#and I really do think that it is going to be absolutely astonishing

[itspileofgoodthings]

tags continued from prev post.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[xazse]

I don’t know about the anon but I freaked out when I saw the new fic. It was so good 🤤. I love how you’re giving us so much content nowadays and I’m here for it! Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could figure something out for snow leopard Gojo and cat hybrid reader (him as a cat jest feels right) ? Imagine Satoru having this in mind ever since he saw you, I mean, big cats mate practically for the solo reason of breeding ?and he's no different- having many pups is a necessity to prove you're his and the best way to show how much he adores you! He’d be very protective about you while you’re carrying, never stepping away from your side and he’s become so needy too because you smell so divine with all those hormones to him.

It makes me think back to that kitty tiger fic where he would lick her and I see this as a continuation of short!

Well, not really since I mentioned a leopard but honestly if you did a tiger and really wrote it as a continuation l'd be thrilled. Do you think you’ll write more because I’d love some Satoru tiger/leopard fics. Have a nice day lovely 💕

Notes: SORRY ITS SO SHORT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I HAD FUN WRITING IT!!

Warnings: Pantysniffing + breeding + hybrids + little hybrids + pregnancy + overprotective!Satoru

Pairings: SnowLeopardSatoru + KittyHybrid!Reader

Oh yes of course SnowLeopard!Satoru was in love the day Suguru brought you home, you smelled of that icky place but eventually when you got comfortable he began cleaning you of that filthy, licking you everywhere to ensure you smelled exactly like him.

After scenting you to smell just like the touching started, it starts small with Satoru laying you in his lap or letting you stroke his hair until it got even more physical he was having you bent over balls deep inside of you, this became a daily occurrence where he’d pump you full load after load.

The leopard loved you so much, of course when you started showing signs of morning sickness he was so damn excited, well when he had said that you gave him the nastiest look ever but he had to phrase it as he was excited for the baby!

The first few months were absolute hell for you, Satoru could not and would not leave you alone, he insisted mining everything and anything with you.

You needed a shower? He’s in there helping you get in places your cute little belly prevents even in public he’s always making sure your near him, he keeps a tight grip on your arm so he doesn’t lose you.

He also keeps close because you smell, so fucking good, it drives him damn insane, he keeps you in his lap for hours just sniffing your neck or even having your legs wrapped around his head so he can smell your cunt.

He loves getting into your dirty laundry and smelling your panties, who cares if you catch him jerking off with it around his fat cock, he’ll look you dead in your face as you slowly close the door to let him have that privacy, he can’t fuck your pussy like he used to anymore so this’ll do.

When the babies come it’s so hectic around the house, you and Satoru are constantly chasing the little ones around, they don’t give either of you a break some days. It’s so cute to see how they look exactly like Satoru in some ways, two of them have his hair and the third one looks exactly like you, a carbon copy is what she is.

Their little ears and tail swish behind them so freaking cute, the amount of photos Satoru has in his phone is astonishing, he also posts them on his instagram always, everytime, Suguru also does his hair share with helping with them when you and Satoru are stressed. He’s like their uncle and it’s so adorable to see them braiding his hair or him reading to them.

When you finally get alone time, Satoru’s fucking you like he wants to put even more babies in you, the way he’s groaning is so damn loud it pairs with the way you sound when both of you meet in the middle, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t fucking back on him just as hard, it’s already been multiple orgasms and you’re both still going at it.

[annleckie]

So I got this book out of the library, about Babylon, and it immediately put me off by the way it talks about how the ancient Mesopotamians were the FIRST EVAR to want to IMPROVE THEIR LIVES so they made cities and it was a RADICAL BREAK from the past and has the author mentioned how they were the FIRST EVAR and all the people around mired in the past just doing things the way grandpa and grandma always did because it never occurred to them to improve their lives must have been astonished and everyone clapped?

Like, I'm here for talking up ancient cities and all, but seriously? Nobody else ever made cities? No one invented anything until Uruk? No one has since without following a Mesopotamian example? REALLY???

But then I came across this picture (I was flipping ahead to the glossy pages with photos, as you do)

It's a picture of a clay bowl. Clearly not made on a wheel, uneven, but with its own kind of charm to it. And the caption says, "The aesthetic deprivation of the non-elite: Crudely moulded bevelled-rim bowls are found all over Mesopotamia, dating from the Uruk era--fourth millenium BCE"

I just....I just can't. Aesthetic deprivation. Because it doesn't match your idea of Fancy. Because maybe you think non-elite aesthetics are just garbage.

I know nothing about the aesthetic goals of the potter who made this bowl, I just hate the person who wrote the caption too much to finish reading the book. It's absolutely on me. I'm sure he's a lovely person, I wish him well in his life, but I can't continue reading. Back to the library you go.

[solxamber]

haii can i req octotrio, malleus, and leona (all seperate!) with a reader like kokomi from genshin thats also a jellyfish? romantic or not it doesn’t matter to me ^_^ also feel free to add more characters the more the merrier :3

Leona, Octatrio, Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Rook, Rollo x Kokomi!Jellyfish!Reader

a/n; i felt pretty inspired so i added quite a few <3

Leona Kingscholar

Leona pretends he’s indifferent, but your serene and calculated demeanor throws him off.

The first time he sees your glowing form under the moonlight, he blinks twice, convinced he’s hallucinating. “Tch, what’s with the light show? Trying to blind me or something?” But secretly, he’s mesmerized.

Your habit of calmly handling disputes in the dorm (often between Ruggie and others) frustrates him. “You can’t just talk people into behaving,” he grumbles, only to watch you succeed every time.

Leona’s competitive side comes out when he learns about your strategic mind. Chess games with you become a weekly ritual, and losing to you annoys him more than he’ll admit.

Despite his gruffness, he’s deeply protective of you, especially when someone comments on your jellyfish-like features. “Say that again, and I’ll show you why you don’t mess with jellyfish.”

Sometimes, he watches you float gracefully in water, pretending he’s there for a nap. “Stop staring at me, Leona.” “Who’s staring? I’m just resting my eyes.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is immediately intrigued by your jellyfish traits and calm demeanor—after all, you’re a marine creature, and that’s his territory.

Your bioluminescence is something he secretly envies, though he’ll never admit it. “A marvelous ability,” he says while scribbling notes for future contracts.

Your strategic thinking makes you one of the few people who can keep up with him in negotiations. He offers you a job at the Lounge almost immediately, “to better utilize your talents.”

Whenever Floyd or Jade annoys him, Azul uses you as a buffer. “Perhaps you could… calm them down?” And, to his astonishment, it works. Even Floyd listens to you.

He’s absolutely fascinated by your glowing hair and jellyfish-like appendages. “Do they serve a specific function, or are they purely aesthetic?” he asks while trying not to sound overly eager.

Azul secretly finds your tranquil nature soothing. After a long day of scheming, he’ll seek your company under the guise of “strategic discussions,” but really, he just wants to hear your voice.

Jade Leech

Jade is utterly fascinated by you from the moment he meets you. Your resemblance to a jellyfish sparks his curiosity.

He constantly asks you questions about your biology, glowing abilities, and lifestyle. “Do you use your bioluminescence to lure prey, or is it purely decorative?”

Jade enjoys teasing you, especially when you’re peacefully floating in water. “You look so serene. It’s almost a shame to disturb you.” Then he splashes you.

He respects your calm and collected demeanor, but he’s determined to find out what flusters you. Watching your serene mask slip is his new favorite pastime.

If someone dares insult you, Jade’s smile grows even sharper. “I wouldn’t recommend making an enemy of a jellyfish, you know. They’re far more dangerous than they appear.”

He enjoys your company during his hikes, fascinated by how your glowing presence adds an ethereal beauty to the forest.

Floyd Leech

Floyd is absolutely obsessed with you. You’re a jellyfish, and jellyfish are cool—end of story.

He immediately nicknames you “Jelly,” much to your mild exasperation. “C’mon, Jelly! Let’s go do something fun!”

Floyd loves poking at your glowing features. “What happens if I touch this? Will it zap me?” (You have to swat his hand away repeatedly.)

Your calm nature intrigues him. “How do you stay so chill all the time? Don’t you ever wanna, like, flip out?” He sees it as a personal challenge to get you riled up.

He’s oddly protective of you. If anyone messes with you, Floyd’s mood sours instantly, and you have to calm him down before he does something drastic.

Floyd loves dragging you into the water to “swim like real jellyfish.” His playful nature contrasts hilariously with your serene floating.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus finds you absolutely enchanting. Your ethereal glow and calm presence remind him of a fairytale.

The first time he sees you glowing in the dark, he’s convinced you’re some sort of spirit. “Are you a creature of the night, summoned by the stars?” You laugh, which only confuses him more.

He adores your serene demeanor and often seeks your company when he’s feeling lonely. “You have a calming presence. It is… soothing.”

Your strategic mind impresses him. He occasionally consults you on matters of state, and your insight leaves him in awe.

Malleus is enchanted by your glowing features and bioluminescence. He often compares you to the stars and moon. “You shine as brightly as the night sky,” he says, his voice soft.

He’s protective of you, especially when others don’t understand your unique traits. “Anyone who dares mock your beauty will answer to me,” he declares, his aura dark and foreboding.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is equal parts fascinated and exasperated by your serene and dreamy nature.

He struggles to reconcile your gentle demeanor with the strict order he upholds. “You can’t just let them get away with breaking rules.” But you always seem to handle things so effortlessly, he can’t help but feel a little envious.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he’s stunned. “W-What are you glowing for? Is that some sort of trick?” He secretly thinks it’s mesmerizing.

Your calmness has a soothing effect on him during his temperamental moments. When you gently suggest he take a deep breath, he can’t find it in himself to argue.

Your strategic mind earns his respect, especially when you help him resolve dorm conflicts with minimal drama. He finds himself seeking your counsel more often than he’d like to admit.

He tries to deny how much your presence comforts him, but when you glow softly under the moonlight, he’s reminded of the beauty of following one’s heart.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil finds you utterly captivating, both for your glowing beauty and your ability to remain so composed under pressure.

He immediately notices your bioluminescence and praises it as “natural elegance.” He may even use it as inspiration for his next photoshoot.

Vil admires your calm demeanor but insists on refining your presentation. “Grace comes naturally to you, but you must carry it with intention.”

Your ability to remain poised even under stress makes him jealous sometimes. He spends hours perfecting himself while you seem effortlessly radiant.

The two of you often engage in long conversations about leadership and balance. He’s impressed by your thoughtful insight, though he won’t always admit it.

He pretends not to care when others praise your ethereal glow, but he can’t help but feel proud, especially when you stand by his side at events.

Rook Hunt

Rook is absolutely enchanted by your jellyfish-inspired traits and ethereal aura.

The first time he sees your bioluminescence, he dramatically declares, “Magnifique! You are a creature of the heavens, a glowing gem beneath the sea!”

Rook constantly watches you, fascinated by the way you move and speak. He calls it research, but it’s really just admiration.

Your calmness intrigues him. He frequently tests your patience with his flamboyant antics, but you never falter, much to his delight.

He adores how your strategic mind contrasts with your soft demeanor. “You are as cunning as you are serene, ma chérie méduse.”

Rook writes poems inspired by your bioluminescent glow, claiming that no words could ever truly capture your beauty.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo is conflicted about you. Your calm, composed nature intrigues him, but your glowing features remind him of magic—something he loathes.

The first time he sees you glowing, he’s visibly unsettled. “Is this some kind of magic trick? I don’t trust it.” Yet, he can’t look away.

Your tranquil demeanor softens his usual disdain. He begrudgingly admits that you’re… tolerable, though his fascination with you grows daily.

Rollo’s jealousy flares whenever others praise your ethereal beauty. “They’re only bewitched by appearances,” he mutters, trying to convince himself he’s not affected.

Your intelligence earns his respect, though he won’t openly say it. He finds himself relying on your calm judgment more than he’d like.

Despite his feelings about magic, he catches himself enjoying the way your glow lights up dark spaces. It’s almost… comforting.

Masterlist

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Legolas and Aragorn discovering that you have hidden a dragon…

The forest was meant to be empty. You had been sure of that when you snuck away from Rivendell. You walked the memorised pathway through tall trees until you reached your secret - a large, fire-breathing secret.

It was a happy greeting now that the large winged creature had warmed to your presence... that is, until you heard a sharp inhale of breath and whipped around to see the wide-eyes of Legolas.

He had seen too much and so, without thinking, you grabbed the Woodland prince and slammed him against a tree trunk quickly. Concealing the two of you before Legolas cried out in surprise and startled the fire-breathing beast in your care.

“If you breathe a word of this to Lord Elrond, I will snap your bow.” You warned. An empty threat but but you had almost broken the strings on his weapon once before.

Pressing a finger into his chest, you caught the way his eyes travelled to the winged-creature with curiosity. It was astonishing that you managed to hide a magnificent beast under the nose of all elves.

But nonetheless, you couldn’t keep the secret for much longer. You sensed his dilemma and realised that the first person he’d go to would be his best friend.

Moving the finger to his face, you frowned sternly. “And you cannot tell Aragorn.”

Another set of footsteps sounded. “Tell me what?”

You had been so fixated on the elf that you did not realise that Aragorn had followed his friends. “You need to learn to cover your tracks for secret meetings and-”

His words fell flat when his blue eyes darted to the white dragon moving to sit up at the newest voice. It lazily stretched its wings, snapping a few frail branches in the process.

“That is - is that a...?”

Pushing away from Legolas, you addressed your friend and future king.

“Yes. It is a dragon.” You answered for him but Aragorn stared in awe and stepped closer.

“A true and tame dragon. This is remarkable.”

Legolas’ eyes blew wide and he frowned. “Do not encourage this behaviour. There is a large beast in the forest of Rivendell and when Lord Elrond discovers this secret, we will seem to have aided in this foolishness.”

You frowned at the elf. “This was not foolish. Would you rather I have left the poor creature to fend for itself and hope that Sauron’s forces did not find it? The Nazgûl already have their beasts. Now, so do we.”

Ever the voice of reason, Aragorn stepped forward. “Be that as it may, we really should tell Elrond about this.”

“Absolutely not. This was my secret until the two of you decided to walk just a bit further. There will be no disclosing of this to anyone. Not Gandalf, not Arwen, and certainly not Elrond. Am I clear?”

The man and woodland prince glanced at one another quite unsure with this plan. But with some reluctance, they chose to keep your secret for some time longer.

~~~

Gandalf picked up his cup of tea and chuckled at Elrond’s latest tale about adventures with Galadriel in their youth. The wizard looked out toward the forest and sighed.

“We ought to do something about that dragon. It is taking all my resources to keep that creature hidden.” Elrond said as he refilled his cup.

“Perhaps.” Gandalf began. “However, I am very curious to see how long this secret can be kept before they request for help.”

~ More imagines here ~

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hi ivy! For the holiday enemies to lovers prompts can you do 1,3,4 with Theo nott? Ofc you don’t have to use all of them if you don’t want to! Those 3 really stood out to me and I couldn’t pick just one 😅 thank you lovely!

SO, WHAT DOES THEODORE NOTT LIKE?.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ T. NOTT

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since you picked theodore nott for secret santa, you've been in absolute denial about caring. you’re definitely not going out of your way to find the perfect gift, and you’re absolutely not asking his friends totally casual questions about his interests. but when you find out he’s staying at hogwarts for the holidays, you can’t help but pry—and somehow, along the way, you might just end up learning more about him than you ever planned to

WARNINGS ಇ. a very dramatic and nosy hufflepuff, flustered moments, and a slight identity crisis when you realize you might actually like him MORE OF THESE TWO ￫ ୨ৎ A/N ಇ. assuming this is your request @astonishment, thank you so much requesting! hope you like it ‹𝟹

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,673

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

There were exactly 47 hours and 12 minutes until the Hogwarts Secret Santa reveal, and you were on the verge of losing your entire mind.

Why? Because you had drawn Theodore freaking Nott as your Secret Santa recipient. Of all the people at Hogwarts, it had to be him: the cold, brooding, insufferable Slytherin who looked at you like you were the human embodiment of an unwashed sock.

“I’m cursed,” you moaned dramatically, sprawled across the couch in the Hufflepuff common room. “There’s no other explanation.”

From her chair by the fireplace, your friend Sarah barely looked up from her book. “What are you on about now?”

“My life is over,” you said, tossing an arm across your eyes for good measure. “I’ve been assigned him. The human icicle. The walking void of emotion.”

Sarah blinked. “You got Theodore Nott?”

You bolted upright, grabbing her arm like she’d just offered to save you from a sinking ship. “What do I do, Sarah?! What do you get someone who hates everything? A rock? A lump of coal?”

“Well…” Sarah started, but you were already off the couch and pacing.

“He’s going to hate anything I give him,” you wailed, hands flailing. “But I can’t not give him something because then I’ll look like a terrible person, and I’m not a terrible person, Sarah! I’m a Hufflepuff! We are legally obligated to be nice!”

“Legally?” Sarah said dryly, but you ignored her.

“And I can’t ask him what he likes because then he’ll know it’s me, and then he’ll think I’m stalking him, and—oh my gosh, what if he reports me to Snape?!”

“You’re spiralling,” Sarah said, but you were already halfway out the door.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Step one in your (brilliant, totally foolproof) plan was to interrogate Theodore’s friends. Casually. Subtly. Like a normal person.

Spoiler: You were not a normal person.

“Enzo!” you said brightly, sliding into the seat next to Lorenzo Berkshire at breakfast. “How’s it going? How’s life? How are your socks? Warm? Good. So, what does Theodore Nott like?”

Lorenzo froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “What?”

“You know, hobbies, interests, favorite snacks, deepest fears,” you said, waving a hand. “The usual.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, no reason!” You laughed—a little too loudly. “Just curious.”

“Is this for Secret Santa?” he asked, smirking. “Wait. Did you get Theo? Merlin’s beard, you got Theo!”

“NO!” you practically yelled, nearly knocking over your pumpkin juice. “Of course not! That would be absurd. Ha! Ha ha ha!”

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Am not!” you huffed. “I’m just… conducting a holiday-themed survey. For… science.”

“For science?” he repeated, amused. “Right. Well, Sunshine, if you’re so curious about Theo, why don’t you just ask him?”

“BECAUSE!” You threw your hands in the air. “He’s scary, Enzo! He’ll probably hex me or—I don’t know—stare at me with those stupid intense eyes of his.”

“His stupid intense eyes?” Enzo grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“WHAT?!” You nearly fell out of your chair. “I don’t like him! I despise him! He’s rude and annoying and—ugh—he breathes too smugly!”

“Sure,” Enzo said, clearly not convinced. “Whatever you say, Sunshine.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were nothing if not persistent. So, against your better judgment, you cornered Theodore himself in the library.

“What are you doing for the holidays?” you asked, plopping into the chair across from him.

Theodore didn’t even look up from his book. “Why do you ask and/or care?”

“I don’t care,” you said quickly. “I was just… wondering.”

He finally glanced at you, one dark eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Because I’m nice,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “And curious. And it’s the holidays! Aren’t we supposed to, like, bond or something?”

“I’d rather not,” he said, turning a page.

You scowled. “Wow. You really know how to spread holiday cheer, don’t you?”

“Was there a point to this?” he asked, looking at you like you were a particularly annoying fly buzzing around his head.

“Yes,” you said, folding your arms. “The point is… I was just wondering if you’re going home for Christmas.”

“No,” he said shortly. “Now, are we done here?”

Your scowl deepened. “Why aren’t you going home?”

“Why do you care?” he shot back.

“I don’t!” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. “I just… thought you might be lonely or something.”

Theodore’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “Worried about me, Sunshine?”

“No!” you said, cheeks burning. “Don’t flatter yourself, Nott. I was just—ugh, forget it!”

You stood up so quickly you almost knocked over your chair, muttering under your breath as you stomped away. Behind you, Theodore chuckled softly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

By some miracle (or maybe sheer stubbornness), you managed to find the perfect gift: a leather-bound journal, simple yet elegant, with Theodore’s initials embossed on the cover.

When the time came for the Secret Santa exchange, you watched nervously as he unwrapped it, your palms clammy and your heart pounding.

He stared at the journal for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he looked up, his piercing green eyes locking onto yours.

“Did you…?” he started, but you cut him off.

“It’s not a big deal!” you said quickly, waving your hands. “I just—I mean, you don’t have to like it or anything. It’s fine if you hate it. I just thought—”

“Mio sole,” he interrupted, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “It’s perfect.”

You froze, your brain short-circuiting. “It… it is?”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Then, because you didn’t know what else to do, you blurted, “You’re welcome! Merry Christmas! Okay, bye!”

You practically sprinted out of the room, your face burning, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

Maybe Theodore Nott wasn’t so bad after all.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Later, when you were sitting by the fire, Lorenzo plopped down beside you with a smug grin.

“So,” he said, nudging you. “You gave Theo his gift. How’d it go?”

“Fine,” you said, playing with the hem of your sweater. “He liked it.”

“‘Liked it,’” Lorenzo repeated. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “That’s all.”

Lorenzo smirked. “You’re blushing, Sunshine.”

“I am not!”

Across the room, Theodore caught your eye, and for the briefest moment, he smiled—a real, genuine smile. Your heart did a little flip, and you quickly looked away.

Lorenzo laughed. “Yeah. Totally not blushing.”

“Shut up, Enzo!”

Lorenzo's laughter trailed off as you smacked his arm, though he didn’t stop smirking like the absolute menace he was. You crossed your arms and sank deeper into your seat, huffing.

“Say, Enzo,” you began, your voice carefully nonchalant, “you know Italian, right?”

He raised a curious eyebrow but shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

You turned to face him, fiddling nervously with the hem of your sleeve. “What does… uh… mio sole mean?”

The smirk that spread across his face was so smug, you immediately regretted asking. “Ohhh,” he drawled, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Who called you that?”

“No one!” you said, your voice jumping an octave. “I just heard it somewhere, that’s all. Totally random. Not a big deal!”

Enzo’s eyebrows wiggled like he was performing some sort of comedy act. “Not a big deal, huh? Sure. Well, it means ‘my sun.’ You know, like…” He trailed off dramatically before pointing straight at you. “Sunshine. My sunshine.”

Your face burned so hot, you were pretty sure you were moments away from combusting. “Oh,” you squeaked, your voice barely audible.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “So, Sunshine, care to explain who’s been whispering sweet nothings in Italian to you?”

“No one!” you said again, practically shouting this time. “I told you, I just heard it somewhere! That’s all! Ugh, you’re so annoying, Enzo!”

“I’m annoying?” he said with mock offense. “You’re the one coming to me with your mysterious Italian phrases. Next thing I know, you’ll be asking me how to confess your undying love to Theo in flawless Tuscan dialect.”

Your gasp was so loud, half the common room turned to look at you. “Excuse me?!”

Enzo’s smirk widened. “You’re excused.”

You sputtered incoherently, your brain a tangled mess of embarrassment and indignation. “I—he—there is nothing—you are impossible, Lorenzo Berkshire!”

Enzo laughed so hard, he nearly fell out of his chair. Meanwhile, you crossed your arms and buried your face in your hands, silently vowing to never speak to him again.

Across the room, Theodore caught your eye once more, his lips quirking up in a small, knowing smile. Your stomach flipped again, and you quickly turned away, cheeks blazing.

Enzo, noticing the exchange, gasped dramatically. “It is Theo, isn’t it?! Sunshine, you sly little—”

“ENOUGH!” You groaned, grabbing a cushion and whacking him with it. Enzo, of course, only laughed harder.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work, translate, or repost any of my work.

[vintagegeekculture]

I remember a friend of mine had some LPs that were Star Wars themed disco albums, and it brought back a very weird memory from back in the 70s (yes, I'm old!) of listening to a Star Wars disco mashup on the radio. What was all that about? I also remember something like that for Close Encounters, too.

You remember correctly, and this went on for a long while. In 1983, disk jockeys around the country played a record that involved an Ewok rapping the plot of Return of the Jedi in Ewokese. This made it to #60 in the Billboard Top 100.

This is hard to explain to people who weren’t there….but in the wake of Star Wars in the late 70s and early 80s, scifi was so beloved and mainstream that the orchestral music for nerdy scifi and fantasy movies about outer space were remixed and sampled into Giorgio Moroder-esque Italo-Disco dance numbers. And the most astonishing thing is, instead of being consigned to convention acts the way “horse famous” Brony dubstep acts are, this received national airplay on the radio, reached the pop music charts, and were played in discotheques. And incredibly, this continued for years and expanded from Star Wars into Star Trek, Wizard of Oz, Black Hole, Close Encounters….

All of this was the work of one specific person: Meco (or Dominico Monardo). The term “ahead of their time” is thrown around a lot, but Meco really was: a combination producer-songwriter and Italo-Disco pioneer in the style of Giorgio Moroder, he did several things that are now absolutely standard: he used remixes and sampling before hiphop made that standard for musicians, he wrote “fandom music” on a Moog synthesizer decades before Bronies turned their conventions into cringey dubstep concerts with songs like “Everypony Dance Now.”

It's stunning to me that Meco has not been rediscovered, considering every single trend in the culture essentially went his way.

The most startling thing about Meco’s Star Wars disco album, the one that got the ball rolling on this trend, is this: I always assumed it was some kind of cash in created by a record label mandate, a label executive’s completely cynical choice to hop on a hot new trend. That isn’t a crazy thing to think at all, since Star Wars is and always has been the most merchandized and sold out scifi property ever. But it wasn’t! You see, it was all the product of a single man’s specific vision: Meco had to convince his record label to make the record because they were skeptical.

When Meco went to see Star Wars in 1977 on Opening Day (what an experience that must have been) with his friend and fellow Italian chest hair/gold medallion enthusiast Tony Bongiovi, he was already an experienced producer-songwriter who had worked with Gloria Gaynor, Diana Ross, and formed DCA, the Disco Corporation of America. If you've ever listened to Diana Ross's "I'm Coming Out," Meco actually played the trombone solo in that song. Seeing the Star Wars movie for the first time, though Meco thought the movie was nothing short of a religious experience. Originally, he wanted to do Star Wars music as a b-side on a Gloria Gaynor album, but expanded the idea into an entire album.

In Meco’s own words:

"When I think about what I did, nobody came to me, nobody said 'Meco, why don't you do this.' Nobody says 'Here's some money go make a record of this movie.' It was just my own... It was magical, it was just out of this world when all that happened."

Not only did this album hit platinum, not only did it actually outsell the Star Wars soundtrack, his remix of the Star Wars theme also went to #1 in the charts. It’s actually the best selling instrumental single of all time. A record, that, incidentally, it holds to this day.

Dick Clark, host of American Bandstand, had this to say about Meco:

"In 1977, Meco Monardo accomplished something no one else has ever done to the best of my knowledge. He was the first one in history to out-sell the soundtrack of a motion picture with his own distinctive version of a film's music. The music was totally danceable, and broke new ground. It's no wonder the STAR WARS THEME went to # 1. I loved his treatment of music from THE WIZARD OF OZ. Again, Meco created something innovative. The fun and the excitement gave a whole new feel to that totally familiar and well-loved music."

Like a lot of studio producers, Meco had an insane work ethic and hit when the iron was hot: he did an album about Close Encounters that exact same year, but also did a Star Wars Christmas Album, one of the strangest pieces of Star Wars kitsch around.

One of the most interesting things about the Star Wars Christmas album is that one of the songs, “R2D2’s Wish You a Merry Christmas” is the first professional vocals by John Bon Jovi, who was Meco’s friend Tony Bongiovi’s seventeen year old younger cousin (he was initially known as John Bongiovi). It's incredible to hear a squeaky voiced teen Bon Jovi on a kitsch album about a robot Christmas.

1978-1979 was really his best year. Meco made an Italo-Disco remix album entirely devoted to Superman, and at this point, Meco had the pull to get access to John Williams's sheet music for the score before the music even came out. In my personal opinion it's the best of them because he has to recreate it entirely with his own instruments, leading to a very unique sound.

He also did an album based on the Wizard of Oz:

And a combination album of Star Trek/Black Hole. It's probably the earliest remixing date of Goldsmith pieces of music: the Motion Picture Theme (which is now associated with the Next Generation - hearing it done in Italodisco is uncanny) and the Klingon Theme:

Incidentally, I think the design here of the Meco Enterprise, which had to be modified for legal reasons, would make a wonderful canon starship if anyone wants to be inspired by it. It reminds me of the same concept that would be used in the very next film for the Reliant-class of ships.

Meco eventually retired from music in 1985, but unfortunately he is no longer with us, as he passed into the next dimension in 2023. I think he showed us that creativity is often about transformation, and was inspired to make his art by a legitimate awe of space, the cosmos, and human imagination that the scifi movies of the 1970s and 80s provoke.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Teamwork

George Russell x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: You got between Max and George in Abu Dhabi. Literally.

Warnings: none apart from some curse words and implication of spice

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: I have a few ideas in my drafts after the F1 75 and this is inspired by the beef between George and Max. It’s a silly little blurb, I thought that I’d write the smutty part, but it didn’t come through my mind how to write it well, so I let you imagine what happened next.

Any feedback is welcomed! :)

———

“George, I’m just trying to say that you’re too much sometimes. It wasn’t necessary to say those harsh things about Max to the press.” You were trying to find the key card of your hotel room, pissed off at the scene George just caused with the interview about what happened between him and Max in the stewards room.

“Oh, so you’re sympathizing with him? Perfect. Fucking perfect. And here I thought that you’re on my side.” George ran a hand through his messy hair, exhaustion of the day evident on his face.

“Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m gonna agree with everything you say.”

“Well, if it’s not the well known British couple.” The voice behind them echoed with smugness and it was Max. That pumped new energy to George’s veins, the audacity of his presence near him was astonishing.

“How dare you even come near me?” George pushed his body from the wall he was leaning over, lunging for him, only for you to get between him and Max to stop the possible fight.

“George! Stop this.” Your hands were placed on his chest while you stood very very close to Max with your back, you could practically feel his nipples through the fabric of your clothes.

Max hummed in surprise, your perfume filling his nostrils and his mind was spinning like crazy. He leaned forward to your hair, his gaze looking up at George to catch his reaction.

“I’m sure she’d like to have a champion in her bed.” He whispered with a teasing chuckle.

Russell’s eyes nearly fell out of the eye sockets even more after he noticed the blush on your cheeks and shiver going down your body.

“You- Verstappen-“

“What? Even she is not happy with your twisted words. How bittersweet to have your own girlfriend standing on my side.” Max pushed your hair from your neck to expose it, his breath hitching when he was hit with more of your beautiful scent, mixed with the heaviness of the day.

“M-Max- stop it-“ you tried to protest, but his lips brushed over that spot between your neck and shoulder, forcing you to gasp, looking at your boyfriend in panic. Well, George was frozen to the ground, watching his rival touching you with mouth agape from shock.

“Do you really want me to?” Max leaned closer to your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he was still watching George with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

You couldn’t breathe, the tension making you weak in your knees, the bubbling feeling of desire pooling in your belly, you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I thought so.” Max chuckled softly, his hand sliding down your waist to end on your hip.

“So, Russell, let’s decide how this situation will work. You have two choices. First. You’ll be watching how I’m gonna absolutely rail your girl, making her feel all the things you simply can’t give her or… well… we’re gonna show her teamwork and we’re gonna take her together, but I don’t think she’s gonna be able to endure the intensity of our competitiveness.”

Max’s words made you gasp in shock, your cheeks flushed as you looked up at George, shaking your head no.

The Brit just looked at Max, then at you and he said firmly: “Fine. Let’s show her that neither of our sides are good for her.”

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

-

Tags: @chilling-seavey

[lunarriviera]

listen i know the rest of you are going to make far superior gifsets and believe me i will reblog every single one, but i could not wait, so i threw this together bc i had to yell at you about zhang xincheng RIGHT NOW and i needed visual evidence of what i'm on about.

[clutches you by the collar very gently and whispers urgently at you]

you maybe already knew that "zhang xincheng's acting skills" was in the top 10 weibo hot search all day yesterday, but if you didn't i think you can now see why. i left out the more ghastly parts of this scene (as well as all the shots of fu xinbo's superbly horror-stricken face, the face of a man seeing something no one should have to see, the face of man looking directly into a war) bc that's not what's relevant to me here. and lbr any old first-year drama student can have a fake seizure.

instead what i wanted to focus on is some of the most astonishing transparency i've ever witnessed a television actor offering their audience. this is a character dragging himself deliberately into the pit of hell bc he thinks that's what he has to do—to be saved? oh no, not saved. fei du doesn't think he can be saved. he's just trying to pass as a creature that's shaped like, behaves like, something roughly equivalent to a human being. this is part of how fei du has crafted his "painted skin," the one that only lwz ever sees through.

(and whichever screenwriter decided lwz should have to be there for this? should watch fei du put himself through self-torture as a way to visualize figuring it out?—whoever you are, screenwriter, i could cheerfully kiss you. this choice doesn't just compress and expedite narrative but it gives us additional character payout: amazing.)

and yet! not as amazing as that moment when zhang xincheng leans forward and smiles. it's not that fei du sees lwz, not in this reality; if he's smiling at anyone, it might be fei chengyu. but i would also put it to you that at least part of the reason luo wenzhou is so absolutely horrified is that he's afraid of his own complicity in this nightmare. what if his crabby chinese-dad lectures, the belligerent fussing, the constant criticisms, have done a kind of work he never intended? fei du genuinely believes (but thanks to fei chengyu, not lwz) that he's incapable of human emotion and reactions, empathy and connection, and that he has to be punished into some simulacrum of personhood. when he leans forward and smiles like that? "i'm good now, aren't i? look at me trying—i want to be good, like you and tao ran. it will never work. i'm unsalvageable, i'm worthless, i'm wreckage. but i'm trying to be a person, i'm trying to be good like you are—"

from this moment on, lwz has a newly doubled responsibility. it's not just what his shifu had told him (and what luo wenzhou recognized, when a young fei du had first looked at him with "a gaze so clear it had been nearly wild…stifling never-before-uttered cries for help"): namely, that "if someone ever looks at you like that, you…absolutely cannot fail to live up to those expectations." lwz's been carrying that burden already; after all, he's been investigating this case for over seven years. but now, it's also his responsibility to make sure that going forward, starting from today, he doesn't fail to protect fei du from himself (from fei chengyu, really; and the drama does a little sleight-of-hand here, but more on that some other time). he starts by ordering fei du to "come back to the bureau and work overtime with me," his first desperate attempt to stop this, without having to confront fei du (who he knows would simply shut him out anyway, at this point—put on his glasses and his mask and smile the cold polite little peach-blossom smile, the rehearsed painted skin).

here's the interesting thing, though, and then i swear to god i will shut up and let you go on your way: apparently no one ever told fei du, or he never read about or internalized, despite his brilliance—that you can't teach new behavior through negative stimuli. it's basic operant conditioning; he should have known this. think about it for one second: "don't do that" doesn't tell you what you should do. it teaches an organism to be aversive, but it doesn't give them any positive behavior to fill the void instead. that's why the word "no" means nothing to a well-trained service dog. "no" doesn't give any direction or instruction; it doesn't suggest any outcome. in a very twisted kind of way, this actually proves what fei du loves to deny: that he has raging ptsd. it's just plain self-punishment, not self-correction, and he's deluding himself. absolutely none of what he's doing in the basement would be making him better, EVEN IF he were antisocial.

(the visual metaphor for this is the completely unnecessary scarring he's inflicted on himself through his own badly-administered ECT. it shouldn't leave scars. but he's not trying to do it the right way, or to achieve a result. he's doing it bc he believes he deserves to suffer.)

we all know what it will take to make fei du better, at this point; he's proven his ability to dodge around therapists for years on end. instead it has to be wenzhou's traveling bag full of patience. his persistence, him breaking a lock with the same bit of wire he once used to fish his police ID out of a trashcan (metaphorically). it's water-cooled noodles, and the way he won't let fei du get away with either his grandiosity or his self-loathing. it's lwz's ability to startle him speechless by kissing him on the forehead, his genuine warmth and tenderness and the uncomplicated pleasure of real connection, as well as someone who will thwack him affectionately on the back of his head, whose irreverence will jolt him out of his tragic main character narrative and bring him right back to the here and now.

the fact that steven fucking zhang compresses all of this into like four minutes of red-saturated camera B roll? is just astonishing. he does it with his whole body; he does it with every slow, deliberate, hypnotic, almost serene gesture. in the novel we never see any of this. in the drama, he's made it into a graceful ritual, into kink, into an erotic spiritual practice, with the stringently enforced purity of his self-discipline. it would almost be beautiful, if it weren't a travesty of all these things. and even worse? the ghastly contrast of his self-violence against the fact that he does all of it while somehow also literally being the most beautiful man in the entire world? lwz's gay little brain has to be pinballing around in his skull like an agitated squid, how does he cope with this.

yes i am feral yes i am a rabid slavering moduist no i am not taking ANY questions now or at any other time. neither is luo wenzhou. he's just going to put food in front of fei du, make sure he eats it, give him a bunch of paperwork to sort and a cup of terrible precinct coffee, and later wrap him in a duvet, blowdry his hair, and handcuff him to the bed to sleep. sorry, feishir, your little theatre of cruelty just got shut down. it's time to live—

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Argenti, Aventurine and whoever else you'd like reacting to their lover baking a cake or cupcakes with an encouraging message written on it for them?

“You're doing a good job, love!”

Synopsis: Baking a cake or cupcakes with an encouraging message to cheer up your beloved.

Tags: Argenti x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Feixiao x Reader, Firefly x Reader, Established Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Affection, Heartwarming, Encouragement, Vulnerability, Connection, Acts of Service!Reader.

Argenti

As Argenti stepped into the room, the scent of fresh-baked sweetness filled the air. His gaze softened when he spotted a cake with the words, “For my knight—may beauty guide you always.” delicately written across the icing. His hand moved instinctively to his chest, his heart warmed by the simple, heartfelt gesture.

“My love, this… this is as pure as a dawn’s first light,” he murmured, his voice imbued with reverence. He held your hand gently, guiding it to his lips. "To bring me such joy—truly, you grace my journey with beauty more precious than any star. You have my deepest thanks."

With a fond smile, he took a careful slice, savoring each bite as though it were a sacred gift. The words stayed with him, uplifting his spirit, a beacon he would carry forth in his duty.

Aventurine

Aventurine’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the cupcakes arranged in a playful arc, each one bearing a word that spelled out, “Bet on yourself, love.” He let out a chuckle, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“You’re always one step ahead,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned close. “It’s almost as if you know how I feel after every gamble.” He plucked a cupcake and took a slow, thoughtful bite. “Absolutely delicious—and even better with you here.” he said, pulling you closer with a grin.

In that moment, he felt your care was like a lucky charm, a grounding reminder amidst his high-stakes world that he didn’t always have to go it alone.

Feixiao

Feixiao looked at the cake with mild surprise, taking in the phrase, “Fight for your dreams!” written in bold, steady strokes. She chuckled, a rough but appreciative sound, as her gaze softened.

“Straightforward and inspiring. Just like you.” She tore off a piece, savoring it as she looked at you with rare gentleness. “You know, every bite of this… it’s like a little extra strength for my battles.” Her hand brushed your shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

As she finished her slice, she placed a reassuring hand over yours, her fierce eyes glowing with determination. “Thank you. I’ll make you proud—and myself too.”

Firefly

Firefly blinked in astonishment at the cake, reading the simple yet heartfelt message: “Live for yourself.” Her lips parted slightly, the words hitting deeper than she expected. Tentatively, she traced the letters, absorbing their warmth.

“You… really think I can do that?” she asked softly, her eyes filling with emotion. She took a small bite, savoring it, a faint smile forming.

“This is more than just a cake,” she whispered, meeting your gaze with a mixture of gratitude and hope. “It’s like a piece of a life I never dared imagine.” With newfound courage, she wrapped her arms around you, grateful to have someone who believed in her beyond the battle.

[on1knee4marksmen]

Bundle of Joy

Old man Logan x reader

—☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎——☀︎—

Whew,finally!! I've been keeping this thing in drafts for like a week now, all because of school (😠)

This is originally a request from @fluff-lover (I forgot to answer to their ask) :

"I had this idea of Old man Logan and reader living a quiet life in a cabin, and a pregnant dog comes to their door. Reader takes her in and helps her until she's given birth and the puppies are ready for their forever home. Logan has to drive to the shelter with the puppies to drop them off, but knowing Reader got attached he decides to surprise them by bringing home one of the puppies."

I absolutely loved this idea when I read it, so I really really hope this is what you imagined 🤞

Pairing: Old man Logan x reader

Words: 1,6k ish

Description: Look at the ask above,pretty much that + Laura in the picture bc I love her 3000

Warnings: Not many. Couple of swear words + me rambling; excessive use of the word "and" (my bad)

Tags: Fluff, domestic Logan :), reader sees Laura as their daughter, reader gets referred to as Logan's wife (I don't think there are any other lady reader indicators), attachments being formed with puppies (I love animals), Logan being the dad that says 'I don't want any pets' but then being found guilty of snuggling with the dog on the couch💔

A/n: English isn't my first language and I absolutely hate tenses, so lmk if there's anything I should fix :)

—————————☀︎——————————

James Howlett. Jimmy. Logan. Patch. The Wolverine.

How did a man that lived long enough to get called all those names end up here? Driving a limo, owning reading glasses and having to deal with aching bones?

And he's not driving a customer around this time — on the passenger seat next to him is an open box. Full of fucking puppies.

What had happened to get Logan here?

Well, it all started a month ago. You'd just came back to the little cabin you and Logan had the privilege of calling a home – after Charles sadly passed, you'd offered Logan to cross the border along with Laura and build a home. Start anew. And God, who was he to deny you?

So anyways, you'd just come home after work. Logan was, for once, early, already hanging his coat. Laura was on a week-long trip with her class, which left you and your husband some time to spend together, just you and him..

Or so he thought. Upon going back to the front door to great you, he had heard your voice, soft and mumbly, almost cooing at someone. Or something. His usual wrapping his arms around you and welcoming you home with a kiss – he'd do anything to catch a glimpse of that sweet smile of yours, even after all these years – turned into an eyebrow raise and a soft look of curiousity in Logan's eyes.

"Hi, darlin'. ..Who're you talking to?"

Too swallowed up in trying to get the mystery.. individual to follow you in, your head had whipped around in surprise at Logan's words. ...And a tiny smile adorned your features the moment you saw him.

"Lo, you're back early!" You called out, and your arms immediately outstretched, as if it was an automatic reaction to catching his gaze.

Aaand here it was. A man that everyone convinced he was a weapon his whole life, that he was born to kill, was now getting flustered and giddy at the sensation of the beautiful woman he got the privilege to call his wife, planting soft little kisses aaalll over his face. And he wasn't grumpy about it either – he was smiling like an idiot.

But the smile dropped to a surprised part of his lips, his eyes widening, as they got met with a rather interesting sight. As you hugged him,he had the chance to look at whatever was behind your back. And now he realized why you were cooing.

A dog. A not so big, yet not so small dog with glossy eyes and an almost sad look on its muzzle.

And it was kind of..round, too.

And that's when it sort of clicked for Logan. He pulled back, wide eyes looking down at you with astonishment, interest and some disbelief. "Where did uh... Where'd the lil' guy come from?"

It had taken you a while to understand what he was talking about. But some confused looks and a long 'Ooooh!' later, you were already explaining. "The little guy's actually a girl - she's been in the neighborhood for a while now. I gave her leftover meat once, so I guess she came back for more."

A pause. "... She's pregnant." Yeah. Logan could see that. But with the way your voice had softened, he didn't dare tease. "I was.. hoping we could take her in. Help her with the cubs... I mean, she looks really pregnant."

At first, Logan had stayed silent. Stayed skeptical. A stray? And a pregnant one, at that? Who knew what kind of diseases she could be carrying?? And yeah,he couldn't get sick and neither could Laura, but what about you? He couldn't bare anything bad happening to you...

But then, oh, then, he saw that look in your eyes. It's like he couldn't decide which one of you was giving him sadder puppy eyes - you or the literal dog behind you. And then you had given one simple "..please?" And he couldn't resist - he caved.

And so, the one month of taking care of the stray doggo had begun. You'd taken her to the vet to make sure everything was okay, just to ease Logan's paranoia. It had been hard for him to get used to her in the house at first anyway, however - and that was without having Laura around and having to explain to her what she could and couldn't do in order to not scare the poor thing - loud music or yelling wouldn't be a treat for the poor pup, even if Laura didn't do those so often.

It was a change of pace, that's for sure. Having yet another mouth to feed, even if it wasn't that hard to mix dog food with some meat twice a day. Having a four-pawed, big-eyed pet walking around the house, laying on the couch, sleeping on your shared bed...

What he couldn't get used to was having your attention on the pup more than on him.

Some might call it jealousy. It definitely wasn't jealousy.

...It was totally jealousy.

At first,it had stunned you to see Logan more grumpy than the usual. I mean, yeah, he'd barely agreed and yeah, he wasn't used to a pet, moreso a pregnant one, but why was he looking at the damn dog so weird every time you gave it a scratch or cooed at it?

And then it had dawned on you. He wanted head scratches too. Wanted you to coo at him and coddle him. And oh boy, did he get teased.

After you figured out why he was being more of a grump than usual, you got a good laugh out of it, (and you got to see your husband as red as a tomato) but after that, you made sure to give equal attention to both the pup and Logan himself. You made up to him with a looot of kisses, cuddles, even a back massage.

And the problem was quickly resolved.

A week in, Laura got to know the pup as well. After a 5 or so minute talk about pregnant animals and dogs and whatnot, during the whole entirety of which the girl had been silent, Laura asked a pretty good question.

"Does she have a name?"

And it hit you - she didn't.

And then came the next question of your daughter's - "Can I name her?"

That's how the dog ended up with her own name - Bella.

The following three weeks were a new experience for Laura as well, but she seemed to love having Bella around, just as much as you did. She'd help you with her food, offer to come with you to walk her in the evenings, she even tried to get the pup to sleep on her bed once.

But eventually, the time had come for Bella to give birth. You had done all necessary research - whether or not to interfere, how to help, what was normal and what wasn't. When you'd recognised Bella's odd behaviour as going into labour, you immediately scurried to join her side in the corner of your bedroom, crouching down to be closer to her.

After you gained awareness on Logan's little... problem - and solved it - your husband began to warm up to Bella too. You'd begun finding the dog curled up close to him while he read when you came home, he, in turn, had begun to help with her food. He'd stopped complaining about the dog sleeping in your shared bed. He'd even began petting her more than he'd like to admit.

——————————☀︎——————————

What you hadn't expected was for Logan to join your side too.

Bella had given birth with little to no complications - and her pups were just so tiny and so cute! It warmed your heart just thinking about it - the stray you took in had just had eight healthy puppies, eight! And, with the way Bella herself was eagerly trying to lick at your hand when you went to pet her, despite the exhaustion that must've been seeping through her, told you that she was as grateful as ever, too. It made your eyes water, even if you wouldn't admit it.

You and Logan had gladly let Bella stay until her pups were at least four months old. But both you and your husband knew that after they were bug enough, you had to give them to a dog pound - you couldn't feed eight more pups, you couldn't assure they were living their best life.

That time you hadn't hidden the tears. And that time, Logan hadn't said a word as he hugged you. He understood. Because he'd grown attached to the doggo too.

Aaand, back to present - here he was, driving a box full of puppies, lined with newspapers to try and keep the little things as comfortable as possible. Bella was in there too, looking up at him with those big, glossy eyes. It hurt to turn to the right exactly because he knew he'd likely never see her again..

You'd never see her again, either. He knew how sad that made you, and it made him even sadder knowing it. He was going to come home to you, to Laura, to his house, but he'd no longer her the sound of long nails and furry paws hitting the floor. He'd no longer have soft fur to absentmindedly stroke while he reads.

He'd left home with nine bundles of joy in a box, and he'd come home empty-handed.

...At least that's what you thought. Until you saw your husband open the door with one hand. Smiling softly.

(Another) A/n: Thank you so much for the love on my recent fics! I love when you guys leave silly tags when you repost btw, so don't be shy <33

Because his other hand was too busy holding one of Bella's puppies, letting the little bundle of joy get accustomed to its home. Your little bundle of joy.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

temptations | i. midoriya

✮ tags ; masc + afab!reader, gender language (good boy, sweet boy, izuku refers to u as a guy), noncon, oral (reader recieving), lots of praise, izuku being insane and creepy kinda, 18+

✮ wc ; 2.6k (i added 1.4k in editing. bye)

✮ a/n; comm for anon that i kept adding too until it got like this. forgive me and thank u for ur patience kjfsdnkj.

“Izukuuuu,” You draw out, the syllables slurred on your tongue. Eyes shining, bright but bleary. You laugh sweetly, drunken and excitable. “Hi,”  

Izuku lets out a shaky breath. This feels like both a blessing and a curse. Seeing you this vulnerable is not good for his brain.  

Your expression is soft as you look up at him, the cold night air brushing against your skin. You sniffle at the cold, stepping closer. Izuku pauses. A sharp inhale escapes him as your arms come around the wide breadth of his middle, your chin at his chest. You’re still staring at him, still smiling. Completely out of it and expecting a reply. 

“Hi,” He says back shakily. He’s unconfident in his own voice but you seem pleased with his response. Your grin grows wider as you nuzzle your face against his pec warmly, laughter bubbling against him.  

“Hehe,” You mumble, nuzzled into him further. “You’re warm,”  

His knees are gonna give out. “Am I?”  

“Mhm,” You say back. Izuku swallows nervously. “So warm. You smell so nice too,”  

He takes a deep, sobering breath - slipping back into the caring friend role as best he can.  

“We should get you home,” Izuku says gently. He’s rationalizing with himself about how this will all go down and decides this is the best course of action. “You drank a lot,”  

“Noooo,” Your voice shakes like you might cry. Izuku’s eyes go wide at the sudden emotion. “I don’t wanna go home. Wanna stay,”  

He is not strong enough to say no to you, he thinks. He thinks about it, but looks down and finds that he can’t even he tries. His heartbeat is rapid. “Why don’t you wanna go back home?”  

“Because,” You say easily, voice airy and proper. “I wanna stay here with you.”  

“With me?” Izuku says, astonished. You smile against his chest, arms tightening against his middle. 

“With Izuku-kun,”  

God. Okay. He’s… he’ll... 

He stutters, trying to find a way out of this. “We’re…You should….”  

He’s reasoning it more with himself than you. But even at the vaguest hint of him turning you down makes your expression so absolutely wobbly he can’t find the words to do it properly. Fuck.  

He closes his eyes and clears his mind. It’ll be fine. He won’t take you back to his place. It’d be too impersonal to drop you off somewhere.  

“Okay,” He offers, placating. “L-lets go then,”  

__ 

With wet hair and a heavy conscience, Izuku sits against the edge of the bed with his face in his hands and his self-restraint on it’s very last legs.  

If he were a more honest person, he would’ve sent you home. There’s zero reason for him to be at a love hotel with the person he has one-sided romantic interest in. Especially not when you’re so drunk, and your drunk habits just happen to be being all over him.  

You and Izuku are friends, first foremost. But he’s harbored his crush on you for just as long, hopelessly pining after you with absolutely zero hopes of any progress. It’s not like you’ve put up any particular walls or intentional distance. But you’re really just friends, before you’re anything else. The type of relationship you have borders on more casual then anything, and it’s hard to deepen it without coming off too strong.  

Aside from the general sense of distance, you’re not particularly touchy-feely. Which is why seeing you intoxicated and clingy felt like being shot.  

You’re pleasant and considerate and warm without being overbearing. Izuku likes you so badly it makes him feel a little out of his mind. But that wall between, always there and looming, has never made him even dream of crossing that boundary. Izuku is a pro at suppressing his feelings, even better at having unrequited crushes.  

It’s the first time you’ve ever been this drunk in front of him. This sweet on him. You’ve often gone out for drinks together after patrols but you tolerate your liquor better than him and rarely seem affected by the alcohol at all. It was a celebration today, and you seemed to be in a good mood so you drank and drank and drank.  

Apparently, your drunk habits are the way they are and it is absolutely detrimental to him. Clingy and soft and sweet. He’s never seen you act like that in his life. All sense of distance between you completely shattered when you were waiting for a taxi and holding him close. Even back at the izakaya you had your head on his shoulder and arm around his all night. After that you refused to let go of him in front of everyone else. 

He had resolved himself to send you back home in a nice Uber and then jerk himself off in the shower. He’s a hero, not a saint. Being so physically close to the guy he’s so enamored with has been nothing short of damaging to his already frail and somewhat neurotic mental state.  

But you refused to go home, looked ready to cry at the thought and Izuku—Izuku is just not strong enough to turn you down when you make such big puppy eyes at him. Taking you back to his place would’ve damned him immediately. He thought a hotel would feel more impersonal, be easier for his brain to handle. 

He didn’t think it through. What other hotels would be this late at night other than some raunchy love hotel? He can’t do anything but lament and pray the night passes quietly.  

Before he can break down about it again, you stumble out of the bathroom freshly showered. With wet hair and your chest visibly bare. Izuku’s eyes go wide at the sight of your robe just barely covering your skin, damp with water as you rub your eyes.  

His voice goes high from shock. “W-where are your clothes?”  

You shake your head and walk over to bed without a care, yawning. “Too itchy. Took them off,”  

Izuku feels a stress headache coming on, pouting. “You’ll catch a cold,”  

“Nuh-uh,”  

Despite himself, he finds himself endeared by your uncharacteristic brattiness. He sighs, beckoning you over with a slight smile. “At least let me dry your hair? Just before you sleep,”  

You frown but comply, dropping yourself besides him in bed . Izuku laughs a little, stands to his knees  and stands behind you, as he grabs the towel hanging from your shoulders and gently begins to squeeze away any excess water from your hair. You’re quiet as he does. Izuku doesn’t try to converse with you when you’re so out of it.  

It doesn’t take him long to finish.  

“All done,” Izuku announces. He pulls the towel away from your head with a kind smile. You follow up by dropping your neck back and looking up at him - the top of your head resting on his abdomen. Chin tilted up and lips pouted, you look up. 

“Thank you,” You say, still slurring your words. But it’s the way you look at him that makes him nearly give in right then and there. His throat dries up. He shakes the thoughts away and give you a weary smile.  

“No p-problem. Let’s sleep, okay?”  

You nod once, and Izuku lets out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. He climbs off the bed and waits for you to get in first. It’s not the first time he’s shared one with you but that time you were both very sober. It was easy for him to keep his distance.  

That is, it’s much harder for him to keep his distance when you crawl up on the bed on your hands and knees, drop down and flip onto your back, and leave the lower half of your robe completely open.  

You’re naked underneath there. He figured you were just shirtless but you’re— 

“Izuku?” You murmur. He can barely snap out of it. “Aren’t you gonna sleep too?”  

He’s hard. He doesn’t know if he can sleep without rubbing one out.  

The feeling comes in too suddenly. You’re just so defenseless. So terribly, unimaginably open. He can feel the last bits of his composure finally start to come loose as he stares at where your legs are parted, unbidden. A shiver wracks through him. It’s like you’re asking for it. At this point you have to be.  

Before he can restrain himself, his body responds to you for him. He climbs onto the bed and finds himself climbing on top of you just as quick. His shadow swallows you completely. You look so innocent like this, like a lamb pinned underneath him. Helpless.  

“Izuku?”  

His throat is dry. He shouldn’t do this, but he can’t help but want to. Can’t help but want you so bad he feels like he’s going insane with it.  

He hovers over you and presses his mouth to yours in a harsh kiss. It’s hot and forceful, all too desperate. You make a noise he can’t quite make out as your lips melt together, his tongue slipping against yours and forcing your mouth open. He feels your hands at his shoulders making a weak attempt to push him away but you’re too out of it to do any real damage to him.  

He pulls away only to let you breathe, his voice trembling as he reasons with you. A hand comes up to your face, your cheek pressing against his palms. He draws his thumb underneath your eye “Shhh. You wanted this right? You had to have wanted this. Sorry, I didn’t get it okay? I’ll make you feel good so just be a good boy,”  

A warble of protest escapes you. Izuku quiets you with another kiss. One to the corner of your mouth, to your lips again - swallowing the noises. “Shhh, it’s alright baby. I’m here,” 

His last bits of worry are overwhelmed by a profound, deafening lust that makes all the blood in his veins feel like lava. You squirm underneath him as Izuku nudges his lips along your wet skin, kissing you one last time before pressing his lips to your jaw. Trailing them down your neck and throat, down your collarbones and sternum. He lets his tongue lap at your skin as he grows sloppier, cock hardening at each little mewl that escapes you.  

He uses one of his hands to undo the tie of your robe, letting it fall apart until you’re completely naked and he gasps at the sight of your body completely bare. He feels dizzy. Your nipples, your waist - all of it. His mouth waters at the sight of you, all the lines and edges that are usually hidden under clothes.  

“You make such sweet sounds for me, hm? So perfect,”  

You let out a whine that almost comes off as frightened but Izuku hushes you again.  Coos at you until you go back to just whimpering. He holds your hips down as his mouth traces a path sloppily from neck to navel - all the way until he finds himself between your thighs. A path of bites and small dark marks follow. Izuku barely remembers leaving them, so eager to give you what you need. There’s no real ceremony to foreplay. He wants to take his time with you. If he could have it his way, he’d take you apart all slow and steady and make you melt.  

But he’s too desperate right now, too wanting to leave any room for leeway. Being greeted by the sight of your cunt, exposed and ready and wet for him, proves too much. He needs to feel you.  

“Look at your pretty pussy,” Izuku says, huffing. His nose nudging against your clit and you gasp, your eyes widening. Legs flailing in a weak attempt to get him away. He stares down, soaking in the sight of you, his fingers pulling you apart. Threads of slick catch light in his eyes. “Your clit is twitching so much too… so cute. And y-you’re this wet…amazing.” He inhales. 

“Nooo,” You whine. It’s the clearest you’ve sounded. Your voice is wet, face hot with embarrassment. Izuku stares up at you, unable to heed your protests. “Wait, please, y-you c—ah!”  

He really can’t help himself. He grips onto you tight and drags you down until you’re right where he needs you to be. Kissing your pussy for good measure, he sticks his tongue and drags it between the hot, sticky mess of your folds without a single hint of shame or restraint.  

You cry out and Izuku groans. At the taste of you, the scent of you flooding his mouth and filling him completely. He huffs and breathes you, ignoring the silent cries of humiliation. He can’t find himself to feel the remorse he should when you taste this fucking good. Get this wet for him, this lovely.  

You tremble helplessly as Izuku’s tongue traces and flicks experimentally, careful to see your reactions until he gets the one he wants. Once he finds what makes you tick, he wastes no time at all using it to his advantage. He sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves, your clit throbbing between soft, wet lips. He keeps the pressure firm, adding in flicks of his tongue to drive you over the edge, relishing how you respond.  

Whatever spot his finds must be good because it leaves you underneath him, panting. Your eyes rolled back, no longer begging for him to stop with the same sureness. Even in your protests, your back is arching up helplessly - fingers tangled in the sheets. Slightly teary-eyed as you whimper out, not having the strength anywhere in your body to push him away. 

“You taste so good,” Izuku mumbles into your cunt giving you pause, head heavy with his want. “Sweet boy. So needy. So helpless for me,”  

Your mouth falls open, gasping. “I-Izuku, p-please, please,”  

He hums. “Please what? You want me to stop?”  

He waits for your reply, just to be sure - even though there’s no way he’d be able to stop himself now. You look down at him and frown, lower lip trembling. You let out a pathetic little whimper that makes his cock grow even harder.  

“Wanna cum,” You slur, words breaking out into a sob. “Make me cum,”  

He sighs, pleased. “Shhhh, of course  I will. You did so good asking, right baby? My good boy. I’ll make you feel so good, get your pussy nice and wet for me. You’ll take it right? Hm?”  

You nod, shameless. The alcohol lowering your inhibitions enough to make you seek out the pleasure more than you reject it. It makes Izuku moan as he dives back between your legs and holds you down. With both of his hands gripping your hips, he goes back to lick your pussy with even more fervor.  

You let out loud moan, wetting his chin and flooding his tongue as the arousal starts to to make your muscles tight. Your thighs squeeze around his head— the knot in your belly beginning to unravel. Izuku moans, unabashed, encouraging you to let go.  

“Shh, just cum baby. Be a good boy and cum for me,”  

The reverb of his words making you dizzy as you feel them in your cunt. You let out a garbled warning but Izuku doesn’t let up.  

You cum hard and fast, muscles tensed and toes curling as you squeeze Izuku between your thighs and attempt to buck him off. Oversensitive beyond imagination, your chest heaves as Izuku licks you through each tremor. Your body trembles, eyes welling up with tears from the stimulation. Shameful and tipsy, Izuku licks up your orgasm till your clean - wet with nothing but spit.  

“I won’t do anything you won’t like,” Izuku says, coming back up to kiss your forehead. You’re still so drunk, but you’re docile now too. He presses another peck to the crown of your head.  

“Don’t try to push me away, okay? Just lay back and be good.”  

You nod, pliant. Too trusting. Too inebriated.  

“O-okay,”  

[sscieloz]

You overhear Karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

Over her

Yu Jimin x reader

Warnings: a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals (? idk how to word it better than this).

Word count: 5.4k

Notes: I’m alive!!! sorry for taking forever to answer 😔. I think your message got cut off? so I got a little creative, I hope you don’t mind :). If you do, I can still cut out a few things n stuff. anyways, merry early christmas ig ^^ ps: I also didn’t know if this was supposed to be smut, so I only wrote a little and in the end.

—

You’ve always been utterly, embarrassingly, completely enamored with your girlfriend. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you for even a single second; you would always be caught staring at Karina with loving eyes, often going out of your way to simply please and spoil her rotten, showering her with kisses and gifts. For you, it was physically impossible to be without her for too long. Her absence made your heart ache, almost as if there were something missing from you. It was difficult to go on with your routine if you didn’t have her by your side. You missed your late night talks, walks at the park, parking lot dates, eating too much junk food together… You missed her, truthfully. All of her.

Naturally, you understood her duties as an idol: being away for shows, events, and photoshoots were part of her life just as much as you were. However, you knew Karina’s time was precious and scarce— which was why, whenever she was back in Seoul, you tried to spend as much quality time together as possible.

Even now, as the group’s busy with their latest Mini Album’s promotions, you couldn’t help but to feel glistening with happiness to have the four girls back in Korea, regardless of them still being so occupied with fansigns, program attendances and rehearsals for their upcoming stages and festival performances. Having them in town gives you the opportunity to join them backstage, which you absolute love; whether it’s the artistic atmosphere, or being able to understand how this industry truly works, with all the engines running frantically in the girls’ background to ensure everything goes as planned… And, of course, getting to watch Karina perform and be the astonishing, all-rounder, talented version of herself was the best part of it all. Anytime you look at her through the big screens, you realize how lucky you truly are— to be able to see all sides of her. To witness how sweet, shy and caring she could also be, once the cameras were not around.

You loved her so much.

“Congratulations, girls! You absolutely nailed it!” You praise the four girls as soon as they leave the stage, breathless from performing at a University Festival. They all smile back, trying to recompose themselves as best as they can, the adrenaline from being on stage slowly running out. You wait for them to calm down, too, before reaching out to give your girlfriend a big hug, in hopes to express yourself through your touches. You mean to tell her how wonderful she had done, but she ends the hug quickly, although her smile still lingers.

“I’m all sweaty, Y/n.” She explains, which you nod and take a step back to give her space. The two of you walk side by side, towards the big dressing room. “I don’t want you to get dirty, too.”

You shrug, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling that stood on your heart, with the lack of her touches. You understood, though. Karina’s just taking care of you, like the sweet girlfriend she is. So you follow her, without complaints, even though all you want is to jump from excitement and tell her how perfectly she performed, setting the public on fire. Instead, you force yourself to stay still and calm down, laying with the others on the couch as you watch them change into normal clothes and relax.

-

The cafe’s atmosphere is cozy and calm, a much-needed contrast for the girls after a whole morning of practicing at the company. The place’s barely occupied— lunch break is nearly over for most of the workers— and the only sounds that can be heard are the wind’s peaceful breeze and the girl’s voices, engaged in a nonchalant gossip.

“I’m so hungry.” Winter complains, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder. You all chuckle at the sight; she’s too cute, even when she’s whiny.

“Me too.” You nod, and reach out for your girlfriend’s arm, tugging it slightly to steal her attention from Ning’s excited storytelling. It takes a few moments, but she finally hums, acknowledging you. “Love, do you think the food will take long? I need to use the restroom, but I’ll wait if it’s coming soon.”

Karina frowns, looking behind you for a few seconds. After examining the balcony, she seems to think otherwise. “It might take quite a while, still. We’ve ordered a lot, and we just got here, too. You’re safe to go.”

You nod as you get up and excuse yourself, leaving the girls to their own conversations. Their reserved table, set in a pretty well-hidden corner of the cafe, is the reason you’re able to observe their faces from afar, once you make your way back from the stalls. None of them notice your arrival, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to your frame.

Giselle, Winter, and Ningning’s faces are uneasy as they listen to Karina’s rambling. Their fingers twitch on the table, and they shake their heads every once in a while, leaving you to wonder what’s gotten them so serious. Trying to understand the matter, you frown behind their backs, approaching the group in slow, unhurried steps.

“… She’s constantly all over me, too. I swear I don’t even have time to breathe without her on my skin, as if she has nothing else to do. It’s so fucking annoying, really. Like, you remember, right? And there was that time when we were all at the park and Y/n was just insufferab—.”

You decide not to eavesdrop on the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping your steps as light as you can, once you turn around and nearly run back to the restroom, ignoring the heavy pitch just forming in your stomach.

You only allow yourself to relax once you reassure your mind that none of them were aware of you listening to Karina’s harsh, hurtful words.

Instead, your hands go to your face, and you try to focus and take deep breaths to prevent the tears from coming. The moment they start, you know it’ll take long to stop. It was one of the things Karina always teased you about: how you’ve always been such a crybaby, drowning yourself in tears for absolutely anything.

Oh, Karina… how could she speak such things about you? You’ve always put on so much effort to be the best, supportive girlfriend you could, with extra care to respect your girlfriend’s boundaries and still express how much you loved her.

It hurt to know she found you annoying and clingy, specially since all you’ve ever meant was to reassure her of your love. Allowing your body to sink into the restroom’s floor, you reach to the ground, hugging your knees in hopes to feel some comfort.

Flashes pass through your mind like rockets, analyzing every single moment you’ve ever spent with Karina. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, your mind doesn’t seem to give you any relief, overthinking about each one of her touches, phrases, and actions towards you. Did she even love you? What was she doing with you, then, if she found your presence to be so suffocating? What have you done wrong?

Was your whole existence the problem? The way you acted, your bubbly personality…

The questions, now clearly etched on your brain, did nothing but deepen the lump in your throat, one that left saliva building up in your mouth, making it impossible to swallow. Even the simplest actions were difficult to be executed, just like it was when you were away from your girlfriend for too long.

Despite all, you couldn’t help but let a light chuckle, forcing yourself to get up and wash your face in the sink. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you stay in the cafe. No, that won’t do— you have to go home. Even if it means facing chaos herself.

And her friends, too. They must’ve been aware of Karina’s feelings towards you all along, yet they still let you smile and be all over like a fucking idiot.

You look up, trying not to ruin your mascara and risk having any of them finding out what you’ve just heard. Without rush, you force yourself to even your breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow movements, focusing on your body’s movements instead of giving in to desperation.

You feel like you’re at the bottom pit, and it fucking sucked.

After minutes of calming yourself down, you dried the remaining tears and got up, sighing as you excited the bathroom. Your hands trailed the walls as you walked without rush, looking for something, anything to provide some strength. Eventually, the walls of the hallway gave way to the open area of the tables, making you gulp. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt too weak, almost as if you were going to pass out at any given moment. Your usual confidence was all gone, and you weren’t at all sure you’d manage to speak to them without stuttering or crying.

“Thank fucking God, Y/n. We thought you got kidnapped or something.” Winter was the first to say, giggling. Giselle and Ningning smiled too, mumbling how you must’ve gotten lost or thrown in a portal to another dimension, perhaps.

Karina nods. “You really took too long out there, Y/n. I almost went looking for you.” Even though her tone is light, your girlfriend’s smile fades once she takes a proper look at your face.

You try your best to smile back at her, hands going unconsciously to your arms, scratching them nervously. You’ve always liked to be the center of their attention; the little moments where they’d ask you for an opinion or actively listen to your rambling… you thrived on them. It felt like they were spoiling you, giving up one of the things they cherished the most to focus on you: their time. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of being observed by them brought you a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of being someone important.

“I actually need to go, now.” You mutter, grabbing your stuff whilst refusing to meet your girlfriend’s piercing gaze.

Karina’s already aware something is wrong, though. She knows your body, your expressions, your mannerisms… she’s more than capable of telling when you’re off, much to your discomfort.

“Is everything ok? What happened?” Her hands grab a hold of your elbow, and you nearly joint, throwing your phone and sweater in your purse as fast as you can, to escape from her fingers on you. Her touch hurts, electrocuting your skin as if she were a storm set on a windy, loud night. You couldn’t stand it.

“It’s just a family emergency, don’t worry.” You take a step back, with your wallet in hands to pay for your drink. Bowing slightly to acknowledge the pain you were bringing onto the conversation, you add. “Please keep up with your lunch. I’ll make sure to update you about it soon.”

Karina’s hands rest on top of yours, taking the card from between your fingers and back to the wallet.

“It’s ok, I’ll pay.” Her voice, calm and soothing, is much different from her previous, livid tone. She gives your hand a squeeze, getting up herself. “Do you want me to go with you? Manager unnie will understand.”

The girls nod, their faces also filled with worry. However, you dismiss your girlfriend, diverting your gaze to the ground as you inhale deeply. You’re unable to face her by any given means; you’d fall apart in front of them if you did as such. In fact, you find yourself unable to face any of them. They’ve made a fool out of you for too long, and that single thought is enough for bile to rest in your throat, threatening to spill. You can’t deal with that, not at the moment.

“I mean it: I’m sure I can handle it.” Your muscles tense, and you don’t even notice your body’s backward steps. It was clear you wanted to leave, which was mostly the reason they didn’t pressure further, watching as you hurriedly made our way out.

Karina’s eyes were the most trained, her mind racing with thoughts that left her wondering what had gotten you so shaken, visibly out of place. Clueless, she stared at your frame until you’ve reached the door. Only then, you returned her stare.

The watery look in your eyes is more than enough to make her shiver, gripping her chest to get rid of the heaviness that had installed in her heart. Everything was fine, Karina told herself. You’d soon deal with your incident, and be back by her side as fast as you could, as always.

With that in mind, she relaxes, turning her attention back to her friends’ conversation.

-

Karina doesn’t understand why your distance hurts so much. She should’ve been relieved: you’ve stopped spamming her phone with updates of your day, no longer sending thousands of pictures and videos of things that, according to you, reminded you of herself. She doesn’t have to deal with your constant neediness, nor does she have to reassure you that you were loved, and she missed you. It’s all she’s ever wanted— to not be disturbed at all, being able to focus on work and just have a good time, overall.

Instead, she feels awful; as if something’s missing. Everything feels wrong; she’s unable to concentrate at all, her skin itches and her thoughts constantly linger on you, wondering.

“Hey, Jimin unnie.” Ning looks up from the ground, stretching herself out on the floor. “Is Y/n coming soon? She always brings the best snacks.” Resting on the couch, Karina lets out a long sigh, looking at the clock displayed above the dance room’s door.

“She’s not stopping by to watch us today.” The oldest explains, shrugging. She tries as hard as she can not to sound affected by it. “It’s Nutcracker season. She’s rehearsing until late, most likely.”

“Most likely? Haven’t you talked to her today to know that?”

Giselle’s sharp tone hurt, specially since Karina’s phone was currently burning in her pocket, with a lot of unread messages she had sent you. Karina twists her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands on her face, in a tired manner. “No, I haven’t. Like I said, she’s busy. We haven’t talked much since this morning.”

“Wow, this is serious, then.” Giselle’s lips turn into a smirk, as she brushes the sweat out of her face. “Y/n’s never missed a pre-comeback rehearsal of ours. Like, literally never. Not even if she had her own rehearsals to attend. Have you ever attended any of hers, by the way?”

Karina grits her teeth. She knows Giselle means well: she’s friends with you, and is simply curious. Knowing that doesn’t keep the girl from wanting to punch the Uchinaga for annoying her, though. With the engines running inside her head, Karina tries her best to focus on exhausting her body, in hopes of having the burning sensation ease her troubled mind. Still, she couldn’t help but constantly wonder what was going on in with you. Why were you suddenly so distant?

The questions clouded her head, making it difficult to focus on the choreography they were learning. It seems like she wasn’t making up stuff, after all: Giselle’s questions made it clear you were different, weirdly so.

Nodding, Karina added, “Yeah. It’s not like herself at all.”

Giselle meant to continue the conversation, but the dark look Karina shoots her is enough to get the Uchinaga to gulp, focusing back on her movements, along with the melody of their upcoming song. It was none of her business, anyway.

Once the girls make their way back to the dorms, Karina decides she’s had enough of whatever you were intending to do. She’d stop by and confront you, finally. It frustrated her, having to guess your feelings, specially since you’ve been dating for quite a while — now. But she’d do it, if you were so willing to be petty. She’d be the one to reach out first.

-

“Thank you, girls. I’ll see you in a bit. I won’t be late, promise.” Karina’s words reverberate through the car, as she waves goodbye to her friends.

Her three bandmates were, as always, more than quick to encourage her to reach out to you, after the distance between you lingered for weeks. Even though it would cost her hours she should be spending in the recording room, they’ve immediately told Karina to talk to you, urging to have both of you in good terms once again.

Ever since you’ve become a shell of the caring, sweet girlfriend you once were, Karina’s been jittery; she was easily irritated and often picked arguments over the simplest things. It was clear the situation was taking a toll on her, in ways she’d never admit. Karina would die before confessing how much she missed your voice, your care, your touches. She’d never admit it. After all, she did constantly complain about how clingy and annoying you were— it was only fair she lived up to her words.

With a sigh, the girl enters your Dance Studio, tugging at the tiny Christmas decorations that hang through the reception area, the doors, and the walls. She realizes she’s never actually been inside the massive building for more than three, maybe four times. Usually, Karina would just wait for you by the car, never bothering to get to know the place you spent the majority of your time, whenever you weren’t attending your classes. Karina mutters a curse under her breath, silently punishing herself for not paying enough attention to you, as she smiles at the receptionist and asks about your location.

“Second four, third door on the left. She’s booked up a private room for a few hours, but they should be near the end, now.” The woman told her, as Karina bowed her in recognition, making her way towards the elevator.

Once she’s walking through the hallways, a big, colored paper with numerous names catches her eyes, standing out in the sea of decorations and adornments. It’s a casting list, and Karina’s chest fills with pride as she reads your name: first in line, cast as the lead dancer. She vaguely remembers of one of your rambles months prior, the low tone of your voice exposing how ashamed you were to confess about your nervousness to audition. At that time, Karina had been so focused on her own stuff she barely gave your topics any attention at all, dismissing them with a few hums until you focused on her rants again.

Now, Karina desperately wished she had paid you more attention. She urged to be active in your life: to know what was happening in your routine, your troubles and whatever was making you happy at the moment. Filled with guilt, the dark-haired girl slides the door slowly, delighting herself in the sight of your perfectly arranged frame, stretching yourself by the bars.

“You haven’t told me you got cast as Clara.” She says, quietly, staring at how precise and eloquent your moves are, even though the music that comes from your phone is faint, nearly inaudible.

You take a look at your girlfriend through the mirrors, trying your best to look indifferent. In reality, the first thought you’ve had as soon as you got cast as the lead dancer for the company’s Winter play was to call her, screaming in excitement for accomplishing something you’ve wanted for so long. But her words were still livid on your mind—which is why you simply shrug, going on with your barre routine, back straightened and arms arched. Once again, it was difficult to act like her stare didn’t burn, consuming you completely, but you reverberated through it.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I only got it because Seowon unnie is injured, anyway. She didn’t even audition.”

“I see.” Karina says. Her eyes examine your body so intensely you gulp, reaching out for your water bottle. She follows your every move, like a fox out for a hunt. “Do you want to have lunch? We can finally have some time for us, then. You’ve been so busy.” Her tone is sarcastic, and you know she’s fully aware of the distance you’ve been putting on between them. Her message is clear: she’s done playing and waiting for you to gather your thoughts and come back to her on your own, as you’d usually do whenever you argued.

Only you weren’t backing up or apologizing, this time.

“I can’t put on weight. I have fittings in 3 days.” Karina frowns, approaching until you were unable to continue your moves.

She looks at your body, eyes searching for any flaws with such hunger, you instantly feel heat invading your cheeks.

“You’re good.” Leaving no space for denial, she turns around and holds the door open, motioning for you to go first. “Now, let’s have lunch.”

-

“Is it something with your family?” Karina is the first to break the awkward silence that lingers on the lunch table, in hopes to stir anything inside you to make you stop playing with your salad and look at her face. It works: you look up, genuinely confused.

“What? No, they’re good.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, clearly not enjoying the date. If anything, your moves are mechanic, hesitant.

If it were any other day, you’d be talking until you had to grasp for air, filling Karina in every detail of your life for the second or third time, probably. She thinks she’ll go insane at the sight of you, sitting idle on the desk, with big, sad eyes.

“Good. It’s good they’re all well and healthy.” She says, then adds, lifting her brows. Even though she tries not to express how irritated she is by the situation, Karina’s not good at hiding her expressions. “What is wrong? You’re clearly different, but keep acting petty and not telling me what it is.”

Your mouth opens in a perfect “O” as the words leave your girlfriend’s mouth. Does she think you’re that immature? She must simply not care about her own words, then. You’re sure of it. “I’m not fucking petty.”

Karina stares at your arms, tightly crossed against your chest, and at your pout. She almost laughs, thinking about how adorable the sight is, but the fire in your eyes reminds her of the current situation. She leans back on the chair, motioning for you to do something. Anything.

“Talk, then.”

She infuriates you. Just sitting in front of you, so sure she’s done nothing wrong, as if you’re the only one to blame.

“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” It takes some deep breaths to not point a finger at her, so you just let out a dry laugh. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

“What do you mean by that?” Once again, she looks genuinely confused. Before you get to answer, thought, Karina’s phone rings. She picks up immediately, not at all pleased with how you rolled your eyes at the interruption. It’s Aeri, calling to say Bada had already arrived, and she’s the only one missing for them to start cleaning the choreo.

You get up before she has the chance to say anything, with a fake smile as you wait for her to call the waiter and pay for your date.

“I have to go, too.” You say, walking up slightly faster than her. When it’s time for you to actually part ways, though, you stop, unsure of what to do. You would rather not touch her; it still hurts, and part of you was indeed petty enough to deprive her of your touch, after her complaints.

Karina beats you to it, however. Before you register, she seals your lips in a delicate kiss, one you can’t help but melt on.

“See you soon, Y/n. I love you.” She says, before entering her company’s car and being driven away. She doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge the situation, and you’re happy for that.

Huffing in frustration, you make your way back towards your studio, in hopes to keep your strained relationship out of your mind, even if just for a few hours.

-

As much as Karina thinks it through, she can’t fantom where she’s gone wrong. You’ve just distanced yourself so suddenly, and it has left a hole in her heart, along with a lingering itch on her skin that makes her want to scratch her arms until they’re red and sore. She’s busy, and she knows you’re busy, too, but she’s had enough of this. She misses you, and she hates herself for complaining about how you’ve always shown her nothing but love. She took it for granted before, but she won’t anymore.

Her palms are slippery as she knocks on the dressing room’s door, not waiting much until she’s given permission to enter. She’s not surprised to find you alone— your friends told her you were usually the last one to change into normal clothes, as crowded spaces made you breathless and anxious. She is, though, surprised to find you looking down at your hands, so small and filled with sorrow, despite having performed flawlessly not even an hour ago.

You’re surrounded by stuffed animals, letters, and gifts from your friends and family, yet it still seems so… empty. And you know what’s lacking.

The girl standing by the door knows it, too.

“You looked beautiful on the stage tonight.” Karina says, carefully placing the huge bouquet she bought you on the empty part of the table, the one your hands rest. “As always. My beauty.”

You nod, gripping your chair as you try to ground yourself. Even your body navigated towards her; it was hard not to run into her arms and forget how hurt you were.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You truly didn’t, even though you had sent invites to her and the girls, they were always so busy— they’ve never attended, before.

It’s Karina’s turn to be hesitant — now. Trapping her hands in her pockets, she adds. “I don’t want to be absent from your life anymore.” The statement, all you’ve wanted to hear for so, so long, makes your heart nearly joint. You try to speak, but she’s still immersed in her words. “I miss you. And I have no fucking clue of why you’ve been so distant lately, but I miss your laugh, your touches—fuck, I miss everything about you. I know I’ve been so fucking selfish, and I’ve never realized you were the only one making efforts for us for so long.” You’re still looking at her through the mirror when she places her head on your shoulders, hands playing with your leotard’s thin strap to have something to occupy herself with. “I’m sorry.”

You gulp, looking at the beautiful flowers she got you. Being without Karina had turned you into a mess, but you still feel just as uneasy in her presence. No matter how much you try, you can’t seem to forget her words. How irritated she sounded, at the time, as if you were such a bother.

Your girlfriend was still waiting for her answer, so you take some flowers into your hands, as you ask, hesitant. “Don’t I suffocate you? I’m too much, I guess.”

Karina shakes her head. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?” Her hands move to your waist, subtly, her light fingers barely noticeable as they brush your covered skin.

“You can stop lying, you know. Just tell me if you do.” Your voice cracks, and it’s enough for Karina to realize how hurt you truly were, by the affirmation.

It comes to her, then, that you weren’t being petty, all over the past weeks. You were just hurt, and needed some time. She feels guilty for being the reason for such feelings.

Hugging you with a strong grip, she decides to be honest. “There was a time… where I felt like it, for a bit. I was overworked, and annoyed at everything. But then you vanished, and… it felt like there was something missing, I guess.”

Her face is all red from the confession, making you smile. It’s a rare occurrence, for Karina to talk about her feelings, and even more for her to confess anything. It’s the real proof she missed you; the girl’s willingness to be vulnerable, even if for a small moment.

You missed her so, so much. As always you’re the first to give in, no longer fighting the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to distance yourself and leave Karina.

“Let’s go home, ‘Jiminie.” You murmur, humming as you feel her hands all over your body, groping and twisting your skin, touch starved for anything you could provide. You whine, looking at her through her lashes. In this love bubble, your drunken state is enough for Karina to kiss you, her sweet taste marked with hunger.

“I don’t want to wait, though. I’ve missed you for too long.” She looks at you dead serious, adding, “Far too long.”

You nod, a moan escaping your mouth when Karina pushes all the makeup and the gifts onto the ground, her lithe hands gripping your thighs and urging you up on the vanity with ease. Once again, her fingers try to get through your leotard, huffing when she’s met with tights instead of bare skin.

You grab her wrists, giggling at her urgent moves. “Don’t.” You warn, turning your head when Karina meets your lips for another breathless, hungry kiss. Her mouth meets the corner of yours, instead. You’d forgotten how much you loved to tease her. “I have to perform tomorrow, and for weeks after that. Don’t ruin them.”

She retreats completely, then. Stepping back, she places her hands up, following your demands. Her body language is relaxed, but her voice is strained, stating how she truly feels. “You better take them off — now. And give me a show.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of sweetness, but another sharp look from Karina and you’re quick to do as told. Her attention is solely on you, admiring your precise moves. You’re just as graceful and beautiful as when you went on stage, and Karina drinks on the vision.

Without rush, you unbutton your costume until it falls from your body, lifting yourself up to let the fabric dangle on the ground. Your body is exposed to your girlfriend’s touch. You’re drenched, desperate to have her after so long apart. You can feel the heat on your skin, as you reach out to have her close once again. It lingers, only deepening with the hungry, messy kiss you and Karina share. Her hands meet your neck, and you gasp the moment you feel her fingers blocking your airways. The dizziness, along with her wet mouth on your chin, then marking your neck as she has her share of you, just as starved. You’re too light-headed to complain about the bruises, being so quick to turn into a moaning, breathless mess.

“I missed you t-too much.” You murmur, drawing your head back as she licks her way down on your body. You watch, starstruck, as she falls down on her knees, hands spreading your thighs with ease.

You take a hold of her long, dark hair, but don’t motion to force your girlfriend’s face into your cunt— you know better than that. Instead, you wait, eagerly, as she parts your folds. Her other hand comes to collect your juices, proving on your sweetness.

“I’m obsessed with you.” She mutters, breath hot on your cunt. Her eyes meet yours, and she’s just as breathless. “Fucking obsessed. Do you understand? This is all mine.”

Without a warning, she licks a big stripe of your pussy, her nose bumping onto your clit without much pressure. The action, though not rough, is more than enough to have lewd, loud sounds come out of your mouth. The only thing on your mind is your girlfriend. Her touches and the pleasure she was always so eager to give you.

“I’ll worship you because you’re mine.”

Perhaps your relationship was built on empty promises. But as for the moment, the only thing that matters is Karina’s hot, warm breath on your skin, and how right it feels.

[frudoo]

just saw the anon for reader helping slasher 141 and now im thinking about actually doing the whole thing. like finding someone, kidnapping them and torturing them. she does it as a gift or surprise. maybe its their anniversary and she wants to give them the best gift ever.

I love this idea, but I just can't see reader ever participating in the torture aspect of her boys' work. She's absolutely not above kidnapping, though.

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Y'all this one is gross (just not in a gory way). Kidnapping/drugging.

 “I have to say, little girl, you look absolutely delicious tonight.”

     You giggle, allowing him to twirl you and trying not to suffocate on the smell of his cheap cologne. The man is loaded and he won’t even spend a pretty penny on some quality fragrance? Although, what else could you expect from a conman like him?

     “Not so bad yourself, Mr. Chief,” you purr, yelping softly when he pinches your asscheek teasingly.

     You want to vomit. Really, you could do it right here, all over his pristinely polished shoes, or on his tailored suit jacket and annoyingly bright tie. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this charade up for the past couple of weeks is astonishing, to say the least, especially given the fact that you’ve been hiding it from the boys. It kills you to see their disappointed faces every time you turn down a night in with them, making up poor excuses about how you’re just going to decorate your classroom, or that your friend has been having a rough time and you’re going to her house to support her.

     The truth is that you’re doing it for their benefit. Herschel Shepherd has been on your boys’ radar for years now, long before they ever met you. It’s just been too risky for them to attempt anything, be it a kidnapping or assassination. He’s too public of a figure as head of police, meaning that he’s protected by a multitude of security personnel, and on top of that, can easily defend himself. Even if they tried to befriend him, suspicions would be raised and it would likely fail.

     That’s where you enter. You’re exactly the chief’s type—a pretty young thing with big, soft tits and a charming smile. The only thing you’re missing is the naivety he’s so desperate to corrupt, but you’ve proven yourself a wonderful actress and he’s none the wiser. For someone who used to be a detective, he really is clueless. Someone should have taught the old man not to flirt with strangers on the internet. You’re just grateful that he took the bait so easy, all too eager to get his dick wet. 

     “Since I’ve treated you to such a nice dinner, how about giving me some dessert?” You hear his knees pop when he bends to whisper into your ear.

     “Anything for you,” you murmur back, “Daddy.”

     For the love of all things holy, you cannot wait to get this bullshit over with. Shepherd wraps his arm around your waist and ushers you into his limo—he really wanted to go all out for his ‘girlfriend,’ apparently. The inside smells like cigar smoke and you have to bite back a frown. It makes you think of John and how desperately you’d prefer to be in his arms instead. In all of their arms. With every disgusting, sloppy kiss the sick fuck peppers across your jawline, you have to remind yourself that it’s all for them.

     For them, for you, for every poor family he’s ever screwed over. It’s all too familiar, the coverups, the paying off coworkers and employees so that they keep their mouths shut. You’ve read about countless cases against heinous criminal acts that were suddenly dismissed when a certain slob threw a large sum of money towards the judges. You can’t even begin to imagine how many women alone have been assaulted because this corrupt piece of shit paid to let their abusers go—and for what? To gain favor? To get reelected? God knows he cheats his way through the system anyway.

     You feel your hand being tugged and realize that you’ve arrived at the parking lot where your car still is, some random garage located in the heart of the downtown area—about an equal walk from any little shop or restaurant in the vicinity. Your ‘date’ furrows his eyebrows and looks at you, confused.

     “A little Toyota Corolla is more inconspicuous than a limousine, don’t you think?” you hum as you pull out your keys.

     “Right,” Shepherd nods, opening the driver’s side door for you. “We are still going to the hotel?”

     “Of course.”

     He buckles into the passenger seat while you start the car, messing with the air conditioning like it’s his right. You avoid rolling your eyes as you begin driving, softly humming along to the radio. There’s a tin of mints in your glovebox that you pull out and offer to him. All according to plan, he takes the bait.

     Almost instantly after popping the tainted mint into his bastard mouth, he starts getting woozy, saying odd things and swaying in his seat. Adrenaline rushes through your veins—this is really happening. You’re kidnapping the chief of police, your husbands’ most desired target, driving him back to your home to be tortured and killed. It’s surreal, and there’s guilt eating away at whatever sense of retribution you’d created in your head. Still, there’s no turning back now.

     No turning back from the rattle of his unconscious body as you drive over the gravel path leading to the barn. No turning back from the strain you put on yourself as you haul his deadweight through the random pieces of hay, nor the act of tying his arms behind the metal pole in the stable where horses should be but has only kept victims. This is a decision you made and will have to live with. For the greater good, you ask yourself, or for the praise you know you’ll receive from your boys? In the end, it’s all one and the same to you. 

     As you stand over the comatose-laden sleazebag, you hardly make out the sound of the barn door slamming open and all four of your lovers trailing in with wide eyes.

     “Bloody hell.”

     “No fuckin’ way.”

     “Steamin’ Jesus, hen.”

     “Darlin’, how in the fuck did you manage this?”

     There’s a beat of silence before you turn around to look at them, your face maddeningly neutral.

     “Happy anniversary, guys.”