#uptown lovers

[uusercatt367]

Oh Army dreamers

———————————

Based on the spinning tea cup scene from uptown girls

I wanted to do it for a long time ( tried to make young Yui look like the most basic church girl I could think of lol )

[artsy-hobbitses]

So for all the TTB couples: who said I love you first?

.... Shit this about to get lengthy.

HoundxMirage: Mirage, mid-war while he’s tending to a Hound who’s becoming delirious from a badly-infected wound and a fever on the field and they have to wait for backup to come get them. Hound tells him to go after they somehow narrowly manage to escape a Decepticon patrol, he’s deadweight at this point, just leave him. Mirage tells him to stop being an idiot, and tries to keep Hound awake (Don't sleep, please don't sleep, you might not wake up, they're almost here) by talking about the first time they met and how this situation mirrors the time Hound braved Decepticon prison camps to find him after the Autobots faced of against the Cons for the first time to free their incarcerate comrades. And how shocked Mirage was to see him there, because Mirage wasn't expecting anyone to come. And Hound asks what he said then, and Mirage repeats his memory of the moment to Hound; That Mirage himself had told Hound to leave before they catch them both, he's just deadweight at this point, and Hound told him to stop being silly, he knows the Bots have their misgivings, but he trusts you, and he's not leaving a friend behind. And Mirage admits how trite that was, but how earnest and sincere Hound made it sound. How profound it was to have someone understand for once that his work requires him to wear masks, to put on airs, and Hound trusted him all the same for it. And how silly it felt in the moment to love Hound for something as mundane and simple as that. By that time, help finally gets to them and Mirage can breathe again, and he figures that Hound (who sleeps for several days recovering) might have forgotten about it, it's a silly notion, he must think the same. But when Hound properly wakes up, the first thing he asks Mirage, who's reading by his bedside, is if it was true. What Mirage had said about loving him. And Mirage is silent for a while, before deciding to throw away the mask of propriety, because Hound is one of the few who have seen him without it, and Hound has ALWAYS been open with him, and he won't give Hound any less than that deserved honesty. Yes, he loves you, he loved you in that fleeting moment, and he's loved you ever since, and he's tired of pretending what he feels is anything less than that... but he understands completely if you don't feel the same way. And Hound laughs weakly because he could never have imagined someone like Mirage--a gentleman, talented, and beautiful, but also braver than anyone gives him credit for and with a conviction to do good that so few have despite his privilege--could fall in love with him, some ex-military farm boy Wulver from Shetland, and he'd been content for the longest time to love Mirage in silence (Plants Mirage's favorite flowers/produce, always volunteers to model Mirage's new works, cares for Mirage's pets personally when Mirage is away on a mission, makes sure no one in his presence badmouths Mirage for literally doing what it is the Bot leadership enlisted him for in the first place). Hound's still a little loopy at this point, but asserts that since they're puttin' all cards on the table now, he loves you too, Merry, and god ain't they gonna be a sight at those fancy parties you're going to have to attend with a Plus One. Mirage laughs and kisses his forehead, and says that if they get kicked out, he'd see that as a plus point. He doesn't let go of Hound's hand as Hound drifts off again, and falls asleep next to him (Ratchet allows it for one night).

SideswipexStongarm: Sideswipe, during a sparring session of all things because OF COURSE THESE TWO WOULD. It would be while Sunny is still absent but after he and Strongarm have established that they Have Feelings for each other, but haven't said the words yet. Strongarm's recovering from an injury and needs the practice because she feels useless and is about get cabin fever and claw at the drywall if she's passed over for field work again. Sideswipe calls her stubborn, she's be like "hell yeah where'd you think THAT rubbed off from, Red?" and he's like "lol touche" and goes with it. He trounces her at every turn though, cause he's got his mojo back and has, with his house arrest, had time to learn a couple of new things, but she's unfocused and frustrated and it's actually clear that he's not giving it is 100% and is careful to avoid aggravating her still-healing injuries. When the slip-up seemingly happens and he immediately drops everything to check on her, she takes the chance to take him down and calls him out for falling for the oldest trick in the book as they're both lying on the floor, and he, without missing a beat says "yeah well, you know what they say about people doing stupid shit when they're in love." Record-screech, and a flat "what" from Strongarm as he repeats it again and she punches him in the arm because DUDE WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM and he just cackles because really, REALLY ?? HEY REMEMBER LIKE, THAT ONE TIME WE WERE ON THE BEACH AND YOU WERE LIKE "HEY YOU THINK I'D PUT ALL THIS GODDAMN EFFORT INTO THIS ZUPPA INGLESE FOR SOME CHUMP I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT", babe it's 3am and he could be in bed but no, he's here bruised and sweaty and prepping for a flying kidney dish from Ratchet when the doc finds out, and you really think he'd risk Ratchet's wrath for someone he didn't love? You really think you get to give him a reason to keep looking forward to another day and be the reason he doesn't feel like half a person anymore without him being stupidly twitterpatted over all 5'6 of you?

Strongarm's got her face in her hands --she'd self-immolate if she went any redder---and bemoans with a small laugh that he's got AWFUL timing---"I love you" in the middle of a sparring session ffs, where's the ROMANCE? THE ROSE PETALS AND CANDLE LIGHT? HARLEQUIN LIED TO HER. Sideswipe's howling at the revelation that YOU USED TO READ THAT STUFF??? but he's got a gleam in his eyes as he turns over so he's half on top of her and offers to say it again, under the right circumstances this time. She turns the tables on him again, gives him the kind of kiss that has him as flushed and gasping for air as she is, and tells him she still can't believe he's got her this messed up over him, but they've also still got three hours before dawn, so they should definitely take his little redo somewhere more y'know, comfortable (Let's just say they find a more pleasurable way to burn off her excess energy).

WindbladexStarscream: The question isn’t who said “I love you” first, it’s how many times these morons decided to say it post-war in their native languages thinking they were being slick before one of them (Windblade) eventually decides to let the game end and explain that hey, listen, you know she’s picked up plenty of Italian since you moved in with her right? And you’re at 499 “Ti Amos” right now so how about you make number 500 special and tell her to her face right now how you really feel? And he’s cackling because he’s Still Starscream and HAH 499! HE PEGGED YOU AT 495 AISHITERUS HE WINS THIS ROUND until Windblade nearly pisses herself laughing (“YOU WERE KEEPING TRACK?!” “YOU WERE KEEPING TRACK?!!”) and shuts him up with a kiss and is all OH MY GOD YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE NEVER CHANGE BUT JUST SAY THE WORDS ALREADY and he does! In English that is! And repeats it three more times interspaced with kisses, because he doesn’t want her to forget this moment. And he thinks he's got her, being suave and heartfelt about it and all, until she asks him, apropos of nothing, if he wants to see the prize he won for those 500 "I love yous" and he's a blustery, squawking mess when she pulls out an engagement ring. By now they've become domestically comfortable friends with benefits, but a part of him still thinks she sees him just as that---a fun fling of a best friend. This is wonderful and all, but she couldn't POSSIBLY want like, an actual married life with him right? The FIRST DELEGATE HERSELF officially, PUBLICLY attached to a feral ex-con gremlin with a rep sheet? And Windblade is all are you kidding? Yes, she ABSOLUTELY wants the world to know that you're hers and there's nothing any of them can do about it, not any more. So how about you stay, and find out if we can reach the 1 million ILY mark together? Starscream can't say no---he has stake in the game now oh man, he wants to see which one of them can get there first, he wants to be there for every milestone, and he concedes that she's won this one. She's won this one, and he's genuinely never been happier that she got him good.

RavagexLaserbeak: Ravage, near end-war when they were caught in Shockwave’s Positive Reinforcement prison and were fed visions of an alternate universe type situation where they’re Completely Normal (Full Human), and Laserbeak is far more entranced with the elaborate illusion of freedom and acceptance than he is (as she looks more ‘monstrous’ /non-human than he does—and cannot pass in society). She finds it very hard to leave this simulation and he hears her insecurities front and centre now, the ones she always hides behind a cheerfully nihilistic grin of “I’m cool! It doesn’t bother me at all!” (Narrator voice: It bothered her deeply), while she’s kind of a snotty mess after she interacts with some of simulated humans/children who don’t sneer at her, don’t pull away from her touch, don’t look at her like she’s a freak because she KNOWS it’s not real she knows it’s too good to be real she knows but is it really so bad to want this for herself? For them? And Ravage tells her that some days when things get really hard out there, it’s that he wants this for her that he continues to fight on. Because he loves her, in a fleeting and dehumanising world where every mission could be theirs last and they were all they had for years; he’s always loved her, and she deserves a world like this, a real world like this, and it’s going to be hard but they’ll get there together. And it snaps her out of it. Because it’s so hard and it’s UNFAIR and CRUEL that they should HAVE to fight so hard to just be seen as worthy of personhood… but Soundwave fights for them, and Ravage fights for her, and to give that real love up for something fake and easy is something she won’t do. Ravage loves her, and she will fight to love him AND herself in an imperfect, but real world, through heartache and joy both.

Dratchet: Drift. Drift already knows he definitely sees Ratchet more than a friend, and Ratchet himself is struggling with that revelation for himself, but they try to keep it professional up until near to the end of the war, when Unicron becomes a massive threat and Drift is picked by by Onyx Prime to become their champion/conduit. Now, Drift can see spirits, and lives with a one-foot-in-the-living one-foot-in-the-grave mentality ever since he survived a neath-death experience which gave him that ability, and Onyx choosing to momentarily fuse with him gives him Psychopomp abilities that allow him to 'dance between the curtain' of life and death. However, this is all very unsettling for Ratchet, who's always 'fought death' as a doctor, and he's gets upset when he tries to touch Drift before Drift goes off for a mission to rally the souls of Sentinel Prime's dead men, and his hands go right through Drift. And he hates this. He hates that Drift is like a ghost now, that they're not on the same plane. He hates that he can't help Drift if something happens there, that Drift is going where he can't follow. And he doesn't want to lose Drift for a third time. But Drift tells Ratchet that there won't be a third time, because he's been dancing with Death his entire life so much so that he might as well be the embodiment of it---all the close calls, all the lives he took, all the souls he's attempted to help find peace in atonement---but every time he steps too close to the edge of the abyss, it's always been Ratchet who'd given him back his will to live and who'd shown him the value of a life when he'd become almost desensitized to it. And he'll do just that. Live. Death's call for him to take that final step and wear its mantle may be strong, but he'll fight to live and fight to come back to you because he loves you, Ronan Chase--the literal embodiment of Life and what it means to fight for it, in his eyes--and Death can wait a little longer, because his last dance will be with you. He manages to focus and phase himself back whole so he can kiss the knuckles of Ratchet's hands--these hands which saved him more times than he can count--before Ratchet pulls him in for a proper kiss and holds him to his word, because we have a lot to talk about, so come home to him when you're done.

[thed011iest0ffthemall]

[casismymrdarcy]

Somehow both "Downtown" and "Uptown Funk" songs exist in the same year.

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

...fake dating, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers/she fell first he fell harder, Cinderella story, Uptown girl, second chance love, wedding crasher and partner in crime?”

I swear the author liked ALL the good romance tropes know to men and women, couldnt choose which one they wanted in the book and end up 'screw this, they have 8 kids now'

Violet Bridgerton be like “have you met my kids, fake dating, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers/she fell first he fell harder, Cinderella story, Uptown girl, second chance love, Gregory and Hyacinth?”

[jeepersdcph]

tag dump.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

where’s your doppelgänger? | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

you could never memorize the train system, no matter how many years you’ve taken it. you’ll be stuck staring at the maps for twenty minutes and not remember which way leads uptown. but when you’re with spencer you could be blissfully tugged along as he seamlessly weaves through the crowds of commuters, making sure you’re tucked close to his back.

“so we’re gonna take the red line up to jefferson street then the green line all the way to apple road.” both of you stood near the back of the platform, watching strangers scurry like ants to and fro this afternoon.

“that guy reminds me of hotch,” leaning in close to spencer’s side as you pointed a subtle finger towards the well dressed man. his dark hair was nearly combed, his navy blue suit was well pressed and his posture was stick straight while he held a book in one hand.

“could be his doppelgänger. statistically everyone should have one to three look a likes. your eyes see the person you know but also identify the new traits that form the other face, helping you separate the two.” his mouth spewing out these facts easily from his lips as you gazed his profile.

an unclear intercom announced something just as your first train pulled into its platform. spencer lead both of you to a pair of forward facing seats, you beside the window and him next to the walkway. “should take twenty minutes if uninterrupted,” spencer estimated.

the first few minutes neither spoke, just let the noisy tracks sing their song. “what do you think your other selves are doing?” shoulders bumping into each other with the swaying of the cart.

spencer’s thumb rubbed along your knuckles as your joined digits sat atop his thigh. “maybe one got to fulfill my childhood dream.” his low voice got particularly swallowed from a loud screech. you leaned in a bit closer and raised your voice to ask, “which is?”

spencer ducked his chin to his chest as he mumbled and you had to ask for him to repeat it. “a- a cowboy,” his eyes partially catching yours.

you couldn’t help the coo that slipped free, “now that would be a sight.” softly giggling at the pastel hue warming spencer’s cheeks. that caused spencer to chuckle sheepishly, “yeah. don’t think i’d be hired.” nervously he scratched behind his ear.

you let your eyes trail over his pointed features, “loved to see you in a hat though. bet you’ll look ever dashing.” freely flirting and enjoying the flushed pink on his apples under the fluorescent lights.

“what about your second one?” nudging his knee to redirect the conversation. spencer hummed in thought, the wheels filled most of the noise along with someone sneezing and a baby giving a small whine. “maybe a professor, like my mom. but i think my intelligence with all my doppelgänger’s would be lower than mine.”

“pure perfection as your mother would say.” giving a squeeze to his hand as your bodies moved with the stopping train. spencer lead both of you out and towards the second train, “got about five minutes before it arrives.” he lead both of you to a bench.

“i kinda wish one of my doppelgängers is living somewhere peacefully in europe. always a small dream of mine that i don’t know when i’ll ever peruse.” letting your mouth speak your thoughts openly. you leaned your head against spencer shoulder, a dreamy gaze filtering over the well maintained but still slightly dirty subway.

“i think one of yours would be a florist. probably somewhere in italy where many people visit you.” spencer spoke softly as he gave your joined hands a slight sway. both of you just tucked away into shadow as you wait.

“lovers would buy bouquets and friends would buy singles. family’s would buy many vases and i would wonder if it’s for something happy or somber. i’ll get to see small glimpses of people’s lives or make my own story for them.” creating this alternative world that you personally could live, or someone similar to you is living life in the present.

“another one could possibly be a journalist, or you’ll still be a liaison, just in a different department. you’re very good at dealing with the press, talking with people sincerely. you’d always make sure the pure truth was told and- what?”

spencer stopped talking as his eyes locked with yours, his brows scrunching at the front. “did- did i say something?”

you could feel your lips stretching into a lovesick smile as you stared at your boyfriend. “i- i just really wanna kiss you, but we’re in public and i know how you feel about pda-“

“i’ll allow it this time.” “…wait, really?”

spencer smiled shyly, “yeah. besides i know you’re not gonna jump me here. a kiss isn’t bad.” he just shrugged as his eyes bounced around.

with your free left hand your palm cupped spencer’s cheek to turn his face in your direction. “i love you a lot, like a crazy amount.” letting your thumb smooth the skin under his eye. you leaned in quickly to press your lips to spencer’s, staying for a moment then pulling away just as you hear the screeching of wheels on tracks.

“best get moving before they leave without us.” taking the lead on moving the two of you onto the chariot towards your museum date.

[ryescapades]

can i request narumi x gojo like reader (like extremely overpowered and yk gojo stuff 😝) because ur dazai fics are just mwah! could they be and captain and they're vc is like suguru :>

thank you !!!!

limitless | kaiju no. 8

characters: narumi gen x gn gojo!reader

contents: sniper!reader, attempt at humor, fluff, some OCs, a lot of made up plots bcs this fic wouldn't exist otherwise (feels like i was world building ngl), reader's division number is not mentioned, narumi appears like in the second half of this, hint of rivals(?) + idiots to lovers

a/n: i hope i did your req justice, tqsm nonnie! lmk if you're satisfied with this or not (bcs im kinda not) almost made reader and their vc become a doomed yaoi couple just like satosugu 2k wc

"ehhh, another mission?"

your vice-captain, akira rolls her eyes at your grumble. "yes, another mission, captain. the higher-ups have requested for us to be there as soon as we possibly can, for the location is said to be in an uptown city of tokyo, a few hours from our base, so we ought to dispatch early," she explains.

"blegh, i bet the old man shinomiya is laughing at me right about now. we literally just returned from a mission like two days ago, akira! he sure loves working us to the bone!" you complain as your hand continues to work, cleaning the glass lens of your sniper rifle's scope.

akira throws a flat look. "maybe because we're the only unit in the defense force that specializes in kaiju intelligence? dummy," she says pointedly, causing you to wave her off. "nah, semantics."

she sighs, shaking her head. "in any case, we need to get ready now. we have to be on the move in about half an hour," your vice-captain's words go into one ear and out the other as your mind drifts away, thinking of how you can possibly sneak away to buy some nice treats while in tokyo.

hm, preferably those ringo apple-custard pies... your mouth waters at the thought.

less than five hours later, you find yourself strutting in the hallways of the ariake base, with akira following close behind.

"how many times do i have to remind you to tell me first if you wanted to make a detour mid-way," akira pinches the bridge of her nose, and you pout slightly. "i didn't even take that long, mind you!" you argue, though the way you dust off the sweet pastry crumbs off your lips doesn't really give the impression that you sound apologetic at all about it.

"captain, you keep forgetting that we have a meeting to get to. you should try to be more considerate towards others' time, you know?" she chastises, making you shrug dismissively. "you're too uptight about everything, akira. loosen up,"

already used to your petty remarks, akira crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at you. "what was that? you wanna take this outside, y/n?" the way she drags the syllables of your name daringly has you smirking, eyes glinting dangerously as you flex your hands. "oh yeah? and what if i say yes?"

what both of you don't realize is that you've walked far enough to reach general shinomiya's office, the sound of the double doors opening snapping off the tense rope that connects your challenging gazes together.

the two of you straighten up awkwardly, whistling a mindless tune and fixing your uniform respectively to pretend like you weren't about to start a scuffle just a second ago.

hasegawa, the one who had opened the doors raises an eyebrow curiously when he sees you and your vice-captain. "seems like they're already here, general shinomiya." he announces over his shoulder before giving a respective nod and taking his leave.

as you enter the office, general shinomiya gives you a long, pointed look. "you're late." your nose scrunches at the comment, "only by fifteen minutes. chill out, old man."

"what they mean to say is—" akira immediately speaks up, frustrated at your lack of manners, but shinomiya isao raises a hand with a shake of his head to interject. "never mind that. we have more pressing matters at hand,"

as he drones on and on about the details of the mission, you're barely listening to any of them when one particular statement catches your attention.

"do your surveillance for at least two days before you clean up and come back to report. i'll send in narumi as well for some extra hands."

like a puppy hearing the sound of kibble food being poured in its bowl, your head perks up in interest.

seems like this mission won't end up being a bore, after all.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

"akira... i'm bored,"

you can almost hear your second-in-command's teeth gritting against each other. "that's the sixth time you've said that, captain." she says, her voice crackling through your earpiece. "wait, really? maybe i should say it another time—"

"please, don't." she interrupts with a huff. "you don't know how many nights i've spent wondering how your impatient ass got this job,"

you're about to counter when a new voice chimes in through the comms, "they're good at this job, that's why." a smile grows on your face at the statement. "ren, of course! this is why you're everyone's favorite," you cheekily say.

your operations leader snickers at the quiet but still audible vomiting noises akira is making. "i'm flattered, captain. but i do agree with vice-captain akira. given how our division is all about stealth and patience, it is quite the surprise someone like you sits at the top," ren muses.

you click your tongue, the small 'tch' sound only providing more amusement for your two subordinates. "you deserve a headlock for that, ren."

be that as it may, you are indeed good at your job. appointed as the captain of a special intelligence unit for the defense force, your division is tasked to undertake any job that requires kaiju surveillance, where you discreetly observe and study the behaviors of these monsters, especially the new species before subjugating them once your task is completed.

where do you think all those official kaiju encyclopedia books and websites get their information from?

your missions are all basically just field trips, to be frank. you command officers who are specifically trained in stealth and espionage, with your sharp sniping skills second to none in the defense force.

your beloved vice-captain, the talented officer that she is, unluckily holds the job of patrolling the perimeter and taking care of any kaiju that happens to stumble upon where your sniping port is set up. can't have the sniper getting jumped now, can we?

pulling your eyes away from the scope, you mindlessly tap away on the side of your sniper gun. "anyways, how's captain narumi doing?" you ask.

the division has very few recruits every year, due to the fact that not everyone can master the perfect form of stealth and spying when it comes to such untamed creatures. with the unit being the only unique one, your officers are often dispatched at various locations at the same time.

thus, the subjugation after the observation is usually carried out with the help of other divisions. and that's where narumi comes in.

or rather, he actually does come in. like, legit.

"worried about me?" the man himself steps into the empty room of the desolated building you're currently positioned at, his bayonet held close to his side. your brows quirk in amusement at the question, "yes, actually. i was worried your... extravagant method of killing kaiju is going to get us spotted sometime soon,"

narumi feels his blood thrums in his ears. he doesn't know what it is about you, but every time the two of you interact, he just gets frustrated and bothered. how are you so... infuriating?

"excuse me? i know perfectly well how you handle your operations, thank you very much!" he exclaims.

"oh? is that so, akira?" you inquire into your earpiece, wanting to poke fun at the first division captain further. he tenses slightly as he's reminded of his recent kills.

a big tease just as you are, akira hums, "well, i certainly heard him gloating with the other officers after his first kill earlier. he was probably doing his usual egosurfing after that... and the second kill was obscenely loud too. and then there's the—"

"okay, i think they get it now, vice-captain." narumi cuts her off in a snap, crimson hues dusting his cheeks. you smirk, about to make another retort when ren's voice intervenes you.

"emergency, captain! there's a kaiju about less than two kilometers away from the town!" your pupils flare in alarm just as akira voices out her surprise, "wait, what? there shouldn't be any of them so close to the human settlement. is it a stray?"

without focusing on ren and akira's discussion, you sling your sniper over your shoulder and head out of the building, "i'm going after it," you announce.

as you walk past narumi, he grabs your arm to stop you. electric sparks jolt underneath the material of your suits and into your skin, though neither of you seems bothered enough to acknowledge it. "there could be more than just that one. i'm coming with you," he insists, unaware that he's leaning into your space to get his point across.

what is it with him and needing to be closer to you? narumi can never figure out the answer to that even if he was aware of it in the first place.

you didn't expect him to suddenly be all up in your face like that, so your hand automatically shoots out towards him, a palm splaying over his chest to hold him back. realizing how weirdly intimate the touch is, you move to pull away but your hand unconsciously lingers, dragging itself down the metal chestplate of his suit before finally retreating in a matter of seconds.

the loss of contact nearly burns you from the inside out, and you hate admitting that it's not in a bad way. not at all, not ever. something about narumi gen just flares you up deliciously, and you're more than happy and willing to crash into this man's blazing inferno.

perhaps you're just as hopeless as he is in that regard.

with a shrug, you throw a sanguine grin at him over your shoulder, "even if you weren't here, narumi, i can handle them just fine. this is my forte, and i'm the strongest one here." shivers run down the back of his spine, the knowing glimmer in your eyes almost making him visibly and audibly swallow.

he doesn't doubt that sentiment. not at all.

narumi knows how strong and skilled you are. if ashiro mina is known with her extremely explosive power, you're known with your hawk's eye trait. you're good at predicting just exactly where the kaiju's core is supposed to be, courtesy of the years of meticulously studying the monsters.

'how am i different to ashiro? hm, let's see... to put it simply, ashiro is the type to spam her high-damaged gun. like a reaaally offensive dps, you see. while i prefer to go with that one shot one kill style,' you'd often say. as a chronic gamer himself, he understood that crystal clear.

as the two of you exit the building and make a beeline towards the direction of the town, a few kaiju that you had surveyed just a few minutes ago turn their heads in attention when they hear your rapid footsteps.

your annoyance rises when they start advancing towards you, all feral eyed and inhumane. "sorry but i really don't have time to waste on small fries like you," you mutter as you take out your handgun.

the next thing narumi knows, their cores are precisely struck with your bullets, including the kaiju whose humongous tail almost swiped at you two from your common blind spot, one which he could've taken out. with his RT-0001 retina, he was less than one second away from handling it!

"oh, would you look at that! i saved your ass, narumi! ain’t i just the best?" you boast, causing his imaginative feathers to ruffle. the respond he's about to give doesn't get to come out, as you manage to irritate him even more.

"by the way, don't you think you should slip in some more trainings everyday? you play enough games as it is. at this rate, you're gonna get weaker than me, you know?" you remark before swiftly skipping away, your tongue sticking out in jest and leaving narumi to deal with his own agitation.

you're literally a menace in narumi's eyes, but his curiosity is boundless. as he moves to follow after your tracks, he keeps asking himself why he just cannot seem to stop wanting to get know you more.

nah i'd win, *dies immediately after*

ps i love when gojo made that digimon ref in s2 he's such a nerd pls. also there's like one hidden ow2 ref in there somewhere. like using pharah and widowmaker in regards to the difference between ashiro and reader

taglist: @maruflix @iamjellyfish @ouiouimochi @yueliie @justwinginglife @lumiambrose @minasfwoopyponytail @17020

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[highvern]

Ateez in Different NSFW Careers

Pairing: ot8

Genre: smut, 21+

Warnings: lots of sex, masturbating, porn, domination/submission, fetishes, lmk if i missed anything egregious

Note: this is an idea for a miniseries but idk and thought id put it out there to see if people are interested (dont bring up the ateez mixtape series, im working on it!) thank you @wingsofimagery @yessa-vie for listening to this brain rot

read more here

Hongjoong:

onlyfans creator, solos of him masturbating or nudes. weirdly artistic? like camera angles on point, edited to perfection, color graded. rarely, if ever, collabs with others. occasionally posts erotic photography of one unidentifiable woman. his subscribers aren't sure what to make of it but pictures of them together are some of his best work. daylights as a photographer and has some of his work in small galleries across the city.

Seunghwa:

amatuer porn star, makes homemade couple porn or something with a close female friend. domestic/bf vibes in every video. v soft with each other even when they're having rough sex. people assume they're actually dating bc of the insane chemistry even though they never show their faces. its his fun dirty little secret no one in the office knows.

Yunho:

boyfriend for hire. specializes in "turn your brain off for the night, i'll handle it." rent him to be your date to an event or just for a night on the town. doesn't always sleep with his client (his discretion) but usually cuddles and will spend the night. just trying to pay off his student loans since being an analyst pays shit. big yunho bc he has a big... u kno? and loves hearing the women he sleeps with rave about it. has had several repeat customers and older women that recommend him to their friends.

Yeosang:

audio erotica. just aside hobby for him. tbh 9/10 times forgets to record or that he even has the account. started bc a girl he was seeing freshman year of college told him she wanted a video with the sound on and he didn't know what that meant but she liked his voice enough to let the completely black screen slide. posts sporadically but always makes waves when he does. people have offered him money for custom audios and he always turns them down.

San:

fetish model. shibari, leather, latex. you name it, he's most likely modeled it. has portrait of himself (unrecongnizable, facing away just his back criss crossed with ropes, hands bound at the base of his spine) hanging in his apartment. his friends think its weird since they know he's the one in the picture but most of the girls he brings home just think he's into some freaky stuff. started bc he would nude model for the art classes at his college when he needed fast money for weed. people assume he likes really kinky sex bc of his job but he prefers vanilla sex most of the time bc his job is so kink heavy. works as a fitness instructor as his 9-5, and had a few people recognize him but most are cool and leave him alone

Mingi:

nsfw twitter creator. videos, pictures, sliding into dms. mingi does it all and enjoys the comments of people thirsting over him even if he's one dick among thousands. for his day job he works in a sex store and flirts with the exotic dancers who come in to buy their costumes (turned down every single time, there's even a pool for how quickly he'll strike out). the one girl that flirted back still lives in his brain rent free bc all she did was smile and he folded like origami. now when she comes in mingi has to remind himself not to drool.

Wooyoung:

cam boy brat, sugars on the side. likes being degraded by his audience when he's bad. lover of milfs, and has a sugar mommy he sees once a month. loves being wined and dined by her and then loved on at her fancy apartment uptown. started doing both in college to pay rent, now works at a dance studio and keeps it up bc the extra cash is nice. enamored with taking pictures during sex. has a collection of polaroids with his current FWB that he cherishes more than anything (always carries one in his phone case). toyed with the idea of having her come on his streams but he doesn't want to share. he should probably look into that more.

Jongho:

dungeon dom (IDK), the kind thats a look don't touch dom. if you need a session to work through your stress, go to him. sexy spanking, punishment spanking, therapy spanking. he's got the knowledge and know how. has a strange collection of vintage dvds and magazines. rare stuff that he treats like art rather than smut. jongho i never want to speak on your name im sorry

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Can we be lovers and friends?

Wanda Maximoff x Avenger fem!reader.

A/N: Y’all this was hard to post, I kept reading it and reading it over again, not really liking it cause I’m paranoid??? Haha but decided to post because why not! Also coming up with titles is so hard!?!?! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff piece, I apologize for any mistakes! :)

Warnings: Talks about drunk people, unwanted contact (not in a heavy way, but still a warning.)

Translation: “Detka.” Baby.

Word count: 2,860.

Masterlist.

It was a typical Friday night, the Avengers were gathered at their favorite bar in uptown, decompressing after a rather hectic week when Natasha Romanoff approached a sullen looking Wanda Maximoff.

"Hey Witchy, what's got you all grumpy?" Natasha teasingly asks the younger woman who is currently sporting an angry pout as she glares across the bar at two figures in the distance.

"I'm not grumpy," Wanda retorts, never removing her eyes from you as she answers Natasha. Eyebrows furrowing more than before as a woman rests her hand on your arm, "it's just, who even is that with Y/N," she says, arms crossing on her chest.

Natasha let's out a small laugh at the sight of her increasingly pouty friend, "no clue Wands, but maybe this is a sign for you to get off your ass and finally ask Y/N out, or like you're seeing now, someone will definitely sweep her off her feet," the older woman says, as she places a comforting hand on the Sokavian's shoulder.

"W-what?" Wanda sputters slightly, finally tearing her eyes off of you turning to look at her friend so fast she's surprised she didn't get whiplash, "Nat, what are you even talking about? I don't like Y/N, that's insane!" The younger girl says nervously.

Natasha chuckles at the younger girl's expression, her voice softening as she speaks, "Wanda, it's clear to anyone that has eyes and half a brain that you love each other, it's just you two idiots that have failed to realize your true feelings for the other," she says, squeezing her shoulder with a smile.

"Wait, she likes me?" Wanda asks, eyes wide in shock.

At this, the older woman laughs, her hands coming to her face in exasperation, "yes you dork! She loves you just as much as you love her. My goodness, it's so sickening to see! I seriously don't know how either of you haven't noticed, I mean with all the longing stares, the soft smiles thrown at each other when you guys think no one is watching, the overall adoration. Truly and unbelievably sickening!" Natasha says with a playful smirk.

"I-" Wanda begins, cutting herself short as she looks at you, standing across the bar, polite smile on your lips as the woman that is in front of you continues talking, "I don't think she likes me like that Nat," Wanda whispers, eyes looking at you sadly.

Natasha frowns at her friend's expression, her own eyes flitting towards you, not understanding why the brunette still looks so upset after she just revealed that you feel the same way for each other, "Wanda, I can assure you, she definitely likes you," Natasha says with conviction.

The younger girl sighs, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but maybe you've got it all wrong," she says, eyes casting down as she can longer stand to see someone else flirt with you.

At this, Natasha blows out a breath of air then says, "god, I have to do everything," and begins making her way towards you.

Wanda's eyes widen in surprise, "Natasha, wait!" She yells, her hand reaching out to stop the redhead, but it's too late. The woman is already walking towards you with resolve.

As you're listening to the woman that approached you at the bar drone on about who knows what, you notice a figure making its way towards you and you let out a sigh of relief as you realize who it is, "Nat, hey," you say softly, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting out of this unwanted conversation.

"Y/N/N," she greets with a smile, "it's getting late, we should start making our way over to the compound," the redhead says, smile widening as she notices your eyes soften in appreciation at her interruption.

"Okay, should I help you regroup?" You ask, looking at your mentor with a smile.

"Yes, let's gather everyone up so we can go," Natasha says, her eyes then glancing to the woman that was speaking to you, "I'll be taking this one off your hands now, we need to be going."

The woman pouts, "why so soon? We were just starting to get to know each other well," she whines.

Your brows crease for a second, then an awkward smile takes over your face as you try to hold back an incredulous look, you definitely weren't getting to know each other. "I know, I know and I'm sorry, but I really must go," you mutter, trying to sound as apologetic as you possibly can without actually feeling any kind of remorse, slowly trying to shuffle towards your mentor.

The woman sighs, "it's okay cutie, I know you're a superhero and you need your rest, so go," she says, as she leans forward grabbing your face to place a kiss on your cheek, causing you to go as stiff as a board at the unwelcome contact, her lips lingering on you longer than you'd like.

"Uh, thanks?" You say with confusion as soon as she pulls back, Natasha blinking, slightly bewildered at the woman's audacity.

"Come on," the redhead says a second later, composing herself immediately, grabbing your hand to pull you away from the woman.

"What the fuck," you mutter, as you're dragged by Natasha. Reaching Wanda you look at her with your eyebrows furrowed, "did you see that?" You ask your best friend, grimacing as you wipe your cheek.

"Yes," Wanda responds sadly, but you don't get to dwell on her response as she quickly moves away from you and makes her way around the bar with Natasha to gather the other Avengers so you can all make your way home.

Once the team has been gathered by the trio, you three make it a priority to make sure you all make it back to the compound safely.

When you arrive home you help your teammates into their sleeping quarters. Making sure they're taken care of as good as possible, setting aspirin and glasses of water down by the bedsides of those who will inevitably have hangovers in the morning.

As soon as you finish making your rounds, you make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water and finally take a breather after the exhausting night you've had.

Granted you didn't drink or do much of anything at the bar like the rest of the team, but the social interaction of it all finally catches up with you, weighing you down.

As you stand in the kitchen, gripping the sink, head down in exhaustion, you hear steps make their way into the area causing you to stand up straight and look over your shoulder at the person walking into the space.

"Hey Max," you greet softly, as your eyes land on your best friend, "what are you still doing up?" You question, turning your body to face the woman.

Wanda smiles softly at the nickname, "I just came for a glass of water," she says, eyes observing your face, exhaustion written all over your features, "what about you? Are you doing okay?" She asks, a small frown of worry present on her face.

You lean against the kitchen sink, arms crossing on your chest, "I'm good," you smile tiredly, "although, as eventful as today was, I can't seem to fall asleep, so I thought taking a small breather and a glass of water would help," you chuckle.

Wanda nods in acknowledgment, as she makes her way through the kitchen, getting herself the glass of water she came for, standing across from you when she does, "yeah, I get what you mean," she says, taking a small sip of water, "today was something," she whispers, clearing her throat.

"You're telling me," you chuckle, shaking your head, "all I wanted was to hang out with you," you begin, missing the blush on Wanda's cheeks, "but I got bombarded at the bar and I just couldn't seem to get away. Like I know it comes with being an Avenger and all, but that woman would just not stop talking about herself and I couldn't find it in myself to politely pull away. Any time I tried, she would just put her hand on my arm and hold me there, it was truly uncomfortable," you rush out, looking at your best friend with a silly smile.

Wanda stares at you lovingly, then shakes her head after a minute, regaining composure, "wait, so you didn't like her?" She asks slowly.

You shake your head, "god no. I mean no offense to her, she was pretty I guess, but she's just not my type," you say with a casual shrug, "she was way too drunk. She kept talking about her ex the whole time, saying how dating an Avenger was for sure going to make him jealous. I didn't know how to tell her that I certainly did not want to date her. Thank god for Natasha, she came at the right moment to intervene," you smile.

Wanda lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and says, "but she kissed you," her eyebrows furrowed at the memory.

You shiver slightly and say, "yeah, she did. But it definitely wasn't welcome. I think she was too drunk to realize what she was doing," you grimace, and with Wanda's silence you decide you should bid her goodbye and head to your room, "anyway, it's late, we should get some sleep, goodnight Wands," you whisper, moving forward to hug your best friend.

As soon as she's in your arms, Wanda all but melts into the embrace, your towering frame causing her head to rest comfortably against your chest.

After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes Wanda pulls back slightly to look up at you, her green eyes shining with something you've never seen before and maybe it's the calm and the quiet, maybe it's your exhaustion, maybe it's the feelings you've pushed down one too many times. You're not quite sure what it is, but you lean down and press your lips softly against Wanda's, a sigh escaping her as your lips lightly brush.

Soon after your brain catches up with your body and you pull away immediately, "oh my god, shit Wanda, I am so sorry, I didn't-" you begin rambling, but your words are cut off by Wanda pulling your face down to hers to meet your lips in a passionate kiss, both of your feelings pouring into this long awaited moment.

As soon as lack of air becomes an issue, you both reluctantly pull away, "wow," you whisper, eyes closed, a dopey smile on your face that causes Wanda's heart to flutter and laughter to bubble out.

"Wow indeed," she whispers back, an enamored look in her eyes as she waits for yours to open.

Once you open your eyes, you look at your best friend in a whole new way, "wait, does this mean what I think it means?" You ask softly, wanting to confirm that your best friend does indeed feel the same way that you feel for her.

Wanda laughs softly, "if this is your way of asking me if I'm in love with you, then yes, that's exactly what it means," she says, lightly biting her lip, causing your eyes to cast downwards in distraction.

"I can't believe this," you say after a moment, "I was so afraid to admit that I love you in fear that you'd reject me and I'd ruin our friendship, but you love me?" You ask with a big grin.

Wanda's hands cup your face softly as she looks into your bright eyes, "yes detka, I'm in love with you," she beams, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks, "I think I have been for 2 years, but I guess I just admitted it to myself today after seeing that woman flirt with you, and maybe also with a little help from Nat," she mutters the last part shyly.

You let out a laugh at the sight of Wanda's reddened cheeks and pull her in by the waist, her arms automatically encircling your neck, "I love that woman, who knew she’d be such a matchmaker," you smile widely, "we should definitely thank her when we see her tomorrow," you say softly, as you lean your forehead on Wanda's, getting lost in a sea of green.

"No need," you hear a voice say from the shadows, and both you and Wanda pull away from each other to stand side by side. "I'm amazing, I know," Natasha says with a slight smirk as she walks into the kitchen. "Also I'm glad you two idiots have finally confessed your feelings for each other," she says as she stands in front of you and Wanda, "I'm happy for you both, you deserve this," Natasha smiles, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, "also Wanda don't hurt Y/N," your mentor tells the brunette seriously, maintaining eye contact for longer than you'd like as you see Wanda slightly begin to fidget.

"Okay Nat, I think she gets it," you cut in with a small, nervous chuckle. Reaching for the redhead's hand that's on your shoulder to squeeze and hold.

Wanda smiles at you appreciatively, then at Natasha a second later, "Y/N/N, it's okay, I see where she's coming from, she's been your mentor for longer than I've known you, she's just looking out for you," the brunette says, "thanks for looking out for her Nat," Wanda whispers honestly.

Natasha nods with a small smile on her face.

Then suddenly she turns to look at you with a serious glare, the action causing you to drop her hand and step back a little in surprise and slight fear, "and you," Natasha begins, pointing a finger at your chest, "you better not hurt her either. I know that you mean well most of the time and that things easily go over your head," she says and you pout.

"Rude," you mutter.

"But please, don't be an idiot, be rational. Always remember, both of you, that communication is key, talk things out before jumping to conclusions, listen to what the other has to say and all that good stuff because this is the last thing I will say to you both as relationship advice or whatever. So please, don't hurt each other, be mindful of one another and for all that is holy, use protection," she ends with a smirk as she sees both you and Wanda stutter, faces flushed red in embarrassment.

"Mom," you whine jokingly, causing Natasha to let out a laugh. "Thanks Natty," you say after a brief moment, pulling the shorter woman into your arms, "for everything," you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Also, we're both girls, so protection doesn't really work that way, I can't even get her pregnant. So really, you're worrying for nothing, we're all good on that front. But also you don't even know if Wanda wants children, like what if she wants to have my-" you begin rambling, but Wanda's hand on your mouth stops you.

"W-wait, no. We're not- we haven't-," Wanda stutters, shaking her head, "I- what I'm trying to say is, thank you Nat," Wanda smiles with flushed cheeks.

Natasha laughs at both women in good nature, "no problem kiddos, now get some rest, it's late," the redhead says as she walks towards her sleeping quarters.

Wanda removes her hand from your mouth when Natasha is out of ear shot and slaps your arms softly, "oh my god, you're such an idiot," she blushes.

You laugh as you pull her into your arms to stop her assault, "what? What'd I do?" You ask teasingly, "what I said was valid, or what you don't want to have my kids?" You squint playfully causing Wanda to hide her face in her hands as you move forward to hug her, swaying your bodies from side to side lightly in jest.

"Oh my god," the brunette groans, "I am not having this conversation with you right now," she says rolling her eyes as she moves back to grab your hand to pull you to her room.

"So when, tomorrow morning?" You continue teasing.

"No, shut up," she continues grumbling, causing you to laugh.

"Okay, so wait then, where are we going?" You ask.

"To my room," Wanda says still dragging you.

"To make babies?!" You ask excitedly as she pulls you through her door.

"I hate you," she mutters red in the face and you let out an even louder laugh.

"I love you too sweetheart," you say, as you bring her into you to kiss her softly.

When you pull away Wanda looks at you with a smile, "I love you, now it's time to sleep," she says as she pulls you to bed.

After a few minutes of peace and quiet, Wanda thinking you're already asleep. You sit up slightly to teasingly whisper into her ear from behind, "so do you want to have my kids?" Causing Wanda to groan as she shoves your face away from her.

[fiddles-ifs]

🗡DEMO (COMING SOON!) 🗡CHARACTERS 🗡PLAYLIST

Rated 18+ for violence and sexual content. Trigger warnings will be provided at the beginning of each chapter.

The king is dead. Long live the king. Alandria is scarred from six long years of war. After a chance encounter in the field, heir-apparent Lisandro hires your mercenary band as security for his upcoming coronation. Now, you find yourself in the nebulous web of lies, schemes, and murder that make up Alandrian politics. When the future king falls deathly ill, it's your job, as the mercenary band's only healer, to figure out what's killing him. The king is dead. Love live the king.

🗡FEATURES

Customizable MC. Play as male, female, or non-binary; trans or cisgender; inter or endosex; customizable pronouns. Customize your appearance, and personality. Tailor your approach to patients -- do you rely on science and surgery, or magic and faith?

Four unique ethnic backgrounds. Alandrian -- the kingdom you find yourself in after ten years. Iskarian -- the expansive empire to the south, and the jewel of the world. Mani -- the nomadic people unwelcome in the north. Ruz -- hailing from the frigid, barren archipelago across the northern sea.

Who were you in your past? A peasant? A former noble? A monastic? Part of a cult? Each ethnicity has four unique origins to choose from -- each origin will impact the story in different ways.

Romance. Or not! Four romance options, two gender-selectable. Play as gay, straight, bisexual or asexual; allo or aromantic.

Solve a medical mystery. Save the king however you can.

Change the course of history. Your proximity to royalty puts you in a position to play the great game -- in fact, you have to, to stay alive.

POV Switches. See some parts of the story from the point of view of the ROs and other characters.

Keep your secrets hidden. They cannot find out.

🗡ROMANCE OPTIONS

Sibir Temyurinkai. [She/her, he/him, they/them] Your best friend for more than a decade. A mercenary warlord many people can't read. You have a lot of history. Maybe even too much. You make them vulnerable. Flavor of romance: friends-to-lovers, love epiphany, UST, shippers on deck.

Lisandro Abarcas. [He/him] The young king uncrowned of Alandria. He's hired Sibir (and therefore you) to be extra security for his upcoming baptism and coronation, but a mysterious illness forces you to play doctor. Flavor of romance: courtly love, Uptown Girl, savior complexes

Idali Abarcas. [She/her] Duchess of the northern province of Baqueria, second in line to the throne, Lisandro's older sister and vicious rival. A cunning, calculating opponent -- but she might be willing to work with you. Flavor of romance: Uptown Girl, Defrosing the Ice Queen, #girlbossmode, dancing with danger

Tesias. [She/her, he/him, they/them] A very mysterious masked traveler. They offer advice and information -- for a price. As a spy, you can't trust anything they say -- but you know they want revenge. And they want it now. Flavor of romance: [INFORMATION CORRUPTED]

🗡TAGS + LINKS

[TKP ASKS] [SIBIR] | [LISANDRO] | [IDALI] | [TESIAS] [DISCORD]

[lovelytsunoda]

uptown girl // mickey "fanboy" garcia

soft kisses shared in the bar light after a game of pool

she would do anything for her nerd boy. except maybe meet his friends in a crowded bar with a pool table where she can make a fool of herself in front of all of her boyfriend's friends. it's a good thing that mickey is a good teacher.

pairing: mickey "fanboy" garcia x female! reader

author's note: he had like four lines and i was prepared to go to war for this man.

the hard deck hummed with activity as she parked her car, flicking off the manual headlights before glancing at her phone, which was pinned to it's magnetic holder on the dashboard.

it wasn't too late to text mickey and tell him something had come up, was it?

as she was thinking it, as if mickey could hear her, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text message from her beloved.

mickey: hey sweet girl, are you almost here? everyone is so excited to meet you!

she sighed, switching the music off and cutting the engine, sitting in the dark car and waiting for the heated seat to lose its warmth. her relationship with mickey garcia was still very new.

they had only been together for a few months, having met at an eighties rock-and-glow dance night. she was standing by the stage, dressed in skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that glowed fluorescent in the blacklight, an old-timey glass sprite bottle in her hands as she sang bonnie tyler at the top of her lungs. he was the best dancer there, with a goofy personality that captivated her from the moment he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a slow dance to 'heaven in your eyes'.

deciding to rip the band-aid off, she grabbed her tote bag from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car, sea breeze cutting deep and sending a chill down her spine as she walked up the weathered steps to fightertown's navy bar.

her sweet boy was impossible to miss, his smile lighting up the whole bar as he stood next to the pool table, his short-sleeved button shirt untucked from his crisp blue jeans.

as nervous as she was, it was hard not to smile when she saw him, watching as he leaned over the table to delicately knock a striped ball into one of the pockets in the corner of the table. after the shot, he looked up, and infectious grin breaking out over his face when he saw her.

"hey, pretty girl." he beamed, passing his pool cue to a woman in a black turtleneck and jeans before he sidestepped the table and pulled his lover into an embrace. "i'm glad you came."

"hi, mickey." she smiled, kissing him softly. "i've missed you."

"are you ready to meet everyone? or do you want something to eat first? i can order you a plate of onion rings-"

she laughed softly, taking his hand in hers. she loved how attentive and sweet he was, always trying to dote on her whenever he could. when they were together, he hated letting her pay for things, even if it meant dipping into his not-enormous navy salary "mickey, it's okay. i have time to meet your friends before i order."

with a soft kiss to the side of her head, mickey looped his arm around her shoulders and they headed towards the pool table. "guys, this is y/n. my girlfriend."

she underestimated how much her heart would swell at hearing mickey say those words. hearing someone declare to the world that they had chosen her.

"y/n, this is natasha, jake, robert, bradley, hallie and javy."

"hello!" she squeaked, waving at the group. "nice to finally meet you guys, mickey has told me so much about you guys."

robert laughed, reaching out to shake her hand. "and mickey has told us even more about you. fanboy loves to talk."

she never though she'd meet someone who talked as much as she did until she met mickey. they could talk for hours, about anything and everything. when they were together, she suspected it would drive the people around them insane. except she didn't know how his friends would react, what they would think of her.

they made small talk for a little, while some of the guys and natasha all took their turns at the pool table. it was team game, although the teams seemed to be a little unbalanced in terms of skill level. mickey had pulled her into his lap, gently rubbing circles on the skin underneath her peasant top.

jake leaned over the table, his pool cue hitting the white ball, white harmlessly dusted the side of the ball he was aiming for, plunking down in the basket.

"god damn it, hangman!" javy groaned

natasha laughed, high-fiving bradley. "sucks to suck, bagman!"

mickey shifted in his chair, hands running up her sides. "our turn, pretty girl. do you want to try?"

she turned back to him, a small glint of panic in her eyes as she took his hand in hers. "i'm not very good."

bradley snorted, taking a sip of his budweiser. "we're miles ahead of hangman, you could break the table and we'd still be ahead of them."

"go on." mickey encouraged, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. "i'll guide you."

she stood up, still clutching his hand in hers as she moved towards the pool table. hallie passed her a pool cue, and she stood nervously by the table until mickey came up behind her. his hands were warm through her jeans, his back against hers as he guided her into the correct position.

"you got this, sweet girl." he said quietly, kissing the side of her head gently, his hands over hers on the cue. "it's a straight shot into the basket."

mickey stepped back, his hands still on her waist as she took the shot, hitting with just enough force for the white ball to send the orange solid ball into the basket.

one fell swoop.

mickey's side of the pool table started to cheer, and her cheeks flushed pink as she turned around to wrap her arms around mickey, hiding her face from the crowd.

"great job, my darling girl." mickey laughed, kissing her softly. "are you sure you haven't played pool before."

"my grandfather had a table in his basement." she said sheepishly, leaning the cue against the table to she could slip her hands into mickey's back pockets. "but i haven't played a proper game since I was twelve. he sold the table when they sold the house."

"maybe you'll have to play more often." mickey said, leaning in to kiss her softly. "i love you."

"i love you too."

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @httpiastri

[kneelingshadowsalome]

As a history and Mythological lover, I love your works, they are so addictive, and you write so well, and the Minotaur konig fic was such a pleasure to read. I remember when you first uploaded the Roman konig story and I was so ecstatic about it, I remember checking on my break at work, If you’d uploaded another part haha, I mean I still check tumblr on my breaks to see who had uploaded so I know what I can read after I get home lol.

I think you’ve found your niche!

Also if you don’t mind answering what other time periods you’d think konig would fit in? Victorian era?

Nasty, oily and covered in coal, konig is walking home through the streets and bumped into a clean wealthy beautiful young woman, ooh do I love forbidden romances, just like your nun fic lol.

Ahh thank you! Mythology, fairytales and historical au’s are a passion of mine 😭

And puh-leeze, a forbidden romance between a dirty worker and a rich uptown girl? Filthy coal miner König who bumps into this fancy lady dressed in white? How can he ever make up for his clumsiness?? Please don’t have him beaten like the poor bastard he is, he already fucked up today by accidentally destroying boss’s new machinery by showing off his strength...

Tries to steal a peek at her ankles, and under her dress while dusting off her skirts with some napkin that’s hardly much cleaner than his hands. And she’s just giggling at him – great, now he’s hard... How is he going to explain this when he rises from here?? (Rich lady also being protected at all costs from dirty dogs like him! He's soon panting at her door!)

As for other historical au’s and fairytales... >:)

CW: Fear of SA (historical au), wife stealing (yandere fairytale imagine)

Obviously I see König as this dark knight of the Teutonic Order, punishing pagans with his sword somewhere in the wild woods of old Europe. How about another forbidden romance between a cold-hearted crusader & a cute pagan girl who lives in the woods and worships the old gods?

She gets captured during some awful raid, and is pulled into the camp by her hair, angry tears streaming down her face. The soldiers tie her to a thick wooden cross and leave her in the rain, probably to have their way with her later, taking turns with her after they've gambled and had a drink. Then this dark, giant knight happens to walk by, not a regular foot soldier but an actual knight with armor as black as night. She remembers him from the battlefield, wielding a fat morningstar, splitting people’s skulls from atop the huge black destrier he rode...

A terrible beast, dark and silent and big, the rain batters his helmet as he takes one look at the shivering maiden on the cross, her white linen dress glued to her skin in the downpour, and stops.

The soldiers have a crude sense of humour and what’s arousing, but he has seen worse… The knights of the Holy Order are even more perverted when it comes to having “fun” with women. But something pierces his defense when seeing the frightened stare of this pagan girl, her weak body trembling on the cross, the wide dark nipples perked up from cold. He’s seen so much death, his soul is drenched in blood by this point, but somehow, this woman who hasn’t even been broken in is the last straw.

Ends up taking her down, and she attaches herself to him like he’s her saviour, even the cold black armor apparently warmer to her skin than the cold rain. The cruelest of knights feels a moment of pity for this girl and sets her free, pushes her to the woods and waves his hand in a gesture of Get the hell out of here while you still can. (=gtfo before I get hard enough to take you in the mud...)

Months later, she finds him bleeding to death under a tree after a battle. All the other soldiers are screaming and crying for their mothers, but this one is silent, eyes darkening when he recognizes her. He says something, already delusional, and she can’t help but kneel and offer him water…

(and from this point on it would go somewhere in @wordstome s Kosovo maiden territory, perhaps slightly darker? But you get the point!)

And then there’s this old Inuit story that always reminds me of König, it has many variations but it’s basically about this lonely hunter who gets a little too resentful for not having a wife yet. Goes to paddle his boat in these moonlit waters and sees a bunch of maidens dancing in the moonlight on a small little island, notices their seal skins on the ground, and because he’s lonely and in despair, he steals one of them.

One by one, the maidens put their seal skins on and rush back into the water, but one woman can’t find her seal skin no matter how hard she looks for it. The hunter emerges, holding her beautiful skin, saying he’ll give it back to her if she comes to live as his wife for 7 years. She has no other choice but to say yes, and for a while they live happily, they even have a son, but then the seal woman starts to miss her seal skin and the sea...

It’s a tragic tale and the hunter won’t let her leave even if she cries so this would make a wonderful yandere scenario, you could always make a twist and write the woman as some other animal, a deer perhaps, and König as this lonely brooding hunter of the Austrian mountains :)

[theblue6ook]

Other Lovers PT 2

Summary: Y/N and Rachel get to know each other while Bruce makes up for his birthday party fowl.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: This is a SLOW BURN, we are burning slowly. Stay tuned because, in the next part, Y/N’s fiance might not be her fiance anymore, and is Bruce starting to have feelings??? This is also a part of the Out of My League series. [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

Y/N and Carrie sat in Swan, the gaudiest, most expensive fashion boutique there was. It was way uptown compared to what they were used to, but Bruce had booked this as a part of her birthday celebration. Y/N, you can’t go to The Ocelot without a dress, he said as he handed her his platinum card. She called him a snob as she snatched it out of his hand, white in the face. I don’t even want to know the limit to this card if there even is one. Normally, she’d never let him pay for her, but… it was her birthday, so she allowed it, and he had pulled out all of the stops. 

So, over cheese and wine and dresses, Y/N sat and finally came clean to Carrie about what happened with Russ. And Carrie… Carrie was pissed. 

“Y/N/N,” she started, “Now you know I would love and I mean love to spend your birthday dinner with you. Obviously. But what the fuck?”

“Listen, Carrie, I just… I don’t even know what to do anymore.” She sat down her Riesling and shoved a piece of merlot cheese into her mouth, hoping it would numb the sting of her absent fiance. It didn’t.

“He’s your fiance!” she cried out, almost spilling her mocktail out of her hand. 

“It’s just been like this with him. He’s hot, he’s cold. Anything that has to do with my job or Bruce, he just loses his mind!”

Y/N had shifted the dress she was trying on to tuck her legs underneath her. They had been dress shopping for a little less than an hour, but she could tell Carrie was getting tired; she had her treatments a few days ago, so they decided to sit and eat. But now that Y/N had blabbed on Russ, it was like all Carrie’s energy came flooding back to her.

“Can I speak freely?” Carrie had that fiery look in her eye as she sat up straighter. She knew this was something Carrie had been holding onto for a long time, but she wasn’t ever in the mood to hear it. She wasn’t even sure she was in the mood to hear it now, but… she nodded anyway. “It hasn’t been right with Russ for a while.”

“Carrie-”

“Hear me out,” she stopped her, holding up her finger and a piece of cheese. “You know I love Russ; we’ve all known each other since high school, but just because you’re with someone for a long time doesn’t mean you should stay with them.”

Y/N shook her head, “We’re just in a rough patch.”

“Your rough patch started way before Bruce Wayne,” she said, sighing, looking at Y/N, “I’m not saying make any rash decisions. I’m just saying think about it. Think about what’s good for you.”

It felt like pins and needles were in her eyes as hot tears dwelled at the tip of her lashes. She knew it had been rough with Russ, but she hadn’t cried about it, and she didn’t want to. Pulling herself together, she inhaled. “What do you think about the red, backless one over there.”

Carrie grinned.

-

Everyone looked towards the large group of ballerinas that filtered into The Ocelot, entertained, and who was leading them? Bruce Wayne himself. His staff set his table to the left of the staircase, and ironically, so was Rachels. What a coincidence! Harvey Dent had waved to him immediately, oblivious to the past relations Bruce had with his date, while Rachel gave him a knowing look like she already knew what he was up to. 

Harvey stood to greet him with a pleasant, “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you tonight, Mr.Wayne.” 

“Well, it is my restaurant, Harvey,” Bruce shook his hand politely. He glanced down at Rachel, and it was clear she didn’t take the bait and sat patiently in her chair. “I see you know my good friend, Rachel.”

She nodded over at the ballerinas disapprovingly, “I see you brought some friends of your own, Bruce.” 

“She’s always scolding me,” he mumbled to Harvey.

Harvey looked almost disappointed, staring at the group of women, “We were going to see the ballerinas tonight.”

“Were you,” Bruce feigned a shocked look. “I’m so sorry. I offered to take them to dinner for all their hard work.”

“On a recital night?” Rachel said knowingly.

“Well, we can always push out tables together if you’d like to speak with them?” 

Rachel rolled her eyes, aware of where this was going, while Harvey quickly protested as civilly as he could. Placing her hand on Harvey’s arm, Rachel asked Harvey to sit back down and assured him she was sure Bruce had other places to be, but Bruce’s attention moved elsewhere. A tiff was starting not too far from them. The workers were trying to kick two women out; it seemed their reservation had been taken over by his large table. He couldn’t see the women covered by the large group of hosts gathering, but he could hear their conversation. 

“Are you kidding me? Bruce Wayne made this reservation for her himself!”

“You know what? Don’t worry about it.” He recognized that voice. Shit.

Mumbling, excuse me to a babbling Harvey, he walked over to the group of people in strides. Clearing his throat, it was like Moses at the Red Sea. The hosts quickly split down the middle, and all went silent, wide-eyed. The manager, whom he recognized before, became red in the face, but that wasn’t the red he focused on. Turned at the waist, there she was bare-backed, draped in red, and annoyed, as per usual.

Before he could get a word in, the manager rushed to him and blurted out, “We assure you, Mr. Wayne, it’s being handled.” 

She turned fully this time holding the arm of the other woman she was with, whom he could only assume was Carrie. “Really Bruce? The entire Gotham Ballet.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know how your reservation got moved,” he looked toward one of the hosts. “I want them in the green room. Not too far from my table, but far enough the noise won’t be a problem. Anything they want, they get. Charge it to my card.” 

It was like someone had released the doves. White jacketed, hosts and waitresses flew around wildly and without question. Grabbing place settings, table cloths, moving around CEO’s, politicians, and models. Carrie was in awe mouth open. Y/N couldn’t help but feel the same way. Everyday she worked for Bruce Wayne, she was shocked by the power he had. She saw his odd moments. She saw his darkcircles when he came in office. She saw him fall asleep during meetings. She watched him sit behind her and watch New Girl with her while she was on break. He claimed he didn’t normally have time for Television. 

Y/N focused her attention on him, “You don’t know how our reservation was moved, but you invited the entire ballet?”

“Listen, it was a whim,” he grinned.

“Does whim mean Rachel-”

“-and happy birthday by the way,” he cut her off and pulled her in for a hug. Her dress was silky under his fingertips as he slid his hands around her. His hands were cold against her hot bare back. She shivered in his arms, but accepted the hug and slipped her hands over his shoulders, leaning onto her tiptoes. Still hugging Y/N, he extended a hand to the woman Y/N was with, “You must be Carrie I’ve heard so much about you.”

Carrie took his hand, grinning at the two, “It’s so nice to meet the man Y/N has been bullying every day.”

He laughed leaning his head back, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Y/N peeked over his shoulder and spotted Rachel staring at the pair, “Oh is that who I think it is over there?”

Before he could say anything else, Y/N’s staring had caught Rachel's attention. It seemed to finally be the bait she needed to stand and approach Bruce… or should I say Y/N. Harvey, struggling to keep up with her, seemed surprised by the sudden change in demeanor.

“Bruce!” she smacked his arm mischievously. “How rude of you! Introduce Harvey and me to your new lady friends.”

She smiled over at Carrie, but the way she looked at Bruce and Y/N could only be described as suggestive. Y/N stuck out her hand to shake Rachel's. She took her hand in return, eyeing her small, dainty engagement ring placed on Y/N's left ring finger. Anyone else looking at the ring would have immediately noticed it was not big or bold enough to be from Bruce Wayne, cracked with time, and clearly a fake stone, yet she still raised her eyebrow at the pair. Bruce and Y/N noticed the shift and suddenly started interrupting each other, creating some sort of rushed mashed sentence.

“Oh, he’s my boss, I’m engaged-” “She’s my assistant, Rachel-” “We work together-” “I wouldn’t say we’re that good of friends-” “I wouldn’t say we’re anything above coworkers-” “More like work friends-”

The smile on Rachel’s face grew in amusement. Oh, to tease Bruce Wayne. “So you work for him? I hope you’re keeping him on his toes.”

“On his toes and in office,” Y/N gossiped proudly. “Though now, with this ballerina fiasco, I have another thing to add to my plate. I almost lost my reservation because of this shit!”

“Do I have to ask how this is going to affect you?” Bruce asked, and Y/N’s attention completely shifted to him.

“Do you have no common sense? The entire restaurant is going to have to shift their reservations. Who do you think the governor is going to be calling when he can’t get a reservation for his anniversary? You. Because it’s your restaurant.” Y/N turned quickly back to Rachel. “I hope he hasn’t been bothering your date too much.”

She shrugged, “I’ve known Bruce since we were kids. Trust me, I can handle it. It’s so nice to see someone else who doesn’t just fawn over him.”

As they bantered, Bruce looked at Carrie and just shook his head. She snickered. He should have known if Y/N and Rachel ended up in the same space together, shenanigans would ensue.

“I hate to interrupt,” he spoke. No, he doesn’t, Rachel mumbled to Y/N, who grinned at her. “Okay, I don’t, but you should probably sit down and eat before my restaurant closes.”

Bruce had taken Y/N by the shoulder, to which she rolled her eyes, and offered Carrie his elbow, leading them over to the green room. The walls were draped in a deep green floral wallpaper. It was eclectic, like nothing she would expect from Bruce’s restaurant, especially after seeing his family home. There was a large fountain, big enough to swim in, placed in the center of the room and decorated with tigers. A curious thing to have at a restaurant called The Ocelot, she thought. But that’s still not what immediately caught her attention when she entered the room. Their table was to the right of the large gaudy fountain, decorated with a tiered birthday cake, almost as tall as the table. She held her breath, and Carrie gasped. 

He was still behind her, but his hand slipped to her waist. The back of his palm was against the hot skin of her back, and his fingers traced the edge of her silk dress by her hip bone. With a wave of his hand, the servers lit the candles and dimmed the lights, illuminating what could only be described as a frosted tower of light glistening against the water of the fountain. Leaning, lips against her ear, he whispered, “I hope this makes up for earlier. Happy Birthday.” 

To be continued… @pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess

[gluion]

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ sung hanbin

sung hanbin x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with hanbin

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 728 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ this drabble is very reminiscent of an upcoming fic i have which will a hanbin version entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i’m very much in my feelings as we speak…) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 IT’S OUT THOUGH IF YOU WANNA READ IT! do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies hanbin’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do their best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and hanbin were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and hanbin’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” hanbin admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder. 

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?) 

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” hanbin’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, hanbin.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (4)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Lots of blood drinking (+ its underlying issues), suggestive themes, mention of bodily fluids, and at least dubious consent for vampire turning ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Bury Me

Leon had reached a row of converted Victorian-style residential buildings in the Lower West Side of Uptown Raccoon City. Tall, stained glass windows lined their exterior, accented with a mixture of gabled and Mansard roofs. Pointed arches embellished with corbels and fretwork adorned the structures, detailing their rich architectural history. Despite them appearing frozen in time, harking back to the 19th century, everything else had been modernized for their inhabitants.

Scanning his keycard on the reader, he slipped in through the back entrance and hurried towards the rarely used service elevator that was stationed out of sight in a narrow corridor at the rear end of the building. He swiped his card again to gain access to his specific apartment floor, punching the button several times erratically, even though it had already lit up on the first try. Upon noticing that he had accidentally smudged blood from his hands onto it, he muttered a string of curses while using the cuff of his shirt to wipe it off.

Holding you close, he planted a desperate kiss against the crown of your head, as if by some miracle you would wake up from this nightmare, safe and sound in his arms. Your body temperature had dropped considerably, and with each passing second, he could feel your vitals waning as your life force ebbed into oblivion.

“Come on, stay with me,” he begged, his visage crumbling under the weight of grief, and out of habit, he thumbed at the gold cross pendant hanging from his necklace. If there was a god, he would let you live.

As soon as the elevator doors parted with a resonant ding, he sped out towards the only apartment door on the top floor. Feeling the side of the frame for a familiar indent, he pressed against it, and a matchbox sized cache slid out, containing a crescent shaped device. Attaching it to another metallic apparatus that he carried around in his pocket, he slotted it through the keyhole while simultaneously adjusting what looked like gears of an old-fashioned clock into place. 

Despite all these years, he still had a penchant for puzzle solving, seeing as his former workplace, the Raccoon Police Station, had been a labyrinth in itself. And what better way to put his hobby to use than to invest into the security of his haven, by creating his own intricate lock mechanisms, complete with false walls and hidden passageways. It may seem a little over the top, but sometimes it was comforting to lose his nights designing and crafting the things that had made him human in the beginning.

With a satisfying click, the heavyset door creaked open on its hinges, revealing an immaculately kept and minimalist loft. He dashed in, shutting the door behind him before pushing the coffee table away and setting you down gently on the rug. You were the only blemish in the room, bleeding out from underneath him, staining the fabric in the pattern of angel’s wings.

He felt your pulse, weak and unsteady, and you were nearly gone. It crushed him to see you like this, your skin ashen and pale — the only shade of blue he never liked. As you lay there unresponsive like a corpse before him, he knew he needed to go through with what he had planned for you all long along. Even so, he had a hard time coming to terms with it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! He was meant to woo you, give you a taste of what the unlife had to offer, bring you over to his side and both of you would, what—? Live happily ever after? 

Fucking hell, Leon. What the fuck were you thinking? he swore at himself internally. Ada’s words came back to haunt him. She was right, he had let his emotions get ahead of him again. Regardless, he had to fix this mess, and letting you die was out of the question, as was turning you into a mindless ghoul addicted to a blood bond. No, he would never do that to you.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, brushing the strands of your hair, which had clumped together in dried blood and sweat, out of your face. You were so deathly cold in your slumber…

Then, he broke the first of his promises and drained you dry. Images of you flooded his mind again as he latched his mouth onto your neck. He could feel your fears, your joys, and your sorrows. The first steps you had taken as a child, captured through the lens of an old home video; the family and friends you would leave behind; long, solitary walks in the woods; dancing your heart out in smoky nightclubs; ceiling-high shelves filled to the brim with musty books and DIY costumes you’d pieced together from scraps; every trinket and memento — all the signs of life that had made you happy.

There was no time for regrets. He could make you happier, he vowed. He will, he had to.

At the very last drop, he licked the bite marks close and let go, slashing his wrist against his teeth before placing it to your lips. His own sanguine fluid coated your lips in a cherry red stain, restoring a semblance of life to your otherwise waxen complexion, as it dripped down your throat. Slowly, your jaw began to move, lips puckering up as it suctioned against the open wound, the tip of your tongue licking across it over and over again like the sweetest nectar you’d ever savored.

“There you go, angel,” he panted, feeling the pressure grow taut around his wrist as he stroked your hair tenderly with his other hand. “Just a bit more.”

He concentrated on the act, investing the power of his vitae into you, passing on the curse of Caine which he had carried with him all this while. On top of that came the Bane and Compulsion of his clan, as well as its Disciplines and strengths.

You couldn’t explain why your body reacted so naturally to it, but your appetite for his vitae was insatiable, like an insurmountable tidal wave heading towards shore. Your eyes flew open and you caught his ocean blue gaze. Gasping for breath, you clamped down on his wrist even harder, earning you a gratifying moan that fell from his lips, as they twisted into an expression of excruciating euphoria.

Likewise, you felt the build up of sheer bliss with an underlying tinge of agony within you, as you continued drinking from him, unable to stop yourself, no matter how much you tried. Every fiber of your being burned like a warm, inviting flame. You were the epitome of a phoenix in a pyre, combusting and being reborn again, walking barefoot across searing hot coal unharmed, as the fire raged on. From ashes to ashes, dust to dust, into eternal life.

And then he appeared before you like an ethereal, ghostly apparition, kneeling in the pews of a cathedral you didn’t recognize, praying fervently to a crucified man on a wooden cross. Subsequently, the scene switched to a hectic office space, permeated with the shrill sound of phones ringing and papers flying in every direction. There he stood in the center of the room, like the eye of a storm, a handgun secured in his holster as he moved the pins around on a crime board. One vision blurred into the other and it felt as if you were seeing his past, present and future all at once.

An immense rush of ecstasy filled your senses at the final image of you riding him like a horse, as if you were experiencing it for yourself firsthand. Sweat poured down your naked bodies as you rolled your hips back and forth against his lasciviously. His calloused hands squeezed the sides of your thighs, encouraging you to move faster as he thrust up into you. In the throes of passion, you threw your head back and cried out in excess, but found it muffled against his wrist as you abruptly returned to reality. Your eyes went straight to his, and the knowing look on his face gave it away, confirming that you had partaken in the last vision together.

The Beast was gnawing at the cage in his chest again as you suckled more of his vitae. A hunger arose within him and he was aware that the deed had been done. The primary hurdle was getting you to stop.

“Angel, my love,” he called to you softly, “That’s all I can give you.”

You had heard every word he said; they were crystal clear, but your head remained fuzzy, as if it were wrapped in layers of cotton wool, dampening your thoughts. He could see it in your glazed eyes that you were unable to register what he had requested of you, but he couldn’t bear to tear himself away.

“Please, angel,” he whimpered. “Let go.”

At that point, something in you clicked. Perhaps it was the sight of a broken man, crouched in the middle of his living room, weary from all the bloodshed and the cruel hand fate had dealt him tonight. You wanted to do everything you could to soothe his pain. The same pain that had crept up in his voice the night he put you to bed, and when he had wondered out loud in the park if you could accept him for who he was.

Loosening your grip, you tilted back, allowing him to retract his hand as you ingested the rest of his vitae in your mouth. Nothing could ever come close to the intensity of what you had just felt. Gradually, you came down from the high and your ragged breathing evened out. A numbing weight pressed against your body as your eyes fluttered before closing. Was this it? Was this the end? All you could think of was what a peaceful way it was to die.

A shiver ran down his spine as Leon caressed your cheek, watching you fall back to sleep again. Even his own Embrace hadn’t gone this far. Of course it had been the best thing he had felt in the world, but this, with you? It was on a completely different plane. The memories, the shared sexual intimacy, how—? Did he hallucinate that? He still hadn’t figured it out. It was something for maybe the Tremere, unfortunately, to advise on.

But he had bigger things to worry about now. This was only a temporary respite before you would awake in torment, and he needed to find a way to ease that as quickly as possible, despite being so ill-prepared. It would be the first lesson he’d have to teach you and one of the worst.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A set of steely arms wrapped around you the moment your body jolted upright as you came to. Disoriented and unable to think straight, you struggled to break out of their hold as you heard Leon’s voice in your ear, “Shhh… it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me.”

You tried to speak but only unintelligible growls escaped your mouth and you continued thrashing about wildly, as a gut-wrenching pain ripped through your flesh and bones. It felt like hundreds of rats were clawing their way out of your stomach as your eyes searched the room rabidly for the offending source that was driving you insane.

And then you saw him. A man in a fancy business suit, unconscious but propped up against the wall. His hands were bound with rope and a nasty bruise swelled at the side of his head. You let out a torturous wail when it finally dawned on you that the very substance you had been lusting after was his blood. It smelled incredible from where you were seated and you were frothing at the mouth like a deranged animal.

What the fuck was going on?! your mind screamed, while you made guttural noises in retaliation. Is this—? Oh god, no! What did he do to me?

There was a persistent throb in your corner teeth, as if they had been plucked out by force and something foreign had been put in its place. You ran your tongue over them, they were elongated and sharp. Just like-

Leon? He pulled you flush against his chest, trapping you in his iron grip, and with a sense of urgency, he spelled out, “Listen to me, you’re not gonna like this, but you need to feed on him.”

Shaking your head violently, your eyes rolled back as if you were possessed by a demonic entity, while you fought with all your might against him and your overzealous hunger. No, no, no, fuck that! I won’t—!

“If you don’t, you will lose control and murder everyone in your path,” he explained.

Noticing how you continued to resist him vehemently, he added, “You won’t have to kill him, I can show you how.”

You whined, scratching at his hands and crying like a hapless pup. There was no need for you to articulate it in words. He understood everything you were going through — the inner turmoil and mental dilemma at your first feed. Except, you had it worse off than him. At least back then, he knew what he was getting himself into and accepted it. You just didn’t have the privilege of time.

Shambling across the floorboards, he brought you closer to the man. “It’s not easy in this state, but you’re strong, and smart. I know you can.” He paused, shifting his grip on you so that he could point out an obscured trail along the man’s neck. “You need to hit one of the arteries or veins for a clean feed. Usually, you’d take it slow and be more careful, but we don’t really have an option tonight.”

Suppressing another painful whine, you tried your utmost to follow his instructions as a beast-like creature went berserk in your chest, bashing it way through your ribcage. Focusing on the area he had identified, you could more or less make out the veins protruding from his skin, like an ultrasound.

“Here, the jugular,” he indicated. “You can start with that, but don’t drain him fully. I’ll help you to stop, just remember to lick it close at the end, okay?”

Nodding, you sobbed out a vague agreement, though your feet were kicking out furiously, itching to be set free. It felt like your mind and body had been separated in two, and neither worked in tandem with each other. The scent of this man’s blood was overpowering, it was making you giddy.

As soon as he let you go, you lurched forward, grabbing the man’s neck roughly as you plunged your teeth into the vein you’d singled out. A viscous, intoxicating liquid enveloped your mouth as you had your fill. Raw energy flowed from one end to another, restoring function to your organs and limbs, as they began to come under your control again. The more you drank, the clearer your mind became, and the Beast within you quietened, satiated from the elixir that seemed to nourish your entire being and soul. Soul? Did you still have one, especially after this?

From a distance you heard your name, accompanied by an appeal to cut it short. Once again, you were thrown into the depths of a battlefield, where each side struggled for dominance as its victor. It felt too good to end it here. Why should you obey? a voice inside you sneered.

A pair of hands gripped your shoulders from behind. Leon’s tone was stern and resolute: “Stop, lick the wound now.”

His command reverberated through your hollow chest, rattling your bones as you submitted to him. Swabbing your tongue over the puncture site, you released your prey as Leon pulled you away. Splotches of bright crimson covered the man’s attire as well as your own. It had been a messy affair.

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.” His voice was tender again, as he turned your face to his. Dragging his fingertip along the spilled blood trickling down your throat, he scooped up the remains and sucked it into his mouth.

By now, he was an expert in cleaning up after his elders, having done his fair share of dirty errands. That’s what neonates like him were good for. At least it would come in handy tonight. The man was still alive, drowsy as hell, but his heart was beating. He had taught you well.

“You did this to me.” The accusation rang like the toll of a bell in his ears, as he watched your expression change into one of pure hatred and disgust. 

But before you could continue on with the verbal onslaught you had been saving up for him, a debilitating pain struck, blinding you in the process as you clutched your abdomen and trembled turbulently. What—? When will this ever end?

You were physically dealing with the bitter aftermath of being snatched from the hands of death and flung into rebirth through abnormal means. Anything within you that didn’t need to be there anymore would be cleansed in the next few hours, as your body was dying and disposing of the needless waste. It was not like this in the movies. You wanted to laugh at the outright ridiculousness of it, but all you managed were terrified shrieks. 

It was humiliating to be brought down this low in front of him — the man who went from someone you had started to fall for to the last person in the world you wanted to be in the same room with. You hated him for what he had done to you. The fire came back, but this time it was like being burnt at the stake; it was harrowing. 

To Leon, you could never degrade yourself in his eyes. He stayed with you the whole time, rubbing reassuring circles on your back as you writhed in agony, dirtying his rug with vomit and piss. 

Though she had cared in her own way, Ada never did this for him. He remembered his transformation like it was just yesterday. The serene peach walls of her bathroom, equipped with fluffy towels, aromatic diffusers, and soft music playing in the background, like a spa he couldn’t enjoy. He had been tucked away safely in the bathtub, the door locked on him, as he shivered uncontrollably like a junkie. She couldn’t bear to see him like this — his face covered in snot, stinking up the place with a vacant look in his eyes. It was a mess, but a controlled one.

With you, he wanted it all — the good and the bad. He couldn’t offer you the luxuries that Ada had with him, but he would be there beside you, taking care of you like the sire he desired to be.

━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a sense of déjà vu when you awakened for the second time that night. Or was it morning? You couldn’t be sure anymore. Somehow, you had ended up on a double bed that wasn’t your own and in clothes that you’d never wear — not unless you were a lingerie model on the cover of a magazine spread, or one of those rich housewives looking to spice things up in the bedroom. In your last conscious moments, you thought you had soiled yourself, but now you were squeaky clean. Did Leon—?

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil. 

You whipped your head in his direction, and saw him leaning against the banister of the stairs that connected the partially open, mezzanine-like level to the main floor below, which it overlooked. Out of a sense of self-preservation and modesty, you crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tightly.

Stifling a laugh, he smiled at you bashfully like a teenage boy in front of his first crush. “It’s, um, my sire’s.” He gestured towards your outfit. “I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t have anything else.”

Sire? Letting yourself go, you peered down at the fitting lace chemise that clung to your body, still feeling vulnerable and naked under his gaze, as you speculated over what he meant.

“It suits you,” he complimented, either oblivious to your bemusement or attempting not broach the subject at this point.

The remark he had made, even if with good intentions, made your blood boil. “Does turning me into a monster suit me?” you spat, getting up from the bed as you strode towards him in fury.

A flicker of remorse flashed across his eyes and his breath hitched. He thought he could stall for time and reconcile with you before having the talk, but he had been blindsided by your astuteness. Despite that, he tried to pacify you. “Angel…”

But you weren’t having any of it. “Shut up!” you hollered, slapping him hard across the face. The blow was harsh enough to send his head snapping to the side, leaving a vivid red handprint marked on his cheek. “I’m not your angel, and never will be!”

He could’ve punished you for your insolence, but chose to suck it up and tolerate it. You were clearly struggling to accept your new circumstances.

“Okay, I deserve that,” he conceded, gingerly rubbing the side of his face where it stung.

You didn’t seem to care though, in fact, you were absolutely livid to the point where you couldn’t speak. Casting him a venomous look of disdain, you drew in labored breaths, your chest rising and falling in rapid, heaving motions.

His watery eyes met yours, and you saw the pain and hurt brimming in them. “You would’ve died back there,” he whispered. “I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you withdrew from him, gripping the edge of the bedpost so intensely that a huge chunk of it broke off. Wait, just how strong were you now?

He glanced over at the damage and winced. Dammit, I liked that bed, he sighed to himself. 

“I wish I did,” you muttered, eyeing the piece of metal in your hand skeptically before chucking it to the side. “You could’ve done your job and buried me.”

That was when he lost his cool. “Don’t say that,” he hissed sharply, his gaze smoldering like dying embers, as he marched forward, seizing your wrist to prevent you from backing away. “I just wanted to help—”

“Help?” you questioned testily, challenging him head on with a fierce glare. “You forced me to drink some guy’s blood!”

“You would’ve died,” he reiterated, using the same excuse in a loop as if he never heard you.

“He could’ve died!” you retorted, with the same stupid line of argument that Leon had been falling back on each time.

“Well, he didn’t, and he’s fine!” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration and huffed as he pivoted to one side, before turning back to shoot daggers at you. “A little anemic, but fine!” he expounded for good measure.

There was a slight pause until you fired back, “Go fuck yourself, Leon S. Kennedy,” letting every syllable of his full name roll off your tongue mockingly.

A low growl erupted from his sternum. He wanted to yank you roughly by the hair, throw you onto the bed and teach you a lesson. Jesus Christ, Leon, don’t go there. Get a hold of yourself! 

Instead, he bottled up his anger and composed himself. Releasing a deep, slow breath, he evened out his tone, reasoning with you. “Look, like it or not, you need to come to terms with… what you are.”

You hadn’t backtalked him yet; that was a good sign.

“If you want to survive these nights, then I’m the best shot you got.”

Even though you held nothing but contempt towards him in your heart at that very moment, you realized that ultimately, he had a point. And so, you grudgingly raised the white flag. “Fine,” you relented. “But I will never forgive you.”

Another compromise. He could work with that, for now.