#reblog with your ideas and I may include them :)))
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I also think it's worth being pedantic about important things...and in that spirit I've spent like an hour writing and deleting various responses to this one (I found myself over-policing my tone and stopped that, so I'll just say right off I have no ill-will toward you and appreciate the contributions, even as I disagree on interpretation in several ways):
First, your tags - "for example a book can really kick off a delusion and set something off that can be traumatic." As I've said in another reblog thread, but it deserves repeating, triggering delusions, compulsions, or PTSD or adjustment disorder symptoms is not the same as causing trauma. We should try to accommodate people with triggers, and much of this accommodation will need to be individualized because the range of potential triggers is vast and often does not include things conventionally recognized as upsetting. I had a loved one make an irreversible error because of a delusion he had that was fueled by the due date on his library card being coincidentally the same as the date of his dentist appointment. That's not a reason for us to have a cultural conversation about the format of due date stickers. Though it could call for a discussion of how we can best support people who are experiencing delusional thinking or psychosis (we are currently doing very badly).
Re: vicarious trauma. Reading the Wikipedia article, I see that the examples given are of real life events reported on in the media, primarily social media and news coverage in the wake of terrorist attacks. I'm not going to get too deep into personal experience here, but let's just say this is not my first time hearing of vicarious trauma, and the important thing is that it is a real response to real harm and disaster. I wouldn't refuse evidence, but have not seen any, that it's caused by 13 Reasons Why or The Bridge to Terebithia or Outlander. (Bellingcat has useful advice for safety and 'metal hygiene' when engaging with firsthand sources of violence. I might use similar techniques when watching clips from a horror movie, but the stakes are not the same. Also, heads up that anyone who clicks through that link will read some text about distressing real-life events.)
"Books can have a significant impact on someone’s mind and outlook and that’s why they want them to be banned." < I agree and I think when people talk about how they don't want kids (or others) to read books about death, violence, sex, etc, they are participating in this. Authoritarians want us to have very particular ideas about these topics and resist any alternative information or thinking about them. When people go around saying "Learning or thinking about something upsetting is the same as being traumatized" they are doing the work of Christofascist Censorship Attempts, and I don't care if it's accidental. We don't need to compromise with them. (I don't have room to open this can of worms fully, but I also think too many people go around saying--for example--"13 Reasons Why traumatized me, I can't believe any library would let a kid read it" and thus send a message to the people around them with real-life experience with suicide, suicidal ideation, etc. that their experiences are unspeakable, untouchable. This social stigma is incredibly harmful.)
"I think it’s more productive to challenge the idea that a book that can potentially cause harm should be banned instead of the idea that books can potentially cause harm." < This is an interesting idea. I love its uncompromising stance. It's one I would adopt if I was convinced books can cause something that deserves to be called "harm" (the two of us may just have different definitions). I definitely believe we all have the God-given right to give ourselves nightmares and anyone trying to 'protect' us from that should be kicked in the fork of the legs.
I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?
I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.
Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.
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I’m going to do it. I’m going to write a Magnus Archives Walmart AU, except no one dies (against company policy) and it’s really just fluff. Here is what me and my friend @aubbitsart have decided everyone’s role is:
Jon: manager
Martin: Works in the Bakery or is the greeter
Elias: dunno what it would be specifically but he is their Boss
Tim: Cashier/restocker
Sasha: customer service (returns and refunds, specifically)
Melanie: restocker/works specifically in the veggie section
Daisy and Basiera: Security (later work in the meat section)
Gerry Key: Cashier/bagger
Micheal Shelly and Helen: Work in the back with unloading and stuff
Breaken and Hope is their delivery people
Common Costumers:
Georgie: regular shopper, buys cat food, regular food and starts dating Melanie (starts to visit more after that)
Jane Prentice: buys random shit that doesn’t go together. Gets put on banned list after a bug incident.
Gertrude Robinson: comes in mostly to visit Gerry and sometimes Micheal, buys normal stuff plus lots of lighter fluid, bleach, and sometimes rope. Everyone is afraid of her.
Peter Lucas: Buys lots of sweets and sometimes just bugs Martin into calling Elias to come pick him up. At first Martian was really discreet about it but after the 5th time just gets on the comms and asks Elias to come pick his boyfriend up.
Annabel Cane: buys lighters and yarn/thread, and witch books
Simon Fairchild: always wearing pride stuff, also always has a rainbow umbrella. Refuses to buy two things of the same color at the same time. Was once found suck on the ceiling, is now on the banned list. He somehow manages to sneak in.
Jude Perry: also on the banned list, caused an accident where Jon got his hand burned. Buys coal, lighter fluid, and various lighters. Doesn’t even hide her intentions. Also buys Little Debbie’s Cosmic Brownies.
Agnes Montegue: shops with her boyfriend, who is actually the nicest person. Likes to invite everyone to bbq’s and Jon has a rule that no one is allowed to attend.
#tma#the magnus archives#Jon sims#martin blackwood#Walmart AU#Au#alternate universe#reblog with your ideas and I may include them :)))#Bro also can’t spell names to save my life sorry for any misspells
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CBC's Donation Drive!
I am always telling others to act, and so, I've been thinking about how I can better utilize my platform to help others. My friend Ibtisam inspired me with her own idea to write thank you cards for those who are donating to lifesaving causes!
So, here's my own, LINK included!
I will be writing up to 100 thank you cards for those who donate at least $10 to any campaign or fundraising program of their choice. This can be individual GoFundMes, SudanFunds, GazaFunds, the PCRF, The Sameer Project, the Sudanese American Physicians Association (SAPA), Friends of the Congo... so many options. I'll take any of them. If you donate $20 or more, I'll even write you a specialized card with whatever you want (200 character max, appropriate things) !
At least one campaign I personally want to promote is that of my friend, Amal's ( @amjo429 ).
Y'all seem to think I have the patience of a saint, but it is nothing compared to the kindness and patience Amal has shown me despite everything happening in her life. A pharmacist that cares about others through and through. She deserves a fighting chance. Her family deserves a fighting chance.
I hope you consider taking the time to participate, and if not, at least reblogging to those who may be interested!
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This is a signal boost for Bashaer and her baby girl! 💜
verified as #231 on el-shab-hussein's list vetted by nabulsi here vetted by northgazaupdates here
Meet Bashaer: a young mother in mourning, holding on to hope for her precious baby girl, Ayla.
Ayla is only three months old; born amidst war and horrific violence, Ayla's birth came after the passing of her father. Omar, Bashaer's husband, was killed while he was gathering desperately needed supplies for his family. This sweet little one never got the chance to meet her father -> please help her have a chance at a life of health, safety, and happiness.
So far, Bashaer has been able to raise $13,523 USD of the $40,000 her family needs to evacuate to Egypt. Can you support them in their time of need?
✅ [CLICK HERE to make a donation!!] ✅
I want to take a moment to honour Omar. Even just a glance at Bashaer's posts will tell you just how much she cherished, loved, and respected this wonderful man. Omar worked in the medical field, and that Ayla will never know him is nothing short of a tragedy.
Please follow her at @bshaeromars-blog and hear her story for yourself. In Bashaer's words:
Omar was not just a doctor, but he was an angel of his mercy to heal his patients with a smile and sweet word. He was a loving and loving husband. He waited for the birth of his daughter Ayla, but he was martyred before he saw her.
Some of you may also know my friends, Safaa 💜 Safaa ( @safaabed8 ) is Bashaer's sister! Myself and several of my mutuals have made posts in support of her own GFM campaign. Safaa asked me to make this post on Bashaer's behalf, so she might come to know the support and love of others in the wider Tumblr community, as she has.
I say this because I want to highlight ideas of community, connection, solidarity, and support.
Many of the Palestinian GFMs you will come across are interconnected: brothers, sisters, cousins, friends, neighbours. These aren't just faces and numbers on your dash. These are people, these are families, with real, heartfelt, genuine connections. I want to emphasize that in one corner of the world, here's me, lifting up the voice of Bashaer; Bashaer, who is blessed to call Safaa her sister; Safaa, who is friends with one of my mutuals; this mutual, who is in turn friends with me!
This whole thing? Its a circle.
And all of us are a part of it, including you.
This is community. This is life; this is humanity. Friends calling to friends; voices calling to voices, people being heard in their time of need, being lifted up, people coming together.
I am asking you not to turn away. Please step up and be a part of this. Bashaer needs your donation, your your reblog, your follow, your compassion. Please donate if you are able. Every contribution, no matter how small, makes a difference 💜
#free palestine#signal boost#go fund me#go fund them#please donate if you can#donations#fundraiser#gaza fundraiser#gaza#free gaza#gaza genocide#bshaeromars-blog#Intisar Abushammaleh#Reem Shaheen#safaabed8#Safaa Abed#vetted#verified
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So Trump Won, Now What?
I get it, we’re all worried. I am too. Above all else on this list, keep yourself safe. Don’t do anything stupid, especially without a plan.
Find Ways to Cope
With the election results, it’s understandable to be afraid. Do whatever you need to (within reasonable amounts. please do not overdose) to comfort yourself.
Take off of school / work if possible to rest. If you don’t have money saved up to be able to take a day off, that’s completely understandable. If you can’t take a day off school for whatever reason (like me. I’m writing this while being driven to school) then that’s okay as well.
Eat comfort foods. You can take a cheat day if you’re on a diet today, you deserve it.
Do things that help you calm down. Some things can include: drawing, crafts, listening to music (punk playlist I helped create here if that might help), knitting, etc. Whatever it is, do it.
Cry. It’s understandable to want to cry after this. I felt like crying too.
Prepare For the Worst
I hate to say it, but it’s likely that shits going to hit the fan once Trump hits office. Here’s some ideas on what to do.
Preserve any media that MAGA might try and get rid of. For me that’s going to be writing things online down into a notebook and preserving punk songs (likely onto a cassette tape just so I have it tangibly), for Janet next door that might be pirating. Buying any books that might get destroyed is a good idea as well, so that way it still exists, despite censorship.
Stock up on physical items that may end up being destroyed / not being sold anymore. Books are a good idea to have since book censorship has existed as long as dictatorship has. Another idea is over the counter birth control since it likely won’t be allowed to be sold anymore. If anyone has any more ideas, put them in the reblogs / comments.
Stock up on money. I have a secret stash that has about $200 in physical dollars hidden in it, and that’s just counting dollars.
Build Community
This goes hand-in-hand with prepare for the worst, but I felt like it deserved its own section.
Make a garden. It may be a bit late to do that right now due to it being winter in the U.S., but you can always prepare for one. Food prices will likely go up, so it’s good to have plans for free food.
I’m not sure what to title this bullet point, but with prices for everything likely going to go up, it’s great if there’s people who can provide things like clothes or anything else one might need.
Even without any of the other two things, having community in general is good. Even if that’s just a group of friends who you sit with at the lunch table and talk with, it’s still a community. If you aren’t able to make one in real life for whatever reason, then make one online.
If anyone has anything at all to add on then please put it in the reblogs (preferred) or comments. I’m not usually one to ask for reblogs, but I’d argue that this is really important and needs to be shared. Remember that your existence is resistance and that it’s always okay to punch a Nazi.
@our-trans-punk-experience @liberalsarecool
#Politics#i spent the full 30 minute car ride to school writing this. it was worth it.#Election#its always okay to punch nazis
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⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY
⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.
✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.
✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!
✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.
I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki.
Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.
Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive.
Which I have no issue with fulfilling.
My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life.
However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born.
It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing.
I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me.
That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision.
How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.
And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage.
This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction.
It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot.
I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival.
As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task.
Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going.
To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present.
Maybe tonight reminds him of her?
“Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response.
The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me.
His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks.
The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty.
But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished.
“Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”
Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them.
Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition.
Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed.
That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture.
However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made.
So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties?
All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view.
As always, dinner is silent.
Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment.
If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan.
I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.
My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction.
As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.
When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together.
She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.
I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that.
Not likely.
I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why?
Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward.
Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak.
I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”
“It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me?
“There is something I would like to discuss with you.”
“It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.
“Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze.
He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”
“Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”
His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage?
This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond?
The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.
No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.
I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife.
But how long?
How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?
How long?
It possibly couldn’t be more than a year.
This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic.
However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.
“Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings.
I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”
“We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”
“Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew.
I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.
So, I continue.
“I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”
My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way.
“If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded.
I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love.
Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this.
Not with Byakuya.
By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good.
But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning.
Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed.
I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind.
Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him.
“Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”
“Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”
I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”
“For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”
My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed.
“You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”
“But… why?” I questioned.
“Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”
I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”
“Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement.
“It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us.
“Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”
I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”
“Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans.
“You’re being ridicu—”
“That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”
“Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”
It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I.
Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter.
But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall.
Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous.
I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before.
“Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”
“Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone.
He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh.
“I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”
I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”
“I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”
“My lord… please.”
He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”
He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day.
I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms.
I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—
“May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core.
His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me.
When he is like this–I do not loathe him.
“You may.”
Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.
How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so.
My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not.
He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more.
This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again.
Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing.
Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans.
We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me.
“Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to.
I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on.
My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.
He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not.
No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers.
“My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back.
“You are art, Y/N.”
“Address me as your lady,” I demanded.
“Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”
“Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly.
His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight.
He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste.
Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking.
He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain.
“Am I up to your liking?” He quips.
I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”
The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered.
He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers.
I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt.
I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release.
Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me.
He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name.
“Byakuya…”
He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”
“I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”
“Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me.
He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers.
Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for.
There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before.
“Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred.
“But I have barely touched you, blossom.”
I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”
“You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”
“Yes.”
“Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”
The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.
“Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”
“Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand.
I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me.
For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise.
Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance.
I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him.
He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls.
“I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts.
I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”
Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness.
I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement.
My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating.
“You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”
“More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”
“So desperate for my come, are you?”
I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.
I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets.
Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.
He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue.
“When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”
I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”
“So come for me, blossom.”
His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings.
I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release.
Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me?
How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life?
“You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”
“Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”
“I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”
“Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”
“And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”
Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.
Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.
Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt.
But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat.
An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year.
“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence.
I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”
“For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”
His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”
He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”
thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ
#anime x black!reader#fanfic smut#anime x reader#bleach x black reader#bleach x reader#bleach fanfic#bleach smut#byakuya kuchiki x reader#byakuya kuchiki x black reader#toji x reader#jjk x reader#x black reader#black reader#byakuya smut#anime smut
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This truly is the last thing I want to say on this blog and then I'm done psych I lived bitch, but given how the fucking catastrophe started it's only appropriate this is how I end it—
You have racist bias whether you like it or not. Particularly if you are US American, racism was baked into your worldview no matter what kind of household, liberal or conservative, you grew up in. Racism is quite often far more covert than it is overt. It is not just a voluntary behavior; it is more often the subconscious ways you organize and hierarchize other cultures and people.
In the case of Gaz—sure, you might actively believe that he deserves to be more included. You think he's a good character and people really should think about him more! But you personally headcanon him a certain way, and really it's not a headcanon you're actually all that into, so that's why you don't talk about him as much. It's not because he's black, it's because he doesn't fit the thing you like talking about the most. The fact that he's black is really just a coincidence, you're not excluding him because of that. In fact, you're sure other people like him for exactly the reason you're not all that into him, and you'll just leave it to them to pick up the slack. Or you'll get to him later! In fact, you have some ideas for him. You just haven't gotten around to them yet.
Take that and multiply it by thousands of white women in fandom—not just this fandom, not just Gaz's character, but every fandom and every character of color. It doesn't matter that there's no active malice behind not personally liking black characters and other characters of color. Non-white characters still take a backseat to their white counterparts, because white women in fandom cannot wrap their heads around black, brown, indigenous, and Asian characters as complex, complicated characters worthy of their interest or frankly, their desire.
They cannot wrap their heads around this because they were conditioned not to by decades of racist culture.
Case in point; plenty of white women in this fandom have fallen head over heels for Makarov and Graves. The sins of these out-and-out villains are totally forgiven by virtue of their sex appeal, and because they are portrayed by attractive, charismatic men who put a lot of passion behind their performances.
But can we say the same for Hadir? Can we say the same for Hassan?
The sins of these two Middle Eastern characters do not outweigh those of their villainous white counterparts, yet how many angsty fix-it fics have been written exploring Hadir's complicated relationship with violence and imperialism? How many enemies-to-lovers or even lovers-to-enemies fics have been written about Hassan, the face of whose homeland has been irrevocably marred by US interference?
No one who points out the racism of this trend is accusing these white women of active, militant white supremacy. I'm not saying any of you even have to like Gaz, Hadir, or Hassan. But your preferences have been tuned for you by a culture shaped by slavery, imperialism, and white supremacy. That is not something you can escape merely because you support the BLM movement or reblog vetted Palestinian gofundmes.
The only way you can truly fight your own racism is to be actively anti-racist. It is about far more than who you give money to or what graphics you pin on your instagram. It is an everyday practice of learning how racism has shaped your worldview for you.
This is not work that is done in a week, a month, or a year. Becoming anti-racist takes as much time as it took to make you racist in the first place. For some of you, the work may turn out to be easy. For others, it may be hard. You must do it either way.
Some good places to start:
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
Ain't I a Woman? by bell hooks
We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks
A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde
The Body Is Not An Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor
Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings
Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
Being Palestinian edited by Yasir Suleiman
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"Did you know?"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital
summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason
A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!
Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!
Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.
This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.
"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.
"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.
"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.
"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."
You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.
Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.
Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.
You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.
"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"
"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.
You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.
Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?
Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.
You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."
Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.
You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.
While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.
You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.
Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.
You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.
Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.
You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.
Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.
"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.
You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.
"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.
"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.
You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.
You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.
You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.
The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.
You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.
The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.
You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.
"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"
"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.
You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.
"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.
"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.
"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."
After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.
Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.
Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.
In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.
Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.
The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.
Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.
Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.
You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.
You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.
"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.
"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.
"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"
Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.
Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.
You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.
10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.
Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.
5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.
You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.
All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.
Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.
The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.
Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.
"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.
"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.
"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.
Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.
"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.
Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."
You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.
The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.
The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.
You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.
"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"
You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.
The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.
You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"
"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."
You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"
"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.
"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.
The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.
Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"
"Get out," you say, your voice tense.
His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"
"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.
"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"
"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"
"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.
"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."
His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."
He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?
The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.
You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.
After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.
Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.
You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.
"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."
Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.
"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."
You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"
"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."
Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.
They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.
You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.
Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.
They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.
They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."
All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."
"Yea, but-"
"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."
"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.
"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.
Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.
You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
~ ~ ~
Part 2
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz oneshots#stray kids imagines#stray kids oneshot#skz imagines#skz ninth member#skz 9th member#stray kids ninth member#stray kids 9th member#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids hurt/comfort#skz hurt/comfort#part 1/2
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Death Wish 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you're desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
Adrenaline buzzes in your ears and sears through your veins. You shouldn’t be here. Yet this place is no more treacherous than your home. Thing’s can’t get much worse so you may as well try to make them better.
Or maybe you’re so desperate for it to end, that you don’t care how.
You stand before the two men in their dark suits. They mutter as if you can’t hear them, “Warren’s girl.”
“One of them,” the other intones.
“Boss said not to bother.”
You sway, your hands twined up behind your back. You expect to be turned away but you’re not ready for it. You chew the tip of your tongue.
“I can wait,” you say.
The don’t acknowledge you. They turn to block you out with their shoulders and lower their voices. One glances over his shoulder at you, Walker? Or something.
“Your daddy send you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You should probably lie but you’re no good at that. The throbbing in your swollen lip assures you of that.
“So why should we let you in to see the boss? You out here at midnight looking like a tramp,” he challenges as he faces you again.
“Hey, she looks like she’s had it bad enough. Don’t be a dick,” the other man reproaches. “Look, sweetheart,” he steps forward. “Man’s busy. With important business. Whatever you’re looking for, ask your daddy.”
You could sob. Your father has no idea you’re there. If he did... if he knew why...
Your shoulders slump and you hang your head in defeat. Why did you think this would work? It’s a fantasy. That same escapist wish you make every night when you cry yourself to sleep.
You close your eyes and see Adrienne’s teary-eyes and Kitty’s helpless expression. You can’t let your sisters down. You can’t stand to see them suffer any longer. You can take it all, but it’s seeing him raise his hand to them that guts you.
“I need to see him,” you raise your head. “I can wait.”
You say you can but if your father realises you’re gone, if he finds out where you’ve gone, or even manages to guess why...
Walker sighs. He elbows the other man. “Go tell him so can come back and tell her to scram on his orders.”
The other man returns a dark look but goes inside. You hug yourself and shiver in the night air. You have only your quarter-zip sweater and a pair of silky pajama pants. You’re not surprised the men can barely keep from laughing at you.
You wait. It takes longer than you expect. If anything, you would think they would only pretend to tell the boss. That’s what they all do. They lie. They ignore you. They just don’t care. So why are you here? Why would this go any other way?
Before you can wave the white flag, the door opens.
“In,” the man holds the door as he steps out.
You flinch and Walker sneers at his partner in confusion. You’re just as surprised. The other man huffs.
“Well, he said you got five minutes, so get.”
You waver on your feet then scurry forward. You step inside the dark brick building, another man waiting just inside. He’s silent as he points you down the hall. He directs you with the terse gestures; upstairs, to the left, around another corner.
You stop before a door with another duo standing vigil by the door posts. The left one knocks, tilts his head to listen, the opens it. You’re pointed inside.
Your nerves flurry and wrap you up in a billowing storm. What are you doing? That question doesn’t matter. It’s too late.
You drag your feet inside. The door slams at your back. The room is dim, lit only by a lamp with a glass shade on the large desk across from you. Behind that, sit a man. The man. Bucky Barnes. The boss. The king.
He sits with his elbow bent over the armrest of his chair. He watches you calmly. You stand in silence by the door. He beckons you closer with two fingers.
“Can’t see you back there, doll.” He says.
You hold your breath and come forward. You gulp as you stop within a foot of the carved desk. Your eyes scour the vintage print of the wallpaper and the wooden paneling. This place is steeped in history.
He raises his hand, cradling his face as he brings to fingers to his lips. He watches you patiently. Waiting. You stare back at him. You’ve never seen him this close. You don’t even know if your father has.
“Why are you here?” He asks at last.
Your eyes narrow on the gold sheen on his pinky. It’s the only safe place to look. You feel like you’ll melt in the blaze of his oceanic irises. You exhale.
“I need someone dead.”
He doesn’t answer. Your words dangle in the air as he mulls them. You purse your lips and wince at the pain in the split along the swollen flesh.
“A man. The one who did that to you?” He sits up straight and points at you. You follow the glint of his ring. You nod. “Low life. Let me guess, daddy doesn’t know you been sneaking around.”
You shake your head, “he doesn’t know I’m here. Or that I’m asking.” You take another breath as your eyes water. You bring your hand up to your cheek as it pulses. Your father’s knuckles left a nasty welt. “Because it’s him. He’s the one who did this. And I want him dead.”
He scoffs, more amused than disbelieving.
“Warren’s a soldier of mine. You're asking me to off him?”
“I’m begging,” you finally make yourself look him in the eye. His is formidable man. Dark hair, dark beard, a touch of grey here and there. Even at this hour, he wears a nice suit and sits with authority. “Please, my sisters--”
“And how are you and your sisters going to make up for his cut. He brings in money. What can you give me?”
“You can take everything. We just want to be free,” you say.
He clucks, “what he has now is nothing compared to a lifetime of what he can get.”
You lower your lashes. That’s it. At least he didn’t laugh because you almost did when you said it out loud. Your father isn’t going to die. He’s so rancid, even death doesn’t want him. He’s not human, he’s a curse. And this man you’re asking for mercy, he’s the same kind.
“Sorry for the bother,” you eke out. “I was mistaken.”
“So you were,” he agrees. “Go home. Put some ice on it.”
It’s like another punch in the face. You nod, “thank you, sir.”
“You can go,” he dismisses.
“Yes, sir.” You put your head down and drag your foot back.
“Ah,” he tuts.
Your eyes flick up. He extends his hand across the desk. Right. He is still who he is. You step closer as he holds his hand steady. You bow down and kiss the sigil on his ring. An outdated and demeaning gesture.
Before you can stand straight, his large hand frames your chin. He pushes your head up as your eyes round. You stare at him as his gaze drifts down to your neck. The bruises by the zipper of your sweater tingle.
“You were never here,” he lets you go.
“Understood,” you retreat, “sorry again for wasting your time.”
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#series#drabble#au#mob au#death wish#marvel#mcu#captain america#winter soldier#avengers
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Cuddle headcannons of malleus and idia please 👉👈
➳ cuddlebug (malleus draconia/idia shroud x gn!reader; separate)
cw: kinda short cause still on writer's block, characters might be ooc, overall fluff
a/n: my freshmen year in pharmacy school has ended like weeks ago (yayy!! and had really good grades ngll) and had lots of time to write sum fics for you guys ^^
malleus draconia 🐉
i feel like malleus himself would be the first one to initiate into cuddling you just because he's curious on how warm you were comparing to him. bro's really curious since in his culture and heritage, mothers would initially cuddle their egg/babies and giving them with love. malleus, however was deprived with this opportunity since his mother is barely present when he hatched from his egg.
at first, your boyfriend is slightly nervous when asking you this question since the two of you are dating for at least 5 months. you just looked at him and said, "why are you asking this question? you know I'm really comfortable with you cuddling me. im just waiting for you to cuddle with me." as you extended your arms in front of him.
malleus just went 🥺 and 🥰 as he picked you from the floor and proceeded to lay the both of you into his bed, making you shocked from the sudden action but quickly relaxed as soon as you felt his head being placed on the crook of your neck. malleus loves it when your hands are caressing his face as he stared at you with adoration and hearts in his eyes and tends to kiss your hand while your hand are being cupped to his cheek.
most of the time, he's the big spoon in terms of cuddling but if he's the one having a really bad day, he's the one laying on your chest being the little spoon. malleus would also love the cradle position and the half spoon since he loves holding you on his arms.
idia shroud 💠
you're going to be the one who would proposed the idea on the subject of cuddling with him because this guy, won't be the one to initiate cuddling cause he would die of shame asking you to cuddle so good luck with him (even tho i loved him sm).
even though idia loves you (like a ton), he's gonna wait for you to ask him if you would like to cuddle with him. bro's not the type to make the move first aside from asking you out (thanks to ortho's reassurance that you liked him back)
he's also not used into physical touch so you better be patient with him, it may start with his head on your shoulder and escalated into hugging you from behind as you lay down on his bed. idia would love it if one of your leg in placed on his thigh when he plays something on his computer/console.
idia's concern regarding cuddling you is his hair but you quickly reassured him that you loved his hair so much on how comfortably warm it is in his air-conditioned room. he would whine if you are not touching his hair if the both of you are cuddling together (only you and ortho since he is really uncomfortable on others touching him, including his long hair).
probably he dreams on having you on his lap when he plays a game or just relaxing with you while talking about his interests and kisses your face while holding you (he's quite shy on kissing your lips yet hehe)
Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.
Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland idia#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#twst idia#twst wonderland#disney twst#twst x you#twst x y/n#malleus x yuu#idia x yuu#idia shroud fluff#malleus draconia fluff
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Wild Horses
Part 1
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Doctor!Reader
Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
A/N: Just a little idea I had after seeing all the TikToks and now I am yanked onto the Ghost train. I used to watch my brother play the game but that was a while ago so bear with me here. (advice or little pointers are much appreciated). I also might make this into a short story or add another part to it, let me know y’all. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings: language, fluff, angst
You were assigned to the team as their personal physician, as requested by the higher ups in order to make sure the soldiers stayed in best health, both physically and mentally. You used to work at your local hospital before you were offered the position.
You knew the dangers and the risks involved, but you were in debt and had student loans that needed to paid. So after much hesitation, you accepted the offer, eventually being convinced by the fat paycheck.
You remembered the day you were first introduced to the team, the way everyone's eyes glued to you like a hawk, their large forms towering over your small frame in the room while you picked at the skin around your nails in nervous habit.
They were curious to say the least, wondering what the hell someone like you was doing in a place like this. And since when did they get the chance to have a full on doctor to treat them, usually they were offered combat medics. You had guts, that's for sure.
You on the other hand were nervous, frightened even, with the thought of living in the same quarters of men wrapped up within the tumults and afflictions of war without a single clue as to their current psychological state. You had seen the worst of men and humanity growing up and you no idea who these soldiers were, what they were capable of, or what their intentions might be. Maybe you should have requested that briefing before you hopped on that plane.
Amongst all of their gazes, you had failed to notice a certain masked individual in the far back of the room, his form shrouded amongst the others as he studied you. His eyes, hidden underneath the grooves of his mask that only seemed to be darkened by where he stood blocked by the only source of light, watched your every movement, from every gesture of your perfectly manicured fingers to every smoothing of the lint-free fabric of your sweater to the way you kept shifting your weight from one foot to another.
One thing was apparent; during the entire length the high ranking officer next to you introduced you and debriefed the men on what was expected and such, you had not uttered a single word, minus the small polite and somewhat strained smile on your face while your eyes told another story. Why the military truly hired you, he may never know.
After being shown your little office and workspace including your room, you were quick to settle in, decorating the area to the best of your abilities with what you had taken with you from back home in order to bring some life into the dull and two-dimensional area. If anyone questioned you on it you would just say that your own sanity is extremely vital in order to ensure quality treatment for your patients.
Once everything in your office was set up, you threw on your white coat and retreated yourself to your office space, sitting at your desk and hastily going over the files that you had completely forgotten about that were given to you regarding the soldiers' previous health before they come pouring in reporting symptoms of god knows what. Best be prepared. Jesus how many bullet wounds can a single individual have.
The soldiers were advised to do their routine physical examinations with you so the first one to come waltzing in through your office door was none other than Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a cheeky grin plastered on his face and much too excited for his own good. That boy's got a crush on you I swear. To be honest I'd be lying if I said the whole team didn't have a schoolboy crush on you.
The men were quick to warm up to you, relieved to have a gentle soul in their midst after all the shit that goes down outside, you were like breath of fresh air. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to bring a doctor on board, as quiet and reserved as you were. They speculated you were just shy, the reason why you never spoke much, not knowing that you just couldn't hold a conversation if your life depended on it, especially around those you weren't close with. At first they couldn't tell because of your major rbf.
During their routine check-ups or whatever issue they had going on, they would do most of the talking, which was a good thing on your end because it helped you to piece together their temperaments. Thank the lord no one is a psycho murderer. Oh wait.
Soap is the most chattiest of them all. Boy wouldn't shut his mouth when he sat in your office. He's super flirty. But not as flirty as Alejandro.
Ghost on the other hand was reluctant to step into your office for his check-ups. After all he was usually the one to tend to his own wounds or just push through whatever it is that is going on, so he did not know what all the fuss was about in having to get his health checked. So when you call out his last name more than once might I add, clipboard in hand and scanning the area for whoever looks to be headed in your direction, he can't help but heave out a sigh, trudging over to where you stood, your clean white coat a stark contrast to the rest of the environment as you leaned against your door to hold it open.
You muttered out a small hello to which he let out a small huff as you moved aside to let the man enter, watching him walk into your office and seat himself down. That man intimidated you a bit not gonna lie. Not only could you not see his face but he had also not said a single word to you. And not to mention he was absolutely huge as compared to you, even more so in person. You also had heard a lot of stories from the other guys.
"How is your day?" You ask, shutting the door behind you as you briefly read over his previous but extremely short records on your clipboard. There's barely anything on this man. Does he not get ill?
Ghost is quiet at first, watching your eyes scan over the clipboard and curious to know just what is on those papers before your eyes flit up to meet his and catch him off guard, which causes him to answer abruptly. "Fine."
"Okey dokes." You give a quick smile.
Did you just say okey dokes.
Clearing your throat, you go over to where he sat and set the clipboard down on the table next to you beside your laptop. You didn’t have to read his body language to know he did not want to be here at all. So you were going to do him a favor and make the appointment as quick as possible.
"So do you have any allergies to any medications, any allergies I need to know of?" Your fingers hover over the keyboard of your laptop as you turn to face him, only to be met with an expressionless skull of a mask and the expressionless eyes beneath. Oh boy this session was going to be something. You had heard of how he had never shown his face, so you made sure not to question on it.
"No ma'am."
"Are you currently taking any medication?" You ask the same standard set of questions you have asked every single patient of yours, typing as you go.
"No ma'am."
Any previous illness? Disease?"
"No."
The more you ask him questions, the more he strangely finds it easier to answer. Your voice is surprisingly soft, warm even, like the start of autumn, and he finds it comforting to listen to. Or maybe it's just some technique doctors learn during training in order to relax their patients.
"Do you have any history of smoking, alcohol, or illicit drug use?"
".......sometimes I'll have a smoke, and a glass of bourbon." He's almost waiting for you to hand him a pamphlet about the dangers of smoking.
"How many times would you say?" You ask for details, your eyes still glued to the screen of your laptop as you await his answer.
Ghost is a bit confused by the amount of questions you ask, but he also has not been to the doctor's so how would he know. "Um I don't know."
"A rough estimate is fine."
"Not much, maybe 2-3 times a week or so when I'm not on duty."
"How many times a week do you exercise?" You feel silly for asking this question to a man like him but it's all part of the procedure and you almost pray he doesn't hate you for it.
"Every day." So no pamphlet?
Jesus this man has more discipline than you. You can barely get up in the morning.
"Okayyy." You mutter out, more to yourself as you enter in his responses.
Ghost finds himself watching you from his seat on the chair, his eyes tracing over and studying your features as you type away on your laptop. He thinks you're really pretty but either doesn't want to admit it or just flat out does not know that he finds you attractive.
There are certain details about you that he can't help but find himself intrigued by, like the small black outline flower tattoo on your hand that was located near the area of your thumb, running along the curve to meet the knuckle of your forefinger. He's curious as to the meaning behind it, if there was one. He wanted to ask what type of flower it was, perhaps it was your favorite? It would give him an idea as to what flowers to get you.
"Have you ever been hospitalized, had any surgical procedures done or been treated for any chronic conditions?"
"No." Ghost shakes his head before remembering his wounds from combat, wondering if that is something you should know. "Just the bullet and knife wounds from combat. Nothing too serious."
Jesus fucking christ. You were willing to bet he treated those wounds himself.
Ghost is not a fan of hospitals. Pretty sure this dude just looks up YouTube tutorials on how to fix himself instead of just going to the doctor like a normal human being.
"When was the last time you visited your general practitioner.......or just any doctor in general?" You ask the last question, willing to bet it never.
There was silence on his end as you looked towards him waiting for an answer, the clicking of your keyboard coming to a stop and only loudening the silence. Ghost could not remember the last time he had been to a hospital or even scheduled a visit. And as you looked at him, your eyes almost staring into his soul, still waiting for a response, he could not help but feel a tad bit embarrassed, as if you were judging him for not being a responsible adult. Also it didn't help that you were goddamn pretty.
"I'm gonna take that as a very long time, the last time being the prehistoric ages, correct?" There's the slightest hint of a tease in your voice.
"Uh.......yes ma'am." Ghost squints his eyes at you as you go back to typing on your keyboard. Did you just.............did you just call him…..He does not know how to feel about that. Did you just try to crack a joke? He always thought doctors were the serious type.
"Okay then." You straighten up, grabbing your sphygmomanometer off the table and turning yourself to face him. "Is it okay if I check your blood pressure?"
The man is stunned. No one has ever asked his permission for anything before. He's so used to either taking orders or giving orders that he doesn't know how to respond and stares at you for a moment, forcing his brain to process what to do next before eventually giving a nod.
"Is it okay if you take your jacket off so I can get a clearer reading?"
He nods again, still in shock as he takes off his jacket, leaving him in his black long sleeve thermal. He's almost thankful he wasn't in his full tactical gear, having to imagine you standing there waiting for him as he removes every single piece of equipment off his torso.
"Thank you." You give him a short smile, placing your hand under his tricep and gently lifting his arm in order to wrap the inflatable cuff around his bicep. You almost blush at the mere size of this man's arms. "Now you're just going to feel a slight pressure okay."
Ghost can't help but feel a slight warmth spread to his cheeks at the way you handle him with such care, as if he were the small delicate thing and not you. Now he knows why the others were so giddy after leaving your office.
As you place your stethoscope on his forearm near his elbow to listen to his blood pumping through the artery, your other hand pumping air into the cuff using the inflation bulb with your eyes glued to the numbers on the gauge, he can't help but to notice the old Donald Duck watch that sat at your wrist, the ones with the moving arms and the vintage style black leather straps.
And as he further investigated your attire, he noticed a few other details, like the colorful glittery badge reel in the shape of a pill container with the words "licensed drug dealer" printed on it that was attached to your scrub top, the glitter sticker with the words "I'm nicer than my face looks" as well a few Disney character stickers and the little frog looking keychain that hung off of your badge. He was wondering what the hell that thing was. Your accessories were awfully colorful for a general doctor. Something was telling him you either used to work with families or children. Whatever the hell managed to bring you to such a drastic change.
You brought him out of his thoughts as you shifted from your position, unwrapping the inflatable cuff from around his bicep and placing it back on the table before typing the results into your laptop. "Okay," You adjust the ear pieces of your stethoscope back into your ears as you turn back to him, "I'm going to perform some auscultations, which is just listening to the sounds of your heart and your lungs so if you could just sit up straight and relax that would be wonderful."
Simon straightens up his posture as you place your free hand on his shoulder, at this point you're not sure if you're steadying him or yourself, your fingertips just barely grazing across the bottom of his neck. He doesn't know why but, it's as if your fingers are directly touching the skin underneath, despite the fabric of his mask that separated your fingers from his skin. Your hands feels hot, like really hot and he has no clue why.
The soldier only feels his cheeks warm up even more so now as you inch closer to carefully place the diaphragm of your stethoscope on his chest, your head tilted and your eyes lowered to the floor as you listen for his heart beat. He gets a whiff of your perfume and he finds himself drawn to it. You smell like something along the lines of jasmine petals, geranium, myrrh, frankincense, and a hint of sandalwood. Now he definitely knows why the others are fawning over you. Poor Simon is praying you don't hear how his heart is nearly racing. He does not know why he is feeling this way and it slightly bothers him in the way that he has no clue what it is he is feeling.
He catches how your brows slightly furrow at the center and his heart skips a beat. Now he's fucking embarrassed and this man rarely ever is embarrassed. Maybe he's even starting to panic. Can you tell? Do you know? You open your mouth to say something but he quickly interrupts he just got back from a run so you dismiss it with a shrug, placing the diaphragm on his back now and asking him to give you a couple of deep breaths.
"Okay. Take a deep breathe in, breathe it out. Breathe in, and out."
He complies with your instructions, breathing in slow and deep breaths as you go from one side of his back to another.
"Good job." You remove the earpieces and let your stethoscope hang around your neck as you go back to your table, recording in more info. Hang on did you just, did you just tell a grown 6'4" man good job.
Even Simon is confused. Like bitch.
"Okay, so we're all done with that." You inform him, before going over to one of the drawers and sliding it open. "Now if you don't mind, I would like to have some blood work done on you, just to make sure there are no underlying issues that need to be taken care of."
Simon is silent so you turn to him. "Is that okay, Ghost, is that what the others call you? Would you like me to call you Ghost?"
Goddamn you're too polite. "That's fine by me ma'am."
"Perfect. Now is it okay if I take your blood sample?"
Ghost nods, so you grab the tools necessary and place them on the table next to you.
"Could you please roll your sleeve up and make a fist for me? Thank you." You ask him once you sanitize your hands and throw on a pair of fresh gloves. You grab the tourniquet and catch sight of the tattoos that cover his forearm as you tie the tourniquet around his arm above the elbow. You're curious to know the story behind them but you have a feeling he's not one for storytelling or just talking in general so you remain silent. You tear open the small packet of the alcohol wipe and apply it to the area. The chemical is cool against his skin as you sanitize the area before letting it air dry. Simon can't help but notice how small your hands are.
Simon watches you intently as you work, the way you are so focused and so precise with each step, and yet so gentle. It's almost cute.
"You're just going to feel a little pinch." You tell him in a soft tone, a tone you were used to using on all your little patients before inserting the needle into his vein. As if the man hasn't been shot or stabbed and god knows what multiple times before.
At this point Simon doesn't even notice the needle in his arm, he's too focused on the details of your face. He can sense that you're nervous around him and he feels bad. Even though he's just met you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel scared or unsafe around him. And even though this whole situation is awkward for him since he never was a fan of visiting the hospital, you're their physician, and at the end of the day you're there to patch them up. So he comments on your dark circles, thinking you haven't gotten any rest since you arrived here. "You look tired."
"............that's just my face." You give him that distinct smile, the same smile you have given anyone who ever commented on them as you connect the vacutainers to the needle to draw his blood, your eyes glued to the dark red liquid seeping through the thin clear tube before pouring into the sample tube.
If you thought it was quiet before, well you are most definitely wrong because the silence is absolutely deafening now.
Simon nearly punches himself for his stupidity. Why in the bloody hell did he say that of all things. He wanted to tell you he liked your dark circles but decided to bite his tongue instead. Now he's definitely not going to say another word. Better yet, once he leaves your office, he's not coming back. He's just going to avoid you at all costs in order to save both you and himself the embarrassment. He's willing to bet the others handled this way better than him.
"But I suppose I am a bit jet-lagged though. Haven't really gotten any rest since I got on that plane." You add. "I appreciate your concern."
You most definitely said that to make him feel better about himself, Simon thinks to himself as he stares at the wall and avoids your face. There was no other reason.
Once your done drawing his blood you ask him to hold the piece of cotton pad down onto where the needle was punctured as you open up the drawer where the gauze is located. "Do you have a favorite color?"
Did you just ask him his favorite color? Simon stares at you blankly. Were all doctors this odd?
"I'm guessing you like black?" You pull out the roll of black gauze, displaying it in front of you with the most deadpanned expression possible.
You've got jokes. Simon thinks to himself. If he had looked a little closer he would have noticed the ghost of a smirk on your lips.
"You should see the colors the others picked." You tease as you wrap the gauze around his arm at the elbow, making sure it isn't too tight but also not loose enough to the point where the cotton pad underneath slips out.
Simon narrows his eyes at you. Bloody fucking hell. The others picked a color?
You're pretty sure Gaz requested you get an Elmo print one he saw online once somewhere. Soap asked if there a print of the Scotland flag available. The look of hurt on his face when you said there wasn't so you improvised and gave him both the blue and white gauze. You gave him a Dum-Dum lollipop to make him feel better. The others may have also gotten a lollipop as they left your office, especially after seeing the special treatment that Soap received. Were they jealous? Maybe.
Once you tell the man he is all good to go and that you will call him once you're done getting the results from his blood sample, he nearly jumps out of the chair and bolts out of your office. He prays some unknown miracle happens and that his blood sample magically disappears so that he doesn't have to face you, firmly believing he insulted you and that you thought he called you ugly when that is not what he intended. I am telling you this man does not know how to compliment. They should make a guidebook for dummies specialized just for him.
You watch him disappear out your door with a quirked brow. Well that was fucking weird.
When Simon leaves the area he finds Soap lounging about on a chair with a sucker in his mouth.
"The hell is that?" Simon squints at the sergeant.
"Mph mph." Soap's voice comes out muffled.
"What?"
Soap pauses and turns to see Ghost looming over him. "It's a Dum-Dum."
"A fuckin what?"
"Y/n said they're called Dum-Dums." Soap pulls it out of his mouth, twisting the stick of the lollipop around in his fingers as if he were inspecting it. "This one's a cotton candy flavor."
"She gave you a fuckin lollie?"
"It's pure dead brilliant I tell ya. Why, did she not give ya one?"
More silence. Simon would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't a tad bit butthurt.
"Maybe you scared her." Soap jokes.
Simon lets out a grumbled incoherent huff and walks away.
Soap just shrugs and pops the lollipop back in his mouth.
Simon has a feeling he is going to go to bed thinking about his actions.
Part 2
#cod#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost headcanons#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x oc#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#simon riley x oc#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost imagine#simon ghost riley imagine#soap x reader#soap cod#soap x oc#soap x you#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#cod headcanons#cod mw2
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one-shot 𖹭 3k w
pairing 𖹭 kim hongjoong (ateez) x fem reader
tags 𖹭 fluff, smut, established relationship, idol!hongjoong, family trip, you know he'll be having you in that hot tub at some point
✏️ okay so this wasn't planned but Bumjoong's vlog got me spiraling into some ⊹ ࣪ ˖ thoughts ⊹ ࣪ ˖ and I couldn't stop thinking about joining Hongjoong on that family trip -- and may I add, that hotspring? You know I had to.
pls reblog & comment if you like it 𖹭
© hongthoven
When Hongjoong had asked you to join him and his family on a trip to Sapporo, your first instinct was to panic— This would be your first time meeting his parents and only your second encounter with Bumjoong ever since your boyfriend’s last tour. Back then, even the idea of having lunch with Hongjoong and his older brother was already nerve-wrecking enough. Lucky for you, Bumjoong was the most welcoming human and had worked extra hard to make you feel comfortable by sharing some precious childhood memories including his younger brother pulling a tantrum over an ice-cream and how he would always crash his football games with his friends when he wasn’t much bigger than the ball itself.
Now this was different. Meeting his parents, spending days with his whole circle and living under the same roof seemed like a commitment your anxiety couldn’t seem to handle peacefully. Of course you were more than happy and flattered he would even consider bringing you along with him— any signs of this man committing to you more than enough to have you kicking your feet and screaming into a void. Hongjoong was a busy man and dating Ateez’s captain wasn’t always easy when it came to matching your schedules so you could spend quality time together. When he wasn’t spending the night at his studio, your man was either busy promoting his music, writing for other artists, working on his next photography exhibition or flying to Paris’ Fashion Week.
Still— every single one of his accomplishments felt like yours and Hongjoong always made sure to include you in every single step towards another successful experience. So when your lovely boyfriend had kindly suggested for you to take a couple days off from work so you could fly to Japan with his family, there wasn’t much left for you but to agree as Hongjoong did his best to reassure you when you immediately told him about your worries: his parents not liking you, embarrassing yourself, crashing their family time when you weren't even part of it— to which Hongjoong was quick to reply with the most unexpected piece of informations, sending you spiraling into thoughts of a future you were too afraid to dream about.
“Y/N— you’re part of my family already…” That was the validation you needed from him. The thought of him talking about you with his parents, letting them know about meaningful details of your relationship, made your heart grow twice its size. And while you were still nervous to meet them, you knew nothing could possibly go wrong when Hongjoong was by your side.
By the end of your first day, you already felt like part of the family. After hours spent walking in the snow, taking pictures, gazing at the gorgeous landscape and tasting some local delicacies, you were practically tight by the hip with Hongjoong’s mother as you walked back to the beautiful accommodation your boyfriend had rented for the entire family.
“My mom is kind of obsessed with you” Hongjoong growled as you finally caught some time to yourselves, spread out over the bed with your boyfriend resting on top of you, the coldness of his palms sending shivers all over your stomach as he slipped his hands under your sweater with a content sigh. “I’m a bit jealous actually— she’s keeping you all to herself” he almost whined, his lips reaching for your neck, forcing a soft giggle out of your lips “can’t even hold my girl’s hand or anything— such a thief” he added, biting your skin while the tip of his tongue collected your scent, reaching for your earlobe.
“Joongie— your family’s right next door” you huffed, trying to wiggle out of his embrace as he looked up to lock his beautiful yet sleepy eyes with yours. It had been a long day, following a long week of a packed schedule and you could definitely tell he was a minute from passing out from intense fatigue— but he still looked breathtaking with his blonde streaks covering half of his face and his pink lips, tempting as candy, desperately reaching for yours, only to melt into the softest kiss as he eventually complied. Closing his eyes for a minute, Hongjoong made himself comfortable with his face buried into your neck and his hands still resting under your sweater, framing you with his entire body.
It wasn’t long until you heard his breathing slowing down, its delicate sound mixing with some slight snoring from being completely burned out. Happy to see him resting at last, your hands found their way into his hair and at the back of his neck, kneading his skin tenderly as you watched the beautiful winter scenery getting darker by the end of the afternoon.
A knock on the door made you flinch into your slumber and your first instinct was to look down and make sure Hongjoong was still fast asleep— when he failed to react, your eyes found Bumjoong standing in the doorway, trying to make himself as discreet as possible, his palm covering his eyes.
“Are you guys decent?” he asked with a nervous chuckle as you immediately cleared the scene with a soft tone, the sight of his passed out brother making the older one smile endearingly.
“I think we’ll pass on dinner, can you excuse us to your parents? I think he needs this…” You whispered with one hand still locked into your boyfriend’s hair, scratching his scalp softly. Without a word, Bumjoong gave you an understanding nod as an answer and closed the door behind him, leaving you with nothing but the peaceful quietness of the bedroom as company.
After a while, you figured Hongjoong was gone for the night and decided not to rot in bed any longer— your body was getting pins and needles from staying in the same position for hours, keeping your boyfriend locked into your embrace as he snored peacefully against your chest. Though you were slightly reluctant to let go of him, the warmth of his skin as a reminder of how long it had been since you two were in the same bed, you eventually managed to roll Hongjoong over to his side, stealing a muffled complaint out of him as he called out your name in his sleep, to which you replied with a tender kiss at the crook of his neck before rolling out of bed and escaping the bedroom as quietly as possible.
The hotspring was practically calling your name as you walked into the private patio on the second floor, ready to dive into your book and enjoy some snacks while bathing in hot water— now this looked like a holiday. Everything around was quiet, peaceful if not for a couple of birds still chirping into the night. You were thankful for Hongjoong asking you to take a bathing suit although you were left a little puzzled at his odd request for a snowy weekend away— but you also couldn’t miss the little evil smirk on your boyfriend’s face when giving you a house tour, his hand palming the small of your back as he made sure to let you know just how much he expected to have you there, in this bath, as soon as his family would be gone. He would find an excuse, book a table at some fancy restaurant, pretend to have some work emergency and keep you around for support, only to bend you over the tiles and make you scream his name over and over again.
Unable to focus on your book as you kept reading the same page until it made some sort of sense, you tried to remember the last time you and Hongjoong were able to share that type of intimacy, your thighs instantly clenching at the sudden memory of his last concert in Saitama. You typically tried not to ever miss a concert whenever you could travel along but this tour you wouldn’t miss for anything— for months, you had seen Hongjoong practice his guitar skills, lessons after lessons, massaging his calloused fingers every time he took it too far — almost every day, so when it was time to witness your boyfriend in all his glory as he stood on stage ready to wreck an entire Dome, you were actually thankful to be seating alone, your entire body radiating with lust and the absolute urge to kneel in front of him to swallow his junk entirely.
Which you did, precisely 2 hours later, as soon as you were left alone with him backstage. Hongjoong had practically kicked the other members out without any effort to hide his intentions. You could actually hear Wooyoung snickering behind the door and making some crude comment to Mingi about how their captain was about to ‘get some’, which you both decided to ignore. Without any sort of ceremony, Hongjoong was quick to spit into your open mouth and guide himself between your lips, both his hands pushing at the back of your head until you could feel the familiar taste of precum spilling off his slit and into the back of your throat. You could never get enough of the way he seemed to melt against your tongue as you traced every single vein along his cock with just the tip like he was your favorite flavor.
When it came to being vocal, Hongjoong knew how to drive you past the edge of insanity with little whimpers and the nastiest words wrapped into the delicacy of his voice, like the melted chocolate heart of your favorite cake. You would never get rid of the way he often crossed the line, way past his usual cute pet names, only to call you his ‘little slut’ as he rutted himself into your mouth, stealing air out of your lungs as his hands started to tremble into your untamed hair.
The water was getting too hot, suddenly— the simple thought of Hongjoong slowly pushing your lips open with his tip making you foam at the mouth. Without realizing, your thighs had started to press against one another, rolling up and down slightly, just to give you enough friction for a quick relief. You could tell your entire body was now getting worked up over your fantasies, your back arching naturally as you eventually pushed your book to the side, suddenly uninterested in any sort of Literature. Wrapped into a cloud of steam, your body was craving a touch— yours, but mostly Hongjoong’s, and as you slowly slid your hand along your chest, brushing your erected nipple on your way down, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at the thought of being caught. What would your in-laws think? What would Hongjoong say if he heard about his parents walking on his girlfriend touching herself in the hot tub?
All these thoughts were quickly gone as soon as your hand found its nest between your thighs, three of your fingers pressed against your core as a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing into the empty patio. Or so you thought.
“Baby?” Though you immediately recognized Hongjoong’s voice, you were quick to stiffen back into the corner of the tub, red at the cheeks as you turned around to face your boyfriend’s mixed expression. He was definitely confused— but also quite obviously aroused. Not to mention half naked now that his sweater was gone, leaving him in a pair of sweatpants, his hair now a chaotic blond mess from sleeping for too long and his bare chest already coated with steam from the temperature of the room. He looked like an absolute snack you couldn’t wait to devour.
“You should have woken me up if you needed it so bad?” Hongjoong smirked, peeling himself off his sweatpants only to leave you gasping at the sight of his exposed, already semi-erected cock for a second before he dived into the bath.
“You looked like you needed some good sleep” you half-pouted as soon as he pulled you against him, forcing you to sit on his lap with one leg on each side of his frame.
“I need you more” without any sort of warning, Hongjoong reached for your throat, wrapping all five of his fingers around it as his lips found yours, tongue teasing until you caved and deepened the kiss, soft moans dying into his mouth as you started to grind over his lap while his stiffening member threatened to push your bikini bottom to the side with each thrust from your aching hips.
“Fuck— I’ve missed you so much baby— fucking insane—” his words were coming out a little sharpier, halfway between a confession and a command while his lips traveled down to your neck, sucking a soft, pink bite out of your skin with one hand already pulling at your bikini top. You couldn’t help but feel extremely exposed as one of your tit disappeared into Hongjoong’s palm, the other already settled between his lips as he sucked desperately at your flesh like a starving newborn.
“You gonna let me fuck you here?” he asked, his tone the opposite of innocent as you clenched over nothing, pushing your core against his groin until you couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing else mattered now. The glass windows surrounded you, making you both vulnerable and exposed— the idea of his family coming home any minute, only to find you there with their youngest son balls deep into your cunt. All you could think about was to be filled and to reach climax as soon as possible. It had been weeks since you had last felt Hongjoong’s body so close to yours and a treat was overdue.
“Please” you almost weeped, using your fingers as a hook to push your bikini to the side until you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, thicker than ever.
“Oh you’re gonna beg, love?” you couldn’t say a thing— not a word— as you nodded almost hysterically, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth like a misbehaving child ready to be grounded. Though his words were tempting and his gaze wrapped into that cocky frown you knew too well, Hongjoong’s hands were nothing but tender over your skin, his love pouring out of him in the shape of his palms stroking your arms, shoulders and the back of your neck like you were nothing but glass, about to shatter against his chest.
“You’re so fucking pretty— can’t believe you’re mine” his words took you by surprise, his thumb brushing your bottom lip while you felt him aligning himself perfectly against your aching core. His eyes were locked on the way your mouth instantly wrapped around his digit, sucking at the tip like the ghost of that part of him you were now craving.
“Go ahead and beg” he added, more demanding this time, your body going limp against him as you struggled to even breathe from the absolute urge to be consumed entirely by the love of your life.
“Hongjoong— please?” you finally begged, lips turned into a pout while your hand reached for his cock, ready to wrap around it. You had never felt emptier.
“What do you think you’re doing, love?” Hongjoong smirked, his own hand wrapping around yours but never truly stopping you.
“Need you” you were a blurbing mess by now, lids heavy and hips almost jolting against him as you felt him stretching you out a little with his tip only, both your hands still tightly wrapped around his shaft. You could feel every inch of him— into your palm, pushing against your walls, everywhere, always amazed at the way his cock seemed to be exclusively crafted for your cunt.
Once he was settled, balls deep into you, Hongjoong reached for the small of your back, pulling you closer to his chest as you instinctively rolled your hips against him, collecting the sweetest sound out of his throat as your boyfriend tilted his head back, hitting the tile with his wet hair while thrusting painfully slow into you. The room was filled with soft, muffled moans and the sound of water splashing over the rim, soaking the floor with each, deeper thrust. Everything felt and sounded like absolute bliss— the roughness of his chest against your palms, the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass cheeks everytime he pulled you harder, bottoming out only to rocket his hips back into you— nothing could beat this feeling, this fullness, the sincere love you could see in his eyes as his lips turned into an ‘o’ every time your eyes met.
Reaching for your neck, Hongjoong pulled you closer to melt his lips into yours, his kiss more eager this time as his tongue battled with yours while his hand kept you still with a soft grip around your throat. Lost into his embrace, it took you a minute to realize he was now completely still inside of you.
“Could stay like this forever” he smiled, his palm cupping water on the surface only to pour it over your chest, his eyes following every drop as it raced over your breast like the most beautiful piece of Art. While still tightly clenched between your folds, the way he gazed at you, his fingers tracing some invisible forms over your chest, was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced with anyone. Something in his eyes made you feel safe and vulnerable at the same time, like you were precisely where you belonged.
It only took a few more thrusts for you to bite a moan into his shoulder, your entire body stiffening with bliss as Hongjoong chased you to the top, his entire face buried into your chest as he lifted himself just enough to rocket back into you harder until his cries echoed into the quietness of the night while your walls locked around his load, turning him into absolute shambles as Hongjoong started to shake slightly into your arms from a hint of overstimulation.
Red at the cheeks, blonde streaks pushed back, Hongjoong tried to compose himself, his breathing gone to absolute chaos as he kept his arms locked around your figure, unwilling to let go just yet.
“Think I’m gonna marry you” he blurted out, his forehead pressed to yours— leaving you once again, completely speechless.
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compiling my headcanons for what video games dungeon meshi characters would like, if they were gamers in modern day
some taken from this post and my reblog additions there. added more characters, with some suggestions by friends/mutuals (marked by *asterisk ).
this can also be a games recommendation list based on your fav/most relatable characters too, if you want
characters that are not are included are bc i dont have ideas for them. if i only list the genre name but not any specific titles, its bc im not familiar enough with the character/genre to pick a specific game.
this list is, of course, biased towards games im more familiar with. feel free to ask me to elaborate on my choices or make suggestions in the comments
Laios' party:
Laios: plays lots of Monster Hunter. loves Spore but he doesnt often play past the tribal stage. likes Pokemon but he's more focused on catching the pokemon than following the story. played WolfQuest and DragonFable back in the day. enjoyed the concept of Bugsnax but wasn't interested in dealing with the NPCs
Marcille: mainly Dwarf Fortress, RTS games, some colony sims. but also sometimes The Sims, and dollmaker dress-up games. i could see her also enjoying Rollercoaster Tycoon and making elaborately-themed parks. might also occasionally indulge in some visual novels if she's in the mood for narrative she has Stardew Valley so she can have something to play co-op with falin, but its not a game she plays a lot of otherwise. when playing with falin, marcille micromanages the farm to maximize productivity, and does the decorations
Chilchuck: puzzle games and hidden object/escape room games as a video game-equivalent to finding/dismantling traps and lockpicking. i think he'd also enjoy Bejeweled.
Senshi: mainly Wii games and Cooking Mama. occasionally plays Snake on his 15-year-old nokia phone. i dont think he would enjoy games like Overcooked or restaurant manager games, because he likes to take his time making food, not stressing about customer service
Falin: some *Legend of Zelda games – she likes the exploration aspect in Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, maybe also some of the toon zelda games like Minish Cap or Wind Waker she also plays Pokemon (*Pokemon Go when she's traveling), and i think she would enjoy some indie games, like Penko Park or Chicory: A Colorful Tale. plays Stardew Valley co-op with marcille – falin mainly takes care of the animals, mining, and picking the crops. occasionally makes improvement suggestions that marcille didnt think of
Izutsumi: i could see her enjoying games with parkour mechanics, like *Assassin's Creed, or Mirror's Edge. or maybe something simple but requiring cat-like swipes, like Fruit Ninja. despite her impatience, i think she could also enjoy action games with interesting longer narratives, as evidenced by [this omake] (relevant portion pictured below), so maybe *Final Fantasy 7 – my friend who's familiar with the game said "she’d find Cloud and Vincent relatable"
[ID: a dungeon meshi omake, where laios' party watches a nightmare monster manifest marcille's dream. there are snippets of dramatic soap opera-like dialogue. the rest of the party are initially enthusiastic but get bored over time, meanwhile izutsumi remains enthralled]
Kabru's party
Kabru: definitely Crusader Kings. maybe also some rpgs with relationship/faction mechanics, such as *Fire Emblem (one of the older ones or FE:3H) or Fallout: New Vegas (hes maxing out the speech stat asap) i think he would also enjoy mystery games like Pentiment and Return of the Obra Dinn – he would love the process of getting familiar with the many characters and deducing "who did what" in both games.
Rin: she takes pride in being an indie gamer (translating her disdain for upper class magic academy mages -> disdain for AAA games). given her chain-lightning magic in canon, i think she'd enjoy games with AOE-type magic, so maybe games such as Vampire Survivors. my mutual also suggested she might enjoy indie mystery visual novels like *Paranormasight, and that her AAA guilty-pleasure would be *Final Fantasy 14 – that rin is "a hardcore ff14 raider. would join PUGs and shot-call every week. #holm and diya might also play ff14 casually with rin but holm would be fishing mainly"
Mickbell: mainly Bethesda games like Fallout and Skyrim– enjoys the bootstrapper power fantasy in them. the type to go out of his way to pick up all the loot he can, to later sell
Kuro: enjoys the same games as Mickbell, but for the open-world exploration and investigation factors
Toshiro and Tansu's party:
Namari: her interest in fighting and weapons could translate to brawler/fighting games and action games with a focus on weapon stats – so maybe *Street Fighter, *God of War, and/or *Dark Souls. might play *Monster Hunter with laios but for the weapons. i could also see her occasionally enjoying truck simulators
Toshiro (Shuro): has the perseverance for soulslikes and other high-difficulty action and/or metroidvania games, but would take his time overthinking item/weapon synergies sometimes. given [his fondness for bugs], i could also see him enjoying Hollow Knight
Tade: would enjoy the cute aesthetics and lighthearted gameplay of Animal Crossing and Katamari. would also like idol anime rhythm games
Kiki: i think she would enjoy horror games such as Resident Evil, but would play it while super chill. i dont have much reasoning for this aside from vibes
Canaries:
Mithrun: plays Doom. got into Hollow Knight but still hasn't finished it because he keeps getting lost. senshi introduces him to Cooking Mama later on, which he finds surprisingly therapeutic
Cithis: plays Hitman and enjoys staging elaborate accident kills. i think she'd also enjoy The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood, with her background as a devious fortune-teller
Fleki: surreal indie games like Hylics. also plays Team Fortress 2, and is a scout main. occasionally joins lycion in Animal Jam
Lycion: active WolfQuest and Animal Jam player. occasionally joins fleki in tf2
Pattadol: plays Stardew Valley – shes comparatively a normie, but on the meticulous side. she would enjoy perfecting her in-game farm
Otta: plays Genshin Impact. the serious reasoning is because of her (earth) elemental magic and how genshin has an elemental magic system (from my understanding. ive never played it). the joke reasoning is how some genshin players play to collect "waifus", and how otta goes through a lot of women in her dating life
Other:
Leed: runs her own guild in World of Warcraft
Winged Lion: god-games like WorldBox or Simmiland. and Darkest Dungeon (this ones mostly a joke)
Thistle: plays the original Plants VS. Zombies. also plays Minecraft and is very serious about it, but hasn't updated his game in years (translating the fact hes a 1000-year-old kid frozen in time -> playing "slightly old" games popular in the early 2010s)
[ID: tweet reply by twitter user ranchuppi – "thistle calls it lord delgal's server but he is the only mod. whole royal family is locked in spectator mode. Hell. living hell on earth."]
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#its not that spoilery but just in case anyone needs it#ive never owned any game consoles except a laptop so i watch a lot of lets plays/game showcases. and a fair amount of those are indie games#so this is probably a somewhat biased selection. i wanted to give several indie shout outs tho esp if they matched the character well#dungeon meshi spoilers#delicious in dungeon spoilers#mynn.txt#dm meta#yes this goes in my dunmeshi meta tag. this is character analysis to me
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ALT-ZADR-WEEK 2024
This event is inspired by the vintage culture of Invader Zim (1990s/2000s) and largely relates to fashion and media trends of that time. This year pays homage to that via the magic of alternate universes and the creativity of the fandom when exploring them. RULES: Must be 18+ to enter Both written and drawn submissions may apply To submit applications, post to tumblr and tag your submission as @alt-zadr-b1tch3z Do not harass the Artists/Writers It is the preference of the blog creator that you depict Zim and Dib as Adult versions of the original characters. However, underage iterations of Zim and Dib will be posted if the artwork meets the criteria of Disney shipping (cheek kisses, holding hands, exchanging gifts, hugging, Not Being Sexual) No depictions of Racism, Sexism, Pedophilia, Homophobia, Transphobia; or anything else I think is deplorable will be reblogged. I personally will block you if you’re being disgusting or a bigot.
Trigger warnings MAY include: Blood, Eyestrain, Drugs, Needles, Cutting, Gore, Suicide Mention, Murder, Violence, Infanticide, Patricide, Negative Depictions of Hospitals, Gay Cartoon Characters, Guns, Weapons, Vomit, and much more! Feel free to send asks about specific things you want tagged. Disclaimer: This blog does not condone any unlawful or harmful acts depicted in the events submissions. I will do my best to tag content for trigger warnings but may screw up, I’m just one dude. Negative mental health symptoms such as suicidal ideation, violent tendencies, long lasting depression, and many unmentioned others; are all things that deserve to be depicted in art and shared within an understanding and mature community. Sharing your experience with other like minded people is an important part of the coping process, and makes us feel less alone when we face the dark feelings within ourselves. It’s ok to fuck up and do the things you’re not supposed to, no one is perfect. You deserve to get the most out of life that you can. Healing is a slow process and it’s ok to acknowledge your bad feelings through art. If you are experiencing mental health problems, please seek out a professional avenue for help, or find some kind of healthy coping mechanism. You will thank yourself when you look back on it. Thank you, for reading my preachy little blurb about why leaking brain badness is good sometimes. Please enjoy the showcase <3
IDEAS FOR SUBMISSIONS: The categories and subcategories are loose and unstrict, do what you want to with the prompts given, and have fun with it!
Word prompts: Scene Word Generator Fashion Prompts: Emo fashion board Scene fashion boards ART INSPO
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Fellow vampire enthusiasts, I am once more in need of extras for my story, Helena Zhao Is Dead! If you missed my first vampire casting call, you can take a look at how it turned out here. This time around, I'll be utilizing your vampires across several future scenes, which means they may not show up right away but that the submission period is indefinite. There's no need to rush! I'm always coming up with more ideas and will do my very best to work your vampire(s) in wherever they best fit. Read below the cut for further specifications.
Reblog to boost!
Any gender, color, age, era, experience, background, etc. but please submit vampires only! (If you don't have the Vampires pack, don't worry. I can turn them into true vampires in my game.)
FEEL FREE TO SUBMIT MULTIPLE SIMS!!!
Not sure where to start? I am especially looking for residents of Forgotten Hollow (the more ancient, curmudgeonly and bizarre the better), stylish modern vampires who love clubbing and partying and mingle easily among humans, vampires who don't try to blend in with humans at all, and alternative '80s vampires who are likely to appear in the crowd at a grimy punk/goth concert. These are only suggestions! You can submit vampires who don't fit any of these molds. I may not have an immediate use for them, but I'll try to find one.
Include a brief biography so I can get a sense of their character! I can't include every detail, but I'll incorporate as much as possible.
Please stick as close to Maxis match as you can. Be thoughtful about the CC you include. Sliders and presets are okay, but try to avoid large merged files or unnecessary mods. I recommend giving them one or two CC outfits and leaving other categories nude or vanilla to keep file sizes down and prevent my mods folder from exploding!
I'll try to maintain your vision as much as possible but may make minor tweaks to fit my style.
When you post your Sim(s), be sure to include a download link or share one with me privately.
Tag your post with #bramblewoodvamps and @ my username to make sure I see it!
Any other questions? Don't hesitate to ask.
#sims 4#ts4#sims 4 vampires#ts4 vampires#simblr#story: hzid#caleb vatore#lilith vatore#the zhaoverse#bramblewoodvamps
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Zayne x Reader - Stitches
Part one of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel! I'll be posting the other stories over the next few days, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of them!
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
L&DS Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Warnings: Injuries, needles, injuries being stitched
The moment Zayne was notified that you were in the hospital because of a mission, he pretty much dropped everything.
Was it his only day off in god knows how long?
Yes.
Did he care?
No.
The only thing he cared about in that moment, was you.
Greyson had informed him that your injuries weren’t too bad; you weren’t going to die from them, you just needed to rest for a little while, but that still didn’t stop Zayne from breaking a few speed limits on the way to the hospital.
“Does it really need to be stitched?” he heard you ask when he reached your room; easily noticing the panic in your voice.
You were a hunter, and a good one at that, not much scared you, except for two things; spiders and needles.
“I can do it,” he said; emerging from behind the open door.
The nurse who was going to stitch you up didn’t argue with him, she just gave you both a polite smile before walking out of the door.
Leaving you alone with Zayne.
“Zayne-” you quizzically asked, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him; you were told it was his day off today. And in all honesty, you were somewhat relieved when you found this out, not wanting to have a lecture about why going on a solo mission was a bad idea.
He walked around to the other side of the bed; his eyes narrowing at the wound on your leg.
It wasn’t the worst wound he’d seen; not by a long shot, but it was a deep cut and he could only imagine how much it was hurting you.
“I thought it was your day off,” you continued, watching as he picked up the needles from the sterilized metal tray on the table next to you.
“It is,” he answered simply, picking up the thread, slipping it through the needle with ease.
“Then why are you-”
You felt your words trail off as he put some surgical gloves on and sat on the side of the bed, hovering the needle over your wound.
You knew this was going to hurt; it always did, especially seeing as you hadn’t any anesthetic to numb the area; that would’ve just meant more needles and you didn’t want that.
You just wanted to get this wound stitched up so you could go home.
“You need to relax,” Zayne said, his voice softer this time, as he lightly pushed the needle into your skin.
“I’m trying,” you sighed, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down and block out the pain.
“What happened?” he asked; hoping that his question may help to distract you from the stitching he was doing.
Normally something like this could be treated in minutes; but because you were so scared of needles he didn’t want to rush you, especially seeing as you’d had no medication to numb the pain. But he also thought that sitting in complete silence would only allow your brain to focus more on the pain.
“A wanderer caught me off guard,” you explained simply, purposefully leaving out the fact that you went there on your own.
He glanced up at you with an almost knowing look before turning his attention back to stitching your wound, “Where was your partner?”
There it was.
The question you were dreading.
“I uh-” you began; hissing as the needle went through the middle of your wound, “I was on my own.”
Zayne wasn’t surprised by your answer; the whole reason why hunters teamed up was to prevent things like this from happening, and if you were hurt he knew that your partner would be here with you, either injured themselves or here to support you.
But instead you were alone.
“You know you shouldn’t go on missions alone,” he pointed out; and you did. You knew it was risky, hunting down wanderers on your own always was and you certainly didn’t make a habit of doing it; based on what you’d read in the report, you thought you could handle it.
And for the most part you did; it was just that one wanderer that had been lurking behind you; you knew it was there, but by the time you’d turned around and fired your first shit at it, it was already too late.
It was a lucky hit. That was all; and you defeated it just like you had all the rest.
“I know,” you said knowingly, trying to ignore the pain that was rushing through your leg.
Only a few more seconds had passed before the wound on your leg was all stitched up courtesy of Zayne; it still hurt, a lot, but at least this way it wasn’t going to bleed anymore.
“Don’t go on a mission alone again,” he started, placing the needle back down on the tray next to you before removing his gloves, “if you need help, call me,”
A small smile came onto your face; but Zayne was no hunter, he was a doctor, it wasn’t his job to do that, and that’s why she softly replied back to him “Zayne, that’s sweet but you’re not hunter, it’s not your job to help me,”
“No, it’s my job to look after you and keep you safe,” he rebutled; meeting your eyes before glancing down at the wound on your leg; it was going to scar, but the scar should fade in time; and he’d done his best to make sure that the stitch was as neat as it possibly could be.
“You were lucky this time,” he continued, his fingers lightly hovering over the wound, a million different scenarios rushing through his mind about what could’ve happened ....you could’ve died… “what if you’re not next time?”
He knew the risk of being a hunter.
He knew that sometimes things happened that were out of your control.
He also knew that you were a great hunter; but if today had proven anything, it was that solo missions were a bad idea, no matter how skilled you were.
“Zayne-” you began, but your words trailed off when he placed his hand softly on yours; “No more solo missions.”
He wasn’t asking you, he was pleading with you, and that’s when you noticed the worry forming in his eyes.
“No more solo missions,” you repeated with a small smile, hoping that that would be enough to ease his worry.
And to an extent it was; he still worried about you of course, but he hoped your words were true, and that if anything like this happened again, you’d call him.
And regardless of what he was doing; he’d be there, to protect you.
Always.
Tagging:
@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @princess-harvey @callme-amaya @boobearymuch @comatosebunny09 @ryuustoru @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @ladyparamount @ayatoq @cheesemachine44 @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie @book-dragon03
#zayne x reader#zayne imagines#zayne imagine#zayne x you#zayne love and deepspace#lads imagines#lads x reader#lads imagine#love and deepspace zayne#l&ds zayne#love and deepspace#l&ds x reader#l&ds imagines#l&ds imagine
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