equipped with any streaming service of her choice. “Figured we would watch one or two together.”

Naomi grinned like an idiot for the hundredth time that day. He was so considerate it almost hurt. Without much thought, she said, “I could kiss you right now.”

The way Jude’s eyes widened made her heart quicken but the feeling of his lips on hers shortly after caused it to nearly burst in her chest.

He was such a good kisser, she noted, appreciating how he took control yet was very gentle with her. His hands didn’t roam below her waist and he didn’t try to force his tongue down her throat. It was the perfect blend between respectful and polite and grown and sexy. Just as she liked it.

“I like you,” he whispered some time after they pulled away. Naomi’s eyes softened at his confession. She noted how he tried to catch his breath, how his cheeks were rosy from his body temperature rising, how his lips were slightly swollen and smeared with her lip gloss. He was so beautiful.

“Jude…”

He didn’t let her finish. “I like you and it’s crazy because it’s been less than 48 hours but Naomi, there’s just something about you.” Swoon. “You’ll go back home and I’ll be here, but I want to see what my life could look like with you in it. Give you a reason to come back.”

Naomi laughed lightly. Not because anything he said was funny, but because of the insanity of it all. She’d fallen head first for a man she’d known for two days and blushed at every word he said like his sentences were crafted by Shakespeare.

��I like you too,” she admitted. “And I feel crazy saying that because we’re strangers.”

Jude’s eyebrows raised as he nodded. That was the unfortunate fact, but, “We’ve got a few more days to become more than strangers.”

And that they did.

-

“Jude!” Naomi squealed as he tapped her shoulder, causing her to fall in the pool. She didn’t get the opportunity to wipe the water from her eyes before Jude jumped in beside her. She squealed loudly then giggled when he scooped her into his arms.

“That wasn’t nice,” she said, pouting playfully. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her manicured fingers combed through the thick curls on his head, an action that made his eyes flutter. “I’m gonna get you back.”

“Is that so?” he asked, fingers caressing her thighs that were locked around his waist. Naomi nodded, eyes dropping to his lips. “Gonna have to get me first.”

Naomi, as flirtatious as ever, only has to bat her eyelashes a few times and brush her lips against his for him to crumble immediately. The perfect way to get him distracted enough to wriggle herself from his grip and dunk his head into the water.

“Oof!”

Her laugh was loud and boisterous, but he enjoyed hearing it all the same. Jude wiped his eyes when he came up from the water and gave her a look. Naomi giggled as she tried to back away, but her movement was restricted by the water.

Once again, she was scooped into his arms. “You play dirty,” he said. “I like it.”

Naomi smiled. The feelings she felt with him were unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Her face always hurt from smiling, she felt giddy whenever he arrived at her door or called her phone. How would she possibly be able to deal with the distance?

-

“I’ve got to go, Jude, or I’ll miss my flight,” Naomi whispered, tugging her hand out of his grasp gently. “I’ve got to go.”

The dreaded day had arrived. Naomi had to go back home and they’d be without each other (physically) until their schedules aligned again. It was something neither of them wanted to think of but like always, time brought reality back to them.

“I don’t want you to go,” the footballer admitted, swinging their hands back and forth. Naomi smiled sadly, using her free hand to caress his face.

“I don’t want to go either, but we’ll call, text, and FaceTime as much as we can, and we’ll figure it out. We can figure it out.”

Jude’s lips parted to respond but her flight being called over the speakers cut him off. He sighed heavily. Naomi bit her lip to pierce her quivering lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jude replied. He pressed a kiss against her lips.“Call me when you land, alright?” Naomi nodded and took her roller bag in her hand and began to walk toward her gate.

“Bye Jude.”

He waved sadly.“I’ll see you soon, Naomi.”

-

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naomisinclair until next time, madrid.

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saturnville and so it begins!

-

[verysium]

PLEASE DO BLUE LOCK ICKS IM BEGGING🙏😭🌹

😏 coming right up anon. gonna channel my inner critic and not hold back on any of these.

RIN

brother complex. not much else to say except that he needs to get a life. not everything is about metaphorically crushing your older brother's dreams and brooding in the dark hate of retribution.

competitive but only because he is a desperate whore for external validation. ignores everyone but craves the attention of a sole person named sae itoshi. was defeated by isagi once and has never let go of it since. has a one-track mind that is impossible to derail. stubborn when he wants to be.

probably a virgin and will continue to be one until his late 30s.

has not known a single day of peace ever since sae ditched him for the popular girlies. as a result, he has developed a very concerning case of social awkwardness. his idea of a conversation involves a brick wall and thirty minutes of you staring at his resting bitch face. constantly looks like that one grumpy cat meme. judges you for your poor decisions but then gets aggressively defensive when you point out his own mistakes.

reeks of so much teen angst that even metallica can't save him. the problem is that he has nothing to back up his emo persona. his insults lack creativity and, unfortunately for him, phrases like "lukewarm" and "half-baked" and "hell" do not make his words carry more weight. uses the f-word but in the most embarrassing context that it makes you facepalm and internally cringe.

SAE

zero social awareness. this boy's head is empty. the lights are not on up there. there are no picture frames or furniture. the curtains are drawn, and there is not a sliver of clouds or sunshine. cannot read body language and does not know what a filter is.

the source of all of rin's stress. he is the original trauma projector, creator of generational cycles. not even subtle about it. "turns out i was wrong. i thought japan was incapable of ever giving birth to decent forwards." sir....with the way you worded that, you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave rin false hope.

swears but it's even worse than his brother. literally called his elders a "fatso and bob cut duo" and "insect turd." i mean....there is a line between what is considered a legitimate burn and what is a first grader making up insults in his coloring book.

has a horrible haircut and no fashion taste. i already talked about this previously, but it was so bad it deserved a second mention.

a freak but tries to justify it rationally. like what do you mean you can tell a person's athletic ability from their buttock size? just admit you have a kinky fetish already.

somewhat of a coward but i'm gonna give him some leniency due to his tragic child genius backstory. tbh he's just an eighteen-year-old boy who needs a goddamn break.

KAISER

alexa please play clown music. this man sets himself for failure and then wallows in self-pity when he actually fails. like what did you expect? you knew what was going to happen the moment you challenged isagi like that. it was most definitely your fault you got violently humbled.

has a borderline god complex (currently calls himself an emperor but has not evolved into a deity yet.) unfortunately, he does not stand on business. cue the dramatic meltdowns when he realizes there is an actual gap between his ability and his reputation. if you're going to lie, at least make it believable.

insecure and mentally unstable. he probably cuts and re-dyes his hair every single time shit happens. no wonder his locks get shorter every time.

lazy when it comes to anything that is not football and expects others to do it for him. demands princess treatment wherever he goes. unfortunately, not all of us have servants with no self-respect like ness.

"it is not enough that i should succeed, others should fail" type of person.

does not wear shoes and even if he does, it's sandals. put them grippers away.

NAGI

a literal sloth who has so much potential but uses none of it. has no intrinsic motivation of his own, so if he's going to do anything, it has to be you behind the wheel, making sure he gets put to work.

does not have a close relationship with his parents, and so he has no sense of community, holidays, or traditions. no fun at all if you want him to do things like christmas shopping or birthday celebrations.

rots in bed all day and then has to nerve to ask you to carry him around. your back better be strong because his 190 cm body is not going to be light.

not loyal (need i say more.)

REO

second male lead syndrome. also known as that one popular guy who's always picked last.

acts like a victim but then when you realistically tell him to how to change his situation he refuses to do so. you cannot ask for advice and then take none of it to heart. no wonder you're still not over your ex.

"i can fix him" mentality. no, you can't. you are a seventeen-year-old child, not a licensed therapist and nagi isn't even all that.

NESS

touch-starved to the point he will stay in a toxic and abusive relationship in order to gain some scrap of affection. just because you were the black sheep of your family does not mean you can lose all sense of personal dignity.

probably stalks all the people he hates. has a burn book like regina george from mean girls. cuts out and glues little pictures of kaiser all over his bedroom. doodles hearts all over it with glittery gel pen. isagi's face and name are scratched out of every team photo.

delusional and prone to mood swings. medicated but at this point, he is beyond saving.

ISAGI

a home wrecker. has ruined more relationships than he can count on ten fingers yet still manages to smile like he's some angelic saint.

solves jigsaw puzzles for a living (not very cool if you ask me.)

has some unresolved anger management issues. probably repressed all his negative feelings when he was younger, so it all comes out when he's on the field. unfortunately, his twilight-sparkle-friendship-is-magic agenda is not going to work if he keeps cussing out his teammates like that. but then again, he is the main character, so i guess his plot armor makes up for his pitfalls.

says that he's a good guy but then holds personal vendettas against rivals he doesn't like. boy was so ready to throw hands when #kaisagi was trending on the internet. but when you actually think about, he's similar to kaiser in more ways than he'd like to admit.

BAROU

has the worst case of high and mighty "holier-than-thou" attitude. isagi put his ego in check, but it still peeks out from time to time.

he was the ugliest baby when he was born. i am not going to hold back on the child barou slander because it is true. no, he was not a cute and lovable bundle of joy. he looked like a demonic gremlin.

he needs to take more risks in life and try cross-dressing. simply imagining him in a maid uniform will not suffice. it needs to be made into a reality.

with how nit-picky he is, i doubt people can realistically stay within a 1-meter radius around him. unless you are a clean freak yourself, his constant complaints will start to get annoying after a time. even if he does have good intentions, he needs to let people have a little breathing room sometimes. a messy room is not going to kill you.

BACHIRA

this boy's brain is smooth. no folds. no gray matter. no intelligence either. his pencil and eraser have been left untouched since day one. if he wasn't crazily good at football, he would be unemployed and homeless in the future. not even a mcdonald's wants him.

one of those people who will do the literal opposite of whatever you say. you want him to stop talking? well, now he's never going to shut up. you tell him not to step on a pile of dog shit? well, now he's going to walk right into it. you want him to quit running around and act normal? well, now it's his life's mission to make you as annoyed as possible. please pray for your hair follicles because at the end of the day, you're not going to have many left with how much he makes you want to tear your hair out.

has the cerebral capacity of a toddler. if he thinks monsters are real, he's going to think anything is real. super gullible when it comes to any form of scam, ploy, or trickery. the only way he would not be fooled is if he's also played the same prank before.

SHIDOU

a brazen pervert. says the most out-of-pocket things and refuses to apologize for them. sometimes it comes out a little too sleazy for your liking.

"to me a goal is fertilization! a shot is the seed and the goal is the egg!! and the birth of that joy i call an explosion!! my genes are gonna knock you up!" let us give ourselves a moment of silence to digest this quote. only shidou ryusei would come up with a sperm and egg metaphor to describe football. (i guess protection means nothing to him.)

has no empathy. if you dislike him or cannot keep up with him, you're a literal nobody in his books. no sportsmanship. no compassion. no self-awareness.

you cannot say "balls" to him in a serious tone without him misinterpreting it as something dirty. that alone should tell you enough. stay the hell away from him.

where do men get the audacity? right here. from this little bastard. he invented the term "shameless slut." boy was getting off during the u-20 arc and on live TV too. no wonder sae said he was disgusting.

and finally, he comes from a long line of cockroaches. he's even got the antennae to prove it.

i think this might have been a little excessive, but i have no regrets about it. you're welcome anon ♡

[lunarw0rks]

hi!! just wanted to stop in and give an idea ig

141 with a reader who’s like a mother hen after a mission, making sure everyone’s not injured, and god forbid they are, she’s trying to stop the bleeding, and scolding soap for being so reckless!! even after they get back to base after a long day, she’s fussy.

IDK JUST A RANDOM BLURB??

A/N: Such a cute idea, not one I would've thought of on my own! Hope I did the request justice <3

Summary: It's in your nature, the motherly role you feel towards the other members of the Task Force. Patching up their injuries, and scolding the two most reckless ones, it's all become routine.

Warning(s): platonic!141, fem!reader, canon-typical violence, blood/minor injury mention, mild language, suggestive banter, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.1k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

Troublemakers // Drabble

Though you hadn’t said a word on the ride back, at least outside of ones pertaining to the operation, the look on your face said enough. For every mission, no matter the time and place, something goes wrong—someone gets hurt.

“Anybody broken?” Captain Price comes through the comms, the static crackling through the jeep.

“Everybody’s fine, Captain. For now.” Your voice hissed back into the radio, eyes scanning their faces for any signs of an injury. Right now, there weren’t any signs. But the second this jeep stopped, there was no way in hell they were getting past you without you at least checking. It had become your unofficial job; the mother of the team, the medic without an official title, even the ‘buzzkill’ at some points.

There was no time to fuss over them at first, during evac. Everyone had piled into the vehicles too quickly, and you were eager to get out of there just as much. You were a natural nurturer, but not blinded by your instincts—there was a chain of command, after all. When your Captain says to evac, you evac, no questions.

Once the titles and formalities fizzled out, once the comms went quiet, that side of you always came out.

The jeep was moving at high speeds, and the passing landscape was a blur. A secluded, abandoned field where the operation went wrong; the taperings of town turning into the city; fizzled out until it turned into the secluded dry field again—when you reached the base.

In usual fashion, everyone got out first, and you last.

It was second nature, ushering them out like a clown car, then examining the inside of the empty vehicle to make sure nobody forgot anything. It was comical to them, so comical they still shot amused looks as you cased the car. Any further into this role, and you would start saying “C’mon kids” every time you went somewhere with them.

Another challenge to their chivalry was the way you held the door open for each of them, eyes glued to them as pursed your lips in discontent. But, they knew the drill just as well as you did.

First, you peered at Simon, though he just walked by with his usual scowl, probably finding a dark corner to brood in. He was the only one you didn’t bother to fuss over, unless you wanted to get chewed out, naturally.

It was the other two you were the most concerned about—Gaz and Soap, the troublemakers. If you could call them that in the field, you would have a thousand times already, and most likely more than that, knowing them.

Heavy sighs filled the room, sweaty brows wiped as they relieved their bodies of the extra pounds their gear gave them. Vests and buckles undone, muscles stretched as the adrenaline coursing through each of you steadied itself.

For once, you were also overjoyed to see the bland walls of this base, and them too, as much as they gave you grief. Each mission was like watching a toddler climb up to the top of a playset, waiting for the inevitable injury that comes once they fall—and every time, your hammering heart nearly came through your chest.

Yes, they were grown men, trained soldiers, but that instinct still prevailed. You couldn’t trust them with your life if they didn’t have theirs, could you? The world kept turning, and the clocks kept ticking, all as long as you played your maternal part in this arrangement.

You squinted at the two troublemakers, that gut instinct showing itself. “You sure nothing went wrong, you two? No blood?” It was a series of accusations, not naive questions. You knew something was up, there was that bubbling in your chest.

Gaz’s lip tightened into a line like he was trying not to reveal the truth. “No blood.” What a liar, and a bad one at that. Knowing these two, Soap was probably pinching his skin where you couldn’t see, trying to contort it until you were left with no suspicions.

There was no way you could force the truth out, so if they didn’t want your help, they weren’t getting it from you.

With a slow nod, you began to take off your own gear, gathering your pack and all the extras. Perhaps, for once, it would be a happy ending. You would settle into your dorm, lay back on your cot, and catch up on some paperwork, maybe even some light reading—

Well, that fantasy came about as quickly as it went.

Soap’s palm was hovering over his side, letting out a grunt of pain when he put his backpack over his shoulders. He had turned so abruptly, nearly scampering down to reach his own dorm. But he wasn’t quick enough, and your iron grip on his wrist—it was as unyielding as your grit.

“C’mon, I’m fine, Lass.” Soap grunts, like a child embarrassed when his mother dabs his face with a napkin. “It’s just a—”

“—a scratch?” You scoff, lightly smacking your free hand against his tender side. No matter how tough he was, how well he thought he was going to hide it, he had keeled over and held the spot you barely made contact with.

Gaz was attempting to contain his laughter, which was only met with the kick of one of Soap’s legs to his shin.

You couldn’t believe it, from causing trouble and bickering to working as a team and failing miserably.

The grip on Soap’s wrist loosened, instead now on the strap of his bag, gently sliding it off his tender shoulder. “Let me look at it, please.” You pleaded, trying to keep your tone both firm but concerned all at once. It seems it wasn’t just a scratch; once again you were right.

“I got nothin’ but admiration for you, why do you do this to me?” Soap whines, still not budging and letting you examine the wounds.

You ran your tongue over the inside of your cheek, cocking a brow at him. “Sit down, Johnny. Now.”

Your finger was pointing at one of the spare dining chairs in the kitchenette, and it wasn’t a request either. He knew that by now. Soap could try and swoon you, butter you up until you left it alone, but it wouldn’t work.

“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was defeated, but he still had a smirk on his face, like he was enjoying the attention.

Gaz snickered from behind you, and you could hear him begin his trek out of the room. “Better to just listen to the lady, or she won’t stop.”

Before you could even lay eyes on Soap’s injury, your head snapped in Gaz’s direction. He was on just as thin of ice, he was only lucky you could tolerate his jokes. “You’re part of this too, Gaz. I suggest you don’t wander too far.”

It was ironic; men who had worked so hard, trained to kill, and yet, they were downright gutless when in your sights, especially when caught in a lie.

All apart from Simon, who maintained the same distance with you as everyone else—that you could accept, it was just the way he was. But from these two clowns? Not for a second.

It wasn’t coming from thin air, either, this was a two-sided deal. The first time you were injured in the field, you attempted to diminish it, to write it off and suffer by yourself. It went about as well for you as it was for Soap right now—forced into a chair and stitched up with an icy glare, one that says “don’t ever do that again” without any actual words surfacing.

That’s how you knew this wasn’t in vain, even if your work didn’t always come with a response of gratitude.

You were strong where they were weak—and in return, they would quite literally kill for you, in and out of the field. God knows you’ve had to hold them back more than a few times; order comes out wrong at the restaurant, you get ghosted after a date, or someone insults your abilities as a soldier? It’s a mess.

Your eyes stayed on Soap’s pout through the reflection of the window above the sink, scrubbing away the grime on your hands before you got to work on him. In mere minutes, you’d retrieved the very used first aid kit, laying out any supplies you might need. Knowing him, it could be as small as a papercut, or a gushing wound under the fabric of his shirt.

He had already removed his, cheeks rosy and lips crinkled like you hadn’t seen this a thousand times. Not to mention, you were patching him up, not asking for a striptease. He was the one making things awkward, for the record.

Aside from the dirt, the scars, and small scrapes, it was an injury that needed to be looked at, regardless of how stubborn the patient was. A nasty bruise was forming on his peck area and below it a gash with some tiny glass shards still embedded in it. The shoulder had no visible injury, but based on how tender the skin was, he had sprained it again.

“Christ. How do you manage this? It was a simple sweep mission, MacTavish.” You shook your head in disapproval, putting on a pair of disposable gloves with a loud snap of the blue latex.

He takes the hits like a dog that knows he’s in trouble, only it's a look of acceptance rather than apprehension. It was coming from a place of care, not anger, and by God did Soap’s reckless behavior make your heart drop often.

Your rambles continued, almost as if you were talking to yourself. Your fingers worked carefully, using the tweezers to get any debris out of there.

“Can you do anything about this, Captain?” Soap’s words made your work slow, not stop.

“No, I cannot, Sergeant.” Even Price was aware of this dynamic, and frankly, he was thankful for it, one less person to worry about getting in trouble. You scolded it, didn’t partake in it—and that left less paternal instincts of his own to run dry.

Price’s boots retreated without another word, probably to work tirelessly in his office for the rest of the night. Now, it was clear to Soap that there really was no way out of this, no way to shimmy away from your caring nature.

Might as well take advantage of it the only way he knew how. “You look like you need a drink, Lass. Always so tense.”

You stared up at him through your lashes, wrapping the gauze a little tighter than you usually would. What were you supposed to say to that? He was right, you could use a drink, but he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of being right—being right was your job.

Before you could utter a witty response, Simon spoke up for the first time since the mission. “She has a scalpel at the ready, Johnny. I would tread lightly if I were you.” For once, his cynical humor had landed on your side, and it nearly made you spit out a laugh, if you weren’t so focused.

If you were as childish as Soap, you might’ve said I told you so, but your stern look said enough. After you finished disinfecting the wounds, you bandaged them up, patting the cotton with your fingers to make it stick.

“All better now, just don’t do it again.” A satisfied beam appeared on your face, that worry in your gut dissipating when he was patched up. “Please?” Now, it was desperate and anxiety-filled.

He probably would do something like this again, but maybe next time he would at least think first, and you could live with that.

Soaps fingers find his shirt, slipping it over his head slowly with a pained groan. “I can’t promise that.” Then, they find the nearest bottle of whiskey, in true fashion for him. “But I’ll find you first next time, ask permission to get hurt.”

You scoffed and let out a sarcastic ha-ha, but stepped back enough to give him space, discarding the gloves into the waste basket. Once he had collected his things, keeping them in his uninjured arm this time, a cheek smirk appeared again.

He waited until you had turned your back to wash your hands again, and to be safe, a few feet further from you. “Thanks, Mom.” Soap turned on his heels and whipped around the corner, down the hall before you could show him your face of shock.

On second thought, maybe next time he wouldn’t have to ask to get hurt, and it would be your own two hands making him pay for that comment.

[namicakes]

Hiii Can I ask Levi Ackerman or Megumi Fushiguro who's s/o is their polar opposites?

y'know? their s/o's like extrovert and sunshines and cupcakes while he was like all grays and dullness

Of Shadows & Sunshines.

Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader

Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

Note:( Fluff fic, Levi's in modern au. I kinda indulge myself in this fics because I am someone who loves the odd things in life, a very random person, and a very extrovert fella.)

Fushiguro Megumi

The first time Megumi Fushiguro met Y/N, he was baffled. She was like a burst of sunlight piercing through the gray clouds he’d grown accustomed to—bright, playful, unreserved. And he, well, he was used to shadows, to quiet places and serious thoughts. Y/N was the polar opposite of him, and yet, for reasons he couldn’t fully grasp, her presence felt… comforting.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Megumi, in his typical fashion, was brooding under a tree, book in hand. He wasn’t one to draw attention; in fact, he thrived in the art of going unnoticed. But that day, Y/N happened upon him, her arms full of a dozen shopping bags, her hair wild from the wind, and her smile brighter than the sun itself.

“Oh, hey there!” she said, plopping down beside him without a second thought. She dropped her bags unceremoniously, tilting her head with a curious grin. “What’s with the gloomy vibe? You look like you’re studying the meaning of life.”

Megumi blinked at her, unsure of how to respond. “I’m… just reading.”

She peered over his shoulder, her face lighting up with fascination. “A mystery novel? Oh, I love mysteries! The thrill, the suspense…” she paused, looking him up and down with a teasing glint in her eye. “But you don’t seem like the thrill-seeker type.”

“No,” he said plainly, slightly bewildered by her energy. She seemed to have an endless supply of it, her aura buzzing with liveliness.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence—Megumi reading his book, and Y/N rummaging through her bags. She pulled out a tiny stuffed cat with bright blue eyes and handed it to him with a grin. “Here, I found this in one of those claw machines. I thought you might like it. You know, to balance out all that seriousness.”

Megumi took the stuffed cat reluctantly, feeling the softness of the fabric against his palm. It was strange, yet… oddly charming. “Thanks,” he said, his voice a bit softer.

Y/N beamed at him, and that was how it all started. One little stuffed cat and a sunny afternoon that changed everything.

Y/N was like a whirlwind, sweeping into his life with her boundless energy and unapologetic enthusiasm for the oddest things. She adored colors—her clothes, her notebooks, her accessories, all a riot of hues that seemed to light up any space she entered. Megumi, who preferred a palette of dark blues and blacks, couldn’t understand how someone could wear so much color without feeling overwhelmed. But Y/N carried it effortlessly, as if the vibrancy matched her very soul.

One day, she convinced him to go to an art exhibit with her, an exhibit famous for its interactive, color-splashed displays. At first, Megumi felt out of place, hands in his pockets, trying to look inconspicuous amidst the vivid chaos. But Y/N was in her element, her eyes bright as she pointed out every little detail with such joy, he couldn’t help but be drawn in.

“Look at this one!” she said, tugging his hand toward a wall filled with a hundred tiny mirrors reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. She laughed, taking a photo of their reflections, the playful colors bouncing off their faces.

He found himself smiling despite himself. “You know, I don’t usually do this sort of thing,” he murmured, glancing at her. “But… it’s not terrible.”

Y/N nudged him playfully. “Well, I’ll make a rebel out of you yet, Fushiguro.”

And he couldn’t help but laugh, a soft sound he rarely allowed himself. Y/N had a way of disarming him, of peeling back the layers he’d carefully wrapped around himself, making him forget, just for a moment, that the world was anything but bright.

It wasn’t just her color or her brightness that made Megumi fall in love with her. It was the way she saw beauty in the smallest things, the way she embraced life with such vigor and joy that he couldn’t look away.

She loved taking pictures of odd things—a lone dandelion on the sidewalk, raindrops on a spiderweb, or even his frowning face whenever he realized she was snapping a candid shot of him. “You always look so serious!” she’d tease, giggling at his usual scowl.

But it was in those small moments that Megumi began to understand just how much she meant to him. He realized that he loved the way she noticed the beauty in what others overlooked. She’d sit for ages, watching a butterfly in flight or admiring a colorful storefront display, talking excitedly about things he never would have given a second thought to.

He loved the way she’d burst into laughter over silly jokes, or how she’d pull him along on spontaneous adventures—like the time she convinced him to go stargazing. They’d ended up lying in the grass, looking up at the night sky as she pointed out constellations, her voice full of wonder.

“You see that one?” she whispered, pointing. “The one that looks like a heart?”

He followed her gaze, though all he could see were scattered stars. “I think that’s just wishful thinking, Y/N.”

She laughed softly, rolling onto her side to face him. “You’re probably right. But sometimes, wishful thinking is enough.”

Megumi met her gaze, his heart beating a little faster. Maybe, he thought, wishful thinking was enough for him too.

As their relationship grew, they found a unique balance—a harmony between his steady calm and her effervescent joy. Megumi grounded her, gave her a safe space to rest, a place where she didn’t have to be endlessly cheerful or “on.” And she, in turn, brought him to life, her vibrant energy weaving color into the otherwise gray world he lived in.

She’d bring him gifts—little trinkets and silly souvenirs from her adventures. One day, she handed him a small snow globe with a tiny fox inside. “To keep you company,” she said with a grin. “Since you seem to like foxes.”

He didn’t tell her that it was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given him, nor that he kept it by his bedside, where he could see it each morning.

Their dates were simple but memorable—picnics in the park, late-night walks through the city, or quiet afternoons where she’d curl up beside him with a book of her own, her head resting on his shoulder. They didn’t need words; just being together, feeling each other’s presence, was enough.

But there were also days when he’d let her into his world—the quieter, shadowed corners he often kept hidden. When he had nightmares, she was there, stroking his hair, whispering reassurances, her gentle presence a balm for his troubled mind.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know,” she’d say, her voice soft but unwavering. “I’m here for you.”

And he knew she meant it. For the first time in his life, he had someone he could rely on, someone who loved him without conditions, without fear.

Their life together became a beautiful mix of contrasts—a blending of shadows and light, of quiet strength and boundless joy. Their apartment was a reflection of them, filled with small reminders of their adventures together. Y/N’s colorful plants filled the corners, while Megumi’s books lined the shelves, an odd yet perfect combination of their worlds.

She still teased him endlessly, sneaking little notes into his pockets, drawing funny doodles on his calendar, and taking candid photos of him whenever he wasn’t paying attention. But he didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it—every bit of it. Her presence softened his edges, brightened the darker parts of his life, and filled his heart with a warmth he hadn’t thought he could feel.

One evening, as they lay together on the couch, Y/N’s head resting on his chest, Megumi felt a rare surge of contentment, a peace he’d only ever found in her presence. He looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” she asked, glancing up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Nothing,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her a little tighter. “Just… I love you.”

Her smile grew, lighting up her entire face. “I love you too, Mr. Gloomy.”

And as they lay together, surrounded by the life they had built, Megumi knew he’d found something precious, something he would hold onto forever—a light that would guide him through any shadow, a love that was both his strength and his joy.

Levi Ackerman

In a world where cold grays and muted tones painted the backdrop of Levi Ackerman's life, she was an unexpected burst of color. Y/N was a bouquet of pastels in a sea of monochrome, a song hummed under her breath in a silent room, a gentle chaos he could never have imagined wanting to keep close. But that was the irony of it, wasn’t it? Levi Ackerman, the man who could navigate the darkest corners without a stumble, fell in love with the bright, unabashed spirit of Y/N.

Levi met her on a rainy day, a day where the world felt as if it were washed out, color leached by the storm. He was finishing a particularly long shift, rain dripping from his dark coat as he ducked into a quiet cafe, hoping for a moment’s reprieve. But as he stepped in, he was met with the sight of her—a girl leaning against the counter, umbrella in hand, with a pink raincoat and matching rubber boots, every bit as bright and out of place as he was dark and muted.

She was taking a picture of her coffee cup, her phone angled just so, a soft smile on her face as she seemed to capture something only she could see. Levi found himself oddly captivated by the sight. There was a warmth in her gaze, a gentle energy, and before he even realized it, he’d spent the next fifteen minutes watching her in silence.

When she finally looked up, her eyes locked with his, and she gave him a small, inviting smile. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Levi felt his heart skip, just once.

It was enough.

The days that followed found him gravitating toward the places she loved—quiet cafes, local markets, small parks where she would sit on a pastel pink blanket, taking pictures of the flowers. Levi, ever the silent observer, watched from the edges, trying to puzzle her out, trying to understand what it was about her that fascinated him so.

They were opposites in every sense. Levi’s life was built on efficiency, on order. His apartment was a fortress of monochrome, clean and spartan, with barely a trace of warmth. And yet, somehow, he found himself drawn to Y/N’s world, one brimming with pastel colors and playful chaos.

She collected toys—small trinkets and dolls that Levi, at first, thought were the very definition of clutter. But when he saw her arranging them with care, dusting them off one by one, he realized there was something almost reverent about the way she held them. Each toy had a story, a place in her world, and he began to see them through her eyes—not as clutter, but as pieces of her heart, each one filled with a unique charm.

It was the first time Levi had seen beauty in something so seemingly pointless.

One day, after much consideration, he found himself at her doorstep, a small teddy bear in his hand. It was simple and gray, a gentle compromise between their worlds, but when he handed it to her, her eyes lit up with a joy that left him breathless. She hugged it to her chest, then hugged him, and Levi knew he was lost.

Their relationship became a blend of contradictions—a careful balance of shadows and pastels, of Levi’s quiet intensity and Y/N’s playful energy. Her apartment, with its walls adorned in light pink and delicate fairy lights, became a sanctuary he never expected to find himself in. Every time he stepped inside, he felt a strange sense of calm, a warmth that wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

She loved taking pictures, capturing the odd moments in life that most people overlooked. Levi, who could barely stand being in a photo, found himself becoming her favorite subject. She’d catch him in quiet moments—pouring tea, gazing out the window, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of her hair. At first, he’d grumble, scowl even, but she’d only laugh, assuring him that one day he’d see the beauty she saw.

And, over time, he did.

He began to cherish the photos she took, even the silly ones. They were moments of joy captured in small frames—snapshots of a life he hadn’t known he wanted. His heart softened with each one, the edges of his world brightened by her light.

Their relationship grew like a secret garden, each moment a petal, each memory a vine that intertwined their lives. Levi loved the mornings spent in her little haven, the scent of her flowery perfume lingering in the air as she prepared coffee for them both. They would sit together, he with his stoic silence and she with her gentle chatter, filling the spaces he couldn’t.

There was no singular moment when he realized he loved her. It happened gradually, like ink seeping into fabric, coloring everything from the inside out. He fell in love with her laughter, with the way she looked at the world with such unyielding optimism. He fell in love with the way she respected his need for silence, but filled it with a warmth he never knew he’d craved.

Her kindness was like a balm, softening the edges of his heart, filling the cracks with a love he hadn’t thought he deserved. She’d bring him tiny gifts, odd trinkets that she thought he’d find amusing—a small cactus for his windowsill, a bookmark with a quote she thought he’d like, a little keychain of a cleaning bottle she’d said “looked like him.” He never thought he’d enjoy receiving such things, yet they became treasures he kept close.

Every time he felt himself falling deeper, Y/N’s world caught him. And he let himself fall.

Living with her was both chaotic and beautifully simple. Her room was a symphony of pink and white, organized yet vibrant, decorated with soft pillows and delicate trinkets, each one meticulously placed. Levi, always the neat freak, never thought he’d be comfortable surrounded by so much color, yet he found himself helping her dust her toy collection, or adjust the fairy lights she adored. He was meticulous, she was creative, and together, they created a harmony that made him feel alive.

He loved watching her take pictures, capturing the fleeting beauty of life’s smallest moments—a flower, a butterfly, his own hand reaching for her. Sometimes, she’d hand him her phone and ask him to take a picture of her with a new toy, her eyes shining with delight. He’d grumble about it, but she knew he’d do anything for her.

Their worlds merged seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. She brought light into his life, softening the harsh edges, while he grounded her, his quiet strength a constant she could always rely on. She showed him that love didn’t have to be loud, didn’t have to shout to be real—it could be found in quiet moments, in shared silences, in the warmth of a pink-hued room filled with laughter and warmth.

One evening, as they sat together in her room, her head resting on his shoulder, Levi looked around at the pink walls, the fairy lights casting a soft glow, her toy collection carefully arranged on the shelves. And he realized that this was his home now, not the empty apartment he used to live in. Y/N was his home.

With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he whispered the words he’d held inside for too long. “I love you, Y/N.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide, a smile blossoming on her lips. “I love you too, Levi. Even if you are a bit of a neat freak.”

And as she laughed, her voice filling the room, Levi felt something he hadn’t felt in years: a sense of peace, a certainty that this was where he was meant to be. In a world softened by pastels, his shadows finally felt at rest.

Levi Ackerman, the man who had spent his life in shades of gray, had found his heart painted in hues of pink. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[touchme-teezme]

Fashion Week.

— mingi ver.

PAIRING | ateez mingi x genderneutral!reader

TAGS | (kind of?) fluff, meet cute, alternate universe, model!mingi has a crush

RATINGS | SFW

SONGS | fashion killa by A$AP Rocky, I THINK by Tyler, the Creator

SUMMARY | it’s your first day of working at fashion week and you fucked up without even entering the gates. that’s when you needed mingi’s help to make sure you didn’t get fired.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is my first fanfic!! ahhhh (confetti machines explodes) so please be nice huhu. this was something i came up with while actually working at fashion week this year lmao so this is very self-indulgent. a fantasy if you will. i’m also kinda salty that milan & paris fashion week didn’t invite mingi, so i will. letting him walk too mama. models should be grateful this fine ass man chose to be ateez’s rapper. that’s all, okie bye—enjoy.

Milan Fashion Week.

One of the biggest events of the year is being held right here in Italy. Starting today in Montenapoleone, the most exquisite tailoring, the longest legs, and the prettiest faces walk a special runway, while the famous, powerful, and influential gathered to witness what the world would be wearing for years to come.

Understanding the weight of this moment, and how fortunate you were to be part of it, it was today, of all days, that you were running late.

Jostling through the crowded public transport, the stifling heat of the subway still clinging to you, you emerged onto the bustling streets. Honking cars trapped in gridlock loomed like a barrier between you and the entrance to Fashion Week. 

You weaved through the chaos, silently praying that nothing had fallen out of your purse—the zipper had been open the entire time. When you finally reached the gate, security stopped you, informing you that guests were about to arrive and the staff entrance was now closed. Only those with crew tags could be admitted, and they had been distributed during assembly—an hour and a half ago.

You sent a silent prayer for a miracle, but it seemed even God was sitting this one out. Pleading with the guards got you nowhere. You couldn’t call your boss; this was your first mistake of the season, and if fashion had taught you anything, it was to take initiative and fix problems before they reached your boss.

Circling the building like a shark hunting for a way in, you spotted him.

A face like an angel, wrapped in a sleek black Saint Laurent coat. You recognized him from today’s model lineup: fourteen shows, 6’3", lean build, size 43 shoes—Song Mingi, the season's newest sensation.

He’d been scouted in Incheon while buying a sandwich at a convenience store. Your friend in the industry took one look at him, got his details, and flew him out for a casting. He stole the show and was signed that same day.

He looked a little lost, scanning his surroundings with a phone pressed to his ear. Judging by how he hung up and stared down at his phone, whoever he’d called hadn’t answered.

Mustering your courage, you approached him. Tapping him on the shoulder, he turned, towering even more up close.

“Hi, you’re opening the first show, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said, studying your face as if he should recognize you.

“I’m with Fashion Week,” you said, hoping to reassure him. He sighed in relief.

“Thank God. I’ve been trying to figure out who I’m supposed to meet. I’ve got this that I’m supposed to trade for an access tag, but no one’s shown up to get me and help.”

“That’d be me,” you lied smoothly. Admitting the truth would’ve been a disaster. “I’ll take you in.”

“Awesome! So, uh... do we just go in with this?”

“Yeah, actually, pass it to me, and I’ll get you checked in.”

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, his tone completely at odds with his dark, brooding look.

As he handed over his tag, you finally had your golden ticket. Glancing around the crowded street, you nudged him, “Let’s go.”

He didn’t hesitate, looping his arm through yours. You both walked—though you had to pick up your pace to match his long strides—heading for the back entrance. Flashing Mingi’s card for the exchange with the guards and ushers in the front, you passed yourself off as his manager and were waved through with the temporary yellow wristband that lets you in.

Relief flooded through you when the plan worked.

You handed Mingi back his tag, reminding him to wait until he was called. You guided him to the model green room, where other models should be waiting.

“Dude, there you are!” one of the models greeted him as soon as you both walked in.

“Yunho!” you heard Mingi call his friend. “So I kind of overslept this morning and—”

“On the first day? Brutal.”

You slipped past the towering figures without a glance, heading straight for your station.

Unbeknownst to you, Mingi peeked over his friends’ shoulders, watching as you disappeared backstage, wanting to thank you, but the words never made it past his lips.

Before you knew it, it was showtime. You slipped into place just in time, heart still pounding from the earlier chaos, but no one seemed to notice your absence. You did everything you could to ensure the show went smoothly, handling last-minute changes, guiding models, and coordinating with the backstage crew.

And then, the lights dimmed. The music swelled. The air hummed with anticipation.

That’s when the white curtains dropped, and Mingi emerged. Now transformed with styled hair and makeup, zipped into an avant-garde masterpiece that must’ve taken hundreds of hours to perfect. He strutted down the runway as if he had been doing this for years, though you knew it was his very first show.

He exuded a natural talent and presence that had the audience captivated. But it wasn’t just his walk. There was something magnetic about him, something raw yet polished enough to turn heads.

For a brief moment, his eyes swept across the room and locked onto yours. You froze, convinced that he was looking directly at you rather than the sea of cameras and faces in the front row. You could’ve sworn he smirked as he turned to make his way back up the runway, leaving your heart still racing.

As the show continued, you found yourself catching glimpses of him every now and then backstage—during quick changes, makeup touch-ups, or casual interactions with the other models. Each time, he seemed more relaxed, slipping easily into conversations, though his gaze always seemed to linger just a moment too long when he spotted you.

You headed backstage to run an errand, and there he was—leaning casually against the wall, waiting for his next cue. He looked relaxed, with clips in his gelled hair keeping it flat and perfectly styled. As soon as he spotted you, a grin spread across his face.

"Hey, stranger," Mingi said, straightening up as you approached, hunting down a specific box in the corner. 

“So I heard something funny.”

“What’s that?” you asked, fishing out magazines wrapped in plastic and passing it off to the frazzled intern waiting behind you.

“The guy who was actually supposed to get me this morning? He was apparently searching for me outside for like, twenty minutes but I’m glad to see you actually work here and that I wasn’t an accomplice to some rogue crasher.”

You chuckled, continuing to hand off the magazines to the intern, who was struggling to keep up. “Okay, full disclosure—I was totally winging it this morning. I was late, I didn’t have my pass and used you to get in.”

“So I was a ruse?”

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, glancing at the intern balancing the heavy stack. “Take these to reception, and give them out after this slot ends,” you instructed, watching her scurry off.

Mingi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I see."

“Desperate times,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “Sorry about that.”

“No need,” he said, leaning in slightly with a conspiratorial grin. “To be honest, I was too stressed to think straight too. First-show jitters and all.”

“Jitters? Your walk didn’t look like it was your first show at all.”

Mingi shrugged with an easy smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned in a little more, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on a secret. “Honestly? I’m just pretending I know what I’m doing.”

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease a little as the conversation flowed. “Well, that makes two of us and you’re pulling it off way better than me.”

He grinned. “You look like you’ve got it all under control, though.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Looks can be deceiving.”

His smile lingered as his eyes held yours a moment longer. Then, his name was called from across the room. He glanced over his shoulder, clearly needed elsewhere, but before he left, he turned back to you, his voice a little softer. “See you after the show?”

You nodded, unable to help the smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, maybe," you said, your voice softening as he walked away.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of people, clothes and camera flashes. Every so often, you’d catch sight of Mingi, either on the runway or during chaotic backstage moments. And every time, he’d either flash you a grin or give you a subtle nod, like you were sharing some inside joke.

By the time the final show wrapped up, exhaustion was beginning to settle in. You were busy packing up when you felt a tap on your arm. You turned to see Mingi standing there, dressed in the clothes he wore this morning, but with his last runway makeup still on and his hair was slightly messy from the rush.

“So… I made it through my first day,” he said, beaming at you.

“Congratulations. Thirteen more to go,” you replied, returning his smile.

“You know, I wouldn’t have made it without you,” he teased, his voice softer now.

You waved it off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh please, you were the star today. I didn’t do anything, I just brought you backstage.”

“Well,” he said, his eyes twinkling, “I think you deserve some credit too.”

Before you could respond, a silence settled between you—one that felt comfortable, yet charged with something unspoken. He shifted his weight, hesitating for a moment.

“Are you sticking around after this?” he asked, leaning slightly closer.

You glanced around, noticing the crew still milling about but the bulk of the work nearly done. “Yeah, I’ll be here for a bit. Why?”

Mingi looked down, as if weighing his words before meeting your gaze again. “I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a drink or something.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the chaotic backstage scene—the racks of clothing, the scattered equipment, and the crew members still rushing around. Your excitement deflated a little as the reality of your responsibilities sank in. The day wasn’t quite over for you.

“I’d love to, really,” you started, biting your lip, “but I’ve got to stay for cleanup and a team brief afterward. It’s going to be a long night.”

Mingi’s smile faltered for a second before he gave a small nod, his expression softening with understanding. “Ah, I see. Duty calls, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t imagine doing what you do. You guys really are the backbone in all this, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit down today.”

You gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, I should’ve been a model so the only move I would be doing is down that catwalk.”

Mingi laughed, a warm sound that made you momentarily forget how tired you were. “You’d probably pull it off.”

“Not with my schedule,” you shot back, shaking your head. “Or y’know… all this.” You gestured to yourself.

“Nah don’t say that. You’re gorgeous.”

Your stomach flipped. “The model height requirement, I mean.”

Mingi’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he scratched the back of his head. He shifted his weight, biting back a shit-eating grin, as if debating whether to say something more. Then, his voice dropped a little, almost teasing. “Well, if you happen to finish early… maybe I’ll still be around.”

This guy...

You tried to keep your cool. “You should just go. Your call time is early tomorrow. Now that you’ve got your tag, you can just come in through the same entrance.”

He held your gaze, his smile lingering a little too long, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Damn. I was hoping you’d come save me again.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as he gave one last playful salute before turning and walking off. If only you’d love your job less, you would’ve been getting drinks with a fucking model right now.