#Afraid of a Little Swim?

[sabyfangirl]

Chapter 1: Surfing

Somewhere in East Malaysia, on a beautiful beach where the Tortuga was parked only a few meters away from the water, the Kratt brothers were having a blast fearlessly riding huge, wild waves on their surfboards; an activity not for the faint of heart.

"Coming through!" Chris cheered, pulling off a successful bottom turn, getting ahead of his brother.

"Oh no, you don't!" Martin enthusiastically let out, getting ready for a frontside snap. "Check this out!" He reached the lip of the wave before pivoting on his fins and snapping back down the face to continue riding.

"Not bad, not bad," Chris praised with a rather sarcastic tone, then went to attempt the same movement with great confidence.

Inside the Tortuga, the brothers could be seen surfing like the mad adventurers that they were by Aviva and Koki on the big screen, both girls laughing at their competitive nature.

"They sure seem to be having fun," Aviva let out a soft laugh.

"You said it," Koki giggled in turn.

Outside, Jimmy was relaxing on his longchair with his sunglasses on and a glass of pineapple juice in hand, enjoying the quietude and peaceful atmosphere. "Ah, nothing like a day on the beach!" He stretched, having a good view of the brothers' surfing competition.

After a couple more surfing tricks, Chris and Martin decided to jump off their surfboards, letting them get pushed back on shore by the waves, and go for a swim instead. Underwater, the brothers quickly put their swimming masks on before contemplating the sea world; their surroundings were a combination of algae, seagrass, sargassum, polyps... And in addition to all the creatures in there, it was a beautiful sight to see.

In the distance, Chris' eyes caught a particular sea creature that he and his brother have been wanting to get a close look at for a while. "Martin look!" He pointed right at an oval-shaped figure swimming in the distance.

They both swam closer and closer, until realizing that it was none other than-

"A sea turtle!" They both exclaimed simultaneously. "A green sea turtle to be exact," Chris said with precision.

"I can see that," Martin rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face from excitement.

"And it's a male, you can tell bacause he has a concave plastron," Chris swam underneath the sea turtle, who didn't care much about the brothers' presence in the first place, pointing his finger at the mentioned body part.

"Oh yeah, you're right!" Martin smiled, getting a closer look at their new friend. "And I love his greenish shell," he complimented. Then he put a finger under his chin, becoming pensive. "Your shell is emerald green, so I'll call you... Emerald!" he beamed, as if having a lightbulb moment.

"Emerald?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I like it."

"Thanks!"

The brothers watched their newfound aquatic friend swimming away, undisturbed, seeming at peace. Just then, Martin's creaturepod started ringing; he answered the call.

"Oh, hey Koki!" Martin waved, Chris tilting his head. "You should check out this awesome sea turtle we foun-" He was cut off.

"Guys, get outta there quick!" Koki let out panically, a fearful look on her face, the brothers giving her questioning looks. "What's wrong, Koki?" Chris asked.

Throughout their conversation, Jimmy was still looking out on the ocean when, suddenly, he noticed something strange. He took off his sunglasses and squinted his eyes to have a better look at what it was, but it wasn't long before he let out one of his famous girl screams, dropping his sunglasses and glass of juice, eyes wide from panic. Quickly, he took out his ceaturepod with clumsy hands and called the brothers, just the moment Koki was about to tell them exactly what was going on.

"Chris. Martin. There's a huge wave coming your way! And I mean HUGE!" he shrieked, Koki only nodding her head, both crewmates looking genuinely petrified.

Chris and Martin exchanged scared expressions, before swimming back up to the surface...where they could see a HUGE WAVE coming right at them!

"Swim for it, bro!" Chris yelled out as he and his brother started swimming away, but their efforts were vain, as the enormous wave caught up to them, swallowing them in a matter of seconds.

From the Tortuga, the crew watched as the brothers disappeared from sight on the big screen. "NO!" They all let out at once.

"Where are they?" Jimmy asked with a scared tone.

"I don't know, I don't see them!" Aviva said worriedly.

"Look, it's Chris!" Koki pointed at the screen, where Chris' head could be seen popping out of the water. He caught his breath before scanning his surroundings, expecting to find his brother by his side, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Martin?" He called out... Still nothing.

"Martin, it's not funny!" He tried yet again but to no avail. His stomach dropped as a horrible thought crept into his mind.

Without a moment to spare, he dove back into the water, not caring that he no longer had his mask on, having lost it back there. There, not too far, he could see a familiar figure floating in the water, motionless...

Martin!

Next chapter

[moon-blanket]

A silly little Blurb about early Freelancer and Gavin :)

[Read on ao3]

Gavin was not made for mornings like this.

He was made for the darkness of night. Neon lights of dingy bars, hidden corners of alleyways, and messy, heated nights in pitch black bedrooms. Quick fixes to scratch the itches of mortals, easy supplements of emotion he needs to survive another night– always a means to an end.

Sure, the awkward morning-after was a custom he was more than familiar with. Sneaking out before his bedmate of the hour ever woke up had become a well-practiced art by now. Sometimes he even had the uncomfortable pleasure of seeing them off for the day, parting ways as he begins looking for another meal. Another way to get by.

It's never been anything like today.

The Freelancer sleeps peacefully at his side. It's their first true day off in what has felt like the eons they've had this routine together. With no work or classes to scramble off to today, they've given themself the gift of sleeping in.

It's a shame that he couldn't partake as well, but in this moment he can't find the means to care.

They've twisted themselves into a position that he thinks cannot possibly be comfortable. Half on their stomach, half on their back– facing him with the most serene expression he's ever had the pleasure of witnessing grace their face.

They're beautiful like this.

His eyes follow the outline of the parts of their body left exposed by the covers they've neglected in their sleep. The rise and fall of their back as they slowly breathe, the dark spots that bloom across their skin from their late night tryst, their hair wildly splayed against their pillow and draping delicately in their face.

Sunlight streams through the window, the morning light hits their frame so perfectly, the curves and angles of their body practically glowing in the warmth of the sun. He thinks he finally understands the meaning of true worship.

Gavin does not know much of human religion, not enough to know who to properly thank– but he will gladly give the proper kudos to every god, every sovereign in the stars, that guided him to his Freelancer.

His Freelancer...

There's a pang in his chest he's unfamiliar with when the thought passes through his mind. It's a little frightening.

He doesn't know how long he stays there and admires them. Eventually he watches as their body awakens, their eyes open to reveal the prettiest color he's ever seen.

When they gain their bearings, recognizing his form as he lays beside them, they flash a sleepy smile as another pang courses through his non-existent heart. One that he begins to welcome as they move to cuddle into him.

He's starting to believe that he could learn to love mornings as long as His Freelancer is beside him.

Thank you for reading. :3

[crepusculum-rattus]

i know there are no sharks in minecraft but i think endlantis should have them

[byanyan]

today on "really mundane & every day things that byan doesn't know how to do": they have no idea how to make coffee. embarrassing, considering who they're dating. don't get me wrong, they understand the basics in concept, but if you set them down in front of a coffee maker with everything they needed to make a pot of coffee spread out in front of them... they'd ultimately end up missing a few steps and/or end up either making some very watery coffee, or coffee that's way too strong. and that's assuming they don't just stomp off in frustration and embarrassment instead of actually trying.

[cj-kenobi]

okay not to name names but I heard the scientist studying us likes one of us better than the others. yeah I heard one of us has a sign on their enclosure that says "if found dead, preserve in ethanol". I know. looks like one of us is the scientists specialest little subject. won't say who though

[zoologica42]

Temperate Lake Dashboard Simulator

🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow Going to try and eat this weird fish

♻️🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow wilmdlife hopital

🐸rana-bufo Follow No one can ever truly understand what BULL4rog's music means to me 😭 this song in particular argrgrgrgrgrg the way he puffs out his vocal sack asdfghjk

BULL4rog: listen here on spotify ♻️🐸rana-bufo Follow I think I huave chytrid

🐟ilikeeatingminnowsFollow I just migrated here from finstagram please be nice

🐠powerbottomfeeder Follow

I have HAD IT with this lake, it’s the third day in a row we’ve had nitrates above 8 ppm and uug the algae, my allergies I can’t do this

♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow

Lol we regularly get nitrates up to 20 ppm in my lake ♻️🦞crawdaddy Follow uhhh you shouldn't be bragging about that, it's really unsafe ♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow suck it you little oligotrophic bitch

🐢snappturt Follow Dear Tumblr, am I the Basshole for the way I catch minnows? I was chatting with some of the guys I bask with and they said the way I catch minnows is problematic; What I do is I sit on the bottom of the lake, I hide myself in the mud and I open my mouth. My tongue looks a lot like a little worm so I wiggle it around- and because of that, minnows swim over and check it out. Once they get close enough, then I bite down and eat them. Some of my rockmates have told me that this is manipulative and toxic behavior- but they also eat minnows...I don't know guys...

🦆tree hole-nester-acorn-eater Follow

is it just me, or is this super homoerotic???

🐟bigpikexxl Follow liveblogging diving down to the bottom

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow dark

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow big log

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow rock

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow kinda cold

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow oh hi @deepwatersculpin!!!

♻️🐠deepwatersculpin Follow oh hey @bigpikexxl!!!

never thought i'd seen one of my mutuals irl!!! I didn't even know we lived in the same lake!!!

🐠Shadlad Follow I'm not sorry, and I'm not afraid to say it, if you're an introduced species, go dry yourself out. You're not welcome to eat up all of our resources and live in my ancestral longs and rock crags. These things are for us to relate to and not for you to squander.

♻️🦞crevice-steve Follow

Can't believe this type of fishcourse is still popular on this site, introduced species didn't choose to be introduced and have as much of a right to live as anyone else. Bigotry against introduced species is still bigotry and that's a hill I will dry on. ♻️🐠Shadlad Follow Go ahead, dry yourself out then ;) ♻️🪷nootnootnewt Follow Hey man, I hate invasive species as much as anyone else but please stop telling people to beach themselves for political reasons- yeah that includes inavsives too ♻️🦐typical_scud Follow Did you legit just use the word Invas*ve to describe introduced species? ♻️🦢flatfootswimmer Follow anyone in this thread eat pondweed?

♻️🐟largemouthbASS Follow A colab with my mutual @2xcrested_cormorant after they got released from the wildlife hospital. They haven't been on much since the Fish and Wildlife Service released them in the wrong lake and it took them a while to get back to their colony. We hope this guide will help you avoid accidentally eating/engaging with bait!

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Yep! I made sure to have a couple white sturgeon clips because of that. Mostly California is just in the song, it’s about Joan Baez and folk music in general! Although, I did originally plan on having a wide shot of California’s river delta, since it’s the actual home of those sturgeons and I usually like to follow along with the song! I even got a clip ready for the video but I ended up feeling a little unsatisfied with it. The original plan was to have a back-and-forth of sturgeon habitat and sturgeons themselves but I think I like this a little better

A video dedicated to the woman ever!

[sabyfangirl]

Chapter 6: To the Creature Rescue!

"Almost there," Aviva bit her lip, typing as fast as she could, "and... Listo!" A brand new, blue disc popped out of the disc maker, ending up in her grasp. "One green sea turtle disc ready to go!"

"Way to go, Aviva!" Koki cheered, before calling back the blue Kratt. "Martin, come in. The disc is ready."

"Finally!" Martin was still swimming, keeping up with the baby sea turtles for DNA activation.

"Send it Jimmy!" Aviva then threw the disc at the napping ginger guy, along with Martin's CPS.

"Huh, wha-" Jimmy suddenly woke up, just in time to catch the disc and the suits, "Woah! Got 'em!" He then placed them on the teleporter. "And zap it!" The items disappeared in the blink of an eye, before reappearing in front of the Kratt in blue.

"Alright, thanks Jimmy!" Martin caught his suit in mid-air, followed by the disc. He threw on his suit. "Insert disc, touch baby animal," his finger rested on one of the sea turtles' tiny heads, "activate green sea turtle power!"

A blast of blue encompassed the Kratt's form, morphing into a humanoid sea turtle. And just like that, he was ready to save the day. "To the creature rescue!" He used his flippers to swim at full speed toward East.

From his point of vew, Chris could see Gourmand getting ready to cook Emerald. His eyes widened as the chef approached the vulnerable creature with...a CLEAVER.

"Gourmand stop!" Chris let out just as he was about to use it. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can!" Gourmand spat, a shred of frustration in his voice. "I'll make a huge profit out of this meal," he grinned.

"Who would want to eat a sea turtle anyway?" Chris asked, in an attempt to buy more time.

"Me, of course, and people who will pay me for it," he shot him a malicious glare, sending chills down the green Kratt's spine. "And now..." He rose the large knife high in the air, Chris' eyes getting teary at the sight, before bringing it down at the turtle's neck.

"NOOO!" Chris looked away, his eyes closed shut, tears slipping from the corners. He waited for the sound of a blade slashing through skin... But it never came. Instead, was a sudden and unexpected-

BAM.

"Ow!" Gourmand shrieked, the cleaver flying out of his hand and into the water. Chris' eyes flew open as he took a look at the situation; Gourmand was holding his hand in pain, a metal object resting on the floor near him. Emerald seemed still alive. Immense relief washed over the green Kratt, followed by confusion.

"Where did that come from?" Gourmand growled, looking around for the source.

"The answer is right here."

A familiar voice came out of nowhere.

"Huh?" Gourmand looked puzzled. "Hey wait a second... I recognize that voice!"

"Martin," whispered Chris.

Out of the water, jumped a big blue turtle-shaped form, which was quickly surrounded by a blast of blue, blinding the chef. The form landed on the floor, not too far from the counter. Gourmand finally looked at the person, to find none other than-

"Blueberry?!" He was both flabbergasted and provoked. "Didn't expect to see yah anytime soon." He adopted a more defensive pose, as if he were preparing himself for a fight.

"Oh yeah, well I'm here to stop you from trying to cook our friend," Martin said proudly, none the wiser to the fact that Gourmand's hand, hidden under the counter, was feeling around for something that would help him deal with the disturbance.

Meanwhile, Martin stole a glance at his brother, then at Emerald; the sight of his hands tide up to that bar, and the creature helplessly lying on its shell rendering his flame of determination burn even stronger.

"Chris, you alright?" he finally asked, receiving a slightly shaken nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chris gave him a faint but reassuring smile.

It was at that moment that the chef found what he was looking for. "Ah hah!" He took out his popular dough blaster, specifically designed for shooting sticky dough at his enemies, immobilizing them in place. Just as he was aiming at him, Martin swiftly backflipped into the water, avoiding the first couple of dough shots on the dot. Gourmand, utterly frustrated that he missed his target, went over to look down for the blue Kratt. Instead, he was met by a familiar blast of blue light, then nothing. He scratched his bald head in perplexity. "Where'd he go?"

On the opposite side of the restaurant, Martin hopped back on it after deactivating his suit yet again; a clever method for dealing with Gourmand. Chris couldn't help but snicker at the scene.

Martin then picked up a random rolling pin on the counter, before whistling. "Looking for someone?" Gourmand quickly turned around to find a mocking expression on the blue Kratt's face, along with the baking utensil at hands with which he was in a sword fighting pose.

Sensing a challenge, he dropped his dough blaster. "So you wanna play," he took out a slotted spoon out of his kitchen utensils' holder, getting in position. "Let's play." His honor was at stake.

The fight commenced; Gourmand lunged at Martin with an intimidating roar, striking down at him with the spoon, his opponent deftly parrying every attack thrown his way, Gourmand continued thrusting his spoon forward in quick movements as he danced around him, the clashing of wood filling the air. "Is that all you got?" Martin laughed, the chef only reacting by feinting a high attack, then quickly switching to a low strike, striking him in the side and sending him crashing into the corner of the restaurant, dropping his weapon in the process. "Not quite," Gourmand smirked as he marched up to the half-conscious Kratt, rising his spoon in the air after performing a flashy flourish.

Chris' eyes widened, his heart racing with panic. "Uhm, Gourmand!" The chef turned to look at him fortunately, temporarily distracted from his objective. "You know those were some- uh, really impressive moves," he managed to say, sounding awfully unconvincing.

Gourmand, however, couldn't help but brag, falling for the trick. "What can I say? I am Gaston Gourmand, the greatest swords fighting chef of all time!" What he didn't notice was Martin slowly regaining himself, his eyes landing on that same dough blaster from before, laying on the floor right next to him. Smoothly, he grabbed it before aiming at the preoccupied chef.

"Huh?" Gourmand suddenly looked down to find his own weapon about to be used on him, but before he could react, dough blasted him on the face, then on the legs. He fell backwards, finally getting a taste of his own medicine. He tried to speak but the dough on his face made it muffled and incomprehensible.

"Way to go, bro!" Chris cheered, Martin getting back on his feet and throwing away the dough blaster.

"It was nothing," he said modestly, filling up a cup of water and going over to pour it on the dough keeping his brother's hands imprisoned. "Thanks." They both looked at Emerald, still on his back and unable to move. "Now let's help the poor guy."

Working together, they lifted the heavy amphibious all the way to the water where he belonged, wiping the sweat off their foreheads and sighing in satisfaction. Their attention was drawn by the sound of Gourmand's struggling to get the dough off his face.

"Let's get outta here, bro!" Martin earged, grabbing his brother's hand and jumping into the water, following Emerald, before reactivating his sea turtle suit. "Hopp on!" he offered, Chris happily riding on his back. "Quick, let's go before Gourmand breaks free from the dough!"

With the help of his flippers, Martin swam as fast as he could, Emerald being his swim mate.

That evening on the beach, near the Tortuga, the crew - Aviva, Koki and Jimmy - were out admiring the calmer waves, glimmering in the sunset, giving off the sensation of peace and tranquillity.

"What a day," Aviva started, "at least everything's back to normal."

"Yeah, Emerald is safe," Koki continued.

"And we got Chris back," Jimmy added.

"And Martin is no longer afraid of swimming," Aviva finished.

"Speaking of those two, where'd they go?" Koki quizzed, Aviva and Jimmy looking at each other cluelessly.

"We don't know," Jimmy shrugged.

Suddenly, they heard familiar voices coming from the sea. The Kratt brothers were spending some quality time with their fellow turtle friend, swimming around and splashing each other like kids, Martin still in his suit.

"There they are," Aviva chuckled, Koki and Jimmy joining in turn.

At last, the brothers were met by a strong and unanticipated wave, sending them both back to shore and crawling out of the sea foam, Martin deactivating through it all. Then they dropped on the sand, laughing hard, the team exchanging amused and content expressions.

Finally, the two creature adventurers got into a sitting position, looking out on the beautiful setting sun behind the waves, illuminating them with golden strings of light, Emerald still joyfully swimming around, not seeming worried about anything. The brothers side hugged, the younger's head resting on the older's shoulder.

"Thanks for the save, bro."

"Don't worry about it."

And the sun disappeared below the horizon, giving way to a new twilight.

First chapter

Previous chapter

[pochaccoups]

things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)

seungcheol —; tell him how good he’s doing

he’s a leo male… please stroke his ego.

tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him “right there,” and “keep going,” and to do it “just like that.”

stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.

be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. don’t be shy about it. it’ll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.

jeonghan —; beg

everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someone—so imagine what he gets like when you’re writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.

“what is it, pretty?” he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. it’s torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him it’s worthwhile.

“wanna cum, hannie,” you whimper.

“hm… i don’t know if i should let you yet,” he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you don’t miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.

“please, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. i’ve been so good,” you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.

you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and he’s sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum after that.

joshua —; make eye contact

his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, he’d tell you that it was gazing into your irises.

it’s also his biggest weakness. from the way you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though you’re only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.

when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesn’t stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.

heat washes over his whole body, he’s gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.

jun —; put his fingers in your mouth

when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.

the effect you have on him is dangerous, because you’re equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and you’re not afraid to show him.

and you love his hands, he knows you do—knows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.

jun’s mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like he’s praying to you, all the while you’re sucking on his finger like a devil.

hoshi —; scratch him

he’s a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.

when he’s got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you can—fingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.

your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.

the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. what’s even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.

wonwoo —; cry

you’re such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and you’re already overstimulated—“but baby, i haven’t even put my cock in you yet,” he’ll coo.

like it’s your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.

by the time he does get inside you, you’re gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because he’s so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that it’s dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends he’s not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.

your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then you’re keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.

woozi —; pull his hair

he’s been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, it’s backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shoulders—and still he doesn’t plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.

when his face is between your legs you’re nothing short of a feral animal—your hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (it’s because he’s about to cream his pants).

when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.

dokyeom —; hold his hand

a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.

he’s losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he can’t bare to look at you—he needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesn’t cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.

and when he fucks you it’s no different—it’s him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, there’s nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.

mingyu —; take control

he’s big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.

but that’s exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.

you can’t exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him he’s not allowed to touch you or you’ll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.

you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and he’ll do just that—and as soon as you utter the words, he’s gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.

minghao —; whisper in his ear

minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him he’s entranced, and he’s always been more of a listener than a talker, and it’s perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.

your voice—minghao’s kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when he’s got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when he’s overseas and he can’t call you. maybe he’ll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.

the final blow is when you’re getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. “please, hao, i’m so close,” you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. “you are too, right? cum for me, please. i’ll cum for you too.”

so he does just that—minghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.

seungkwan —; wrap your legs around him

it’s a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he can’t, constant physical touch is the next best thing.

he likes to think he has relatively good self-control…most of the time. like when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, he’s incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.

somehow he never sees it coming—when your arms are snaked around his neck and you’re holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. “cum inside me, seungkwannie?”

and it’s not like he has much choice with the way you’ve trapped him inside of you, but that’s the very reason why the next second he’s pumping you full, because when it’s you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?

vernon —; touch yourself

it’s not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks you’re the hottest thing alive and he’s so enamoured with you that it’s too much for him sometimes, but you best believe he’ll put his all into holding out just for you.

there are times, however, where he’s just a man. and what’s a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?

and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?

dino —; say ‘i love you’

another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you… the list of things he is around you is endless.

it shows in the way he fucks you—always takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.

where he really doesn’t stand a chance however is when he’s bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with you—so close you’re practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.

his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one another’s sweat and gasps for air. “i love you,” you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.

[teddybeartoji]

“look at me, hm?”

toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone. 

but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.

all of this just because you're jealous.

because the love of his life is jealous. 

toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning. 

you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.

even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will? 

you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.

but it had already taken root. 

that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.

not on your own at least. 

toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you. 

he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it. 

but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free. 

the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.

toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him. 

“please… “

it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“you know you’re the only one for me…” 

the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him. 

“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“do you believe me?”

it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same. 

honesty. 

raw and real.

“yes.”

toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.

“can i kiss you?”

toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything. 

he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him. 

“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”

his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.

"i love you."

[suiana]

I've been thinking about women lately so imagine yandere! sugar mommy 🤤🤤🤤

because i love ceoxpeasant, imagine you're some broke ass barista selling coffees in a tiny coffee shop that's on the brink of closing down. you're living from paycheck to paycheck, scrimping by and skipping meals just to pay the ever rising rent of this capitalist world you live in.

suddenly, you feel the trajectory of your life change when an obviously rich, gorgeous and... very well endowed lady walks into your establishment and gives you 100 dollars for a simple black coffee.

"um here's your change-"

"you can keep it darling."

you were stunned, obviously not knowing what to do other than to awkwardly keep the money back into the cash register as you turn around to make her coffee.

that was until she spoke up.

"you look pathetic. be my sugar baby."

"???"

you drop the coffee beans at her words, staring wide-eyed as she looks you up and down. her expensive suit fitted against her body like it was made just for her, the shining patek watch that glistened under the dim lighting of the store... more importantly, the stern gaze she had and the slight smirk as she leaned towards you.

you had never felt so... naked before. and she wasn't even doing anything other than moving her eyes and stance! wait, did she just call you pathetic?

"hahaha... um, funny joke-"

"i'll pay for all your rent and groceries if you become my pet."

"meow."

and that was how you found yourself leaving your old trashy job and life behind.

you found out that this lady was actually a successful business owner and was older than you were. just a little bit :3

your life had done a complete 360 and you were swimming in riches, going to expensive restaurants as you allowed yourself to be spoiled rotten by your beloved sugar mommy.

sure, some of your friends slowly started to distance themselves from you and you were confused because you did nothing to offend them...

but your sugar mommy told you not to worry about it. not when you had her.

so you listened. you didn't know what it was about her (her money) but you felt this strange urge to just listen to what she said. if she asked you to bark? you'd bark. if she asked you to crawl on all fours? you'd crawl on all fours.

until she made this ridiculous request.

"marry me."

did she actually love you? what? you thought this was just a mutually beneficial relationship you two had! like, you please her and she throws money and riches at you?? why is she asking for-

"hahaha... um, no?"

"funny way of saying yes, my love."

she stares ta you, eyes burning into you soul as you nervously shift in front of her.

gyatt damn what were you supposed to do? you couldn't disagree now could you? as much as you didn't want to marry her- wait what is she doing? why is she grabbing your hand and placing a pen-

"I've grown exceptionally fond of you, my dear. my heart belongs to you."

wait wait wait, what is she doing?! is that marriage documents?! stop stop-

"just the thought of seeing you with others brings me immense discomfort. so much so that i physically feel ill, darling."

her voice is like honey, yet her actions feel like claws digging into your skin as she forces your signature onto the paper.

"i am afraid i cannot let you go."

oh no, what have you gotten yourself into?

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

[garnet-xx-rose]

I think Christine should’ve bitten Erik at least once. Or threaten him with a knife.

He would’ve been into it for sure and it adds more spice to the story.

in my opinion we need more christine daaes who are portrayed as viciously insane. discuss

[gremlingottoosilly]

sea bunny reader who constantly clings onto monster konig? 🥺🥺

It's only natural, really. You're small and weak, you're a bottom feeder who isn't used to having predators all around you...and even if you did have someone on your tail, you'd just have to roll on your tummy and die. It's natural selection, really, one of the reasons why you were sticking to the safe, warm waters and never going to the dark depths of the ocean floor. You were just fine in your lukewarm little kingdom. Until Konig swooped in and took you away, that is. You know why he did this, it's natural - he saw a pretty thing, he took a pretty thing. There are predators about in the depths of his dwelling, and so he never lets you stray too far from the cave he keeps you in. Not like you wanted to - you're clinging to him like a real bunny, a forgotten species of clingy sea kitten who needs the warmth of his body to survive. You didn't even want to let go of him the first few times he let you swim freely, out of the cave. You'd just nuzzle your face in his chest, pushing your body closer to him and wordlessly begging him to not let go of you. There was always a tentacle or two on your limbs, carefully caressing and keeping you in place. The temperature of his territory is way too low for you, so you'd always cling to Konig in an attempt to keep your warmth. It doesn't help that he would always let you just stay in his arms, either - sometimes you're not even swimming for a second, instead opting to curl down in his arms. He is big and strong - a perfect mate, as much as your body understands that eldritch creatures and sea bunnies shouldn't actually mingle. You still open your legs for him, meowling his name ever so sweetly and carefully, letting him fuck you like a pretty helpless thing you are, clinging to him for protection. You're way too precious to swim alone, and so he acts as your protector...even in cases when he is the one you should be afraid of. It's a good thing you're actually just a tad bit dumb.

[shaiyasstuff]

red | zayne | prologue to through the fire

synopsis : Fate chose another, but his heart never stopped choosing you. content : soulmate!au, zayne x reader x sylus, zayne x non-mc!reader, unrequited love, angst (light or not, you decide)

read : through the fire

Shaiya

Zayne stared at the name etched into his skin, barely brushing his fingers over the letters as if touching it would somehow make it less real.

Silence crashed around him like a wave. The world dimmed.

No, he thought, chest tightening. It should’ve been her name.

Yours.

He wanted to claw at it, to tear it off and rewrite the universe.

But all he did was stare—still, quiet, unreadable. His face gave nothing away, though his heart was screaming.

You didn’t cry when he told you.

He had expected the silence. Maybe even anger.

But not the way you reached for him, pulling him into a soft embrace as if you were the one offering comfort.

As if you were the one letting go.

You smiled.

And that broke him in ways he couldn’t explain.

He held you too tightly for a moment too long, afraid that if he let go, everything between you would unravel.

Then he forced a smile—calm, polite, practiced. Like he was happy. Like this wasn’t the end of something sacred.

But he wasn’t.

He didn’t love Shaiya—not then. There was no spark, no fireworks when he first saw her in the park.

There was just you.

You, with your quiet steadiness, your silent understanding. You, who noticed every flicker of emotion on his face, even when no one else did. You, who knew how to wait through his silences.

But something kept pulling him back to Shaiya. A whisper in his gut. A gravitational force he couldn’t explain.

So he went.

And when she laughed, something in him stirred. When she smiled, he felt breathless. Her presence, soft and bright, wrapped around him like a tether he hadn’t asked for—but couldn’t ignore.

It wasn’t like with you.

With you, it was slow, quiet, real.

With her, it was sudden—like being caught in a current he couldn’t swim against.

And yet, even as he sat beside Shaiya, laughing at something she said, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting.

Back to you.

Back to the way you smiled without expectation. Back to the warmth of your hug.

Back to everything he was afraid he’d just lost.

—•

“Zayne? You there?”

He jolted upright at the sound of Shaiya’s voice through the phone, pulled sharply from the spiral of thoughts he hadn’t realized he’d fallen into.

He cleared his throat, forcing steadiness into his voice. “Yeah. Sorry—I was signing some reports.”

A lie, smooth and effortless.

Shaiya laughed lightly, the sound soft through the speaker.

“It’s okay.”

Then, after a beat, her tone shifted, quieter. Concerned. “I’m a little worried about Y/N. She’s been… distant lately.”

That made him still. Completely.

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice low. His fingers curled against the edge of the desk.

Shaiya hesitated. “She spaces out sometimes. When I talk to her, she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I caught her clutching her wrist the other day—I think she might be hurt, but she brushed it off.”

Zayne didn’t hear the rest. Her voice faded under the weight of his thoughts.

How hadn’t he noticed?

You, the one person he thought he always saw clearly. The one whose silences he understood. He’d been so caught in the chaos of his own confusion that he hadn’t seen you unraveling in the quiet.

He swallowed, guilt settling in like a stone. “I’ll talk to her,” he murmured.

“Okay,” Shaiya replied, her voice soft again. “I’m heading to bed now—early shift tomorrow. Don’t forget to eat after yours.”

The line disconnected, and silence bloomed in the space it left behind.

He sat for a moment, staring at nothing. Then he stood.

Before he could talk himself out of it, his feet carried him across the corridor.

He stopped in front of your door. Raised his hand. Hesitated.

Did you have a mark yet?

The thought hit him like a wave.

And somewhere—deep and cruel and honest—a voice inside him whispered that he hoped you didn’t. That maybe, if fate had overlooked you too, you’d still stay.

That you’d still look at him the way you always had.

That he wouldn’t lose you completely.

But even he knew that was selfish.

So he knocked, softly.

No reply.

The door creaked open.

He stepped inside, meaning to call your name, to ask if you were alright—but the words never made it past his lips.

You were asleep, curled up at your desk, your breathing steady. Peaceful.

And then he saw it.

A flash of red ink on your wrist.

His name.

His breath caught.

Everything in him stilled.

This—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

His name was on your skin. In red. And he hadn’t even known.

He stumbled back like the air had turned to fire, his legs moving before he could think.

The door slammed behind him as he pressed his back against it, chest rising and falling in erratic waves.

That’s why.

That’s why you’d been pulling away. Why you smiled like it hurt. Why you never said a word.

Because it did hurt.

And all this time, he’d been too blind to see it.

Tears stung his eyes, blurring the fluorescent lights of his office as he clenched his fists at his sides.

You had been burning alone. Crying alone.

And now that he knew—

There was still nothing he could do.

—•

He saw you.

It was late—close to midnight—when he stepped out of his car, bone-tired from another shift.

The streets were quiet, bathed in the soft yellow haze of flickering streetlamps.

And there you were.

Leaving your apartment, coat hastily thrown on, arms folded tightly around yourself like you were holding yourself together.

Zayne froze, half in the shadow of the trees lining the sidewalk.

He meant to call out. Your name was already on the tip of his tongue.

But then he saw your face.

Not just the weariness, but something sharper—something broken.

Sadness. Anger. Resignation.

And suddenly, he couldn’t speak.

Because he knew—

He knew it was because of him.

So he stayed silent.

Just watched.

He followed your steps with his eyes as you crossed the street, your pace slow, unsteady.

The city was quiet around you, but inside, you were a storm. He could see it. He felt it in the way your shoulders sank.

You disappeared into the dim glow of a small pub tucked between closed storefronts.

He didn’t go in.

He stood across the street, leaning against the hood of his car like a coward, watching through the window as you made your way to the bar.

Sluggish. Heavy.

He saw your hand signal the bartender. Saw the first drink vanish. Then the second. Then the third.

His chest tightened with every empty glass.

Because it was his fault.

He was the reason you were unraveling one drink at a time. The reason your mark burned red with his name while he bore someone else’s in black.

Then—

He saw him.

A stranger. Tall. Pale hair that glinted under the bar’s low lighting.

Zayne’s breath caught as he watched the man slide onto the stool beside you, say something with a smile, and slide across a piece of paper.

He saw your smile falter. Saw the pain flicker across your features like lightning.

Saw the way your body flinched, just barely, like a wound had been pressed too hard.

And Zayne saw it all.

Every agonizing detail.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t cross the street. Didn’t pull open the door.

He couldn’t.

Because what would he say?

What right did he have?

He stood there, paralyzed in the dark, watching you turn away from the man politely, watching you order another drink with trembling fingers.

And he hated himself more with every breath.

—•

Two days later, he stepped into your office.

The door clicked softly behind him, and for a moment, he simply stood there—watching you work, your shoulders tense, eyes tired in that way only he seemed to notice.

He cleared his throat gently. “Long day?”

His voice was calm, casual, as he placed a cup of coffee on your desk like it was just another routine between colleagues.

You looked up and offered him a smile—soft, warm, as if nothing had changed. As if nothing had shattered between you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, fingers curling around the warmth of the cup.

It hurt.

Because he saw it now—what he’d missed before.

The subtle flinch when your skin brushed the sleeve of your sweater.

The split-second delay in your smile. The way you didn’t quite meet his eyes.

He swallowed. The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“I saw you out. Two nights ago.”

The air shifted.

You stilled for a fraction of a second, but didn’t look away.

He wished he hadn’t said it, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t just worried. He was jealous.

His jaw tightened as he brought his coffee to his lips. “Were you drinking again?”

His voice cracked—just barely—but enough to betray him.

You blinked. Then turned your gaze to the window, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Just needed some air. That’s all.”

And then, as if your body hadn’t yet caught up with your lie, your fingers drifted down, brushing against your wrist—so faintly it would’ve gone unnoticed.

But he saw it.

He always saw you.

He opened his mouth, something sharp and aching rising in his throat.

But he bit it back.

The truth. The apology. The longing.

None of it would fix what fate had done.

So he stepped back.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” he said, turning on his heel before the tremble in his voice could betray him again.

And he walked away.

Because what else could he say?

When it was his name on your wrist.

And someone else’s on his.

—•

A week later, he stood motionless in his office, staring blankly at the floor.

Shaiya’s voice still echoed in his ears.

“She found her soulmate.”

His heart didn’t sink—it clenched. Like something inside him had braced for a blow and still wasn’t ready for the impact.

He didn’t believe it.

Not for a second.

Because he knew you.

Knew the kind of lies people told when they were trying to protect themselves from pain.

Before reason could stop him, his body had already moved. He found himself standing in front of your office again, just like he had so many times before—only now there was something different clinging to the air.

A desperation he couldn’t admit.

He wanted to shake you. To ask why.

Why you were doing this to yourself. To him.

Why you were pretending this didn’t hurt when everything in your eyes told him otherwise.

But he said none of that.

Instead, he knocked gently and stepped in.

You looked up at him, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

Because you smiled. Small. Warm.

As if nothing had changed.

As if it didn’t ache.

And that only made it worse.

“I heard from Shaiya,” he said, voice low, too even. “You found him?”

You nodded, the gesture soft, almost apologetic. “Yeah.”

His mouth parted slightly, like there was something he needed to say—but the words caught halfway.

“That’s… good,” he said finally. But the pause before the word good was a wound all on its own.

It hung in the air. Heavy.

And it wasn’t joy that colored his tone. Not even relief.

There was something else.

You blinked, startled by the hollowness of it. “Is everything okay?”

Zayne looked at you, long and quiet, his gaze searching your face like it held an answer to something he couldn’t name.

Then, slowly, the mask returned.

A neutral expression. The kind he wore in operating rooms. In grief.

“Yes,” he replied, forcing the edges of his mouth to lift. “I’m just… glad for you.”

But even you could hear it.

The tremor beneath the stillness. The way glad didn’t quite land.

Silence stretched.

Zayne looked away for a moment, then back—eyes flickering with something raw, something not yet buried deep enough.

And still—he said nothing.

Because what could he say, when it was his name on your skin—

And someone else’s story you were trying to live?

When Zayne stepped out of your office, his chest tight and throat dry, he nearly walked past him—

The man from the bar.

Tall, silver-haired, with that same calm presence that had unsettled him days ago.

This time, he stood waiting. Expecting him.

“I’m Sylus,” the man said coolly, offering nothing more than his name—because he knew it was enough.

Zayne stopped mid-stride.

His eyes widened for a brief second before narrowing into something colder. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white.

He remembered that night.

The flash of your pain. The way Sylus had leaned in, close but careful, like he knew exactly how much space to take.

Zayne’s jaw tightened.

“Take care of her,” he said, voice sharp but restrained. Controlled. Like a blade held at the throat but never pressed in.

Then he turned without waiting for a reply, shoulders stiff, the weight of what he couldn’t say trailing behind him like a shadow.

But if he had stayed just a second longer—

He would’ve seen it.

The slow, knowing smirk tugging at Sylus’s lips.

Not arrogant, not mocking—just assured.

A look that said he would.

And maybe even more than that—

That he already was.

—•

The hospital hallway was quiet at this hour—just the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the echo of distant footsteps.

Zayne stood alone in the on-call room, the door shut behind him, the walls far too close.

He leaned against the locker, head tipped back, eyes closed.

But the silence wasn’t peace.

It was suffocating.

She found someone.

She said she found her soulmate.

The words circled in his mind like vultures, tearing into the edges of his restraint.

He clenched his fists, breathing slow—too slow, like he was trying to stay afloat in his own chest.

Sylus.

The name had weight now. It wasn’t just a stranger from the bar anymore—it was someone you had chosen. Someone who made you smile, even through the ache.

Someone who could stand beside you without carrying the guilt Zayne did.

His hand lifted without thinking, pressing to his chest like he could calm the sharp, twisting ache there.

He didn’t understand it.

Why did the mark choose Shaiya?

Why not her?

Why not you?

Because if the universe had any sense of justice, it would’ve branded your name into his skin.

Not someone else’s.

Not someone he had to learn to care about.

Not someone who wasn’t you.

Zayne sank onto the bench, elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair.

His shoulders hunched in on himself, like the weight of everything was finally catching up.

All the moments he’d brushed aside.

The quiet hurt in your eyes.

The way you smiled like you were trying to protect him.

He remembered the night he saw you drinking, the way you flinched when Sylus got too close, the pain you thought no one saw.

And he had done nothing.

He had stood there, watching.

Helpless.

His name was on your wrist. In red.

And it didn’t matter.

Because fate had already played its cruel joke—and he had laughed along with it, pretending he could live with it. Pretending he was fine.

But he wasn’t.

He had spent so long mastering silence, mastering stillness—he didn’t know how to fight for something that wasn’t supposed to be his.

His breath trembled, a rare crack in the mask he wore even when no one was watching.

He wanted to scream.

To demand answers from whatever force had decided this was how the story would end.

But all he could do was sit there.

In a quiet room.

With your name echoing like a phantom in his chest.

And nothing he could do to make you stay.

[bluemoonscape]

No no listennnn it’s the way Obi-Wan drags out the first ‘a’ in Anakin’s name. It’s the way everyone else ignores the hyphen in Obi-Wan’s name and runs it all together but Anakin pronounces every syllable slowly and clearly. It’s how Anakin was the only constant in Obi-Wan’s life from the time Qui-Gon died, how he threw all of his energy into keeping Anakin safe and sheltered, because he’d already seen too many horrors as a slave. It’s about how Anakin went to Obi-Wan’s room every night for a year because he was afraid he would disappear like Qui-Gon and his mom, and Obi-Wan lost sleep because he doesn’t know how to swim. It’s how Anakin grumbled and complained about Obi-Wan’s teaching to others because his feelings were so muddled and confused and yet he would die for him in a heartbeat and thrived on his approval. How Anakin, hours after losing his mom horrifically and suddenly, threw himself into a battle with Count Dooku on Geonosis and lost his arm to save Obi-Wan because he couldn’t lose him too. How Obi-Wan tried to steer Anakin from attachment but in the process became irrevocably attached himself, admitting multiple times to loving Anakin, passing down the gift his own Master gave him for his birthday years ago that meant nothing to Obi-Wan when he got it but meant everything to Anakin because it was from Obi-Wan, holding onto Anakin’s lightsaber and cloak when all else of him was lost, taking care of his children because they were living pieces of him. It’s that they called each other and asked after the other constantly when they’re apart during the Clone Wars. It’s that Ahsoka was technically Anakin’s Padawan but they thought of her as theirs and she called them her parents to others. It’s the little things like Anakin modifying Obi-Wan’s R4 droid to look like his own R2 unit. It’s the big things like them being able to sense one another from lightyears away even after Anakin turns. It’s Obi-Wan willfully turning a blind eye to Anakin’s violations of the code because he wanted him to be happy more than he wanted him to be a good Jedi. Anakin still referring to him as “Master” even after their apprenticeship is over, to their last battle; Anakin wishing that Obi-Wan would stay with him in his time of need rather than go to fight General Grievous and end the war; that they were the greatest Jedi to live, at the end of the age of heroes, “the best for last” and they were so insanely, disgustingly, beyond attached despite the Code’s teachings on what made a Jedi good, and they were the best. They were the best because they were together. Because they were Kenobi and Skywalker and that became one name, the name of the Open Circle Fleet, name of the greatest duo the Jedi had ever seen. I consider almost nothing from the sequel trilogy canon EXCEPT for the force dyad because you can’t tell me they weren’t one and never even knew because that was just how they were. They just figured they matched each other’s freak too hard. That’s just them.