#she is also so messy... in different ways i used to be
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It’s New Year’s Eve in Middle Earth and midnight approaches.
Who is grabbing whom for a smooch? How does it go down?
If you can give three pairings that’s great, no limit though 😉 repeats are fine too.
Hi and thank you so much @gauntletgirlie for sending me this lovely ask game! It is truly the time of giving (smooches) <3 Again, lots of fun to think up some kissing scenarios for this one! I'll put them behind the cut again, and as the prompt implies, there be kissing ahead! All of these are Adar-related btw :) (I wrote these down in like an hour) (also each ask game the answers are getting longer oops)
The pairings:
Adar/Celebrimbor/Elrond
Adar/Celebrimbor (established, modern!AU)
Adar/Elrond (canon!AU)
...
...
Adar/Celebrimbor/Elrond
Elrond glanced between the older elf and the uruk, a look of indecision on his face. "Um-"
There wasn't a way to kiss both of them at the same time, was there? Not without crushing their noses and possibly knocking their teeth against each other, at least. But who should he kiss? He couldn't deny either of them. He just couldn't!
They might both be different in character, temperament, appearance, but he liked them equally. He'd just told them as much recently, for Eru's sake! He couldn't choose one over the other now! Not for something important as this!
He heard counting in the background, a countdown not into the New Year but to his own doom, or so it felt.
In a panic, he did the only thing he thought he could do-
And grabbed the back of both their heads in each of his hands, and gently but insistently moved their faces together until they kissed (with a look of surprise on their faces, but even so-).
'There! Problem solved!' he thought, adrenaline briefly surging and then falling in relief. (He knew they wanted each other too. They'd discussed this. The only thing they hadn't discussed was that blasted New Year's kiss.)
"Oh no, wait- my bad-," he suddenly heard behind himself. It was Círdan. "I miscalculated it seems! It's actually still one minute to midnight. Well, that gives us the chance to count once more, doesn't it?"
Elrond felt himself blanch slightly as Adar and Celebrimbor turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "What was that?" Adar asked. It didn't sound accusing, but oddly curious. A bit amused.
"Erm-"
"I suppose he thought this was a clever solution. Have us kiss so he wouldn't have to choose one of us over the other," Celebrimbor deduced and Elrond silently cursed himself because his friend knew him too well to not have figured it out. Again.
"Oh, is that so?" Adar asked, and he sounded just as amused as Celebrimbor had. "Well too 'bad' that we get a second chance then."
Elrond blinked at them in surprise and question, and only realised what was going on when he felt two hands at the back of his head just as the countdown neared "3...2...1" again.
...it was, indeed, a mess of noses knocking together and teeth clicking and even a bit of spit getting smeared, between the three of them. Messy, uncoordinated, but somehow - it still worked out.
Elrond moaned in delight, smiled into the kiss, and let the other two pull him closer into an embrace.
Adar/Celebrimbor (established, modern!AU)
The party had nearly reached it's apex, which meant Adar was close to having reached his maximum amount of social interactions for the night and was beginning to eagerly await going home with his fiancé.
As it stood, he couldn't find Celebrimbor amidst the crowd of people as he scanned it, making him frown. Galadriel must have seen the way he wandered around searching for the smith, because she caught his eye and motioned towards the kitchen with her glass of champagne, a small smile on her face.
Adar followed her pointing, and indeed, he could hear puttering and the sound of dishes getting cleaned coming from there - in combination with some truly awful music from the radio. He exchanged a mildly exasperated glance with the blonde elf, before he thanked her with a nod and walked into the kitchen.
Celebrimbor stood at the sink, garishly golden rubber gloves on his hands - where did Gil-Galad even *find* those things!? - as he hummed along to some corny pop music while he scrubbed at a plate from their dinner earlier.
Adar shook his head, but his expression was one of fondness. He turned down the radio to announce himself and stepped up behind the elf, wrapping his arms around the other's waist, head coming to rest on his fiancé's shoulder in an easy display of intimacy.
"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" he murmured, and pressed a kiss to Celebrimbor's cheek. The smith smiled as turned over his shoulder to look at the uruk. "You know you don't have to clean those dishes now, do you?"
"Hm," Celebrimbor replied, and leant back into the embrace. "I needed a bit of time away from the noise I suppose. Thought nobody would begrudge me that if I did something useful."
"Clever," Adar admired him, and his smile turned soft. "Remarkably selfless, too."
"Well, I suppose you'd know about all that as well, wouldn't you?" They stared at each other lovingly. They were so enarmoed with one another, they almost missed it when loud, shouted counting began in the living room.
"10...9...8..."
They didn't have to ask. Aside from a moment of surprise, nothing much changed. They remained as they were.
"7...6...5.."
Their noses brushed, eyes half-lidded. Neither had seen the other look so soft before. "A good way to end the year, don't you think?" Celebrimbor murmured.
"4...3...2..."
"Couldn't imagine a better one," Adar answered, and smiled as a leant forward.
"1...0!"
They kissed. Celebrimbor still had his hands in the soapy water of the sink as they stood in the kitchen amidst dirty dishes and empty cups, god-awful music quietly playing in the background. The position of the embrace would give the smith a slightly sore neck later, but-
Neither of them cared for the moment. This, right here - was perfect.
Adar/Elrond (canon!AU)
New Year's was a surprisingly official and festive affair in Lindon, Adar had quickly learned. He and his children had rarely celebrated the turning of the year before, but their treaty with the elves was beginning to influence their traditions.
Unlike the elves with their harps and flutes and harmonious singing, their festive modes of dress and expertly prepared feasts, the uruk had taken a much more grounded approach to the festivities.
Adar could hear them belt out yet another battle song, and judging by the barrels that got rolled towards the improvised 'tavern', the drink was flowing freely as well. Everywhere he went, he saw celebrations of the peace, open fires that cooked delicious-smelling stews and roasted meat, groups of uruk gathered together.
He himself would let his children enjoy the time of levity - but he found himself too tired to join in. The noise, how they all wanted to draw him to their sides so he might join them in song and drink, it was - just too much. As much as he loved them.
He paused in surprise when he finally arrived at his own tent and found he had a visitor.
"What brings you here?" He asked, surprised to find Elrond at the entrance. He hoped the other knew the visit was not an unwelcome one - the two of them had danced around one another for weeks now. Adar had hoped to see the other again, but had expected the peredhel to spend this time with his family and friends in Lindon.
Elrond smiled and offered a greeting. "My friend. It is good to see you," he paused. Adar noticed the other was breathing heavily and had a flushed face, as if he'd hurried to get here. "I- there is something important I wished to do. I feared I might have been too late."
Adar immediately raised his eyebrows and focused on the herald in concern. "Is something the matter?"
The other waved him off, but gently so. "No, no- nothing that should alarm you. Just something that was important to me, is all-"
Adar wanted to ask another question, but the uruk in the wider vicinity around them erupted into loud counting - it seemed the turning of the year was almost complete.
The leader of the uruk startled slightly when he felt gentle, wind-chilled hands on his face, and turned towards the herald only to find the other looking at him with hopeful eyes.
With a start, he understood. "May I kiss you?" How brave this one was, to hurry over here and place all his hopes on a kiss.
"I'd like nothing more," the uruk breathed back, and framed Elrond's face with his own hands, mindful of the gauntlet, before he pulled the other closer.
Elrond was smiling into the kiss, Adar could tell. His face felt chilled too, and Adar thought that he would like nothing more than to take the herald inside and wrap him into warg furs before offering him a warm drink and some food.
But that could wait. For now, there was only the press of soft lips on his own, hands that held him gently as if he was precious, and something blooming in his own chest as the countdown ran down to midnight.
#yes the adar/brimby one can be seen as a continuation of the mistletoe bit (brimby's fast okay also maybe he just proposed earlier day shh)#also adar/brimby/elrond is my newest mini-fixation and you guys are along for the ride now sorry lol#lol at the perspective shift in the throuple bit but the scenario made the most sense from Elrond's perspective imo#adar#adar trop#adar the rings of power#adar x elrond#adarond#adar x celebrimbor x elrond#adar x celebrimbor#silverscars#elrond#elrond peredhel#celebrimbor#trop#the rings of power#ask game#ask#answered#kissing#new year's#fanfic#fanfiction#my trop fanfic#mine
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god... mae nitw really feels like a younger version of myself in many ways and i legit just want to take care of her...
#quenthel special#she is also so messy... in different ways i used to be#its good so far#but also omg i had one of my bad moods last weekend and i was crying to my parents and my brother was around too#and today he was talking abt how he was thinking abt how often im sad and maybe i should learn an instument too#to never be sad again#and it was kind of sweet... anyway mae nitw plays the bass guitar so im just like thinking emoji#is the universe telling me to play the bass...
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maizuru and milsiril are my favorite fucked up dungeon meshi mother figures
#dungeon meshi#maizuru#milsiril#my post#both were involved in some kind of highly skilled group (espionage/ninja work and the canaries)#maizuru and milsiril both have some aspect that makes their relationship with their sort of son innately complicated.\#maizuru has been having and affair and milsiril has biases towards short lived races#both dote heavily on them but milsiril does it more clearly in an overprotective way#their sons have complicated emotions towards them. and they’re right for that#lets see… toshiro always eats the food maizuru makes due to the love in its preparation. he doesn’t seem to have a relationship with his mok#*mom#so he was very close to maizuru#but after finding out she and his dad was having an affair he closed off from her. maizuru still heavily dotes on him however#maizuru also invented a spell to scare his child self into returning to her#and trained ninja techniques into him (I believe?)#and milsiril (though she did train him) didn’t like the idea of kabru going into dangerous dungeons#she ended up coddling him in that regard. he doesn’t know how to do household chores (but I doubt toshiro knows either LMAO)#(he probably has servants or maizuru who do it for him)#but in fighting specifically:#milsiril also trained kabru in sword fighting but unlike maizuru’s training it’s not very useful in the dungeon#now back to food:#unlike maizuru’s food the elven foods milsiril gave kabru weren’t as well received#that has to do with the different culture he’s from though#he thinks of his birth mom’s food more and had a stringer relationship with her#*stronger#despite some issues kabru says that he’s grateful for her as his foster mom (iirc)#I imagine toshiro’s probably the same way even if he wouldn’t admit it (BECAUSE MAIZURU IS FUCKING HIS DAD???)#toshiro doesn’t feel close to any of his family so his biggest connections as a kid probably would’ve been maizuru and hien.#kabru has milsiril and rin and all anyone could ever want but would never want to return to#anyways. end of essay. tldr: milfs are messy
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just watched challengers at the cinema w my little sister. it was so intense wtf
#i was like grabbing onto my scalp just yanking my hair in the last 5 mins and at the end i yelled (quietly) LOVE WINS!#bc there were only 4 other ppl in the cinema lol#its so fucking stupid on the surface like ok complicated polyamory and also insane obsession with a sport bc that is what makes these people#who they are; as in the sport IS their identity as individuals that's what fills the void that lies underneath skin and bone etc.#blah blah basic shit about messy relationships with the self and romantically with others#but it's also so profound because despite the many obstacles and personality differences. they all love one another and the sport so much.#it's so weird it's twisted in a sense because it's like they only have one another and then obviously tennis (bc tennis is the bridge)#it's very.. codependent#i can't believe my little sister understood like not in a condescending way i cant believe she got it but in a “oh i didnt know you watched#stuff with this much emotion and that you cared enough to critique media“ since she doesn't usually tell me about what shes watching#and when she does she tells me about sitcoms ..#so yeah it was nice that we watched it together but also kind of weird bc#well surface level: the make out scenes were just us giggling awkwardly#and on a deeper level when i was watching it. i couldn't help but think about how#patrick at some point turned into an observer; he stopped being a part of the art tashi patrick trio (and tennis!) and turned#into a spectator#despite very much still being a fellow player#and then tashi became a spectator of the sport despite very much being absorbed in it all and in love with art (?)#i dont know what else to call it but her need to control him came from a place of some kind of care ... albeit manipulative and self serving#so Patrick and tashi are almost parallel lines if that makes sense#theyre kicked out of “the club” whatever the club may be (for Patrick he's no longer in the trio) and for Tashi once the trio is long gone#she's no longer a competitor bc of her injury#and then art is just in the middle of it all#and he'd always followed Patrick's lead in the past and then he started thinking for himself until he became so taken by Tashi#and then he just became her little follower#he just wants to be loved and told what to do because he doesn't know how else to live. im projecting? im projecting. anyway!#the ending. god. the ending sums up their whole past dynamic:#patrick is petty. art is irritated. tashi doesn't get their little dynamic. patrick loves art. art is forgiving. tashi loves the sport#(and maybe she loves them both in her own fucked up control freak way)#z.post
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agents of shield s7 really was a shockingly good conclusion to something I like… like on it’s own it’s a good season but I don’t really realize how highly I think of it overall (it’s not agents of shield s4 who’s praises I’ll sing any day of the week) until I think about how many concluding seasons or books of shows or series I love could have been better if they were more like it in a variety of ways…
#s speaks#currently inspired by me venting about my wishes for a raven king where Blue’s mirror powers were treated more like May’s empath powers#(which is funny since apparently Maggie’s og draft gave Blue literal empath powers although mirror is still in that vain to an extent)#and her having feelings and anger and resentment once LMD Coulson comes into the picture but she doesn’t see him as her Coulson#but also the way he can be a neutral space for her while she’s navigating the powers is comforting#I would have Lurved an arc like that for Blue/Bluesey#and the questioning if he’s real or not thread for Coulson himself and everyone around him and their relationships#which is helped by the existence of s6 which wasn’t the best aos season (although even though it had messy parts I liked how focused on May#it was and that Ming got to shine a lot. I could have done with less fs and far less Deke but that’s-)#but if that season didn’t exist at all s7 wouldn’t have landed because we needed to see those chars Without Coulson. If they had just#skipped to Daisy slamming the button and that’s that then he’s off on his road trip and that’s that—#but outside of trcbrainrot magicians could have used that season as a model so could legacies so could a lot of different genre things w#unsatisfying endings#sometimes I will have to do a list of my favorite conclusions to things since there’s definitely less that I wholly am a fan of and more I’#so so on or dislike.#in terms of tv shows would say community agents of shield and person of interest are the main ones that really hold up to me and are great#endings to shows I cared about#for books: CP2 TKM and others I can’t think of rn
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Ehhhh session went okay with S I think. Better than what I dreaded, which was her having her wall up still and not being able to reach her and it staying like that until we end in a matter of weeks. But she was still her. I didn't get to confront her about what happened and the things we know aren't okay. But we did connect a little, talked a little about how to use these sessions, she said she wants to still be around to help after we end, wants to help us get the right therapy etc, but she is just being very careful knowing our history with therapists and she wants it to be healthy and different and okay for us both. Which we appreciate obviously even if the unknown is terrifying. Talked about the referral for specialist therapy, she is still trying to make that happen for us. But we likely will have no therapy for a while. It is not what either of us planned for but I am glad she is navigating it the best way possible to make sure circumstances dont implode our relationship. We both agreed none of this is about me, her, or our relationship, but simply circumstances and we both want that not to ruin what we built. And to do that she needs to know her limits and hold them and we need less pressure on our relationship. I mean even just the fact we don't live in a safe environment yet again makes therapy almost impossible. It's not her fault or our fault. It just is. And I'm proud of our system for managing any of it tbh, considering the extent of triggers, I am proud of us for talking about any of it, for even trying, even being alive honestly.
The most helpful bit was her talking about trust. And reenactments. And being in the present. I don't remember it as it was a mush of child parts but I do remember the sense of 💡 moments they had, and a sense of the trust being directed back inwards and in to the present rather than more outwards and in to the future. They panic so much about the future, about who still stay, what will happen, things no one can know. And something clicked today where they realised that it is them that is always questioning, not her. She just trusts. And that their constant questioning can actually make others start questioning things they're sure about in the relationship or elsewhere, and end in self fulfilling circles. So our aim is to just hold on to the transitional thing of hers that represents this trust, and try and forget all the noise and questions. She said it represents her trust in us too, it shows she believes we are worthy of this trust, and that we never see it that way around. She said we often torture ourselves with things we feel she must feel when she doesn't at all. So. Trust. Trust that even though every part of our life is in limbo and scary that each day we face what we can and then the next and things will change. Trust that right in this moment she is there, still wants to get us the right help, still wants to be around. Trust that we can still get better and have a future. Trust that things will work out and that questioning actually has the opposite effect of what we want. Trust in how people feel and their actions rather than questioning. (We can tell when someone cares deep down, we just don't believe it.) Trust in ourselves that we are trusting for good reason. Trust just today and the next day and that we will face the end of therapy when it comes and then the next thing. Jeeeeeeze. Change is hard. Trusting in the present moment is hard. I feel relieved and scared and brave and shaky all at once.
#the very first thing she said was she is sorry to hear we felt our only option was to go back to k#🫠#that she understands we feel there is no one else but she hopes we get better options#that she still wants to report her#i was proud of a child part saying something about how k was jealous of something to do with s and how that is maybe not good#because they know s wants us to have lots of attachment figures and support and thats real care#they have come so so so far despite such messy therapy#i know parts of k want us to have lots of people too#i know her core is good and love#and i also know why everyone is very against her being in our life#but we are just trying to survive#and our attachment to her is so different now like she said we can go to hers today and we are like nah#it is in our choice and our control now#and that bit of it is healing#lol at me hiding this in tags even from people who dont know meeeee#i know how it looks#i also do trust us to survive the best ways we can#we always have#and we've walked away from our main longterm attachment figure and others before#we've also stayed away from k when it felt the best option and we had healthier support#in a backwards way i trust us to do the right things#we wouldnt be alive if we didnt have some kind of fucking clue how to get by know#s#k
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These drawings are holding hands in my mind…
to the pressure
#maria robotnik#so cool to see Ferry drawing stuff that isn’t from PAFL or Guide to Heresey#This piece has many similar feelings to the PMV for Coordinate Shift…#I think it really has to do with the composition of the characters and background#Both are standing in front of a light source in a dark area#Both voids have a big hole that illuminates the character with a bright abstract colour#Though I would say that Maria’s is more clearly meant to be a planet#meanwhile with Citrus’ art it’s just a vaguely-shaped oil spill#Still cool either way! I also noticed that in both pieces the void’s cut is a soft fuzzy blur instead of a clear one#So the objects silhoutte feels like it’s either mixing with the void or glowing in the void#It’s really so interesting how different yet similar they feel…#I think another one is the chr.’s relation to the viewer in CS the girl is looking away and also rather distressed so it’s like she’s#ignoring us and the thing behind her is too scary meanwhile with Mari she looks directly at us and so calmly too#whatever is happening to her home planet (I forgot the lore but I think it got blown-up?? By Robotnik???)#it’s already too far gone to be saved and so all we get is hopeless acceptance#colour theory also comes into play here BUT YOU GET MY POINT!!!#I LOVE FERRY NOPANAMAMANAN (and Citrus Soup)’s WORKS I HAVEN’T EVEN MENTIONED HER HATCHING 🥰💕💕💕💕#And her messy linesrt and the way everything feels like it was painted with only 3 layers or maybe even 1#I also noticed the big gloops near Maria’s arm is that an art typo or intentional? Idk doesn’t matter anymore it just adds to the messy feel#ferry nopanamanan
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Some mama time sketchs too
#this are messy sorry#i still dont got all my ideas resolved about how to envision the outcomes of gray and dark#i want to see it as messy flings that willowpelt had in the past#that she prefers to move on#not that type of being heartbreaked forever#tho very deep inside she is :(#to me dark could be the outcome with a loner or a shadowclan cat#they have it well but sometimes they would fight and such i think#willow will start to distrust him feeling like he is just using her as his tool to spy her clan#a big fight is the last time she sees him.#and going with that option that he was a shadowclan cat#not even in gatherings she sees him#she makes her bittersweet guess#she tries to wash those feelings to care in darkkit tho#...then for gray outcome im thinking about being a kittypet for fun#i would like to write the all story but its just doomed relationship not that much of an angst heartbreak#the just part in different ways#in this two flings willowpelt never tell the toms that she was expecting#these later make sense with later whitestorm showing so openly that he is the father of her last litter#that storyline yeah happiness for her at least a little ❤️#also the weird draws are dreams that willow had one time about her two first kits#in my mind the ideas make sense#stinky gooffy nature mom#just babbles and ideas
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Every time I revisit chapter 86 and the events right after the group talks Marcille down, I'm always struck by this bit here:
In particular, how similar it is to this:
The Winged Lion ate the same desire in both of them, more or less (I'm sure there are some nuances in both flavor and intent, but they are clearly similar things here). The Lion basically used this technique to kill Thistle, and for Marcille it was... not insignificant, but something she and her friends overcame without even fully realizing it was an obstacle.
I feel like this is another small piece of the story that shows how important support and love are - in navigating mental illness, in dealing with abuse or addiction, or in working through any other similar struggle that can be read into the Lion and his eating of desires.
It almost feels like Marcille was able to borrow the desires of her friends. She loves them and she trusts them, so even when she didn't have a desire to free herself from the Lion, the care they had for her well being still mattered to her.
It's the same thing later, with her hair.
She isn't able to notice the way her messy hair is making things harder, let alone do anything about it. But when Chilchuck points it out and then braids it back for her...
It's better. She likes it, things are easier now. Even though it isn't a desire she can feel for herself, it's not something that doesn't effect her. And because her friends care - because they know her well enough to notice the difference - she is given the chance to have a preference and to ask for their help.
We can obviously see some parallel ideas here with Mithrun and Kabru as well, but I'd also like to point out that Thistle gets this grace, too. Thistle, who had no one to help him up once he lost his will to resist, or to encourage him to find new desires once the Lion ate them all.
Thistle says he doesn't need anything, anymore...
But he is given an apology anyways.
It is not a kindness he desires. It is not a kindness he is able to ask for.
But it is a kindness that helps. It is a kindness that matters.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille donato#thistle dungeon meshi#dunmeshi analysis#mfw the foils are foiling..........#people have been killing it w the thistle analysis I am rotating this jester in my head now. thanks. I need to lie down#dungeon meshi spoilers
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I bring a real "Doctor x River OTP" vibe that a bunch of the DW fandom doesn't really like.
#the ONE good thing about college is that most of the fans I met there really did love her and this ship#but I think that might be because we were all mentally ill and Going Through It™#not that like. shipping this is a symptom of mental illness I just mean that this relationship was...honestly kind of unlike anything#else that was onscreen at the time?#she got to be MESSY. she was incredibly extra and emotional and vulnerable and she got to MESS UP SOMETIMES. IN REALLY BIG WAYS EVEN.#she was a genuinely MORALLY GREY character and all of these were seen not as things that made her inherently harmful or#someone the protagonist should At All Costs Stay Away From#but as someone uniquely equipped to understand him and STILL WORTH CARING FOR#there were so many like. BIG emotions and she was allowed to have PROBLEMS and be a lot of things that were considered#'unpalatable' for women to be and their whole thing was that he forgave her for EVERYTHING. even with all of her flaws she was the one#who 'always knew' and the one he listened to#...you can see how that might speak to a bunch of angry lonely mentally ill people#like this relationship isn't perfectly written. and I'm not trying to say that this era of the show was a grand feminist masterpiece lol#but...again. it really was a lot different than anything else that was on tv at the time#and she wasn't rail-thin and 23!!!! do you know how RARE it was for us to see a love interest outside of that!!!!!!!!!#(ESPECIALLY given. you know. the HORRIBLE toxic beauty standard culture that comes with. studying to be/actually being a performer.)#the only other like...significant female character I can think of from this tv era who was generally 'unpalatable' was...rachel from glee#and eventually they...idk what they did but she definitely became more in line with 'typical' protagonist fare#(and of course there was also the fact that THAT show--at least for a while--was ostensibly grounded in reality. and she was still#a certain age and body type)#(so I think my original point still stands)
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What Task Force 141’s Houses Would Look Like
John Price
- he lives in a cabin I cannot be convinced otherwise.
- very rustic, defo goes fishing or hunting for fun in his spare time
- likes to be away from the city
- its maximalist in kind of an organised chaos way he can find whatever he need’s immediately but to anyone else it looks kind of insane
- he’d be cleaner if he lived with someone - but yaknow #singledad
- very homey, warm vibes
- if the apocalypse ever hit you’d wanna be here, it’s decked out, secluded, he’s a bit of a doomsday prepper
- has once pissed outside to ‘mark his territory’ but you couldn’t torture that information out of him
- defo has that one room that is mysteriously locked and refuses to elaborate on when asked about it (Gaz secretly thinks it’s really cool) (it probably just has his fishing gear)
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
- very chic, cool tones
- screams “I did economy as an A-Level but I use pinterest”
- probably has had some type of dinner party with the 141 just to subtly flex to them that “in another life I was an interior designer”
- also defo cooks something with wine just, again to subtly flex his culture capital (he just wants some approval guys bless him)
- plant father - cannot be convinced otherwise
- very organised, keeps it pretty clean unless he’s feeling lazy which isn’t very often
- definitely has a record player - do not mention it or he will go on about how it “just sounds better” (with Price in the background nodding in agreement - but in an old man way)
- somewhere has a box of stuff that doesn’t fit his aesthetic but it’s shit he needs to keep anyways
John “Soap Mactavish
- messy as fuck, no rhyme or reason to it he just puts stuff down, forgets its there and thats just where it lives now COUGH man-child COUGH
- puts some of his drawings up on his walls
- defo has a comic book collection and some action figures
- bunch of childhood shit he refuses to throw away - criminal hoarder
- he likes the messy kind of boyish charm it has, every time his mom comes over she scolds him for it
- a bunch of stuff he’s collected from different places he’s gone, he’ll usually grab some stuff while on deployment if he has any free time, like snow globes or whatever
- went to Greece once and got one of those wooden dicks and finds it so funny, he says it’s the living room’s ‘conversation piece’
- he’s pretty clean when on base aswell, it’s just without the millitary’s structure or someone literally forcing him to clean up he doesn’t really care - it’s his house anyways
Simon “Ghost” Riley
- um
- yikes
- yeah you can tell he doesn’t really like spending time at home on leave
- the singular chair infront of the tv is so sad
- king of minimalism - if that’s what you wanna call it ig
- doesn’t bother decorating or getting anything past the bare essentials because what’s the point?
- doesn’t care it’s a shithole, he can afford a better house, but it kind of reminds him of home back in Manchester (crying)
- definitely chain smokes in his bathroom
- he’s got a treadmill there somewhere
- has a box full of his family’s belongings under his bed (crying again)
- no mirrors, only a small one in the bathroom to shave
- only item of decoration is a snow globe Soap gave him once, it sits next to his bed
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod#call of duty modern warfare#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#john price#simon ghost riley x reader#john price x reader#captain price#ghost cod#soap cod#gaz cod
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﴾ haunt me
pairing: demon!lee minho x f!reader
genre: one-shot, horror au, smut
word count: 11,2K
warnings: small!stalking ⋆ obsessive behavior ⋆ blood ⋆ hair!pulling⋆ ass!slapping ⋆ biting! ⋆ pain!kink⋆ choking! ⋆ small!fear play⋆ dom!leeknow & sub!reader ⋆ rough!sex ⋆ ass up face down!position ⋆ fingering (f.receiving) ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!
summary: on Halloween night, you and your friends gather for a classic spirit summoning, eager to make the most of this tradition, unaware that you will be the one to face the consequences…
author’s note: this is actually the first ever thing I wrote here, but I forgot about it but now it’s finally seeing the light of the day
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The blanket around you did nothing for the coldness that seeped into your skin. Your teeth are still chattering, lips dry and nose runny. You should’ve known better, all of you. Your muscles are straining with every small move you make to get yourself a little more comfortable on the hard floor. Your eyes go over the room, finding only disappointment. The costumes, makeup and left over mess reminded everyone of how horrible the party was. You remember how excited you and your friends were. You all spend so much time getting ready, almost freezing to death while walking to the so called party. You looked forward to it so much and maybe you did have way too high of expectations. Everything was awful and mostly — it lacked the Halloween spirit.
Your attention goes back to the television, just as the lead character is being chased by the killer. Her screams pierce your ears, while you take a small sip of the wine in your hands. You and your friends decided to just rather go home and have a small party of your own. The disappointment was so great that none of you had an appetite for searching for another party. However the costume still wrapped around your body was telling you something different. Just watching horror movies and sitting in a costume didn’t fill the need of thrill you so needed.
Soft footsteps are heard, making you all turn, some in fright, thinking that something evil is coming right towards you all, but is just your friend Katherine. The soft light, illuminates her figure clad in dark, long dress, her nails glimmering as she lifts up something to show you. Firstly you only see what seems like a plate, but as another one of your friends goes to switch on a lamp beside you, all of you immediately realize what she was holding.
“Look what I got!” Her voice is chippery, but it holds a small mocking at the end. A series of groans and small sounds echo around you, while your eyes are still on the Ouija board in her hands. Your eyes go quickly over the letters and the planchette. Even with alcohol in your system, you are getting a really weird feeling from the piece of wood. It makes the hair at the back of your head stand up, shivers going down your spine. You are definitely not alone, because your friend Jade is almost trembling from even the thought of using such thing. Your hand falls on top of her messy hair to soothen her, but your eyes are still on the witch who rolls her eyes at her other friend’s noises. “Oh, common, it’s mandatory.”
The girl next to you shakes her head immediately, hand pointing to the board, making the others for a second silent. “You know what happens after using that thing, right?” You have to agree a little with her weariness. You have ever actually thought about talking to the death. Nothing made you believe something evil existed, but also you were not a sceptic. just nothing made you believe there was something more so far. Jade was scared of everything, so your friends didn’t take her warning so seriously and you have to huff softly at that.
“Well, yeah—“ Katherine shrugs, looking down at the Ouija board. “But also no, because I’ve never tried it.”
You watch her as she sits down on the floor before you, your other two friends circling around her to look closely at the wooden tablet. You too can’t help, but tilt your head at it. There were few scratches, dark smudges, but maybe it was that design. “Where did you get this?” You wonder, because you don’t think she has these kinds of things just laying around in her apartment.
She looks up at you, dark eyes peeking out from behind her neon yellow contact lenses. “The thrift store.” Some of you have to laugh shortly at her dry response, some too occupied by the board laying before you all.
“Are there at least instructions?” Wonders out loud your friend Hannah who sits across from you in her scary clown costume.
“Who needs them?”
It has to be the alcohol or maybe you were already getting tired, but as the television is shut off, lights switched off, you have this weird feeling on the back of your head. You scratch at the burning spot, distracting yourself for just a second by liting up some few candles. The flame gives you the small amount of warmth you so desperately need. You can still feel the coldness licking at your skin, but there was also this awful heat gathering in your chest. Were you nervous? Scared? A frown is plastered on your face, eyes never leaving the Ouija board, like the planchette would move at any second.
This uneasy feeling is not shared however, but still your friends seem to get a little quieter. All of you sit on the floor, the only light being the few lit candles around you and the Moon peeking behind the curtains. Was it the thought of doing something you shouldn’t that was scaring you? You refuse to believe that something in the shadows was peaking at you. The paranoia was eating you alive. Your frozen finger digs into your skin, pulse jumping rapidly and you have to remind yourself that it is all just in your head. None of you were touching it so far, however the sight of those scratches, dips and cravings on the board seem to pierce your soul.
You blink rapidly, smudging your makeup, because you have to sigh in exhaustion. You can’t remember the last time you were so paranoid and — scared. Maybe it is only because you have never tried it, but looking at your other friends they didn’t seem too into it. They still chatted between each other shortly, swallowing down the cheep wine. You look down into your own cup, swirling the liquid around as you can’t find the appetite to take a sip right now.
You are startled a little when someone claps their hands together, making your attention move to Katherine who rubs her palms together. “Are we going to do this?” Your eyes flicker to your scared friend, a little tipsier than before, so you are not too surprised by seeing her just nod in agreement. You do not protest either, putting down your cup next to you and outstretching your hands to the planchette that sits in the middle of the floor.
The silence is heavy, completely aware of the darkness wrapping around you, piercing your back. You try to ignore it as best as you can, shaking your head at yourself, pressing your finger lightly on the planchette. Nothing is heard for a second, all of you looking at each other briefly, before Amanda speaks up. “Is anybody here?” She calls out and her voice seem to echo around you almost.
Silence again, but you can’t help, but look around. Though you have to sigh a little when the same question is repeated. “It doesn’t work like that.” You say, cutting through the quiet.
Everyone turns to look at you and your friend can’t help, but raise a challenging eyebrow. “Okay, you try then.” Says Hannah.
You clear your throat a little, swallowing the invisible lump in your throat. The way you are becoming nervous is making you anxious. The blanket around you slips from your shoulders, the cold immediately kissing you. It felt like there was no layer left between you and the darkness. When you straighten your back, shuffling a little closer to the board, your fingers start to tremble. The small frown of confusion by your body reacting like this is visible, but you try to keep it together. Licking your lips, your eyes go around the room, before plastering your eyes back down. “We welcome everyone who wants to join us and if anyone is here, we would like you to make a sign.” You take a deep breaths between each word, not knowing exactly what is suitable to say in this kind of situation.
Your voice seems almost loud in the quiet room, but everyone seems to listen carefully to you. You do too, a little too hard, because the only thing you can hear for a while is your blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes are wide open, searching in the dark behind your friends. You don’t even know for what you are searching, but you feel like the answer is close. You have never talk to the dead, but you can’t say that people who do this are exaggerating. The waiting for something to happen is frightening and you think you have never been so on high alert over something that wasn’t even there.
“Could you maybe knock on something?” Asks Jade, her voice quiet, but in the room even a pin drooping could be heard.
“Or make that candle blow out?”
Questions fly across the room, though nothing happens for a moment. All of you look at each side of the room, your eyes however fall into the hallway where you were sitting next to. Nothing is seen, only those specks of light made by your eyes. However you swear you feel warmth coming from the end of the hallway. It was almost suffocating in a way, already thinking it’s just you, but then something does happen and you feel it yourself as very one else in the room.
“It’s moving….” Exclaims Amanda in shock, staring down at the planchette. Your own breath gets stuck in your throat, because you swear you feel the planchette vibrating under your fingers. Your eyes immediately trail over to your friends in disbelief. It moves subtly in short stops and you have to shake your head at it.
“Who is moving it?”
“It’s not me! You’re doing it!”
The voices of your friends fall to deaf ears. You don’t want to believe it, but looking at the frightened faces of your friends, you can tell that their reactions are completely genuine. Nervous feeling creeps up on you, watching the planchette travel over the board, before it stops at a corner. “Yes?” You say softy the word and you swallow roughly, eyes trailing over the room. You don’t want to believe it, but you are now left with no choice. “Is it yes that someone is here with us?” You ask again, listening carefully.
For a moment you only hear your friends’ whimpers of fear and your own heart in your ears, but then a small tap is heard behind you. Your head whips around quickly, your own gasp matching with the others as you stare with wide eyes at the window behind you. Only the Moon and swinging trees can be seen, nothing other than that. You turn back around to look at your friends, but your eyes fall onto something different.
The candles around you seem to rise, flame flickering and bending like something is blowing at them. Your own face of your fear, makes them look into the direction and few hushed curses are being shared across the room. “Holy shit–“ Says Hannah.
“Maybe you left the window open?”
“You know damn well that I didn’t, Jade”
You are not following their conversation again, lost in thought or to be honest you can’t even think straight right at this moment. Your face scrunches up, shivers going down your spine. You eyes widened again, freezing in your spot. The side of your body burns, it left like something was poking you, telling you to turn around. You can’t move however for a second, from the corner of your eye watching your friends panic over the planchette moving again, but you are not even touching it anymore. The thing that frightens the most is the feeling of someone’s eyes staring at your back.
Your head turns slowly around, body screaming at you not to, but something is controlling you, pushing you to look back into the hallway. The hot air rushes to your face and it wasn’t from the candles. When you finally turn to glance into the darkness, your blurry eyes from not blinking at all don’t see anything for a moment, but soon from the darkness appears a sphere, then it forms and forms till it turns into a silhouette of a person.
You gasp, breath getting stuck in your chest. It is eery, horrifying sight and even if you finally blink rapidly, like it was just your own eyes playing tricks on you, it only seems to get closer. It reaches for you and you want to pull back, but can’t. You watch the mass of darkness become fuller slowly, before you see pair of red beaming eyes forming out of it. You lips fall apart, a loud scream at the back of your tongue, but before it can fall out of you, the candles that you just now realized became even higher dim back down by blink of an eye.
The sound of the board being thrown across the room, makes you snap out of the trance, scrambling away, just like your friends. You are breathing hard, head turning to look at others who only have their eyes on the board in the corner of the room. And you at the moment realize in your frightened state that you have been the only one who saw the truth.
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With every step, with every breath you took, your head would turn around. Paranoia seemed to follow you the moment you left your friend’s apartment and you hoped that was the only thing truly following you. You lived quite far, too late to catch the last bus, leaving you to walk your way home. However you were at least walking through the city and maybe you were just imagining the burning eyes at the back of your head. And if you weren’t, a look from a stranger couldn’t make you feel like this. Someone — something was sizing you up, following you, perfectly mimicking your movements like your own shadow and just as you though you caught it, turning around swiftly — nothing, only a crowd of people who didn’t even acknowledge your presence.
You didn’t either, there seem to be invisible to you and the thing following you that couldn’t be seen either however, had a strong sense of presence. Was there really safety in numbers? After a while, every little noise made you jump, laughter and occasional screams of terror when the unreal monsters jumped at someone, made your head spin. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe, like you already you have already considered, it was only in your head. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to try and talk to the dead and on this night specifically as everyone around you made your delusions even stronger.
You couldn’t breathe. Every time your feet moved faster, it seemed to be even closer to you. So close you that you could feel it reaching the back of your neck or was it just the wind? Your eyes trailed over the people. No one was looking at you, everyone minded their own, drinking the night away and crowding the small square. What if you and your friends decided to go here instead and not the party? What if you wouldn’t play with the board?
Your stroll slowed down to a full stop. It felt like whatever that was following you disappeared, but also at the same time seemed even closer to you. Just out of sight. You didn’t want to search for it, but something was telling you to do so. You stopped at the middle of the crowd, eyes almost like being pulled by a magnet stopping on a one specific place. The people walked through your line of vision before it become clear to you why you were so drawn to that spot.
There — right there, under the roof of a stand stood what it looked like a man by his slightly broad shoulders and short hair, but by the shadow which the roof casted on him, you couldn’t even get a glimpse of his face. However that wasn’t necessary. The way he stood…from his whole body radiated this menacing, evil aura that made your whole body freeze. Your breath was taken away from you, eyes wide, staring at the unknown figure. The same, almost even more intense wave of fear washed over you, it felt the same when you looked down the dark hallway. He didn’t feel like a real person, he felt like something way more than that. Something dark and hungry and it was staring right back at you. You didn’t see his eyes, but you just know. This couldn’t be real…
This couldn’t be real. Things like this don’t exist and if they did you feel like they would be more documented. You weren’t a true believer nor a sceptic, but you really didn’t feel like wanting to know the truth right now. He, it didn’t move and even by blinking, it didn’t vanish like you wished it would. It was probably just a person, a person with a really scary costume.
A gasp leaves you as suddenly someone elbows you. You turn to the person, catching there sneer and you realize that maybe standing in the middle of the street wasn’t a good idea. You looked stupid, but that was the least of your worries as you glance back at the man, only him being nowhere to be found. Were you just imagining things at this point? Maybe your fear was only playing with you. You ignore the weird occurrence as best as you could, deciding to continue heading back home. Your apartment was just few blocks away and at the thought of finally being inside your safe space makes you pick your pace.
The feeling of being followed doesn’t leave you however, but you keep your head high in a mock confidence, showing whatever this thing was that you are brave. You really weren’t much of an actress, because as soon as you reach the entrance door to your building, you rush to unlocked it, slipping in quickly, like the thing would just squeeze right through you. The doors slam shut loudly and you hope that none of the other residents won’t come to scold you. The more you walk your way up the stairs to your apartment, the more you don’t acknowledge the creepy feeling that someone is watching you.
Your apartment door shines brightly at you and you out of breath fumble with your keys. The satisfying click and smell of your home made you sight out in relief. You were so happy to be finally inside, greeting your cat who waited for you just as you opened the door. Your hands smoothen down her fluffy hair, sighing at her calming purring. Everything that happened flew over your head as you finally started to feel at ease. Like you thought — it was just your imagination, nothing more…
You weren’t one for drinking till you passed out, but you find yourself stumbling just a little as you pull off your shoes, already ruined just by a one night of walking. Making your way into your kitchen, you go to give some food to your fluffball who meowed at your every move and that sound really ease your racing heart.
Putting down the bowl on the floor, you watch your cat eating away for a second. You are lost in thought, though nothing specific was running through your head, just blankly staring into space. But just as you move to make your way to your bedroom, you saw something shift from the corner of your eye. Looking up, you however find nothing, but the dark corner of your unlight living room and at that your patience runs low. For yourself, because you can’t believe that you are making yourself see things in your own home where you are supposed to feel the safest.
You flip the light switch next to you, illuminating the room in subtle orange hue, your eyes still unmoving from the spot and still nothing was there. A sigh leaves you, but you refuse to say it was out of relief. At that you went to take your upper layer off, also fixing yourself something knowing that if you won’t eat or drink something, it will kill you in the morning.
You are exhausted, a heavy weight on top of your shoulders telling you to just lay down. In some way however you are still on high alert, maybe the aftermath of your own self scaring you. You thought about showering, but to be honest you didn’t have the energy to do all of your routine at this hour and also there is nothing for you to wash off.
You stumble again, but now over the bottom of your dress, catching yourself just in time with your hand on the doorway to your bedroom. The sheer, soft fabric is thrown on your bed, ignoring the mess all over the room. The corset around you didn’t suffocate you and you wonder what exactly is it that is making you lose your breath. Your hands fumble over your back, fingers just at the lacing of your top, but just before you can pull at it, you hear a noise.
It was loud and it momentarily makes you look back into the direction of your living room. You sigh shortly after, shaking your head at your own delusions. It was just your cat probably. However when you again go to pull at the string of your corset, you hear a meow right beside you, before you see your cat jumping into your field of vision on your bed. You freeze slightly, hands stilling. It is an old building, it makes noises all the time — it was nothing. You try to gaslight yourself by thinking it didn’t even happened, but then there’s even a louder bang! coming from behind you.
Your head whips around wildly, hair falling into your wide eyes that stare into your dark hallway. You feel your heart pounding against your chest and in your state of shock you are not quick enough to stop your cat from running to the direction of the noise. Your hands outstretch before you, in hushed whisper pleading your cat to come back, but her fuffy, long tail is soon gone from your vision. You hate the lump forming in your throat and the way your bottom lip quivers. That noise almost again makes you wonder if you imagine it, but then you hear it again, now in series of three bangs that echoed in your apartment. It sounded like knocking, mocking you to let whoever — whatever it was in, but what if it was already here with you? It sounded like the noises were meant for you to come in, get closer.
The noises weren’t the only thing making you frighten, it was also the way the air around you seems to drop in temperature. You immediately shiver, goosebumps appearing all over your body. But there was this odd warmness, starting right at the entrance of your open bedroom door. It was so appealing…
You finally take a step closer to the hallway when you hear another loud noise. The sudden realization that your cat might be in danger makes you take few steps further even with the fear you held in yourself. You hate her for it, but you are now only scared for her. You quickly look around your room for any kind of weapon, but you find nothing, realizing that your pepper spray was in your purse that you left on your kitchen counter. You just have to be brave…That’s what you try to tell yourself, while slowly making your way out of the room.
The darkness seemed deeper that when you went in your bedroom. It is intoxicating, heavy, it pierces your skin and stings at your eyes. Your lungs scream for air as you try not to breath at all, scared to even make a sound. Your light costume leaves you in very vulnerable state and it makes you wrap your arms around your stomach that grumbles uncomfortably. What if the thing you thought followed you was a man and he somehow got into your apartment? You don’t know if a man is better than an entity, but it certainly would make you feel less crazy. You hope that the knocking was mistaken, that it was only someone at your door. You have to tell yourself that there’s no way for someone to break in, because you locked the door immediately when you came in. However something at the back of your mind is telling you that you have the right to be frightened.
And you were to death, when you stop at the corner, living room just right behind a wall. Your eyes didn’t get use to the darknesss and looking at the threshold leading to your living room, you realized you weren’t going after light. You were only going down the path that seeped warmness, blazing hot, coming right from your living room. There was no light, the one you switched on was left that way, but now there’s not a single flicker of it peeking out. You listen carefully, for your cat or your intruder, but the sound of your heart makes your ears ring, so you had nothing, but your sight right now.
Your hand almost tears the fabric of your skirt as you lean forward a little, squinting into the room. A whiff of the same feeling washes over you again, making you pull yourself back with a choked sigh. It is the same one — like the one you felt while looking into the hallway, like the one when you saw the silhouette of the man and the same one that has been following you. Your eyes become blurry with tears, panicking, mind racing. You have no clue what to do. You have no weapon, your phone is in your kitchen and your keys…right beside the door to your apartment.
It is a bad idea, but if you would run through the living room quickly enough, you can get out. There’s still a chance that the intruder had your keys, so you ask yourself — are you willing to take the chances? Of getting caught by this…thing. You don’t want to leave your cat alone or worse with it, but if you would just make it next door to your neighbor, you can safe her and yourself. Your hand tightens around your skirt, picking it up and sprinting out of your hiding spot, but as soon as you do — you see him.
You choke, the sound bumbling in your throat, your eye staring straight at the silhouette in the corner of your room. Even in the dark, you can see it. The mass of darkness coming from him alone and the hot air suffocates you, just by looking into his direction. Tears stream down your face as you turn back to the direction of the door and back at the man, but then you hear a soft purring sound. Your cat is rubbing herself against the man’s feet and even if you are thankful nothing happened to her, you are terrified from seeing her so close to that man. Her white fur is bright and you almost come rushing to her, but as your eyes go back to the door, you run to that direction instead.
Your hand outstretches, reaches for the doorknob, even if you can see the keys glimmering before your teary eyes there was no salvation for you. You are turned around, roughly pushed to the door and a whimper of pain leaves you as your back meets the wood. Your mouth opens, ready to scream, but like he knew, his hand falls over your lips, silencing your cry for help.
Your teary eyes stare at the faceless person, eyes streaming down your face and pooling at his hand. You are held against the door, but not with his body, it was like your whole body had frozen over. You want to scream in fear, instincts telling you to just run, but you can’t move an inch. Though your body trembles, eyes searching, trying to get a view of this man. He didn’t feel real, his skin is hot, breath fanning over your face. You are starting to sweat from all the different temperatures, sobbing in fear as you hear his lips fall apart.
“Don’t scream.”
His voice is low, quiet yet strong. You don’t want to fulfill his demand, but the tone of voice — it echoed in your mind, repeating and repeating. His hand falls from your lips and you take in deep breaths, choking. You can’t even muster to scream, you can’t and you don’t want to, because he maybe will hurt you. “Please, don’t hurt me — don’t kill me.” You are shuttering over your words, choking again in your tears.
You can see him tilt his head at your pleas, standing right before your shaking body so casually it made you sick. He didn’t even try to do something to you yet and that definitely heightens the terror in you. You sob, crying and you gasping at the sound of him sushing you. You back pressed harder against the door, finally finding enough strength to move just a little away from him, when he leans just a little closer to you. “Where’s the fun in that?” He whispers to you, teasing you almost, amused tone in his voice. You look at him slightly confused, eyes blurry, still not knowing what this man looks like. You don’t feel at ease at his tone nor his words of small assurance. It is like he could see you, because you can hear the click of his shoes, stepping a little away from you. “I thought you wanted me to make myself known?”
You are left even more confused, before it quickly comes clear to you. You can’t — you won’t believe it. Those words pierce you painfully and with seeing him this much away from you, makes you immediately think of the silhouette you have seen following. This man could be just a man, but his words…back at the small seance you spoke them. A sharp intake is heard, shaking your head at the thought of this man being something more. The thought crossed your mind, but you actually never would think that it might be the truth. If it is — if this man is something from the other realm, haunting you, making you tremble in fear that it probably thrives in…you can’t – “No…” Your disagreement is quiet, heart beating wildly in horror as you look over the mass of darkness around him, evil. “This is some sick joke — you are just playing with me. Who’s behind his?” Your words are not making sense anymore to you, too many thoughts of how it could be possible leaves you thinking that it might be just a stupid prank, but no human could make you this sort of fear.
The man sneers, hissing like a snake at your words. It sounded like you just insulted him, gasping loudly when he makes a one big step closer to you and you swear your noses almost bump together. “Do you think your friends can do this?” He says, raising his hand, putting it right before your eyes. Your wide eyes stare at his hand forming into fist and by the act you see the light in your kitchen flickering with every subtle move of his. You look at him, finally seeing in the small flickers of light his face. You didn’t know what to expect, maybe a gross man or the devil himself with horns and a face of death, but you are certainly left speechless.
His dark, brown hair is slightly in his eyes. They shine, deep red at the corners that flicker with the light. Long and sculpted nose leads you to trail your eyes over his high cheekbones to his cupids bow and then his bitten, plump lips. This wasn’t a face of evil, he looked like an angel, no face that should make you feel terrified, but you can see it in his eyes. Sinister, holding evil as well as wisdom that you could never imagine or reach. Even in this small moment you had enough time to look him over, but as his hand closes into tight fist, the sound of the lightbulb shattering makes you fall back into the stage of horror. You can hear your cat running away from the scene and your tears recur, because you finally start to believe. “Do you think your friends could ever make you feel so frightened?” You shake your head, head spinning at what just happened.
He turned on the light with just his hand in the air, with just putting his hand into a fist he crushed it and you don’t want to know what else he can do. “I don’t understand…w-who are you?” You are hyperventilating, praying that is just your imagination again, but you can’t close your eyes and let him vanish from your sight. You need to see him.
“The better question is… what am I?” You are again shaking your head and it’s like he can see your thoughts, because he is making you say out loud what you have been thinking all along. You don’t seem him, but his lips lift up slightly for a moment at his own memory. “When you were playing with that Ouija board, do you know, that you opened the gates for anyone to go through?” A cry leaves you, just as the light in the corner of the room is light up with a flick of his finger. Your eyes stare into his amused ones and somehow you wished you didn’t have to see him. “You didn’t even closed it...”
Realization strikes you, your trembling stopping when you thought of your friends. What if they are also in danger just because of you? You would definitely wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt. ‘What am I?’ His words are the one thing on your mind right now. How much is he dangerous? He doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even breathe it seems, your eyes staring blankly at his face. “Oh, my—“ You can’t even finish the word as his hand quickly by a blink of an eye wraps around your throat.
You feel him squeeze his fingers in a warning, not quite choking you, but it still makes you gasp for air. “Don’t say his name, he can’t help you. You did this to yourself—“
“Are you the devil?” You wonder out loud and his whole demeanor changes, laughing drily at your question.
“I preciete the compliment, but no.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his weird behavior. You still fear him, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you at all. Maybe he already has you right where he wants, under him with his hand on your throat, playing with your life.
He maybe might not be the devil himself, but he still had those rings of fire around his irises. He is evil, you know it and evil always wants something. Like he said, you have done this to yourself and you have to pay. You know he won’t let you go, he didn’t stop following you from the apartment and even if you know who or maybe what he looks like, it doesn’t calm you down. You still know so little and you wish you didn’t have to know further. You are completely at his mercy and you are pulled back into the present when his hand tightens again, pulse jumping against his fingers.
“Just take what you want—“
He tsked at you, he now being the one shaking his head and you can’t move away from him or even fight against his strong hold as he makes you lean closer to his face. “Be careful with your words.” His upper teeth are revealed with how much he is sneering and it makes you look down at his mouth. His upper front teeth are bigger slightly, but they weren’t the thing that makes your heart skip a beat — his canine teeth were sharp as a razor and you wonder if his sneering is prediction of him maybe biting you, eating at your flesh. “I’m not the type of evil you’re imaging right now…” His voice is a little softer than before and you wonder if he can read your mind.
Then what is he? “T-then what are you?” You ask him, genuinely curious about his answer.
He lowers his head, your breathing stilling, leaving you speechless as he comes close enough to you that your lips are almost touching. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to find out yourself, like the big girl you are?” His breath words bounce off your parted lips, taking in his raw scent.
Heat pools over you, watching him pull away from you just to look back at your face. His words sounded suggestive and you hope your own mind isn’t messing with you. “You won’t hurt me?” Was he just playing with you all along? Just taking in the pleasure of seeing you scared?
“Not if you don’t want me to…I still have to take something.” His dark eyes fall over your body and you want nothing more than to cover yourself, because you realize at the moment how much your costume is provocative.
“Why? I didn’t ask for you — this.”
He tilts his head again, his eyes not holding amusement and you can feel the air thickening around you. “Did you now? Or were your drunk thoughts just speaking for you?” You breathe out, embarrassment making your skin hot at touch and you know he can feel it under his hand.
You are not sure if you wished for it, but it quickly reaches the surface. Your darkest desire of being taken over, filled with heat and pleasure…”Are you—“ You don’t even have to say it as he releases his hold on your throat, just to press his thumb on your bottom lip.
His touch is electrifying, addictive almost and your whole mind and body swirls for a moment. “A demon, that’s all what you need to know.” You almost nod your head in agreement, letting him trail his thumb across your lips, dangerously close to slipping in your warm mouth. You are puzzled by your own behavior, but you can’t fight it. The urge of him just coming a little closer to you, so you can feel more of him is strong. He can see it on your face and then there’s the subtle smile on his lips again, pouting and nodding at how much your body stops to shake. It certainly had an effect on him as wel, but the look on your tear stained face makes the hunger in him even bigger. “Or I could visit one of your friends…” He teases, though also too occupied by the feeling of his skin on yours.
“Just take me.”
You try to justify yourself, that you are doing this for them, but both of you know you want it — need it more. The fear is at the back of your head, forgotten almost replaced by the fuzzy feeling your mind is in. “Careful what you say.” He warns you again, maybe not to provoke him into doing something you didn’t want, but it flies over your head rather quickly.
His touch leaves you, but you don’t search for it as you are again left in small confusion. You know that you somehow wish for something specific, but you never thought it would come in this way. It makes you feel dirty, used already, but also it makes your nerve endings tingle. Desire for pleasure is normal for humans and you wonder how much he has seen them before. “Why me?” You ask him, surely you can’t be the only one on this night wishing.
“You intrigued me — your soul.” He says and his words hit you deeper than they should. “Calling for something to fill this hole in your chest. I can see into places that people so desperately try to keep hidden…tell me, are you hiding something Y/N?” You are taken back by the sound of your name, but you are aware that he must know you better than you know yourself.
“No…”
“Really…interesting.” The soft light creates shadows across his chiseled face, when he leans over you. “The moment I appeared…you didn’t seem so scared anymore. Does this idea of being used by a blood thirsty demon excites you?”
“No…”
The smile is tugging at your heart, a little eery in some way. “Then why can I smell your arousal from here?” You swallow roughly and you soon realize how much you have been pressing your thighs together. You can feel your slick coating your inner thighs, but the embarrassment doesn’t even reach you, because he looks like he drinks it all up. “I’m a demon of pleasure and desire, there’s no need to feel even an ounce of shame…” He is now reassuring you and his soothing voice is so different from the one you heard moments ago.
“But you’re a demon.” You state the now obvious and the statement should make you laugh in disbelief, but it only strikes you with a feeling you definitely feel shame about.
You feel the heat of his skin way before you feel the subtle touch of his hand on your exposed thigh. Goosebumps spread all over your body, swallowing your gasp at how pleasurable just this felt. “And a man still…” His fingers trail over the outer part of your thigh and your leg does jump away a little, but he was too addictive. “Doesn’t this idea of someone inhumanly powerful taking over your body and soul not excite you?” His voice is hushed and it feels so sweet in your ears.
You shake your head, though not doing anything to move away from him. “I won’t let you take my soul.” You can’t let him take the thing that makes you who you are.
“Maybe not…” Your eyes blink at him, head rolling back against the door as he straightens his back to tower over you. “But your body will be mine—“
You have now words, not even a sound leaves you, because you are left paralyzed when his hand squeezes roughly at the soft skin of thigh. Your wide eyes are staring into his, taken back by the bold move. He doesn’t have to hear any permission to touch you, it was all written right in front of him — all over you face, body and even your soul that you seem to be very sure that it will never be his. He has to wonder himself about how much this might be true, because you are responding to his touch like you have never been touched before. Just by his hand, playing with the string of your garter belt that held your white stockings leaves you gasping.
You are in trouble, you know, because you shouldn’t feel this much pleasure from the touch of a demon. However you already feel your body succumbing to him, just like he wanted. His hand travels under the thin layer of your skirt, dipping right into the mess you made of yourself. A sound leaves you unknowingly, head empty as he moves your thighs apart. The skin of your inner thighs is raw from how much you have been pressing your legs together, but you find yourself not caring anymore. With every breath you take, his hand trails higher and he bites his lip at how hot you feel against him.
His eyes travel across your face. Your eyes are barely open and he thinks he has never seen someone so away from their own mind by his moves. And obsessive, disgusting feeling washes over him, watching you sigh out in bliss as the tips of his fingers finally press over your covered clit. Your back arches a little, breasts pushing against your tight corset and he marvels over your barely covered body. “Who are you?” He asks you. You are dirty, thinking that wearing something like this in public is proper. His nature rages at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.
You are slightly puzzled by his question, because the feeling of his hand right between your thighs is already too much for you to handle. “Christine…from Phantom of the Opera.” You response, eyes blinking open at him, just as he starts to form circles over your twitching clit.
“Adorable.”
Sharp moan flies out of your mouth, when he suddenly pulls the material of your underwear to the side. The air kisses your cunt, but it soon is warmed up by his fingers again. You are horrified of yourself right now. Why are you enjoying this? You have to remind yourself who and what is touching you, but you think nothing ever felt better. You have never made yourself and definitely not anyone else almost fall apart just by running your fingers through your folds. He is looking at you so intensely, you want to quiver. “Already this wet?” You can’t feel any shame in you and it is definite that he is making you feel like that. Should you be thankful? He is giving you sheer pleasure, circling your clit directly, after pushing the hood away from it. “Just like that, huh?” You don’t have any response for him, only whimpers of euphoria. “How long has it been?”
Your head rolls back, gasping at his touch. He knew your body better than you. Rubbing just at the perfect pace to make you crazy, pressing hard enough for your hips to buckle. Saliva gathers in your mouth, listening to the noises of your dripping center. You are so lost already that the only thing that makes you wake up is when his movements come to a stop. “What?” You say more because you didn’t want him to stop, looking back at him with big eyes and you realize he just asked you a question.
He leans closer to you, head falling on top of your shoulder so his lips are right beside your ear. He doesn’t really like to repeat himself, but being so responsive to him, he will let you do it once. “How long has it been since someone touched you?” With his question, his fingers travel down, right to your hole.
His breaths hit the sensitive skin of your neck and you have to swallow back a moan when his pointer finger just barely dips inside of you. “Long.” You confess in a whisper.
He smacks his lips, pressing them against your neck so you feel every word that comes from his mouth. “You poor thing, such a pity, but don’t worry—“ He is looking at you again, hand leaving you, making you whine a little and he can’t help but smirk a little. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before.”
With his promise, his hands find the back of your thighs, before he lifts you off your feet. You yelp from how smoothly he does it, pulling you up into his arms and you have no choice, but to wrap your legs around his waist. You are shocked by his strength, not used to being picked up so easily, staring at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t look away from you, even if he walks with you to your couch, not even when he lays you down on it. You feel special in this moment, drowning in the thought of him wanting you, but still his nature is not forgotten. He is made like this, he lives from the pleasure of the other.
Your head falls on the armrest, looking up at him looming over your body. He is already consuming you with his eyes alone and it feels delicious, but it sends a small sense of danger. His eyes flash red under the soft light, body clad in dark clothing perfectly contrasting with yours. Your hands are still in the air, fingers just barely grazing over his broad shoulder, but he soon leans closer to you, letting you hug him again. You feel small, vulnerable and weak, but you don’t want him to know he was right about you liking this. But, oh, trust me that he knows…
His hands grip the fabric of the couch, coming closer to you, placing his lower body right between your parted legs. Your hands seem to push him away from how bashful you have become and he surprises by not entirely rushing you. His head falls next to your neck again, slowly trailing his lips over the skin. Your breathing is formed into short gasps at his wet, soft kisses, eyes falling shut for a moment to savor the feeling. He can smell your perfume, sweat and even blood and it makes him groan quietly, kisses turning rougher, just to get closer to you. “Is this it? Is this all that you want?” You say, shivering still from his own sound.
His lips still for a second, but he doesn’t move away. “Is this what you want?” He now asks you.
You know, you don’t have to think much about your answer, but you still pause for a second. Your fingers twitch on his shoulders, legs closing around his and is it even necessary to give him an answer? The only thing you do is pull is head back down your neck, rolling your head back to give him more room, you are too embarrassed to say it out loud. He lets you, he is letting you have your way a little too much he thinks, but he can’t refuse the offer of your delicious neck.
His tongue licks a long stripe up your pulse, making you moan loudly when he starts to suck all over your neck. His bunny teeth nip lightly at your skin, fighting the argue to just bite down. He feels your nails digging into him, while he moans with you, enjoying just the taste of your skin like this. However the strong scent of your arousal is playing with his head, growling at the thought of eating your cunt. He can picture your face of ecstasy and shock all together. He would suck you all up, fuck you with his tongue and you coating his face in your pleasure.
You are shaking at how rough he nibs and sucks at your neck, the small fear of his sharp teeth piercing your quickly forming into pleasure. But before you can feel it, he releases himself from your neck to slide all the way down on the ground to kneel before you. His sharp movements always leave you in disbelief, your senses not quick enough to keep up with him. You pull yourself up to your elbows, watching him put his hands on your thighs, making your skirt pool at your waist.
Your legs are already trembling, knowing your pussy is left uncovered by his touches, but his attention is still fully on you. “White looks good on you, you almost make me feel bad that I will ruin it—“ The ‘you’ is silent, but the smirk is just a small reminder of what he is capable of.
When his eyes fall down to your cunt, he can’t help, but groan. He maybe is the one living of pleasure of the other, but what he is about to do to you is mostly for him. He doesn’t waste any time, he is inpatient and you as well as he can see from your fluttering hole. He doesn’t trail kisses over your thighs, nothing soft, nothing that you don’t want and when he pulls on your underwear, tearing the fabric he is sure that this is what you really want. It stings a little, the fabric snapping against you, before it is thrown away. His head fall between your legs so quickly your hips jump, clit hitting his nose and hard. Though even if you wanted to apologize, he didn’t seem to mind it at all, only letting his mouth fall open to suck at your folds.
“Oh…” Comes out of you, hand flying over your mouth from the feeling of his blazing, hot tongue running all over you. He spits and drools, saliva mixing with your slick and pooling right under your ass. Your hips keep jumping from the sheer and sharp pleasure. Your clit burns as it is caught between his lips. You are shocked by how quickly you feel yourself on the edge.
His head tilts back, releasing your bundle of nerves with a pop to run his tongue over your labia. Your clit twitches in need, mewing, just as he opens his eyes to stare right back at you. You can’t look away from him, from his red irises, his mouth wide open to catch every drop you give him. The pleasure and pain from his grip on your thighs forms into something else — something you haven’t felt before. You didn’t even know that just by someone going over your lips with their tongue felt so good. You swear you have never been this sensitive and he looks like that he knows exactly how to push you. He doesn’t need any guiding, nothing — he is a true man.
You can’t stop your sounds, the pleasure so good, you think you need to run away from it just to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you, his one hand pressing down against your lower stomach, preventing you from trashing around as his other goes to your hole. When his two fingers breaches you, a silent scream leaves you, your own hand flying to his to stop him, but you are already falling apart. Heat, waves of nonstop pleasure wash over you and your ears ring. Your mouth becomes dry, whimpers turning into cries, because you are sure you are going mad. You didn’t want it to end so soon, you wanted him to stop, to feel more.
Your whole body shakes wildly, the skin of your thighs jiggling around his head. You try to catch your breath while your orgasm is still washing over you, siting up to grasp at his hand. Your mouth is open, eyes now filled with tears, pleading and he watches you in your full glory. “I’m not stopping.” He says, words you so desperately needed to hear vibrating against you, fingers scissoring in you.
You immediately fall back down in relief and you can feel his crazed smile against you. The orgasm is none stopping. You don’t know if it’s because he isn’t stopping or if it was just him, but it is a out of body experience. Your hands press against your eyes, moaning wildly as his fingers pick up speed, tongue not stopping to move your clit up and down. He suck just perfectly, curl his fingers just right and doesn’t stop to take a breath nor to change position — he knows what he is doing. You push your legs up to your chest slightly, wrapping them around his head and the sight is to die for.
His eyebrows are furrowed, hand on your stomach searching for yours to put it in his hair. You instantly run your fingers through his soft hair, before tugging roughly and the deep growl that seems to make the whole room shake, sends you over the edge again. It is stronger, more burning and even painful and he eat it right up. You go silent again, eyes rolling into the back of your head and you pull his head with you also. You do hear him release himself from your messy, puffy cunt, just to watch you fall apart again. You don’t need him to help you ride out your orgasm, it was too good to not let it take over your whole being again.
The taste of you is on his tastebuds, licking at his lips hungrily, before crawling over your body. Your skin is hotter, almost like his and his cock pushes painfully against his pants at your drunk state. You looked beautiful…he needs to have you now. His hand moves your hair away from your sweaty face, making you finally open your blurry eyes. “Kiss me.” You say, hands pulling at the hairs on the back of his neck.
You haven’t seen much emotion on his face before, but this felt unnatural. It was just a split second, but you saw it — disappointment. “I can’t.” He says, shaking his head. His eyes held longing, but he makes you forget about this whole moment by kissing you on your collarbone.
You sigh, pressing your chest closer to him, just as he begins to trail down the valley of your breasts. “Can I at least have your name?” His lips wrap around the soft skin of your breast, sucking it in his mouth.
You hiss, pushing at his head. He sucked a little too hard, maybe telling you something by his action, but before you can question it he glances at you back again. “Minho.” He tells you his name, looking into your eyes as you repeat it softly back. You stare at each other for a moment, you moving around a little and just by it you graze over his bulge. Your leg stops in middle of his legs, gaze still unmoving, even if you press your thigh against him. It makes him hiss and you gasp a the sheer size of it. You can see your own desire reflecting in his eyes and he just couldn’t wait anymore.
His hands fly over to his belt, watching you watching his hands as he works to unbuckle his pants. You are holding your breath as he stands up to push down his pants. Your legs immediately press back together as you finally see him. Your lips parted, drooling almost at the size of his cock. Thick, long, veiny, a little curved just to hit those spots deep inside of you with an angry red mushroom tip covered in cum. You are breathing heavier from just the thought of him splitting you open and ruining you for everyone after him.
Minho is breathing through his nose to take in the smell of your emotions, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and when you sit up, pulling down your skirt, he marvels over the sight of your body covered just in corset and stockings. You looked heavenly funnily enough. When he pushes his shirt from his shoulders you sigh at his muscular body — he was simply perfect. “Turn around.” He demands, voice so low you almost do a double take and when you don’t do immediately as he says, he just does it for you.
He moves you down the couch, turning your body around so your face is pressed into the cushion. Your ass raises in instinct and it grates you a smack across your right cheek. You cry into the couch, the soft skin rippling under his eyes. Then it’s his cock, slapping against you, before laying it flat between your asscheeks. “Fuck, look at that, I’m gonna split this little pussy apart.” You moan back at him, already hazy from just him humping against you teasingly. “Think you can handle it? Oh, you will, all of it—“ He is basically talking to himself right now, already drunk on you.
You are a little concerned, you have never taken something so big, but the thought of him not fucking you dumb is making you whimper like a bitch in heat. You don’t even recognize yourself. You press your ass back at him and Minho only slaps you again, but he finally at that guides his cock to your entrance. The sight of his precum mixing with yours is sending him over the edge, not believing that you are letting him fuck you raw, even if he sees it in the back of your mind. It makes him pull your head back roughly, wanting to watch you crumble on his cock.
You watch him from the corner of your eye, seeing the wild look in his eyes, pretty lips forming into ‘O’ as he finally pushes his tip inside of you. Just that is already too much, but you subconsciously push your hips back at him, swallowing another inch. He lets you adjust, because the way he will fuck you — you will need it. With only hallway through you already feel full to the brim, him already pressing against your cervix, but he is determined to fit all in. He knows you can do it and just after few moments, your ass is finally perfectly flush with his pubic bone.
Your walls suck him right in, wet, warm and soft. He wonders if he is the one being enchanted right now. His hand trails over the string of your garter belt again, loving the way it digs into your ass from how much you arch for him. Minho leans over you again, making him press into you even deeper and he sharply exhale at his tip basically breaks your cervix. “Feel that?” His hand falls down to press at the bulge on your lower tummy. “I’m in your fucking stomach that’s how fucking deep I am—“
“M-Minho—“ He enjoys his name falling from your mouth so much that he accidentally pushes a little too hard against your stomach. To his surprise you only moan louder, hips pushing against him. An open wide smile stretches across his face, watching you move your ass against him.
Your movements are put into stop rather quickly as he pulls out, before pushing into you again with a deep, long thrust. Your mouth is wide open, drooling on the couch already. You feel an abnormal tingling sensation, with his every move of his and with everything that happened that led to this moment it felt worth it. Your pussy molds into a form of his cock, making him smoothly pick up his pace. His one leg on the couch and the other on the ground gives him leverage and with the first sharp thrust of his, you both moan, the sound perfectly mixing with the wet slaps of your skins.
It’s not soft or loving, it’s hard. cock pushing with every move even deeper into you if it’s possible. You are too far gone to do anything other than to take him, your own hand pressing against the bulge in your stomach. It’s sickening how much you enjoy feeling his cock run into you under your hand. Minho has to hiss with every trust in your swollen cunt, hands pinching at your ass and pulling at the strings digging into you. “So g-good— ah!” Your face buries back into the couch, when he snaps at the string, skin burning.
Minho is literally going mad, thrust so harsh, that the couch rocks a little under you both. You can’t believe how much you enjoy feeling pain mixed with pleasure just like he enjoys doing it. The sight of your ass bouncing, hands tearing the material under you and mostly your sounds — he knows that he has to have you someday again. His hand pulls at your hair again, not even missing a beat as he pulls you to his chest. You can’t hold yourself on your own and he helps you rather kindly, with his hand on your neck again, but now he is not being gentle. “Fucking look at you—“ He laughs at your fucked out face staring up at him and he knows he is not looking any better. “Ever thought you would enjoy a demon cock this much?” You choke around the hand on your throat, legs shaking under you. He needs to see more of you, all of you. So he quickly pull out of you, not missing a beat and turning you around to lay you on your back again. You can’t even grumble, because he is inside you back again and the view you have is better than you could’ve asked for.
You don’t say anything, when he rips through the front of your corset, tits spilling out and bouncing immediately with his none stop movements. He spits down right at your nipple, making you gasp at how sensitive it is, feeling his thumb smear the liquid all over you, marking you. Your own hands dig into his hard chest, droopy eyes catching his, before he goes down to your neck, now biting roughly. It makes you arch your back, his sharp teeth piercing you and it doesn’t even hurt half as much as you thought it would.
Moaning, Minho licks at the small drops of blood, eyes rolling back into his head at your sweet taste. Everything about you was so fucking sweet, he can’t believe his own luck right now. Your nipples catch on his, letting you hug him close to you and with the trembling in your legs, he knows you are nearing your orgasm again. “I-I am close—“ You can’t even voice out your words with his rapid moves, feeling yourself drip down on the couch. Your clit rubs deliciously over his pubic bone and with you walls spasming you can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s getting close too. You just need so desperately something to get you over the edge, something that would make this experience even better and soon those words are spilling out of you. “P-please….kiss me.” You whimper in his ear.
Minho pulls away from your neck, seeing small smear of your blood on those plump lips. “I-I can’t.” He repeats the same words to you and you can’t help, but cry.
“Why?”
“It will tie us together, a kiss will ties us together and you will have to be mine forever.”
He is loosing himself, never he had thought about kissing someone, but yours lips — so perfectly bitten and definitely sweet as every part of you are calling his name. You hear his words, you realize what he is saying, but why would any of you want to end this so soon?
“I want it, I truly want it, Minho—“ Your hands press against each side of his flushed face, his eyes wide, going between your eyes and lips, before he finally leans in.
The whole room around you seems to be set on fire around you, tongues tangling around each other. You taste yourself on his lips and mostly him. You are moaning into him, biting down on his lip, like he did to your neck and he groans lowly when your own teeth breach his skin, mixing your blood now with his. “I’m yours—“ You mumble between kisses, just as you fall apart on him, squeezing him. Minho can’t help, but smile into the kiss, hips stilling as his cock swells, twitching inside of you. He fills with his warm cum, not stopping at kissing you. He will be here every day and every night like this for you and for himself, for eternity, because he found something more pleasure than anything else he ever knew.
And that was you.
#lee know x reader#lee know#lee know smut#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#lee minho x y/n#lee minho smut#bangchan x reader#changbin x reader#felix x reader#han jisung x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#i.n x reader#seungmin x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz smut
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WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?
❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ
𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill
☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<
JING YUAN 𐚁 景元
[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos
⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver
⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him
⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)
⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space
⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.
⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡
BLADE 𐚁 刃
[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos
⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one
⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)
⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.
⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?
⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall
DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生
[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos
⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes
⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)
⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.
⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)
⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts
⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural
⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all
RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅
[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos
⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular
⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her
⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match
⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for
⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.
yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.
AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金
[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos
⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:
“how do you even manage to find anything?”
“luck.”
⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you
⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved
⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno
⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).
⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.
SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日
[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos
⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.
⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later
⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath
⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.
⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).
BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧
[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos
⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device
⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess
⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.
⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)
⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;
“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”
unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.
⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his
© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost
#id be willing to shove a fork in him if it meant getting an electric current directly from him 😍😍#cue boothill and me kissing while mumbling but we’re both boys🥺🥺#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr x gn!reader#hsr x gn reader#honkai x reader#jing yuan x reader#blade x reader#dr ratio x reader#ratio x reader#veritas x reader#ruan mei x reader#aventurine x reader#sunday x reader#boothill x reader
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it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
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yes, and? | max verstappen
summary: max’s impossible crush finally notice him, but he’s stuck in a pr relationship
fc: simone ashley
a/n: so i try something a bit different with this one and made it on the longer side (if you’ve listened to ariana’s song you know this is gonna be messy for sure) (also, simone ashley??? or the prettiest woman ever??? i’m obsessed with her)
—
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 life off track
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username i screamed cried and fainted
username second pic should be illegal
megan.galanis 🥰
username not the pr girlfriend 🙄
username omg let them live!
username they’re dating, get over it
username the third pic pls he’s so POOKIE
username number 1 stan of max’s thighs
username thirsting on main???
username PLS because how can you not ??
liked by maxverstappen1, bffusername and others
ynusername bridgerton press tour at it’s finest 💍
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username MOTHER
username you’re the prettiest woman alive😩
username yn just one chance please !
bffusername slayyyy
yourusername 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
jbayleaf viscountess activities😎
yourusername 🐝🐝🐝
username im in love with a woman i’ve never met
tiktok comments
username never took max for a bridgerton guy???
username not complaining tho
username max in his regency romance era🤭
username now i get why he’s always in y/n’s likes like damn i too would be obsessed after watching her on that show
ynusername thank you! <3
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ynusername it’s the monaco grand prix! i never miss the grand prix🏁
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username yn and f1 my two passions❤️
username the way yn always serves cunt MUST be studied
bffusername is it? who’s playing?
username ohhh the reference i love them!
username gorgeous! 😍
username i’m in awe
maxverstappen1 🤣
liked by schecoperez, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 P1 in Monaco🏆🇲🇨
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username the icon, the legend, the moment
username max verstappen, the only man ever🫶🏽
charles_leclerc nice one mate, congrats! 👊🏽
username no megan appearance, no like, no comment… are we out of the woods?
username oh wow, she didn’t go to 1 race, they obviously must have broken up 🙄
username no but seriously, did her contract ended or something?
username girl why are you so obsessed with their relationship? just leave them alone srsly
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f1gossippofficial max verstappen has been seen lately on multiple dates with actress y/n y/l/n around monaco
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username he’s been seen on WHAT
username with WHOM
username but… what about megan…
username what about her?
username never thought of y/n as a homewrecker
username never thought of max as a CHEATER!
username im not mad about this pairing tbh🤔
username megan liking this post and unliking it???
username and y/n’s best friend liking it also
username she’s so unserious
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ynusername moments📷
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username bestie who took the pics?👀
username don’t be shy you can tell us🤭
username THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS
bffusername the most beautiful and pretty and talented and funny and smart and
ynusername i’ll marry you rn😩
username after those pics with max i can’t see her the same
username HOMEWRECKER
username haters gonna hate fr y/n i love you if you see this! 💕
maxverstappen1 🥰 (liked by ynusername)
username oh that’s not…
username this is so wrong in so many levels😭
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maxverstappen1 another successful weekend for the team, hopefully many more to come! 🇨🇦
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username “hopefully many more to come” as if we don’t know he’s gonna win all the races already
username being a red bull fan is sooo easy and fun i love it here
username i miss seeing megan in the paddock :(
username jesus christ who understands you, when she was there you hated on her and when she isn’t you miss her
username also, she just missed two races, like😭
username let’s goooo super max
redbullracing many more to come👊🏽
ynusername 🏎🏎 (liked by maxverstappen1)
username she really has no shame huh?
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ynusername yes, and?
tagged maxverstappen1
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username this was the last thing i expected when i open instagram
username pls the caption😭
username she’s NOT a serious person and i love her for it
username welcome back ariana grande😍
landonorris and my credits for the last picture?
ynusername props to you🙄
username hottest couple imo
username this post single handedly convinced me to watch her show
username it’s so good honestly!!
username yesss y/n and max bringing back messy celebrity couples we love to see it!
maxverstappen1 my one and only girlfriend you’re everything❤️
ynusername you’re too much love!💘
username not the “one and only girlfriend” !!
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#f1 x reader#f1#formula one#formula one x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#simone ashley#mv1#smau#max verstappen smau#f1 smau#formula 1 smau#social media au#mv33#ariana grande
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| show a little loving
• pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader
• summary: drunk paige being clingy (that one ice live iykyk)
• warnings: alcohol use
• bc drunk paige is so cute and clingy 😭
Paige was walking around the bar holding Ice’s phone that was live on TikTok. She was going around showing different people until she got to you. She wrapped her right arm around your neck and shoved the phone in your face. “We got the best player in the nation right here!” she smiled, as she shoved her way into the camera’s view too, by resting her chin on your shoulder.
“Oh hi guys!” you smiled, looking up from your phone and into the camera. You moved your face a little bit closer so you could see the comments coming in, most of them talking about Paige’s looks or saying hi back to you. “Guys we have to be up at 8 am tomorrow!” you complained, letting out a sigh as Paige wrapped her arm more your neck to pull you closer to her.
And then the song Draco by Future started playing through the speakers loudly and you could see the blondes face light up as she started singing the lyrics loudly. You let out a small laugh before joining her in on her horrible singing.
She then sat Ice’s phone down on your drink before pulling her own phone out and going to SnapChat to record the both of you singing the song. As you two sang, Paige started to nuzzle her head into your neck, seemingly forgetting that it wasn’t only her phone that was out, but also Ice’s that had a little over a hundred viewers on it.
“Ok P, that’s enough live for you,” you laughed as you grabbed Ice’s phone and handed it back over to the girl. And with that Paige took the opportunity to wrap both of her arms safety around you, pulling your back to her chest as she rested her chin on top of your head. “You’re gonna regret drinking in the morning,” you told her, shaking your head softly.
“I’ll be fine,” she brushed it off, but you knew Paige very well, that she would in-fact, not be fine in the morning.
“It’s your funeral,” you responded, sipping on your Shirley Temple.
“Ooo, let me try,” Paige stuck out her hand to grab your drink, which you quickly moved out of her reach. “Nuh-uh. You need water,” you turned around in the barstool to look up at her.
“Ion want water!” she complained, dragging out the end of her sentence, sounding like a little kid.
“Paige,” your voice was stern as you looked up at her. Her blue eyes glazed due to the alcohol in her system, her hair messy from her dancing around stupidly with KK, and the way her hands had never left your body, even though you were turned facing her.
Paige was always a touchy person, constantly giving hugs and always brushing her hand against yours, but when she was drunk it was something different.
A something different that had your heart beater faster, that it was noticeable to yourself. The way she couldn’t be away from you for more than two minutes at a time, and when she was around you she wouldn’t let you out of her sight.
And the way she had her hands resting on your thighs as she stood between your legs made it all the much harder to not just give in to her every want.
“Drink up,” you handed her your water, which she reluctantly drank. And once she was done you sat the water down on the table and then handed her the Dirty Shirley.
Her eyes instantly brightened as her lips went around the straw and she began sipping on the drink. “Ok don’t drink it all!” you laughed, pulling it away from her mouth.
“So good though,” her words slurred slightly as she looked down at you sitting.
“How bout I go order you one then? Hm? How’s that sound?” you asked, standing up from your seat, her body now only inches away. She placed her hands on your lower back, as your hand came up to wrap around her neck.
“Sounds good,” she smiled, squeezing your waist gently before you walked over to the bar and got her one of her own.
What the two of you hadn’t realized is that Ice had caught the moment on camera. And it most definitely looked a little incriminating to the both of you. With Paige’s hand naturally resting so low on your back and your arm draped around her neck, to anyone it would appear the two of you are together. But, right now the two of you were blissfully unaware of it.
“One Dirty Shirley,” you announced to the girl as you handed her the drink, her arm falling right back to where they had been planted before.
“Thank you,” she smiled, taking a sip of the drink.
allies corner.
and if i told you i made this draft in may…
also maybe a part 2 where they find out that like ice caught them on live or something who knows
#wnba#wnba basketball#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#paige bueckers#uconn lives#paige bueckers angst#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers fluff
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