#ha ha i have... no idea what to tag this with
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gojosoups · 3 days ago
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Late Night Treat ── teaser
gojo satoru x reader | 18+, modern au
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Summary: Stuck at work after your deadbeat boyfriend forgets to pick you up from your overtime shift, you find yourself walking down the streets at midnight in your uncomfortable work clothes and 5-inch heels. Tired and frustrated, and your phone long dead, you stumble upon a remote gas station in search of help, where you meet a mysterious figure clad in all-black leather, refueling his motorcycle at an ungodly hour.
Pairing: biker! gojo satoru x reader
Warning/tags: 18+, smut, slight angst, modern au, female reader, strangers to one night stand or moree, cheating, reader has a dead beat bf, jealousy, use of vulgar language, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband!, [more tags tba]
a/n: this was sm fun to write, also idk shit about bikes.. I just picked wtv bike google told me LMFAO. art credits to @/uruyuuu.
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Who said walking home alone in a pair of 5-inch heels was an easy feat? No one, that's who. Because what sane person would walk down the scummy streets of downtown at an ungodly hour when all buses and subway stations are closed and not a single taxi is in sight?
Fuck work and fuck your promotion. 
All you want right now is to be under your warm blanket, with a glass of wine and some shitty Netflix series playing in the background.
Oh and fuck your deadbeat of a boyfriend too—probably too busy gooning off to some low-quality hentai to pick up your call, leaving you stranded at work while you're freezing your ass off.
Shutting your phone off after the 5th missed call, you shove it into your purse, probably getting lost in the mess of paperwork and pens, cursing his name under your breath.
You continue your trek, walking along the unsteady gravel road, each step bringing you closer to a sprained ankle, but honestly, you didn’t have enough energy to care. 
And if your situation couldn't get any worse—you were lost. 
The buzzing of fluorescent lights pulls you out of your inner turmoil. Snapping your head and somehow managing not to give yourself whiplash, you find a rundown gas station barely five feet away. 
Everything about this screamed “BAD IDEA!!”
But you were running out of fucks to give.
Ankles aching, you near the gas station. The neon sign of the gas station buzzing and flickering, with a few missing letters, renaming it as “G— Stat—n.”
You swear you almost saw a comically large tumbleweed rolling down the road. 
Somehow, you manage to haul your ass to the deserted gas station, your brows furrowing as you see a stranger pumping gas into his Yamaha YZF-R1—a sleek black bike accented with deep blue—under the flickering neon sign.
Well, at least you know how you're getting home now.
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taglist: @baepsays @myahfig4 @joemama-2 @levislug @etsuniiru @vm4879bb-blog @lil-cinn @nanasukii28 @1satoruu @dahliabite @strawberiicreme @madamechrissy @memymay @moncher-ire @penguingirlanzu @antisocialinlw @angelina7890 @oh-my-god-donald @descargueestoporgojosatoru @synthe4u @jkslaugh97 @blubearxy @collectionofdolls @ourfinalisation @byakuya61085 @re-tired-succubus @manyno ── please have your age visible on your blog to join the taglist
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.
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paracosmicka · 2 days ago
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sonic tma au? 👀👀👀👀👀
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE POSTED IT ABOUT IT EVEN THO I HAVE SO MUCH STUFF ABOUT MY SONIC/TMA AU
Okay to start out with, I’ve been calling the “Primal Fears au” and it started out as a working title but I don’t really have any better ideas and the tag I have on all of my posts about this tma au is #primal fears au (idk how to imbed a hyperlink into text but like if you go into the search thingy over my blog and just type that tag in you’ll see all my previous posts about it that are from OVER A YEAR AGO IT’S BEEN SO LONG ����)
Okay uhhhhh idk how to organize this so just get ready for a shit ton of sketches and art lol
here are some more fleshed out character sheets (than my very post about them) for Sonic and Shadow, they’re not final yet tho obviously
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was fighting demons drawing Shadow’s main design for some reason
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general sketch ideas for Sonic and Shadow
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And my favorite part of this au is that I just get to categorize all the Sonic characters into which fear entity would they serve so here are some character sheet ideas:
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Okay this last one is Infinite and I know he’s not everyone’s favorite bc he’s just so…..mid ig in the games but redesigning him as an avatar of the Spiral has been so fun. Also bonus points if you know what Doctor Who episode I stole this dialogue from lol:
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and finally I thought I’d just share an idea I had of a “cover” for my Primal Fears au
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Okay I think those are all the presentable sketches I have but there are so so so many more ideas I have and it’s not going to help bc I’m feeling the annual urge to relisten to The Magnus Archives again especially bc the new season of The Magnus Protocol comes out soon.
But yeah anyway feel free to ask any questions/share ideas if you’d made your own TMA/Sonic au I love yapping about horror and this au is like my child. Actually that’s not a very good analogy bc all of my sonadow aus are my babies. I just love sonadow sorry I will continue to be insane
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khionefr0st · 2 days ago
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I already reblogged this with a novel’s worth of tags but just hold up. Cos this makes so much sense that it’s making me think
TLDR I changed my interpretation of Omelas and totally agree w/ OP
This analysis is actually so good that I have completely restructured my own interpretation of the Omelas. Prior to this post my sole interpretation was that Le Guin was trying to make commentary on certain different real world issues, issues like how we all use phones that were made with cobalt stained by the blood of deadly labor by black children on the other side of the world. But OP’s right, this isn’t exactly the case. Because the text actually presents its most fundamental premise in its most quoted paragraph - Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting, the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain, etc. which is to say that the issue the text is directly addressing is the fact that people cannot imagine a better world, a happy world, without the existence of a system that hurts others. It tells you right there in the fucking text but every single interpretation I’ve seen thus far has missed it. Hell, I missed it. I have never ever seen Omelas be interpreted this way before.
And I actually went to read Omelas again after this because the more I read it, the more it makes sense. It answers all my questions I had when I first read it. Like – if Omelas is supposed to be commentary on capitalism and the bliss of the Global North built on the suffering of the Global South, why did Le Guin insist on making the city of Omelas as ideal as possible? Why didn’t she make the city more akin to a society that is actually a product of capitalism? A society that comes with puritanism and a military if that was really the point she wanted to make? Because not only does she include the most ideal, happy utopia (and Le Guin is clearly very educated in terms of politics/socioeconomics because she knows what a Utopia looks like, with drugs and sex as part of society) she insists the audience imagine it on their own. She encourages the viewer to supplement the Utopia with their own ideas of what an ideal world looks like to them.
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She explicitly tells the audience to imagine an ideal city that “suits” us. So not necessarily a capitalist society. But why?
It’s because her point isn’t about utilitarianism or whether it’s worth it to make someone suffer if it means lots of people get to be happy. It’s because her point is that we have to reject the idea that a world where nobody suffers is impossible. The people who walk away from the omelas – there are many ways to interpret them still, and now that I’ve recontextualized the whole story in this perspective there are so many other passages I want to dissect but anyway – the people who walk away from the omelas could possibly represent the people who walk away from that idea, that the child must suffer for their happiness. You can’t imagine where they’re going, because you can’t even fathom abandoning the idea that a world exists where nobody suffers and everybody can be happy. That’s the message of The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.
(also obviously im not saying this is the only correct interpretation or anything just this is the one that personally makes the most sense to me so I have now adapted it lol)
i have to say i think its kind of baffling when omelas is taken as a very literal trolley problem about a tortured kid instead of, like, pointedly making fun of the common idea that a positive world, social change, pleasure itself, must come with some sort of painful caveat in order for that happiness to hold meaning or exist in the first place... so many interpretations treat the idea of people walking away from a (very obviously hypothetical) utopia with an even more hypothetical evil underbelly as them lazily giving up on reforming Omelas the Real City, rather than them philosophically abandoning the idea that the (again, entirely theoretical) Omelas represents (that pleasure cannot exist without pain).
what is even the relevance of this to the "I would save the kid instead of abandoning it because I actually believe in changing the world" interpretations.
The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. If you can't lick 'em, join 'em. If it hurts, repeat it. But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. We have almost lost hold; we can no longer describe happy man, nor make any celebration of joy. (...) Do you believe? Do you accept the festival, the city, the joy? No? Then let me describe one more thing.
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custardtartsfan · 2 days ago
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Jason Todd head canons that have accumulated over time
many thoughts about the boy constantly rattle around my brain and i would like to share them ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) nothing hanky panky ish for i do not like to think about that
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general bullshit ᝰ.ᐟ
he doesnt trust modern technology. he has a Motorola razr. no he will not upgrade, stop asking
has VERY messy hand writing. straight chicken scratch. barley legible
smoked during his late teens (post resurrection period, he was going through it). tried quitting in his early twenties, he bought a menthol flavour geek bar but threw it out cause Roy made fun of him
it wasnt even one of the cool ones with a screen. smh
he has a weird nostalgic affection for the thrift
it reminds him of being a kid, in the rare moments that his mother was sober enough to take him somewhere. and it was nice, his mom was conscious, all was well
and he could get whatever he wanted! he wanted a toy? sure bud, its only a dollar. why the hell not?
he recently walked into a Goodwill and damn near burst an artery when he looked at the tag on a pair of pants. it was NOT like this back in his day
his hair is like wavy, like not curly but wavy. however, he has no idea how to really care for it. shits dry is what im saying
i think hes very competitive about stupid shit
not like he gets pissy about mario kart, he will race you to see who can fold their socks the fastest
largest of the batfam. vertically and horizontally. hes a beefy dude. a brick shithouse
i think hes also the kind of dude that needs to know someone very well before he could consider dating them. id even go as far to say hes somewhere on the aro spectrum
i think he has a very high spice tolerance. like youll pry his siracha out of his cold re-dead hands. he LOVES African curry (yes this one is based off me) thats like his perfect kind of spice
back to his hatred of technology, he collects cds to listen to instead of streaming
he has one of those hip disk players with the headphones. Red Hood has been seen with a walkman
also hates tv, but will watch the news willingly. he will sit down and watch Wolf Blitzer of his own accord
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romantic (୨୧• ꒳ •)=:♡
remember when i said he has the handwriting of an 18 month old toddler? yea well thats a little unfortunate cause he LOVES leaving notes for his lover. when he has to slip out the window for a job in the middle of the night, he writes a little note - “had to take care of something, be back soon. with bagels. love, Jay :)” but its written so janky his lover is spending the whole time hes gone trying to decipher it
dont tell him that though, he might cry
hes not a talker particularly. words tend to come out wrong in his experience. instead, he likes gifts acts of service to show you he cares
shopping with him and youre eying a particular top for a while? guess what’s mysteriously appeared in your laundry basket
lowq doesn’t have motion though..soo it might have been Bruce card. but honestly? money is money who gaf
what he occasionally lacks in funds he makes up for in willingness to let you do whatever you want to him
he will waddle after you in sephora, freaking out the occasional employee cause holy FUCK who invited the punisher, letting you swatch whatever you want on his hand
if you’re concerned about the milk in the fridge being yuck, give it to him to taste. he’ll let you know
there is no mountain to high, no dubious forgotten leftover too unhappy looking
cannot cook for SHIT. but he loves to eat
he will mention wanting food and stare at you longingly until you go to the kitchen
hes not gonna be playing fortnite while you’re cooking though, he can chop stuff. you may not want him within 50 feet of a place where food is prepared but he will offer
bless his heart
runs hot like a furnace. probably because hes a large meaty boy
he will grumble like a pensioner when you tuck yourself into his chest at night when its cold, but we both know damn well hes gonna be giggling and kicking his steel toed boots when he tells Roy about it later
he had pretty mixed, strewing negative opinions, about his little white tuft of hair at the front. hes tried cutting it, it grew back the same. he bought box dye, it doesnt take. so hes stuck with it. and he cant say hes happy about it
until you came along, all full of love and life, telling him you loved it. you though it framed his face perfectly and suited him great. you and your fancy affection fuck you
(he was cheesing for hours)
okay lets get sad now
hes got BADD anxiety about hurting you without meaning to. its a reasonable concern, hes a big dude. and these hands dont do a lot of cradling as a rule, more beating heads in
he needs to be reassured, but would rather roll around in broken glass then swim in lemonade than let that be known. hes more of a stare at you until you sooth him
he likes to be kissed and cuddled and cared for. so what? hes only incredibly ashamed. it doesnt matter how many times you re iterate that he has no reason to be, hes a stubborn bitch
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thats all ive got! i hope you enjoyed reading my real time jason todd related word association. most of these were typed in a fury on the mobile web app on the subway so..if the formatting is yucky thats up to god (-.-;)y-~~~
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darinawrites · 3 days ago
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๑—Telling squid game characters you want a cat—๑
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Characters: Se-mi, Hyun ju, In ho, Dae ho, Thanos, Salesman
A/n: This was requested a while ago, but Tumblr is weird and I can't find it </3 hope you still read this. Also, the damm tags don't work 😭 can someone tell me what's wrong and why they won't work constantly?
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┆彡Se-mi
*ੈI see Se-mi as the biggest cat person ever. There's something about those small creatures that have a soft spot in her heart. So, of course she'd be overjoyed if you suggested it before her.
*ੈHer favorite would be a black cat, they're the cutest and cuddliest for her.
*ੈOverfeeds the cat once you buy it. She can't help it, one small pleading of a meow and the snacks are already out. You'd have to remind her and she'd understand to be more resistant in the future.
*ੈBuys only the essentials, but the most high quality ones you could ever think of. She doesn't believe a cat needs so much, but she does think they need good material.
*ੈBuys small white bows to clip it on the kitty, the contrast so vast. It reminds her a bit of the style she has, like a small reflection of herself.
*ੈThe cat will be sleeping on the bed, no buts.
*ੈShe will treat the cat as like a child she birthed herself. She isn't amazed of the idea of getting a child, so this would be a great substitute! Her kitty is the one and only child she needs.
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┆彡Salesman (can we get this guy a name)
*ੈWouldn't be fond of the idea. He doesn't like animals generally, a pet wouldn't be ideal for him and it would take a lot of convincing for him to even let you speak out your idea.
*ੈAgainst all odds, you did somehow manage to get the small kitty. But be prepared for even more work. Do not expect him to do anything, it was your own idea.
*ੈBuying food and essentials. Vet trips and feeding. It's all up to you, you should've known what you were signing up for.
*ੈHe does not even acknowledge the kitties existence. Everytime it purrs as it rubs against his leg once he's back from work he doesn't react, not in the slightest. Despite your pleads, he simply answers that the pest is lucky enough to even live with you.
*ੈMaybe one day his cold facade would fade away (it won't).
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┆彡In-ho
*ੈWouldn't oppose the idea nor be fond of it. He's indifferent and couldn't care much about a pet, especially since he's filled with work most of the time. He'll get you one if you want to, but don't think he wanted it.
*ੈRarely does anything with the cat. He'll do basics like feeding it, but doesn't go beyond that. He doesn't really see much in the ball of fluffy cotton.
*ੈGives you as much money as you want for the cat, while he doesn't care much for it he knows they take a lot of work to properly take care of. Doesn't know a thing about anything you're buying, so he just hopes its only essentials that are draining his wallet (they're not).
*ੈOver the time, he will grow fond of the cat. Against his own wishes, he starts to like the purrs, the fur, the accidental bites. He won't ever admit the care he grew to have, it's a just a pet, no?
*ੈBut his indifferent facade can't fool you. You saw the way he spends more time with the little kitty, letting it in his office, letting it crawl on his hand to pick it up. You won't say anything, but a small smile would come up at the thought of your cold husband warming up to the pet.
*ੈPicks the cat up in his lap any chance he gets. It's so relaxing to feel the vibrations of purrs against him as he softly strokes the fur while doing his work.
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┆彡Hyun ju
*ੈNever thought of the idea. She was content with the both of you, the suggestion of something else never popping up in her mind.
*ੈYou have to give her a little time to think about it. This is a big responsibility, something she's a bit nervous about to mess up.
*ੈ"Are you sure this is what you really want, and it will make you happy?" once you nod in response and she reveals that she'll get you a cat, you're ecstatic.
*ੈAfter hours of deciding, you finally chose a small white kitty! She wouldn't care much about the type of cat she'd get, so she gave the authority to you to pick one out.
*ੈSpent hours of research to know what its trying to say. If she should pet it or it's uncomfortable, if the kitty's hungry or not. You just know she's trying her best. <3
*ੈLazy mornings with her and a fluffy cat on your thigh while her big arms cuddle you is all you've ever needed.
*ੈThe difference between the small kitten in her huge palms always makes you melt.
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┆彡Thanos
*ੈTruth be told you were the one hesitant to tell him, despite the immense joy you'd get from a kitten. You weren't sure he would be responsible enough, but at the end you gave in to the desires and told him.
*ੈOf course he'd say yes, he loves any type of animals. Even if more exotic ones would be his preferred ones. As long as you're happy and have a pet, he'll put it aside.
*ੈBuying the most energetic orange cat you've ever seen. He needs an energetic companion, one that matches him.
*ੈAnd you just know he will give it the stupidest and absurd name you've heard. There's no stoping him, sadly. But you'll somehow grow used to it.
*ੈBrings the cat everywhere, especially in his recording studio. They're inseparable, seen always together. That's his buddy now, even adding some of his meows to his songs once he has the chance to.
*ੈVictim of overfeeding #2. Everytime it comes up to him he simply gives him a snack. What else is he supposed to do?
*ੈYou also have to tell him to be careful when he cuddles kitty, that man is practically squeezing every bit of life out of the poor thing.
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┆彡Dae ho
*ੈDae ho is definitely a dog person. Despite his love for all animals, he'd still prefer a dog over a cat. But he wouldn't oppose it, not at all. Especially once he sees how happy it makes you.
*ੈYou'd play a little game and whoever wins decides. And to your surprise, you actually won against him! (he let you win to see you smile)
*ੈHe'll be honest, he wasn't exactly fond of the little brown kitten you brought back. But seeing your smile and the glint in your eyes made him appreciate the cat a little more.
*ੈAnd, don't worry. It won't take long before he's swooning over the sight of the kitty. The little disappointment of the loss of a dog not lasting long as he's now in the trance of the big goopy black eyes the kitten has.
*ੈAlways cuddling with it. He can't help it, the fur so fluffy and the size smaller than his hands, it's too much for his heart to take.
*ੈEqually shares the chores of the cat. He isn't one to do nothing nor everything, you're both equal and both love the kitty.
*ੈChooses the cutest and most meaningful name he can muster. Something that will always remind himself of you when he calls out for the cat <3
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torntvs · 2 days ago
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#01 ★ BABY IM SO LONELY IN MY MANSION
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NANAMI KENTO; co-workers, nsfw, minor dni.
summary: you and your co-worker have a differentiated affinity towards each other. when a stupid office party has you both escaping with each other, you find yourself being fucked for the first time by your office crush. tags: nsfw, fluffy on some part, p in v sex, handjob, eating out, nasty asf, mention of cervix, overstimulation, lots of cumming. lots literally. both are kinda lovesick, wordy smut because it's my first time writing smut...
word count: 3.5k
ayen's talk: it's my first time writing here so please forgive me if this is boring, but i enjoyed writing it so much! thank you for reading.
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Nanami Kento was a man of respect. Disciplined, punctual and whatever it took to be a good man. The idea of emotions was a contradiction to his nature, and naturally when he saw his co-worker observing him; apologies, checking him out. He choked on his whiskey. His amber eyes a little hazy due to intoxication, fingers gently gliding across his lips to wipe the liquid off. 
It was nothing new to him, people checked him out all the time. The taut muscles underneath stretched his polo shirt. Sometimes the button strained against his braid chest agonisingly, fighting for their life. Women, divorced or married came to him with a smile so charming that any man would swoon over and take them to his bed.
But it was Nanami Kento now. This man had a strict policy of no one night stand, even if he had few flings in his teenage years. 
You, being the intrigued coworker that Nanami worked with, kept your eyes on him. Drinking up every detail of his figure. Sturdy body, baritone voice, amber eyes— he's so dreamy. Certainly, your night when your ecstasy peaked were filled with his thoughts. How would his fingers skim across your skin? How would his lips trail down your body leaving a burning fire in its wake, how would he sound? How did his cock looked—
You shook your head furiously, stupid stupid stupid. You groaned as you clutched your own glass of orange juice, opting for not getting drunk tonight. Your fingers pressed across your thighs in an attempt to smoothen out the creases or distract you from your thoughts, so unholy.
Nanami on the other hand stared at you bewildered. Orange juice? Orange juice— he rubbed his face. Maybe in disappointment or endearment he didn't know. You were definitely someone he had seen around, maybe had stolen a glance or two during meetings, or secretly slipped a cup of coffee in your office or a packet of your favourite sandwich. It may sound obsessive, but he shared a good relationship with you. 
Except—
You both were crazily attracted towards each other. So crazy, that one good Monday while brushing your teeth in the morning you'd moan around your brush thinking it's Kento’s finger. Your face warmed up at the embarrassing memory as your hand shot up to rub your forehead. Fucking hell, he'll make me go nuts.
Nanami hummed, the alcohol leaving him a little delirious amidst the party. Even if you were not drunk, you could get drunk on the sight of him. Face flushed, lips parted as he looked at his tie, hair disheveled as he ran his fingers through them again and again. It was a while before you were snapped out of your delusions.
“You are staring.” 
Oh the velvety baritone ringing in your ears as your eyes looked up– a very much flushed yet mildly tipsy Nanami took his seat in front of you. Fingers wrapping around his glass of whiskey. Oh god— good heavens he looks like my finest dream. You bit your lips, an attempt to shy away. Face flushing pink as you took a sip of your orange juice. “Orange juice?” He asked curiously. You chuckled nervously– damn what am I supposed to answer— “I like my drink non alcoholic.”
Nanami raised an eyebrow in question, leaning in a little. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making his decency slip away or his own thoughts mangled into something that said— yeah man, it's today or never. Your words died on your lips as you saw his questioning stare. Oh fuck, did I loose my first impression—
“Wanna get out?” Nanami cursed himself in his head. What are you? Eighteen? He groaned inside his throat, masking his irritation with himself with a cough. You tilted your head, fingers already trembling around your glass of juice. 
“S-sure—?” 
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You regret saying sure, that's for sure. Because the way this man had you pressed against the elevator walls, kissing you hungrily. All rowdy and dominant– his respect thrown away. Maybe you were wrong about his decency being thrown away because his fingers trailed across your jaw. Softly cardling your face in his hands as he pressed his body onto yours. 
This all began with a simple, harmless offer. “Want to come over for some tea?” That all being said, built up a stupid sexual tension (not that is wasn't there before, it surely was with the way you were checking him out at the club, or the way his hands gently brushed against against your waist when he was escorting you out of the club, or was it when his eyes met yours in the elevator while talking about having a significant other.)
Whatever began this stupid foreplay, it was making you feel hot. Face flushed and eyes wide open as your hands wrapped around his blurry arms— you didn't know. Was it in an attempt to pull him closer tpor to push him away with embarrassment. You opted for the second.
Gripping his tie, with the weird strangled moan that left your throat as you pushed him away. Nanami was flushed vermilion, eyes droopy and breath ragged as his hands stilled over your waist. His senses started to flush back in and his eyes widened— your lipstick smeared across your lips as you gripped into his tie tightly, knuckles turning white. “I— I am so SORRY—” he started to babble, but before he could stray further into the infinite loop of self embarrassment— your hands pressed against his mouth. “At Least— l-let me– get ready?” You spoke out, turning a deep shade of red, blood pressure reaching its peak that you could hear your pulse in your ears. Nanami too could hear your heartbeat, him blinking slowly. 
“Oh?” he spoke, with a teasing grin. His fingers pressed against the supple flesh of your waist earning a gasp from you. Lips hovering over your ear, “Are you… scared my darling?” he murmured, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulled away your hand from his tie. “Tell me to stop and I'll step back.” his chest rumbled against yours and a shiver ran down your spine. Gaze moving upwards in a desperate attempt to meet his— nervous, nervous, nervous. 
He chuckled, his amber eyes gazing intensely into yours as his other hand cupped your face brushing across the apple of your cheeks. You would have blamed it on the alcohol if you didn't know this man’s tolerance— and by the looks of it he was tipsy but not drunk. The teasing smile that curved around his lips, and his gaze. It left a different kind of heat pooling between your stomach. Slow and warm; spreading like a wildfire. Your breath hitched as the elevator door dinged and opened, eyes wary as it started out— trying to locate any other human near your vicinity. 
A contented hum emitted from the back of his throat as you dragged him by his tie– chuckling as you stole a kiss or two between the corridors to your apartment. Nanami's hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed you feverishly, a soft intensity but with a deeper intent. Softly lapping against yours, eyes droopy as he held your chin this time. Pressed against your apartment door, your fingers fumbled with the keys— too busy kissing the man rather than getting back in your apartment.
Frustratedly pulling away from the kiss you still fumbled with the key. Kento, as mentioned before, a man of great patience swiftly takes the keys away from your hands and pulls your back into the kiss. Embarrassment seeps deep in your veins as you hear the familiar ‘click’ of your door and he's pushing both of you inside your cozy apartment. 
It's all more messy from here, his fingers hooking around your tight pencil skirt as he tries to unzip the side and make you sit on the nearest flat surface. You gasp as you hear a sharp ‘skrt’— the sound of your expensive pencil skirt tearing. “Sorry— will buy you another—” he mumbled into your mouth, trailing wet kisses all over your jaw and neck, settling you on the kitchen counter. You whined feeling his fingers slip under your shirt, trailing the skin on your stomach but not going past that. 
“Pretty girl— all messed up for me.” He grunted, wrapping your legs around his waist and picking you up. “Which—? Which way’s the bedroom sweetheart?” He groaned, leaving love bites all over your neck. 
It was all too much for you, the fiery touches— the open-mouthed kisses and the subtle skin touching. You were feeling like fire, core aching with want as your brows furrowed. A whimper left your lips as he put you down on your bed, hovering over your body. “So– so so beautiful, wanted to love ya since I saw ya darling—” he murmured, unbuttoning your blouse at a slow pace, savouring every inch of your skin with his gaze and kisses. 
By this time, Kento was painfully aware of his groin straining against his slacks. He groaned as he stared at how fucked out you looked, only with heavy makeout session? What else can he do to you?
You pouted, as your fingers reached down, maintaining eye contact and feeling a little silly for remembering your friend's ‘it’s all in the eyes baby’ as you palmed his crotch. To which you had been blessed with a heavenly whimper from the gorgeous man above you, eyes closed, brows furrowed, sweat glistening at the corner of his neck that made you wanna lick him up & you did.
A slowly languid lick against his neck, pressing your lips against his pulse point. Sucking on the skin above it, and leaving a gentle bite— trailing tender marks against his jaws and neck as your fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, raking through his blond hair. The man shuddered, his hips buckling involuntary as he parted his mouth in a moan.
Heaven sent an angel, you thought as your fingers worked furiously on breaking the buttons of his polo shirt. Nanami bewildered and flustered held your hands, “W-what are you doing—?” He stuttered. He stuttered, and that made a vicious grin curl up on your face as you replied airly, but with dominant tone— “You ruined my skirt, only fair if I return the favour—”
A laugh rumbled through his throat, his hands again shaking around your waist and pulling you up, making you sit on his lap as he laid on the bed. “You bet.” He chuckled, fingers brushing against the skin under your bra. Already half undone shirt and wrecked lipstick all over your face, you took a sharp breath at the sight under you. 
Maroon lipstick stains across honey brown skin, drunken and glazed amber eyes staring back at you with a love sick grin. Oh, absolutely sick. Absolutely wrecked. A wicked thought passed through your mind before you grind your hips onto his crotch. The love sick smile soon morphing into a pained pleasure as his eyes closed. The sounds this man emitted made your cunt clech harshly.
“You minx– ah ah slow down—” he grunted, as he felt you rut against his clothed groin. The friction created a heat that made his cock swell up ten times more in his pants. Oh the delight on your face as you felt him against your wet cunt. You threw your head back, buckling your hips in to feel some kind of friction. “D-darling slow down—” he gasped as your fingers fumbled with his belt. With ease you were able to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down freeing him. He let out a sound, between cough and a whimper as the cool air touched his tip. Red and angry, with pearls of precum dripping down his length. 
He was big, really. And you blinked for a moment taking in his anatomy before your eyes. Surely, your first time should be someone like him— and the idea of this, and by this you meant his cock entering you— made a weird excitement tingle around your toes. “P-pretty…” you mumbled, fingers brushing against the tip as you admired the small trail of golden hair at the base. Slowly wrapping your fingers around his cock, hands moving slowly as you observed his expressions, the heave of his chest, the way he cursed with every breath and begged for release.
Kento Nanami was a man of respect, but the way he had planned to fuck her disrespectfully tonight crumbled when he saw her twinkling eyes taking in his disheveled state under her touch. He cursed, “F-fuck— fuck, FUCK.” buckling his hips into her hand as she licked the tip, pressing her nail softly on the base and feeling his balls tighten. You were mesmerised by his reactions— a man of such neutrality crumbling with your touch. 
He felt embarrassment run over his face as he felt his high approach, “Fuck— darling s-stop ‘m gunna c-cum—” his breath hitched, vision turning white as he felt himself release. White spurts of thick cum dribbled down your hands and lips as you gasped. Fuck, he knew he was going to cum too soon— too good and by your glorious looks of curiosity. He huffed, pressing his arms over his eyes, breathing in and out at a steady pace. 
Slowly moving away, and licking your hands as you did so, you sat on top of him. He looked… so vulnerable—
A gasp pushed past your lips as you felt yourself being pushed down into the mattress. Eyes widening, as Kento forcefully pulled off his already ruined shirt— also urging you to take off your blouse. His fingers worked too fast for you to realise he was tearing away your slacks. With a squeal of your own, you find Kento between your legs pressing sweet kisses on your inner thighs. Dewy eyes staring back at you as your face runs hot from embarrassment or want— you knew not what. With a shy voice, but still feeling safe to speak up you mumbled whispering, “It’s… my first… time…” 
Kento looked up, stopping his actions. Pupils blown wide as he takes in your flustered state. A tender smile lingers on his lips as he places another soft kiss against your inner thighs before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “G’unna make it worth a lifetime.” He grunted, pulling your leg over his shoulder as he blew softly on your soaked panties. A shudder ran through your body, fingers grasping the pillow under your head agonisingly tight as you try to close your thighs yet he pulls them open and gazes at you from there. “Say darling? Want me? ” He muttered, teeth biting softly on the soaked material on your panty before  pulling it away.. Eyes taking in the heavenly sight of your soaked cunt, slobbering up at all the teasing as humping— a testament to the activities occurring before he put a kiss on your cunt.
Such sweet streams of cries emitted from your mouth, clasping at his hair as you try to pry away. Kento was french kissing your pussy in such a vulgar manner, biting, sucking, abusing your poor core until you were in tears. Hands gripping at the roots of his hair  as he softly sucked on your clit making your arch your back in pleasure. His finger slowly making its way to rub your clit, tongue slowly pushing past your entrance as you squirmed at the warm mushiness of his tongue. Kento ate you like a man starved. His mouth sucking up every bit of your slick, fingers over your thighs and then pinching your clit. His other hand was busy bullying you entrance it seemed. The stretch from his fingers making you lock your leg around his head— his laugh tickled your core as he continued pulling out cries of pleasures out of you.
“Look— at her, so sweet mmhm–” he murmured, devouring your cunt. The overstimulation was really getting you, head light as you let tears stream down your cheeks. Trashing to a certain point as if the blooming pleasure promised a burst out of you. You came with an unexpected thrum against your ribs, legs trembling as Nanami let out a uff— Mind blank and already dumbed out, you blink lazily as you stare down.
Oh.
Oh no. Your eyes twitch as you force yourself to get back up but Kento pushed you back on the bed, straddling you under him once again. His face glistened with your release dripping down as he gave a smirk. A mean smirk as he hiked your leg over his shoulder. “You..” he hummed, pressing a kiss on your hands, “...squirted.” his grin back on. “And now— darling. Fuck you look so fucked out—” he grunted, pulling off your bra and letting the cool air kiss your skin. The straps had left some angry edges on your skin, to which he kissed the skin there softly. Tender bites against your bosom as his fingers playing with your nipples, earning a strangled cry from you. “You look so— fuck baby look at you trying to rut on me.”
There was this primal need that ganwes your abdomen. Kento with a sly smile pressed into your lower belly, humming contentedly and hitting your nub with his tip. “Ah— fuck baby, gonna make luv—” he breathed throught gritted teeth, body trembling as he rubbed himself onto your pulsating entrance. “If it hurts— lemme know—” he groans, pushing his tip in slowly.
The stretch, the oh so delicious, delirious, mind fuck stretch that had you arch your back and wrap your hips around him. Your hands wrapping tightly around his arms in an attempt to calm yourself down. The way Kento was struggling not to push himself all in but to admire the reactions he was pulling out of you. “Fuck— baby- fuccck—” his chest thrummed with his heartbeat as he stared into you eyes. 
“Come— on, deep yes deep breaths. Slowly— fuck baby s-so tight.” He moaned, half way through pushing himself in. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as a pout rested on your lips, fingers trembling as they traced his face. “Hurt- good hurt ung— yes y-yes—” huffing as you closed your eyes, digging your head back into the pillows.
By the time Kento bottomed out, you trapped him tightly inside you with your legs. “N-no, don't— feels so full.” A broken breath leaves your mouth, but Kento had other plans. He slowly moved out, staring at your face contract into a blissful state as you dig your nails into his neck earning a hiss from him. 
It's slow, but sturdy as he moves in you. “See— baby so good f-for me, yeah. Eyes on me d-darling. Look at Kento—” he groaned at the crook of your neck, his pace increasing. The continuous sound of plap plap plap resonating as you get crossed eyes. The oversensitivity that you felt was beyond your imagination, pleasure and pain sending shock waves throughout your body as you tried to remain conscious. Eyes painfully strained at him as he talked you through it. 
“Y-yeah baby? Feel this?” he pressed his palm onto your tummy making you whine out, “Can ya feel me hah, I'm so deep in you b-baby— ugh fuck” he grunted pushing his hips a little deeper now. And his head brutally kissing all the right spots inside you, making you absolutely fucked out, mind blank and the only coherent thought that you could form was, ‘Kento is fucking me—’ 
Strings of his name fell out of your plushy lips like a mantra as he hit the sweet spot in you, making you gasp— that was captured by his own lips as he fucked you up in the best way possible. You were going non-verbal because of the pleasure, body too overstimulated to even move from its place as you place a hand on his chest. ‘Okay okay, that'sokaykento too much— please please please’ 
You didn't know what you were begging for at this point, his cock filling you up so deliciously that all you could do was hold a hand over your mouth and sob because of the pleasure. A steady coil started to build in your abdomen making you clench hard on him. “Ha– baby– f-fuvk FUCK—” He fumbled as he spilled in you. Warm semen filling you up as your brows furrowed as you felt your own climax near. With a high pitched cry, holding onto his neck you came. He fucked you throught your irgams and his own, huffing deeply as he collapsed onto you.
His body weight pressing onto your body as you trembled underneath him. “D-darling— god I– love you” he stuttered, pressing kisses into your neck and dragging his fingers along your spine.
“One– more pretty girl, let me make love to you one more time.” He mumbled before pushing your head down into the pillows and arching your back.
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AN: after proof reading this i feel so flustered with my stupid vocabulary. but as they say, fake it till you make it. i'll pretend that this is good. hope you all enjoyed this? BECAUSE FIRST POST AND SICH SHITTY SHIT.
346 notes · View notes
winwintea · 18 hours ago
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HOLY FUCK.
i don’t even know where to begin. 1,000 notes. 1,000 notes???? i’m sitting here staring at that number on my laptop, jaw wide open, and it still doesn’t feel real. but it’s real. you all did this for me. and i am so, so overwhelmed with gratitude. it may not be a huge number for some, but for me this is such a big deal.
when i first started writing this fanfic, it was just a little idea that popped into my head. i had rewatched past lives, and my brain was practically begging me to write something. i never, ever imagined it would resonate with so many people. to be honest, i never thought i’d even reach 500 notes, let alone 1,000. this is beyond anything i could have ever dreamed of.
my most popular fic prior to inyun was secure that card. i still look all those notes and smile. although i had to give her up, i was also just happy so many people were interested in reading stc. so here's a special thanks to those who stayed post-stc takedown. i owe all of you so much for helping me stay motivated to write and produce more stories.
i’ve always been a reader first. i’ve spent countless hours immersed in other people’s stories, marveling at their creativity, their ability to make me feel so deeply through their words. honestly i don't even care right now i'm just going to mention them straight out. @lqfiles @hazyhae and @polarisjisung, thank you so so so much for being the inspiration for me in starting this blog. your works touched the hearts of many, including my own.
i never thought i could be someone who could do that for others. writing was always this distant, intimidating thing that “real writers” did. but one day, on a whim, thanks to the encouragement of @aquaphoenixz and @lyvhie, i decided to try. i thought, why not? and now, here we are. it’s surreal.
the fact that so many people have taken the time to read, like, reblog, and comment on my work… it’s humbling. it’s incredible. every notification, every kind word, every little interaction (i do in fact stalk my followers from time to time <33 love u all) it means the world to me. to know that something i created in my spare time, just for the joy of it, has brought even a fraction of happiness or excitement to someone else… that’s the most amazing feeling in the world. writing can be such a solitary thing, but seeing your responses makes me feel like i'm part of a community, like i’m sharing something special with all of you. <33
i want to thank each and every one of you who took the time to engage with my story. whether you left a comment, reblogged with tags that made me laugh, or just silently hit the like button? thank you. thank you for giving my little fic a chance. thank you for making me feel like my words matter. thank you for reminding me why i fell in love with storytelling in the first place.
this milestone isn’t just about the numbers. it’s about the connections (i've met so many wonderful people), the shared love for kpop, and the joy of creating something people enjoy. i’m so grateful to be a part of this fandom, to have found such a supportive and enthusiastic audience. you’ve all made me feel so seen and appreciated, and i can’t thank you enough for that.
i don’t know what the future holds for my writing, but i do know this:
i’ll keep writing because i love it, and because of all of you. thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this such an unforgettable experience. here’s to 1,000 notes, and to all the stories yet to come. 💕💕
inyun
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PAIRING ↬ next door neighbor!mark lee x fem!reader
TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, potential soulmates, past lives au, friends to (?), shared dreams, the idea of inyun/inyeon or “fate”
SUMMARY ↬ when you move into a small apartment complex in seoul, your next-door neighbor, mark lee, seems like nothing more than an ordinary guy. but as the two of you get to know each other more, it suddenly feels like you’ve known him forever. then mark mentions his grandmother's belief in 인연. the idea that every encounter is woven by threads of fate. are these coincidences between you and mark really accidental or is there something deeper going on?
WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ somebody (me) decided to rewatch past lives 🙈 this was supposed to be fluff and a gift for @https-lvesick but finals week started sinking in… thank you to my saviors @viasdreams and @polarisjisung for beta reading, love y'all <33
PLAYLIST ↬ jazz bar - dreamcatcher; mago - gfriend; you - nct dream; dejavu - nu’est w; wham bam shang-a-lang - silver
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THERE IS A WORD IN KOREAN:
"인연"
it means providence or fate. 
but it's specifically about the relationships between people. 
it's an "인연" if two strangers even walk by each other in the street and their clothes accidentally brush. because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives.
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Your apartment door was wide open, boxes half-unpacked and filling the hallway. You’d tried to keep things organized, but between the moving of your furniture and the delivery guy calling for directions, you slowly lost your organization.
You were crouched on the floor, handling a box of kitchenware, when you heard a muffled voice behind you.
“Uh, hi? Excuse me?”
Startled, you turned to see a guy standing at the end of the hallway, a paper bag balanced in one hand and a set of keys dangling from the other. He was dressed in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, glasses fixed upon his face, and his hair slightly tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Are… are you my new neighbor?” he asked in Korean, motioning toward the boxes that completely blocked his door.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” your voice squeaked as you responded in some broken korean, not mentally prepared to face a neighbor on the first day of moving him. You scrambled to move a tower of books out of his way. “I didn’t realize—let me just—”
“It’s fine, really,” he interrupted in English this time with a small laugh. “I’m Mark, by the way. Do you speak English?”
“Oh!” You paused mid-shove, shocked at his perfect accent. “Yes. Yes I do.” You were suddenly aware of how disheveled you looked. “Y/N,” you replied, brushing stray hair from your face. “Nice to meet you, and again, sorry for the mess. Your English is really good.”
“No worries. Happens to the best of us,” Mark said, crouching to help move the heavier boxes. “I’m from Canada, so English is kind of my thing.”
“Aah. I see.” You nodded, still mortified.
“This is your first day here?”
“Yeah. My friends were supposed to help, but they bailed at the last minute. So here I am, single-handedly creating a big explosive mess.”
Mark chuckled, lifting a box with ease. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty solid job for one person. Though... maybe try not to block your neighbors' doors next time.”
“Noted,” you said with an embarrassed laugh, standing to hold the door open as he slid the box inside.
When the hallway was clear, you expected him to leave, but he stayed, looking at the stacks of boxes still waiting to be unpacked. “Need an extra pair of hands?”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”
“I insist,” Mark said with a grin. “I’m a pro at this. Moved like five times in the last three years.”
Before you could protest further, Mark rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He moved like he really had done this a hundred times, lifting heavy items with ease and made the process less awkward with his small jokes.
“This box says ‘Bathroom,’ but it’s definitely full of shoes,” he teased, pulling out a pair of sneakers.
“Okay, maybe I got a little lazy with the labels,” you admitted.
“Lazy? Nah, this is strategic. Keeps life exciting,” he quipped, tossing the sneakers back in.
You laughed, the tension from earlier fading away. Somehow, he’d turned what felt like a stressful task into something almost fun.
Once the last box was inside, Mark clapped his hands together. “Mission accomplished. And since I’m basically your hero now, I think I’ve earned a reward. Got any snacks?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I have… instant ramen?”
Mark grinned. “Perfect. My favorite.”
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After settling in for a few days, you don’t encounter Mark again. That is, until a series of random moments start pulling you back into his orbit.  
On one of those nights, just past 9 p.m., the apartment complex suddenly plunges into darkness. The familiar buzz of your refrigerator stops, and the streetlights outside shut off, leaving your apartment only dimly lit from the moon. 
Groaning, you fumble around for your phone, only to realize the battery is at 4%. Great. You grab a flashlight, slowly open your door, and step out into the hallway, hoping to find someone who knows what is going on. 
That’s when you spot him.
Mark is sitting on the floor just outside his door, a small stack of candles beside him.
“Hey,” he greets, a faint smile on his face as he waves a lighter. “Power’s out in the whole block, apparently. Wanna borrow a candle?”
You take in his setup and smirk. He’s surrounded by neatly arranged tea lights and thick pillar candles.“Uh, are you in a cult or something?”
“Eh, my grandma’s kinda superstitious. Always told me to keep candles around the house just in case,” he says, shrugging. “I thought she was overreacting, but turns out she’s kind of a genius.”
You sit down a few feet away, gratefully accepting a candle he lights for you. The flame brightens up the dark hallway, leaving warm shadows on Mark’s face.
“So,” you start, leaning against the wall, “What do you normally do during blackouts? Just... sit around and wait?”
“Basically. Or… get this,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “People actually talk to each other. Crazy, right? You could, I don’t know, tell me something about yourself. Like… how many candles do you keep at home?”
“None,” you admit holding up your flashlight. “This is all I’ve got. I guess I’m doomed in a blackout. Your grandma would be so disappointed in me.”
“She would,” he agrees with a laugh. “But I’ll let it slide. Only because you’re new here.”
The conversation flows easily after that. You both begin trading random facts: Your favorite childhood snacks, his love for playing guitar, the time you accidentally dyed your hair orange trying to bleach it yourself. He counters with a tale of a botched bleach job that left him looking like a walking science experiment for months. 
Minutes turn into an hour, the candles continuing to burn as the two of you share quiet laughter and stories. And for the first time that night, the darkness doesn’t feel so bad.
A few days later, you’re hauling overstuffed grocery bags up the stairs when Mark pokes his head out of his apartment. His hair is tousled, and he’s wearing an oversized hoodie that practically swallows him whole.
“Oh, hey!” he calls, his face lighting up when he spots you. “Need help?”
“I got it, thanks!” you manage to say, despite your arms straining and the bag handles digging into your fingers.  
Before you can argue, Mark is already down the hall, grabbing it from you, and effortlessly carrying it to your door. “Looks like this thing was holding on for dear life,” he teases, hoisting it easily as he follows you to your door.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I was gonna knock on your door anyway,” he interrupts with a grin. “I baked something earlier and thought you might want to try it.”
That makes you pause mid-door unlock. “You bake?”
“Why does everyone react like that?” he says with mock offense. “Yes, I bake. Don’t look so shocked.”
“You don’t look like the baking type. Or cooking.”
“Oh, I can’t cook.” He scowls as if thinking about a bad memory, “But baking is pretty easy. It’s just throwing everything into one bowl, mixing it up, and waiting. Piece of cake. Or, in this case, cookies.”
A few minutes later, you’re both sitting on your tiny kitchen floor, a plate of freshly baked cookies between you. The smell of warm chocolate and butter fills the air.
“These are amazing,” you say after taking a bite, your voice muffled by the cookie in your mouth.
Mark beams, leaning back against the counter. “Not bad, right? I got the recipe off some YouTube channel. Figured I’d test it out before offering it to my friends.”
You squint your eyes, pretending to look offended. “Wait, so I’m just the guinea pig?”
He admits, laughing. “Pretty much. But hey, honest opinion: too sweet? Not sweet enough?”
“Perfect,” you reply, reaching out for another. “But you should’ve added nuts. Makes it more sophisticated. Just make sure you aren’t allergic.”
He gasps, clutching his chest. “Sophisticated? Wow. Didn’t know I was baking for royalty.”
You chuckle, playfully tossing a crumpled napkin at him, and the conversation once again flows effortlessly from there. You laugh over Mark’s failed attempts at “fancy” macarons, and somehow turn into stories about childhood food disasters.
By the time the plate is empty and an hour has vanished. With Mark, even the simplest moments feel like they belong in a movie.
Then it’s yet another lazy Sunday when the doorbell rings. You open the door to find Mark holding a massive box labeled 50-pack instant ramen.
“I think this is yours,” he says, biting back a laugh.
You glance at the label and groan. “Oh my God. I ordered five. Five!”
“Well, congrats,” he says, handing you the box. “Looks like you’re set for the next year.”
You sigh, dragging the box inside. A few minutes later, there’s another knock. Mark’s returned to your door, grinning this time.
“You know,” he starts, leaning against the doorframe, “if you need help finishing all that ramen, I’m just next door. We could, like, host a ‘ramen buffet.’ Charge admission or something.”
You snort. “Sure. I’ll make you the first VIP guest. Free ramen for life.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve ever gotten,” he says, eyes sparkling. “But seriously, I’ll take a few packs off your hands if it’s too much. My midnight snack stash could use a refill.”
Later, you text him a picture of your pantry. 
YOU: Your VIP pass is ready 
MARK: I’ll bring the chopsticks! 😂
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The first time the dream comes, it’s vivid enough to remember even after you wake up. In the dream you’re walking through a bustling marketplace, the air thick with the scents and noise of those around you. People push past you, but you don’t feel overwhelmed by them. Instead, there’s a strange pull, like a thread tugging at your body. You turn your head and catch a glimpse of someone—a young man with a warm smile, eyes glinting in the sunlight, and a soft laugh that echoes through the din. 
You can’t see his face clearly, but his hand brushes yours as he passes. And in that moment, it leaves a spark. A warmth that feels almost familiar.
When you wake up, the details are already fading, but the feeling of that touch, that spark, seems to linger, and you can’t seem to get it out of your head.
A few days later, you're sitting with Mark in the hallway outside your apartments, the floor scattered with takeout boxes and empty soda cans. The two of you have somehow fallen into the habit of these late-night talks, sharing parts of your day and random thoughts that cross your mind in the moment.
“Have you ever had weird dreams?” you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.
Mark leans back against the wall, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times. “Weird how?”
“Like…” You pause, trying to find the right words. “Like they’re not just dreams. More like memories. But not yours.”
Mark raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Okay, now you’ve got me curious. Spill.”
You chuckle, feeling a little silly but continuing anyway. “I’ve been dreaming about this place—a market or something. It’s super crowded, and I’m just walking around. But then…” Your voice trails off as the memory becomes clearer in your mind. “There’s this guy. I don’t know him, but when I see him, it’s like I do. And when our hands brush…”
Mark’s expression shifts, his playful smile fading into something more serious. He sits up straighter. “Wait. You said a market?”
“Yeah.”
“And… hands brushing?” he asks, his voice quieter now.
Your stomach flips. “Yeah. Why?”
He hesitates, running a hand through his hair again. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but… I’ve had the exact same dream.”
For a moment, the world feels like it’s spinning. You blink at him, looking for any hint that he’s maybe joking, but his face is earnest, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to solve a mystery.
“No way,” you say, laughing nervously. “You’re messing with me.”
“I’m not!” Mark protests, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I swear. There’s a market, right? And I’m just walking, but then I see someone—you, I guess? And when our hands touch, it’s like—”
“—like a spark,” you finish for him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mark stares at you, his eyes wide. “Exactly.”
The air between you grows silent, the laughter and casual banter from earlier replaced by something more ominous.
“Do you think it means something?” you ask after a long pause, your voice trying to stabilize itself.
Mark lets out a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “My grandma used to say that some people are connected through 인연—fate, you know? Like… maybe we knew each other before. In another life.”
You study his face, the soft curve of his jaw and the way his lips press together like he’s holding back more than he’s saying out loud. “Do you believe that?”
He turns to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know. But if it’s true…” He pauses, his gaze dropping to his hands, which rest in his lap. “Maybe it’s why I feel like I’ve known you forever, even though we just met.”
Your breath catches, his words affecting something deep inside you. The dreams, the strange familiarity, the unexplainable pull towards him, the way you could spend hours with each other, you’ve felt since the day you moved in. It’s all beginning to make a strange kind of sense. 
You don’t say anything, but your hand brushes his as you reach for your drink, and in that moment, the spark from your dream seems to jolt back to life.
Mark glances down, his fingers twitching as if he’s tempted to close the gap. Instead, he looks at you.“Maybe we’re just imagining things,” he says softly, but the hope in his voice betrays his words.
“Maybe,” you reply, though you’re not sure you believe it either.
For the rest of the night, neither of you mention the dreams again. But when you go to bed, the image of two hands brushing in a crowded marketplace still lingers in your mind, clearer than ever.
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It’s a Friday evening, and you’re sitting on Mark’s couch, a blanket thrown over both of your laps. The faint smell of popcorn fills the air as a half-watched movie plays on the screen. Mark’s head is tilted back, his eyes weary from the long day, his fingers idly drumming to a beat on the couch cushion between you.
You glance at him, noting how cozy it seems here. It’s moments like these that feel strange… and effortless. Like you’ve done this a thousand times before.
“Hey,” you say, nudging his arm lightly. “You’re zoning out. The movie isn't that bad.”
Mark snorts, turning his head toward you. “Oh, yeah? Name one character besides the main guy.”
“Uh... The dog?”
“Exactly.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes your stomach flip.
But before you can laugh along, his phone buzzes on the coffee table, breaking the moment. Mark’s smile fades as he leans forward to grab it. You watch his face shift—something serious.
“Who is it?” you ask, your voice careful.
“It’s... uh, an email. From SM,” he says, mentioning the entertainment company where he’s been interning. He hesitates, scrolling through the message. “They want me to come in for a meeting. Apparently, there’s a potential opening on one of their teams in Vancouver.”
You sit up straighter. “Vancouver? Like... Canada?”
He nods, his thumb still hovering over his phone screen. “Yeah. They’ve got this big international project coming up, and I guess they think I’d be a good fit.”
You’re silent for a moment, the weight of his words setting in. “That’s... amazing, Mark. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” His tone is quiet, almost hesitant, and it doesn’t match the words. He sets his phone back down and leans back again, trying to avoid your gaze.
“So,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant even as your chest tightens, “you’re thinking of going?”
Mark runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve noticed over the months. “I don’t know yet. It’s a huge opportunity, but... I’d have to leave. Like, soon.”
“Right,” you say, your voice a little too steady. “It makes sense. You’ve been working toward something like this for a long time.”
He finally looks at you, his dark eyes searching. “Yeah, but... leaving means leaving everything. Everyone.”
You know what he’s implying, but neither of you says it out loud.
It’s the day of Mark’s big decision. Whether to take the overseas job offer or stay in Seoul. You’ve been avoiding the topic, scared of what it might mean for you. But tonight, the two of you find yourselves on the rooftop of your apartment building. The breeze carries the faint scent of flowers that Mark planted the other day in the community garden.
You sit side by side on the edge, legs dangling over the low wall. Although dangerous, Mark always promised that he’d catch you if you fell. He also wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. He’s always thoughtful like that.
For a while, neither of you says anything, just watching the sun slowly start to descend down the bustling city. 
Finally, Mark breaks the silence. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about 인연.”
You turn to look at him. His face is painted in soft, golden light. “Yeah? What about it?”
He chuckles softly, almost nervously, running a hand through his hair. “At first, I thought it was just a cool idea. Like, ‘Oh, that’s neat. Fate and past lives and stuff.’ But… I don’t know. Every time I’m with you, it feels like there’s something bigger happening. Like I’ve known you forever, and I don’t even know why.”
Your breath catches. Hearing him say it out loud makes it feel so much more real than you imagined in your head. “I feel it too. Like… we’ve been here before. Not just on this rooftop, but in some other life, in some other time.”
Mark finally turns to you, his eyes searching yours. “But what if we’re just making this up? What if we’re using fate as an excuse to… I don’t know, hold onto something that isn’t real?”
The vulnerability in his voice shakes you. He’s scared, just like you are. Scared of the intensity of it all, scared of what it means to let go. Or to keep holding on.
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
“I don’t know if this is fate, Mark. I don’t know if some invisible thread tied us together, or if we’re just two people who got lucky enough to meet. But maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s not about why we found each other, but what we do with it now.”
Mark looks at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but he hesitates. You can tell he’s turning your words over in his mind, weighing them. “So… what do we do with it? What if I take the job? What if I leave? Does that mean we weren’t meant to be?”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” You reach for his hand, your fingers brushing before he laces them with yours. “You taking the job or staying doesn’t erase what we’ve shared. If this is fate, Mark, it’ll find a way to bring us back together. And if it’s not… then I’ll still be grateful for every moment we’ve had.”
“You make it sound so easy. Like letting go wouldn’t completely wreck me.” His grip tightens, and you see his throat bob as he swallows hard. 
You smile, but there’s a little sadness to your voice. “Who says letting go has to mean goodbye? Maybe it just means letting the story unfold the way it’s meant to.”
The silence that follows feels heavy but not uncomfortable. You can see the wheels turning in Mark’s mind. He’s thinking, unsure of what to say. 
Finally, he exhales a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know if I believe in fate, either. But I believe in you. And I believe in us.”
Your heart skips a beat, but he’s not done yet.
“So… if I stay, it won’t be because I’m afraid of losing whatever this is. It’ll be because I want to keep building it with you. And if I go… it’ll be because I know we’re strong enough to handle the distance.”
Tears prick at your eyes, and you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”
He grins, that familiar smile that’s become so dear to you.
“Not really. I’m just winging it.”
You both laugh, the warmth from your voices cutting through the bittersweetness of the moment. The future feels uncertain, but for the first time, that uncertainty doesn’t feel so scary.
As the last rays of sunlight fade, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Whether it’s fate, luck, or sheer coincidence, you’re here now. And for now, that’s enough.
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TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania
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contamination-zone · 2 days ago
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Guide to my fucked up self indulgent Fresh au[s]. thing. that "Nightmare's ideal scenario" thing, but with more surrounding it [Color], + an older au thing I had earlier.
Individual zooms under cut + extra
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These all have their own individual tags [what I put at the top there], but I might collapse [Captivity AU: Nightmare's Castle] and [Captivity AU: Nightmare's Castle; good end] cus I thought I'd have more thoughts on Nightmare keeping Fresh as a pet, but welll. it is just boring if Fresh has no power to be annoying back haha.
And Captivity AU is still its own thing separate from all this too. Because I like Fizz's terrible situationship with the experiment and I still have the idea of Fresh escaping to go be happy with CB's family. So that means.. the other two [or one] are just offshoots of this one :-]
The concept I've been throwing around for how Fresh wouldn't starve while with Color + also making it so Color wouldn't have to compromise his morals to feed Fresh is just that Fresh can get most of his daily magic by hanging around Color, who dispels so much magicical soul stuff that Fresh could just... persist. but that feels too hand-wavy and self-indulgent haha.
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ditzydoefx · 3 days ago
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For the valentines day fic, you could do something along the lines of reader doing a boudoir shoot or a pinup shoot for the solider of your choice. Like all the outfits/poses/props are specific to each person for example for soap one picture could be the reader in a kilt with nothing underneath, or for ghost like a human skull sitting between their legs, etc.
-🪼
Price's Pinup Doll ♡
Summary: You surprise Price for Valentines Day <3!
AN: So sorry this is late honey <3 I hope you enjoy!
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You're sat on your kitchen counter, watching Price cook the both of you breakfast, absentmindedly playing with the tea bag that sits in your cup. It was still early, the sun still steadily climbing it's way to the highest point in the sky. You let your mind wander as the sounds of running water and sizzling pans fill the silence that stretch between you and your husband.
Your eyes stray over to the calendar, a date, February fourteenth circled in red ink, decorated with little hearts around the bubble.
"John." You turn to him, a cheeky smile appearing across your features.
"Yes sweethear'" His voice is still hoarse from sleep, and you lean over to press a quick kiss to his bare shoulder before talking.
"What do you want for Valentines Day?" There's a knowing lilt in your voice, you're sure you already have an idea of what he wants.
He looks over at you and smiles before turning his focus back to the pan.
"Nothing." You see him attempt to suppress a smirk.
You groan at him, playfully smacking his shoulder before slipping off the counter to stand behind him and press your body against his.
"John…" You whine. "I can't get you nothing! You say you want nothing every year, for every holiday!"
He laughs, deep and rich, turning his head awkwardly to place a kiss on your forehead.
"All I want for Valentine's day is for you to be happy." You bury your face into his shoulder blades, attempting to smother your ever growing smile.
"Come on love, breakfast is ready." You hum at him, letting your previous conversation end there.
Despite your husbands finality over Valentine's gifts, the idea of surprising him with something special never left your mind. You never buy him many gifts, mostly because he insists you don't, so when you do get him gifts, you always try and make them special.
After a few days of scouring the internet, looking at forums, blog pages, and one to many tiktok videos, you come across a boudoir photographer, and suddenly an idea hits you. John has only one tattoo, it's small and on the inside of his right ankle, and that tattoo is of you. More specifically, a pinup doll version of you, wearing his favorite set of lingerie. It would be perfect, John already has a few polaroid's of you in his wallet, the lighting is awful and they're horribly taken but he loves them, so why not give him something a little more professional?
You contact the photographer, Kelly, right away, asking about her pricings and last minute availabilities. By the grace of god, she had a last minute cancelation so she was able to fit you in. Her pricings were reasonable too, though you weren't too concerned with cost. The drive to her studio was only about an hour away, so with your booking scheduled, and the initial deposit sent, you were all prepared and ready for the photoshoot. John, thankfully, would be on base that day, so a little white lie about taking a day trip erased any questions he might've had about your absence.
When the day of your shoot arrived, you arrived at the studio with a few pairs of lingerie, all the pairs that John liked seeing you in the most, and a couple very expensive robes. Kelly had some props for you to use, but you also brought some things from home. His dog tags, the hat he never seems to be without (though this was his backup hat, the real one was safely on his head), and his jacket, the 141 insignia and his last name on the back. You told Kelly you'd like to incorporate all the props in some way but left the creative direction to her.
She was an absolute angel, easing your nerves, clearing up concerns, and overall making it a exciting and tantalizing experience.
When the photoshoot finished, she showed you a sneak preview of the photos. As you looked at each picture you could only chew on your lip to contain the excitement you felt. They were perfect and there was no doubt in your mind that Price would agree. Kelly let you know it would take a couple days to edit the photos and that you should get the physical copies in the mail a few days before Valentine's day.
For the next few days leading up to Valentine's day you were restless. It was extremely hard not to spill the beans to your husband, especially because it seemed he had some idea you were up to something. Nonetheless, you persisted, watching the mail like a hawk. After about three days, when you checked the mail, you saw the unmistakable custom envelope of the photo studio. You were esthetic, making your way back inside the house to see the freshly edited photos. They were even more perfect than they were before, and the best part was you only had to wait two more days to show John.
Two days pass quickly and before you know it, it's Valentine's day. You woke up to a specially made breakfast and a much to large pile of presents. You and John shared a meal and he watched you open your gifts before heading to base for the day. You'd decided to give him the pictures from your shoot before you left for dinner that night. He had reservations at one of your favorite restaurant, and the thought of teasing him before dinner brought a smile to your face.
When Price came home, you greeted him with a quick kiss before sending him off to shower and get ready for dinner. You were already mostly finished, you had showered, and gotten dressed, the only thing left to do was your hair and makeup. You did your hair up the way John liked the most and you even wore his favorite lipstick. You looked stunning, and you were excited to give Price his gift.
You sat on the couch in your living room as you waited, the photos safely tucked away in a more holiday appropriate envelope. You're buzzing with excitement, eagerly waiting for your husband to walk down the steps. After about ten minutes, you hear his footsteps making his way down the stairs.
"You ready love?" He asks, voice low and gravely, as he makes his way to the front door.
You hop up off the couch, hiding the envelope behind your back as you saunter over to Price. He lets out a breath, his eyes wandering over your figure.
"Fuckin' hell look at you love… Beautiful thing you are." He grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"You look quite dashing yourself John." You smile softly as his chest puffs out at the compliment.
He reaches for the door but you stop him, a smirk playing at your lips. You can see the confusion in his expression. He moves his hand to the side of your face, stroking your cheek comfortingly as his head tilts to the side.
"Somethin' the matter love?" You nod, your smirk growing as you pull the envelope from behind your back.
"This is for you… I know you said you didn't want a gift but you know I couldn't give you nothing." Price shakes his head at you fondly, a small puff of air exhaling from his nose.
"Cheeky thing.. Suppose' you wan' me to open it now, hm?" You nod excitedly and he smiles, slowly and carefully opening the envelope.
As he pulls out the photos you can see his breath hitch, his eyes frantically moving from photo to photo.
"Christ love… This is-" You bite your lip, very proud at your achievement of making the big bad Captain Price speechless. "You are a fucking sight doll.." You smile.
"Do you like them? Did a whole custom photoshoot just for you…" He takes one last look at the photos before tucking them back into the envelope, his pupils blown wide.
"I love them sweethear'…" He grabs at your waist, his eyes zeroed in on your lips. "In fact I think m' hungry for somethin' else…" He attempts to lean in for a kiss but you pull away, smiling cheekily.
"Nuh-uh. Dinner John, we're going to be late. You can have dessert later" You throw him a sly wink before swinging open the door and making your way outside.
Yeah, this was going to be a great Valentine's day.
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anemptyvoidforall · 12 hours ago
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Cause op mentioned they maybe wanted ideas to be included in a fic with this premise (and cause im great at generating ideas but really bad at plot):
Someone has a list of very concerning things Danny has very casually mentioned while rating. (Joker loses points bc he doesn't get my pity vote. Last time clowns went after me at least i felt bad for them bc of the whole mind control thing).
There is a second list of things that do not make sense and Need Reaserching. (Fear toxins is nowhere near as bad as Frighty's sword)
Robin is a GhostlingTM. He finds Danny recording, recognizes the subject of several open investigations, and heads over to interrogate them. They brawl. The camera is filming the whole time. It is not cut out of the final video. Or cut at all. The Robin Brawl video is twice as long and thrice as popular as usual.
Tim looked into the trending hashtag (what did he do that ppl liked, and can it be replicated) and discovers the true reason fairly quickly. (Yes, he does have notifications for when he is trending on social media. Yes, both personas. No, he hasn't slept today. Its only 2 why do you ask?) I've decided that both of the above lists are his. He is not sharing this investigation. They have the same initials. His mystery. There is a second copy of the lists that tim has added a handful of things to (gotta keep up appearances to throw them off) in the Official Bat Files.
Despite the fact that Tim is well aware that the tag is not about him, Every Single Member of his family teases him over it. He's this close to pulling a Damian and stabbing someone. (No, he's not irrational due to lack of sleep). Jason is last (bc they don't interact often outside of bat stuff) and brings it up during patrol. Tim threatens to take one of his guns and shoot him with it. The reaction only makes his mood worse.
Idk if you like any of them. I found it kinda fun! I'm getting a "Danny is several mysteries in a trench coat and the bats are like cats with catnip" vibe from it. Especially if Danny straight up doesn't get why the bats are interested. You might not even be going that way.
Rogue Rater AU
He's sick of this shit. Might as well put the experience to use.
When the videos first come out, they're more rage rants cause this is happening so often and he's only been there for like 2-3 days. The only thing is part of his first video that Cass ans Steph put on the screen for the others to see. I have written out is that he got nabbed 6 times within the weekend he got here and if he got nabbed a 7th time then this would be his project.
Danny is in Gotham for 3 days and is already sick of the rogues and criminals. He's kidnapped, drugged, and mugged, you name it! So he takes the time to rate his experiences. To make up his semester grades, Mr. Lancer gave him a summer assignment to do while he’s at the WE Summer Scholar program to record his experiences. So he goes a little above and makes it a YouTube channel after the third incident on his first day here. Speaking about the rogues from an outsider's perspective behind a ghost image. After the SEVENTH TIME on his THIRD. DAY. HERE. He finally uses a camera, full-on (Silly-ass) rage ranting in a full black motorcyclist gear with a black tint visor that barely shows the green light coming from his eyes if you look super closely. Straight from the riddler's kidnapping today! If it's a more serious video, he'll be in a full gas mask, single colored shirt, a black hoodie over top, and white gloves. Either way, he never shows an inch of skin. Yet, no rogue has made it past 4.5/5 stars cause this kid has ALWAYS somehow experienced worse. A Gothamite calls him on it, so he shares a droplet of his experiences with his rogues, and everyone is getting increasingly concerned for RR. No one has any idea what they look like (aside from Sam and Tucker, who joined the program with him). So everyone is looking out for their midwestern accent. Tim is delighted and confused when #RRSolidarity goes viral. 
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hederasgarden · 2 days ago
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The Caged Bird
Summary: You disobey Tangerine and Sergei.  Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x F!Reader x Tangerine Word Count: 677 Rating: 18+ only. This is a dark fic, dead dove, do not eat. Warning for a brief moment of physical violence against the reader, implied kidnapping and physiological distress. Not all elements are tagged.   A/N: This came about from a discussion with @otaku-girl-ao3. Thanks to @ryebecca for the moodboard. We jump right into the story so it is below the cut. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
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Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist
Your head jerks to the right, the bite of Tangerine's rings into your skin barely registering. There’s blood in your mouth, warm and metallic. Your tongue instinctively brushes against the cut. Pain flares for a moment, sharp and fleeting, but all you can do is blink, the sensation lingering just beneath the surface.
“Runnin wasn’t very smart, luv,” he reprimands. 
You stare back at him blankly, watching his chest heave with effort, anger radiating off him in waves. The ever-present fear you live with is there, but it feels distant now, buried deep in a place you can’t reach. Sergei stands just behind him, at the edge of the treeline, his eyes flashing golden. You briefly meet his gaze before quickly looking away, your eyes lifting to watch the grey sky slip through the thick canopy above. It’s quiet here—only the soft babble of the stream and the low murmur of conversation between Tangerine and Sergei. No birds, though. There never are when Sergei is around. They were smarter than you, more attuned to his true nature, fleeing when they had a chance.
You ran right into his arms. 
Sergei says your name—once, twice, and then a third time—before you can tear your eyes away from the sky. You can’t quite place the expression on his face. It used to frighten you, that uncertainty, not knowing what he wanted or being able to predict his next move. But now, you simply stare at him. Waiting. Accepting. You’re so tired. 
His thumb grazes over your split lip before he brings it to his mouth, tasting the blood. A low rumble escapes his chest, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls you in closer. He’s warm—so warm—that you suddenly realize your teeth are chattering, your skin cool and clammy. You left the house in nothing but the sundress Tangerine liked you to wear and there’s snow on the ground. Instinct has you leaning into the touch, welcoming him like he’s taught you to.
"Let’s get you inside, pet," Sergei murmurs, his voice steady. "Into something dry and warm. Would you like that?"
You look at Tangerine, noting the deep furrow between his brows as he watches you. His mouth is bloodied, his clothes disheveled. Did he look like that before? You glance down at Sergei's hand, the skin of his knuckles is split, streaked with blood.
"I want what you want," you parrot back to Sergei, your gaze shifting to Tangerine. "I want to make you happy." 
Tangerine exhales harshly and you frown. "Was I bad again?" You ask.
“No,” Sergei soothes. “You just got a little confused. And Tan,” he adds, looking back at the other man, “shouldn’t have hit you. We don’t hit our pets, do we?”
Tangerine clenches his jaw and purses his lips briefly. He looks away from you and exhales. “Thought she was doing a runner,” he defends. 
“But you weren’t, were you, pet?” Sergei asks, cupping your jaw. His grip is gentle but there’s no mistaking his strength. The way he could hurt you with barely any effort. 
“I wanted to hear the birds,” you tell him truthfully. 
Tangerine moves around you, the snow crunching beneath his feet. You tense as his hands settle on your hips, gently kneading the soft flesh. He kisses the side of his neck, soft and sweet again though you know it won’t last. It never does with him.
“Maybe we’ll get you a bird, darlin’, a pet of your own. Would you like that?” He asks.
You shake your head, the idea of caging something so free and beautiful feeling deeply wrong. Before you can stop yourself, the words slip out—whispered, but clear. It’s the wrong thing to say, and panic rises within you as you realize your mistake. Tangerine’s grip tightens, pain blooming where his fingers dig into your skin, while Sergei’s hand suddenly clasps your chin, holding it firmly between his thumb and forefinger.
“Some things are meant to be caged,” he murmurs, his voice smooth, “to keep them safe.”
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kaddyssammlung · 2 days ago
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The lack of interviews and them being mysterious (despite everything that you can find via Google) all of this has an effect that no one ever talks about or even realizes.At least in my opinion.
We "are" the news in this fandom.
Ever thought about that?
Yesterday I came home from work and was really tired and saw what was being posted here in the main tag and it took me seconds to figure out what was going on.
That fandom is fast when it comes to these things.
That's amazing!
But the power lies in our hands. No “mass media” is involved.
Me sitting here, nodding my head and smiling while writing this.
You have no idea what that really means......
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cutehoons02 · 1 day ago
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Puppy Love: The Hybrid's Heart
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*pairing: Golden retriever puppy hybrid Jake x human popular bratty Girl
*trope: oppositive attraction
*synopsis: What if you were to do a project on the economic boom that brought hybrids into the human world in terms of love and sex with Jake a golden retriever hybrid who at first glance looks like a puppy but slowly becomes obsessed with you, and you with your shameless insolence propose to write an essay on the overselling of sexual protections against hybrids? This idea of yours might be brilliant academically but on the plane between your relationship with the hybrid Jake could bring some spicy consequences
*tags: a lot of fluffy and fun, a lot of tension, Jake is a shy fake boy, the protagonist is quite bratty and spoiled but also has a tender side, teasing, territorial animal instinct and possession, kisses, sexual tension, masturbation (f.receives) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) fingering, knot filling, pet names (baby,princess) (puppy,jakey)
7.6k (🐕)
(English is not my native language,this is the first time I’ve written a story about hybrids)
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The world was no longer just for humans.
Since hybrids became an integral part of society, each sector had to adapt to their presence. Medicine, law, food, and education; the world has now normalized the presence of hybrids, who coexist with humans in every aspect of society. Some are still considered "tools" for certain purposes, but others, like Jake, want to prove that they are more than what they were created for. At school or university, hybrids have mixed classes with humans, but there is still some prejudice against them. Some see them as merely trained life companions, others as true peers, instead, you were extremely skeptical, saw them as beings too perfect to be true, always kind, always smiling... which you suspect but your friends always told you to charge one or to feel the thrill of being filled by one of them but you in a sense also hated the male human gender; Going with a hybrid would have been even worse and you firmly believed that the hybrids had repressed instincts and that all their sweetness was just a mask to hide their true primordial nature of possessing someone.
In the human world, there were various forms of hybrids the most common ones were those of dogs with then the sub-species and the same thing was for cats, then there were rabbits, hamsters, and then birds but if you thought that there were only these species you were mistaken. There were hybrid wolves which were the rarest especially if they were Alphas, foxes, deer, bears, snakes, and so on.
The auditorium was full of students, and the hum of whispers filled the air while the professor was busy with the projector. The door snapped open, and a figure came in steadily without the least embarrassment of delay.
Jake barely looked up from his notebook and saw you dressed in tight jeans that tied your legs and a sweater that slipped on your shoulders.
He had never spoken to you but knew you by hearsay in the halls of the university that you were one of the most popular girls, but he noticed you immediately. Not so much for your appearance - even though it was clear that you were aware of pleasure - but for the way you moved: confident, almost cocky, as if you challenged anyone to tell you something.
Your eyes set on the only empty place next to him and with a theatrical sigh, you approached and stopped right there in front of him.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" you asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.
Jake looked at you for a moment, then tilted his head. An involuntary gesture, almost canine, that betrayed his hybrid nature, and felt his tail bursting more than it should.
«Not too much,» he replied, with a relaxed smile.
You raised an eyebrow, then dropped down on the chair with a studious ease and pulled out the notebook slowly, as if you were doing the professor a favor by attending the class.
Jake looked at you again, out of the corner of his eye and that’s when he heard it.
Your perfume, my lord. Sweet, with a vanilla note... but also something fresh, almost pungent. It was rare that a smell hit him like this, the hybrids had a developed sense of smell, sure, but after years among humans he got used to ignoring certain things but this... was too good.
Too persistent.
He barely shook his head, trying to ignore him, but at that moment you spoke again.
"I’ve never seen a hybrid in an advanced course," you commented, crossing your legs under the bench and Jake barely smiled.
«And I have never seen a girl arrive late with so much confidence and boldness»
You smiled amused because you knew how the hybrids could always be perfect in everything, never late, always right at every deadline was a thing that united their species.
"It’s a natural talent that in just a few years!" you said as you flicked through the pages of your notes.
«It must be difficult to perfect, in the human world there are clocks for this, alarms, and reminders but maybe you don’t know that.» He said looking at you with a suspicious smile that made you get on your nerves
"Oh, yes, it takes years of practice, in my house as you may have deduced there are no alarms or maybe I’m just too careless."
Jake chuckled. You liked to tease, this was obvious but not aggressive... it seemed more like a game for you.
"Anyway," you said, getting a little too close for Jake’s taste "Mine wasn’t a joke. I have never seen a hybrid in such a course. I thought they would give you more... practical courses."
Jake stopped tapping his fingers on the bench and turned slightly toward you.
«Practical?» he said intrigued by your question and felt his ears curl up with curiosity.
You smiled, just tilting your head to look at him carefully and he was really beautiful: he had black hair slightly fluffy, his ears were golden and deduced that he was a hybrid of a Golden retriever, wore a black shirt where you could see he had nice muscles and a black leather jacket, of the ripped jeans where you could see his toned legs and the only contrast was his slightly long tail that since you were sitting next to him did not stop moving and was extremely adorable but there was also a darker side: an intensity in his eyes that you had noticed immediately, a smile with perfect teeth that seemed more clever than it should be.
"Yeah. You know, things like obeying, being affectionate, devoted..." Jake laughed softly, his elbow resting on the back of the chair. «If by "practical" you mean that, then I suppose so.» But you shook your head, snapping your tongue.
"No, I mean other things." Jake looked at you with a shadow of curiosity in his eyes.
«What other things?»
You didn’t hesitate for a second to speak and Jake understood that you were extremely cheeky and had no hair on your tongue.
"Obsessing about people. Being territorial. Being perverted from morning to night. And, of course, to breed in mass, I have a friend who has a hybrid at home and is extremely territorial with her, I would never be able to take home a hybrid if then in your nature you become so obsessed and territorial with us» Jake’s smile froze for a moment and for the first time since he had met you, he was speechless.
You had said it too naturally, with too much confidence, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and for a second, Jake felt the heat rise. He was not angry, no but... he felt strange.
He knew well that there were still people who thought so, who saw the hybrids only as beings programmed to satisfy the humans and to satisfy themselves but to hear it in his face, with that almost contemptuous lightness, struck him more than he would have wanted to admit.
He passed his tongue on his teeth, then cleared his throat.
«... And tell me,» he said with a smile that he was trying to mask the irritation. «Do you want me to do these things?»
You burst out laughing, god also he had seriously the taste of humor at the stars and no doubt knew how to tease you and always had the ready answer, maybe his master had trained him well for life as a hybrid mixed with that human being.
"Are you serious?" Jake just stared at you, waiting for your answer and you shook your head, crossing your arms with a haughty little smile.
"No, not even in my worst nightmare would I sleep with a hybrid."
Jake looked away for a second.
Okay, that sentence... had more effect than expected.
Not that he was interested in that way - he said - but the way you had said it, with that absolute confidence, had left him a small, annoying scratch in his pride and passed a hand through his hair, then came back to look at you with an ironic smile.
«Ah, well...» he said, lowering his voice. «I’m sorry to break your heart, but even in my worst nightmares I wouldn’t dream of jumping on you.»
You laughed again, but this time his eyes shone with satisfaction and Jake stared at you for a moment, then barely shook his head, returning to focus on the professor but your scent kept invading his senses and was damn good.
The teacher clapped his hands a couple of times to get the class’s attention.
— Well, guys. For future lessons, I want you to work in pairs with those next to you. You will have to write a short essay on the economic and social boom that occurred after the integration of hybrids in our society, especially in the sentimental sector and... - paused, putting his glasses on his nose, - sexual.
In the courtroom, there was a murmur mixed with some suffocated laughter. Someone turned to look at his sidekick with funny or embarrassed expressions.
Jake ran his hand through his hair, letting go a slight sigh. Fantastic and his new sidekick snorted and laughed.
"Well, I guess you won’t get rid of me that easily then," you said. Jake turned to you, finding you with a clever smirk on your lips. There was something mischievous in your tone as if you were enjoying every second of that situation.
What about him? He wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, the idea of spending more time with you meant dealing with your cheeky attitude and sharp tongue.
On the other hand... your perfume, it was absurd, sweet, and pungent, insinuated itself in his senses in a way that he could not ignore.
"That might be a problem," he thought, his tongue in his teeth.
You meanwhile stretch out your hand, with an almost bored expression, as if you were simply doing your social duty.
"My name is Y/n." Jake looked down at your hand for a moment, then did the same.
«Jake,» he said in a low voice smiling at you, and as soon as your hands touched, both of you felt a slight electric shock. You withdrew your hand after a second, barely clenching your fingers, as if you were unsure of what she had just felt. Jake, on the other hand, stood still, his face as relaxed as ever... but something inside of him had lit up.
He had felt the shock more intensely than he should. Like a shiver along the back, an impulse that had made his hair on the arms and clenched his jaw, trying to ignore it.
It was nothing, could not be anything.
Yet, as you turned to take your notebook and start working, he stood still for a moment too long, his eyes still fixed on his hand, as if trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
Jake nervously drummed his fingers on the table, trying to ignore the annoyance that twisted in his stomach every time you came into the library or private rooms to continue with the work your economics professor had assigned.
There were days that you worked together and, if possible, he found you more and more unbearable; you arrived late every time, as if it was your natural right and sincerely thought you did it on purpose to see him annoyed by you. And not a few minutes, once you had waited 40 minutes under the bus shelter and it was raining and when you arrived you looked at him as if you had before you not a human and animal half but a puppy left alone. Although to be honest, today ten minutes seemed almost a miracle, and then the way you dressed... always those little skirts that seemed to come out of an anime for under 18 years old, always those soft sweaters where you let see your skin smooth and perfect that slipped on your shoulders, and the loose hair that framed your face with almost irritating ease.
And your perfume, damn it, your perfume. Every day it seemed to get more intense, more enveloping, as if she wanted to drag him inside without anything he could do about it.
Jake strove to look away while you sat beside him with the usual carelessness, pulling out your notes with exasperating slowness but then saw you take something out of your bag.
A small box and he felt his breath stop for a moment, Jake recognized it instantly.
Anti-hybrid contraceptives. In pill format for girls. In condom format for boys. He felt the blood go to his head instantly, and a burst of heat rose on his cheeks before he could even control himself. Instinctively, he also felt his tail flutter hard, too hard and forced himself to stop it, clearing his throat in a desperate attempt to mask his reaction.
You noticed immediately and, of course, you made you laugh.
"Oh? What’s this face, Jake? You’re a little too reactive to be such a smart hybrid, aren’t you?"
Jake put his hand on his neck, trying to ignore the way his body was reacting against his will.
«It’s nothing,» he mumbled, trying to appear indifferent but you did not let yourself be fooled and you leaned at the table with a mischievous smirk, making the box swing between your fingers.
"Ah-ah, I wouldn’t say. You lit up like a light bulb. What, you’ve never seen one before?"
Jake stared at you. «I know what it is,» he said, trying to keep her cool. «I just didn’t expect you to take it out so... naturally.»
You laugh again and open the box, taking out a pill and swirling it between your fingers.
"Oh, honey, I always have an escort with me. You know, just to be safe. You never know, with all these hybrids around, so obsessed, territorial, and..." you got a little closer, looking at him provocatively, "perverts from morning to night."
Jake clenched his jaw and thought you were a damn problem and the worst part was that you knew exactly how much you were causing it.
You laughed and slipped the pill back into its wrapper.
"I guess your master didn’t explain to you what it means to be ironic, I’ve never taken one of these pills in my life sincerely; I just wanted to make fun of you a little bit," you said, putting the box on the table. " We can talk about it in our essay."
Jake raised an eyebrow and did not understand what I wanted to say sincerely.
«Contraceptives?» he said in a low voice as his cheeks warmed.
"Sure." You leaned on the back of the chair, fiddling with the box. "Come on, think of the gigantic market that has been created since hybrids entered our lives. The anti-hybrid condoms and these pills are very popular. Sometimes they’re even sold out in whole cities. It’s a multimillion-dollar business and thank God they are used to protect us from diseases and becoming mothers too soon!"
Jake nodded slowly, acknowledging that the argument made sense.
«It’s true. We could also talk about the condoms that we hybrids can use to release our seed and knot inside.»
You smiled and clapped Jake’s hands and sensitive ears rose with speed as he heard you slap them and smile.
"Perfect. So let’s try to put down our ideas and see that they are not as bad as you thought!" You gave him a slight elbow in the side and he nodded slightly feeling for a few seconds your skin in contact with his.
You worked, exchanging ideas and writing the first few paragraphs. As much as he found you annoying, Jake had to admit that you were brilliant had a lot of ideas for the head, and knew how to connect concepts, and how to make the essay interesting.
But he... he had a problem.
Since that little box appeared on the table, his body seemed to activate without his permission.
His golden tail did not stop moving, slamming against the leg of the chair. His ears were always on alert, picking up every sound or movement. And then... the heat on his cheeks. He needed to run his hand through his hair, to fix the collar of the sweatshirt as if he could find some relief.
It was a disaster and every time you talked to him you noticed that there was something strange about him and after two hours of notes thrown down in the computer you tore yourself into the chair and cleared your throat and watched him for a moment, narrowing your eyes.
Jake was... beautiful. Too beautiful. The kind of beauty that made hybrids seem even more dangerous than they already were. His face was sculpted but soft in the right places, and when he smiled he had that vaguely mischievous air that made the weak college girls knee-deep, and now, as he stirred, it was even more obvious that his body was reacting strangely.
You bit the inside of your cheek, then, with your usual insolence, you asked:
"Jake... have you ever laid a litter?" He suddenly froze and his eyes opened wide, surprised and passed the drink that he was drinking and you gently shook your hand on his back to make him recover
«What?!» said slightly incredulous of having heard that phrase coming out of your mouth that you couldn’t keep quiet for more than two minutes and you laughed amused.
"You understand very well. Have you ever had a litter?" Jake was speechless for a second, then burst out laughing, incredulous at the blatant question
«No!» and you stared at him, shocked.
"No? What’s not?!"
Jake crossed his arms, shaking his head with a funny smile.
«What surprises you so much? I can not inseminate and tie puppies from morning to night» he told you in a funny way
"You’re a hybrid!" you exclaimed. "I thought it was... boh, part of your instinct. Like, that’s what you were made for, right?"
Jake raised an eyebrow, this timeless amused.
«Wow. Is that how you see it?» said Jake in a somewhat sad and annoyed way, and you shrugged your shoulders, not breaking up.
"I see reality, Jake." He looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head with a half smile.
«Not all hybrids are obsessed with reproduction, you know?»
"No, but most do."
«I don’t,» he replied firmly
"Really?" you said curious
"Y/n. Sooner or later I would like to have a family of either single hybrids or half hybrids but for now, I want to make a career as you are doing, I would like to graduate and then find a job that satisfies me, and who knows also a companion to be with and not only to breed puppies!»
You looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, Jake was really a good guy and you could see that he tried every day to be respected and not fall into the traps of humans and then you bowed your head and smiled again.
"Well, then you’re an anomaly but I like this more "human" side of you that you want to make a career and live a normal life. We are bombarded with stories of hybrids that mate just for pleasure!"
Jake chuckled, returning to writing.
«Or maybe I just have high standards of life and love» he said looking at you and smiling.
"Ah yes?" you said curious
«Yes, Y/n. Go back to studying» You stared at him for a few seconds, then you just laughed, shaking your head.
That afternoon you were writing on the computer all the different types of contraceptive pills for hybrids and read there was a lot for any knot that filled you with animal and you were curious but also a little shocked and wanted to ask too much Jake if he had ever filled some. Nobody at school talked openly about what it meant to be with them in a physical sense. It was a taboo subject in sex education classes, yet, in the real world, everyone talked about it.
Many of your friends had fun with the hybrids at least once, and they all said the same thing.
"It is amazing."
"Being filled with them is an absurd feeling."
"The knot... is the best thing you can feel."
But you were always skeptical, you couldn’t stand certain humans, let alone hybrids. They were stronger, more instinctive, more... Unpredictable yet, sitting next to Jake, curiosity tickled you.
He was so beautiful that it hurt to the eyes, and yet it all seemed almost... Embarrassed when you provoked him you slightly turn towards him, resting your chin on the hand.
"Jake..." He didn’t take his eyes off the notebook, but his ears moved slightly.
«Mh? What other uncomfortable question will you ask me today?» he said laughing.
"Have you ever knotted anyone?" Jake instantly stuck his fingers on the paper, and his tail, which had been moving slowly until then, suddenly twitched and turned to you, and for the first time, he saw something he’d never seen in your eyes before.
Embarrassment, serious, genuine embarrassment.
«What?!» he asked, almost as if he had not heard well.
"You heard me very well, don’t be shy with me. Have you ever knotted anyone?" Jake felt the heat rise to his head in a flash. He ran his hand through his hair, as he always did when he felt nervous and looked away.
«I..» He shook his head and you flashed your eyes.
"Oh, come on!" you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh. "You’re a liar. You’re too good-looking to have never been with anyone."
Jake gnawed his cheek inside and heard his tail churning for your appreciation of him, he didn’t like where he was going to end that conversation, not with you so close, not with that perfume that invaded his lungs and clouded his thoughts.
«It happened only once,» he finally admitted, with a lower tone. You stared at him carefully, grasping the tension in his body, the way he seemed to... restrain himself.
"So? How was it? Did you like it?" Jake put his hand over his neck, undecided whether or not to answer, and finally sighed.
«No.» You stopped laughing and looked at him, confused.
"What do you mean?" you said in a low voice and Jake looked down slightly.
«It was not... an act of pleasure.» he paused, clenching his hands. «They used me only to make me lose my virginity, both hybrid and animal.»
You felt something gripping your stomach and you didn’t expect it, not from him.
You had always mocked him, convinced that he was like all the other hybrids, that he was just another boy too handsome and too sure of himself but now, seeing him like this... You wanted to say something, to fill the gap that had been created between you.
You approached him cautiously, looking at him with a mixture of hesitation and displeasure. You had never seen him so... Vulnerable and without thinking too much, you reached out your hand and gently caressed his golden ears. Jake froze for a second, surprised by the contact, then unintentionally relaxed. It was as if his body reacted by itself as if your gesture had a calming effect on him. His tail, which until then had been agitating nervously, stopped.
"Sorry," you whispered, in a tone you had never used with him before and Jake shrugged, looking away.
«You can even stop pretending to be sorry,» he said, with a half-bitter smile. «I know very well that you don’t care about me. You just like to tease me.»
You looked at him for a long moment, then shook your head.
"No. I won’t make fun of you any more about these things. And I won’t ask you any more personal questions." Jake turned to you with a cheeky smirk, his usual cocky attitude coming back to life.
«Oh? Then it’s my turn to ask personal questions?»
You raised an eyebrow. "Depends on the question."
Jake leaned against the table with a relaxed look, then looked you straight in the eye.
«Have you ever been with a boy?» Did you get stuck for a moment Jake tilted his head slightly. «I mean, did you lose your virginity?» And at that moment you realized he had asked you the exact same question. And you were bad with him and looked slightly down, then nodded slowly.
"Yes. I had... a kind of boyfriend" Jake stood in silence, waiting for him to continue and you were fiddling with the pen between your fingers as if you were unsure what to say.
"But I didn’t enjoy sex with him so much, maybe because I didn’t love him or to be honest I never loved anyone" Jake heard a slight growl forming in his throat, Almost imperceptible when he heard that you were not in love with that boy and that you did not like the sexual act.
«Did he hurt you?» Asked in a low voice and you felt that there was something in his tone that made you shudder, it wasn’t just curiosity, it was protection, it was territoriality and Jake felt the urgency grow inside of him uncontrollably. A primordial need to protect you from having you for yourself.
You looked into his eyes and shook your head.
"No, it didn’t hurt" but you saw that Jake wasn’t the same anymore, you were furious with yourself, you had used too heavy words with Jake, and now he was looking at you with a hidden wound and without thinking,
You grabbed it by the collar of the sweatshirt and pulled it to you, the lips that collided with hers in a kiss full of emotion and repressed anger.
God, what were you doing?
Jake stood motionless for a moment, surprised, but his animal instinct overwhelmed him soon after. His hands slid on your hips, holding them firmly as he lifted you with ease and seated you on the table. Her kiss answered yours with a mix of sweetness and pure possession, the lips that devoured yours with growing hunger.
«Y/n...» he murmured against your mouth between one kiss and another, the warm breath that touched your skin. «You are a little pest. Always teasing me, eh?»
Smile at his lips, nibbling on his lower lip before answering. " And you’re a golden retriever always too loyal... but maybe you have a wild side after all."
Jake growled quietly, amused and provoked by his words. «Oh, Y/n... you don’t even know what trouble you’re in.»
His hands went up your thighs, making you feel the warmth of his touch even through your clothes and you stroked his ears, knowing exactly how sensitive he was at that point. A shiver passed through Jake, who closed his eyes for a moment, panting softly.
«Damnation, Y/n...» he whispered with a crooked smile. «If you continue like this, I will not answer for my actions.»
You slowly recline, sinking your fingers in his hair. "What if that’s exactly what I want?"
When you left, Jake’s tail couldn’t stop. He felt so good, but at the same time excited, and whispered to you: «You are driving me crazy from the first day.» you smiled maliciously and tried to kiss him on the neck. When Jake heard you lightly sucking his skin near the ear, he groaned softly but immediately broke away from you.
«We can’t continue,» he said in a roaring voice and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Why not?"
Jake sighed, lowering his voice. «Why would I stop. I’d fill you with my knot several times,Y/n. Your perfume makes me go crazy. And I know you’re still reluctant about hybrids... If I gave you to me, everything would change between us.»
His look was serious, intense. «For me, it’s not a game, and I know it’s not for you either. You act like a cheeky little girl, but I know that you have respect for me and the other hybrids. First, you have to figure out if you really like me or if I’m just a hobby. When you find the answer, you’ll tell me. But until you know, I can’t take any chances. I want to be just one person. I don’t want to get hurt again.» And with these words, he gave you a little kiss on the forehead and made you stand up from the table.
In those weeks of study, you were still a cheeky and popular girl with Jake you loved to tease him but at the same time understand him. You had first seen him in his animal form as a golden retriever and he was beautiful and playful with you, Jake had made you meet Sunghoon a friend of his hybrid snow fox, and Jungwon a hybrid Bengal cat. At first, you were strange and anxious about this thing but over time you had made friends with them and well Jake every day that passed could not stop touching you.
You kissed a little too much even though you weren’t engaged. He explained everything about him and the sexual part of the knot and slowly you realized that he was really starting to like you and becoming more and more important to you.
The research you and Jake had done on the economic boom of hybrids using anti-hybrid contraceptives was a success. The professor even complimented you. But that victory also had a downside: you didn’t have Jake as your work partner anymore. You noticed it, he seemed a bit down in morale, even if he never admitted it openly.
Fortunately, you both studied economics, so over the next few months you would have had more classes together.
The students of the course had organized a party and you were there with your friends, dressed in a dress perhaps a little too succinct for Jake’s standards. He looked at you with that territorial gaze, every interaction you had with some human being, especially male, seemed to make him tremble with irritation. He knew you were popular, but not that much. He noticed how some guys looked at you all night and, at one point, he got fed up.
With his tail wagging slightly and his ears raised, he approached you with a grin.
«Baby», he said, tilting his head with fake innocence, «are you aware of how many glances you attract with that little dress?»
You gave him a mischievous smile, sipping your drink. "Oh? Are you worried about me, puppy?"
Jake snorted, getting even closer. «Worried? No. Tired of seeing all these idiots staring at you as if you were a succulent meal? Absolutely yes.»
You laugh and enjoy his jealousy. "What’s the problem? It’s not my fault I’m pretty."
He clenched his jaw slightly, then leaned towards you, his voice getting lower. You know, you could be a little more discreet. Don’t you mind being looked at like that?»
You came even closer, your lips a few centimeters from hers. "And you don’t mind?"
Jake looked at you for a moment, then his hand touched your side with an almost imperceptible but possessive gesture. «It depends. If you want all those guys to know that you’re out of reach, I can make it clear to them.»
You raised an eyebrow, nibbling your lip. "Oh? How would you do that?"
Jake smiled, tilting his head. «Do you really want to find out, Y/n? Because I don’t know if you’ll like being claimed in front of everyone.»
Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept the cheek.
"Maybe you should try it, then. Let’s see if you have the courage."
Jake laughed softly, his eyes shone with a dangerous light. «You’re playing with fire, baby. And you know it.»
You smiled, caressing his ear distractedly, making the poor hybrid shudder. "And then burn me, Jake."
Late at night, the music was still pulsing in the disco and everyone was dancing. You were having fun too, but Jake, tired of the whole situation, came up to you with a look full of tension. «I can’t take it anymore," he murmured in a low, hoarse voice.»
You smiled maliciously and, caressing his soft golden retriever ears, mocked him. " Oh, does the little golden retriever have to sleep?"
Jake growled softly, approaching you with a predatory look. «I’m not tired of sleep,» he hissed, his eyes fixed on you. «I can’t stand to see you dancing with those idiots anymore. I want you so much, Y/n. You’re driving me crazy.»
Without thinking too much, you took his hand and together left the disco, walking quickly towards your university room. The journey was quiet, charged with electricity, and as you closed the door behind you, Jake did not waste time. His hands squeezed you firmly as his lips pressed against yours in a possessive but sweet kiss, laden with desire held back for too long. His tongue explored his mouth with greed, while one of his hands crept into your hair, squeezing it lightly to hold you close.
It was only for a moment, the breathless breath. «I want you, Y/n. I want to make you mine.»
You looked at him with bright eyes, your heart beating like crazy. Annuisti, but Jake was not satisfied. He touched your face with his nose, his warm breath on your skin. «No, I want to hear your beautiful voice tell me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you want to be mine... that you want my knot to fill you.»
You shivered at the sound of those words, feeling the heat enveloping you more and more. He looked at you with devastating intensity, waiting for your answer.
"I want to be yours, Jake." When Jake heard these words coming out of your mouth slightly pushed you onto the bed and without thinking began to smell you and then give you small kisses on your neck mixed with small pacifiers and light bites to claim you that made you crazy and moan his name, You began to rub yourself in its length covered by his jeans and at the same time caressing his hair and his ears and felt it more and more excited and the same thing happened to you.
There was something almost intoxicating in having him over you, his wide body looming over yours, his dark brown eyes with heavy eyelids peering at you as if he wanted to devour you completely and to have you all to himself, continued his kiss trail along your body, Stopping only when you pulled the top over your head, leaving you with only your underwear and saw his cheeks warm up when he took off your breast-rest and began to tease with one hand your right breast and the other began to suck your bud; It was a beautiful feeling and while he sucked you and left some trail of saliva you pinched him slightly and stuck your back to the feeling of his hands in your breast and his tongue that was doing a dangerous game just to tease you and make you go away the head.
«Fuck, you’re so sexy but at the same time sensitive to my touch». Jake panted as his hand touched your breast, the nipple creaking against the cold feeling of his tongue making you groan. You were so sensitive, the feeling sent you a jolt, gasping as Jake smiled at your skin and thought if you were so sensitive with only his tongue in your buds, he couldn’t wait to see you go crazy while he’d innocence you to him and push himself inside of you.
His other hand slid between your legs, touching the wet stain that had formed on your underwear as you pushed into his hand with a moan.
«Fuck, you’re soaked for me, baby». Groaning to the feeling of your excitement covering his fingers, the lips meeting yours once again in a hungry kiss, Jake detached himself from your lips, quickly lifting his shirt off his body as he threw it somewhere in the room, The sound of his belt unbuckling hit you right to the heart.
You watched him in just his boxers and he was definitely beautiful, his hair was messy, his cheeks were red, his body had beautiful abdominal ridges and you licked your lips when you saw his V-line go down to the stuffing of its length.
"I want you so much." Whining.
Jake smiled as he hovered over you again, his hands meeting your full boob again and the other hand traveling to your inner thigh, snapping his finger under the hem of your panties, caressing your clitoris, and ripping a jolt.
"Jake..." you panicked, hands clenching on his shoulders as the pleasure slowly invaded you. He smiled, bowing down to kiss your neck with warm and moist lips. «Calm down, baby...» he whispered in a tone full of possessive sweetness. «I have to prepare you well. I too can’t wait to fill you up, but I want you to be ready.»
You could feel the redness rising up your neck as her touch made you shiver, your thighs trembling with desire.
"Please..." you said in a low voice as you heard him take off your wet panties
«Please, what?» His thumb caressed your clitoris, the sudden friction made you groan, and Jake moved away slightly, his lips brushing your lobe as he murmured. The heat that accumulated in your stomach overwhelmed you as you felt that with one finger he was tickling your clitoris and with another had filled your pussy pulsing around him, You felt that it was pumping and at the same time, it was teasing your clitoris and pinching it just to make you arch your back and beg you to have it inside of you.
God, where was the shy boy who would be embarrassed if you teased him?
"Fuck me, please Jake, I need you" As you came in his fingers he lifted up slightly and your hands fell down, finding their warm and pulsating length between his delicate fingers.
Jake moans softly to the touch, his breath accelerated as his fingers sank deeper into its wet center. «Damn it, baby... You’re so perfect...» he mumbled against your skin, nibbling at her ear lobe.
You barely moved, the hands exploring him with curiosity and need, while your body was tending more and more under his caresses. "Jake... I can’t wait any longer..." You whispered with a supple tone and lowered his boxer shorts and saw his lengthy erected and full of slime liquid and you couldn’t wait to be tied to him and feel it inside you.
"Fuck." You whisper, wondering how beautiful his cock was, which was clinging around your hands and you pumped it slightly and Jake looked at you softly as he put it on top of you. «God, you’re so fucking beautiful.»
You both groan simultaneously at the feeling of his cock touching your clitoris and moving again, aligning with your entrance.
«Ready?» he asked, with a roaring and stinging voice and with a tail that was rumbling for joy and anude, biting his lip.
"Use your words, princess.» he flicked his toe along your folds
"Yes! Yes, please. Fuck me."
He shoved his cock tip into the heat, rubbing it provocatively against your folds and Jake groaned as he pushed his length inside you, your body twitching at that feeling.
It was hot. Big. Deep. The knot was filling you in a way that you would never have imagined; now you understood why human girls were crazy about hybrids. It wasn’t just pleasure-it was the feeling of being held, tied, branded. There was no escape, and yet you didn’t want to run away. Every movement of Jake made you shiver, his knot pulsed inside you, and the mixture of pain and pleasure sent you crazy.
Jake’s dark eyes devoured you, full of desire, with a visceral lust that made him almost savage. The hybrid instinct in him roared, calling you, asking to brand you, to bind her to himself permanently.
When he finally pushed himself inside you, a deep growl escaped from his lips. The feeling was overwhelming, perfect.
"Jake..." your voice trembled, and your eyes were bright as the knot pressed inside you. "It’s so... intense."
He stopped for a moment, inhaling your scent, that sweet aroma mixed with sweat that was driving him crazy.
«Shh, baby... » he leaned over you, the tongue that touched your neck, tasting you. «My knot is trying to tie you to me.»
He pushed deeper and you held your breath as he felt the knot swell, and expand inside you. The mixture of pleasure and that subtle burning made you shiver.
"Jake... the knot..." anxiously, the nails slid down his back, scratching him slightly. "It’s too much... it’s driving me crazy."
He kissed you with force, suffocating his groans in your mouth, the tongue that explored yours with a primitive, possessive hunger.
«You’re almost there." His breath was warm against your skin, his ears flattened for pleasure. «Your body is adapting to me... do you feel it? You are perfect for receiving me.»
It moved again, and the pressure within you increased. You trembled when the knot swelled further, locking it inside you, and preventing it from coming out.
"God..." whispers, clenching at him. "You’re driving me crazy."
Jake smiled at your skin, the tail moving slowly behind him like a satisfied predator.
«Fuck you, baby feel how it grows inside of you.» With each push, you felt the knot getting bigger and bigger and the pleasure penetrated you completely as you felt Jake always pushing himself inside of you and at the same time tickling your clitoris to make you come.
«You know what it means, don’t you?» His voice was low, seductive, almost hypnotic. «It means that my body is trying to tie you to me. He’s trying to... put my puppies inside you.» Your eyes pounded, the heart pounding in your chest. He touched your cheek with his lips, then dropped down the neck, leaving little bites everywhere, imprinting his mark on you.
«I know you’re taking the anti-hybrid contraceptives, baby.» His smile was almost smug. «But sooner or later my knot will fill you in the way it should.»
A shiver passed through you. Those words should have frightened you, but instead, they lit something inside of you, something deep and primordial; you felt the rush of chills and adrenaline take you in the blow and came and after two more pushes Jake filled you completely with his knot and his sperm came out of you and he licked you while you felt that it was still hard and him with those puppy eyes but mixed to territoriality and perversion you looked and nodded slightly as you felt that he sank his cock inside you again, Jake sank his face into the hollow of your neck breathing in your sweet and intoxicating scent while his knot still pulsed inside her. He felt you tremble, your body still shaken by the waves of pleasure that had swept you both away.
«You are so perfect for me... feel how your body is holding me back? As if it didn’t want to let me out...» He said in a hoarse voice, kissing your jaw softly
"I feel it, Jake... God, I feel so full..." you said with a sigh of pleasure
Jake moved slowly inside of you, feeling the pressure wrap him even more, the swollen knot that was still glued to you.
«And you will always be. Always full of me. Of my knot... and my seed.» he said whispering in your ear, with a satisfied smile.
You visibly shudder at his words, a mixture of excitement and total surrender in your dark eyes.
"Yes... yes... I want to be all yours... filled by you..."
Jake kissed you ardently, slowly sinking again «Good, baby. Tell me how much you like it.»
You were anxiously, clinging even more to him. "Jake... you make me feel so good... it’s too beautiful... I still feel the knot throbbing inside of me..."
Jake laughed softly at your lips «Because my body knows that you are mine. I will never have enough of you.»
He moved again, this time more deeply, and moaned, feeling the heat spread everywhere.
Jake with a satisfied sigh, caressed your face sweetly as he looked into your eyes «Do you want some more, baby?»
Bite your lip, clenching your legs around his hips with a mischievous smile: "Yes... yes, Jake... I want more."
Jake growled softly, with a satisfied smile as he kissed you passionately. «Then let me fill you up again. Cause I’m not done with you.»
When Jake broke away from you after you came, he helped you gently clean himself by caressing your face. «Did I hurt you?» He asked with a thread of concern in his voice as he saw you still shaken.
You laughed, shaking your head. "No, you were incredible... just a little intense!"
Jake hugged you, like a real puppy looking for affection, and kissed your head with sweetness. «You’re perfect for me,» I murmured, clenching myself. «You drive me crazy every time... and I think I’m starting to love you."
You looked at him surprised, your heart beating faster in your chest. " I have never loved anyone... but when I am with you I feel something strong," you admitted, looking down.
Jake smiled and, jokingly, whispered: «I can’t wait to hear it for real.»
You chuckled and replied with a fake bored tone: "Yes, maybe in a couple of years."
He burst out laughing and, without warning, began to tickle you, making you laugh and trying to shake off his loving hands. The room was full of laughter, and complicit looks, something that was growing between you, stronger and stronger.
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blightbright · 1 day ago
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#sorry I just really hate this take #because there’s so much in canon actively disproving it #and it only really exists to take away all of solas’ agency so he can’t be blamed for any of his crimes #which is like. the entire point of his character. he did those crimes. and then pretends he had to when he didn’t #that’s like. his whole thing
(tags from the above post) Again, there are multiple valid interpretations in Veilguard, because they left it vague, and different people find different takes compelling for various reasons and in various moments of time! I'm not gonna respond exactly point by point (although I have considered the questions you're asking!) but I will say that when I tried to kick the tires of the idea of "Solas is still enslaved until Morrigan uses the final fragment of Mythal's power to release him" (please note IMO it required Morrigan fully taking over the entirety of Mythal's remaining power, because most abusers/slavers will never willingly relinquish their control) and tried to ponder if it can hold up or if canon debunks it, I found it actually can hold up, depending on interpretation and how one decides the mechanics of the magic might work. But it's cool if it's not for you.
The main point I will add is when you said this: "Solas is not literally bound to Mythal. If he was, he’d never have been able to rebel against her in the first place..."
If we step outside the context of DA for a minute and think about the struggles of enslaved and/or imprisoned people more broadly, we can see that, in fact, most rebellions against slavery are led by those who are enslaved. People being constrained in some way (even when they are INTENSELY dehumanized, treated as chattel, and restricted in the most microscopic aspects of their life, speech, and movement) always find clever ways to resist. (Even Solas' highly restrictively bound Wisdom friend in DA:I rebelled by crying out for help psychically in the Fade.) That's the story that's most interesting to me right now. That's what feels meaningful to me at this point in my life. I personally see that story all over Solas' story, there are so many aspects of his plot and backstory that align with it, and I like exploring that. I add magic back in and headcanon that there are certain direct orders/magical programming that he can't avoid that linger even after most of Mythal has died, and others that he's able to circumvent. I see a whole lot of ambiguity in terms of what are his own bad choices, what are kinda his choices but corrupted magically/spiritually, and what's straight up stuff that old direct order remnants are forcing. It also raises age-old questions (without objective answers) about if it's even useful to try and untangle those things at all.
I don't think it's particularly fair to say that a take grappling with a canonically-identified slave rebellion leader's slavery rebellion experience is merely to take away his agency. Or (and you didn't use this word, but I will use it!) that it inherently woobifies him or whatever. I think he's an incredibly complicated character who is not a mindless drone. In that context, it became a more interesting story for me personally when I asked, wait hold on, what if Solas has been trying to resist this whole time? What if he really is begging people to stop him, because the slavery-induced magical inclination to "casually reshape reality" to bring Mythal (his canonical slaver at some point, if we consider vallaslin slave markings, as Cole and Solas do) back to her full power is something Solas has been able to sidestep, fuck with, delay, but cannot, by himself, fully avoid?
No, the veil did not need to come down. It never did.
Something that is extremely consistent throughout inquisition is that the tears in the fade are HURTING spirits. Spirit society, like mortal society, has adapted to having the veil present and just like mortal society it is being thrown into chaos by its weakening.
Something that is consistent throughout trespasser and the media between trespasser and veilguard is that taking down the veil would have harmed everyone and destroyed society as we know it, at the very least killing most (if not all) humans, dwarves and qunari (who have no less of a right to exist than the elves).
He says as much in trespasser, and then never denies it when called out. It’s always “do you truly believe that is my plan” and “I had plans to minimise the damage”, never an explicit “no, that would not happen”. He tells the inquisitor that tearing down the veil will destroy the world and then never denies it when asked, he just stops being so open about it. This is a man who uses careful wording so that he can say he rarely lies, what he doesn’t say is deeply significant.
The veil going up initially hurt people, but the world has since adapted and is now in a state where tearing it down would cause more damage for no reason. The veil being put up hurt elven society because they had buildings that relied on both places, but they no longer have that. Nobody is being actively hurt by the veil being up, bringing it down would just destroy everything to get a world that is different but not inherently better.
But Solas regrets putting it up. Solas wishes he didn’t put it up. He wants to take it down, not because it is actively hurting anyone, but because he feels bad about it. It’s something he regrets, something he wishes he hadn’t done, and taking it down will placate his conscience. And all the consequences can be justified under “i feel sad about it but it had to be done” even though it didn’t ever have to be done. This is how he has justified every crime before.
Rook has not doomed the world by keeping the veil up. They have saved this world, instead of dooming it to cling onto scraps of a culture long long dead and placate the conscience of a man who has never been able to handle the concept of “no”.
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undercoverangell · 2 days ago
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“penelope was a spartan so she’d be so buff and into violence and murder haha!! thats why she was so chill w odysseus killing all the suitors!!!” WRONG!!!
shes buff and into violence and murder and killing bc shes just like that. god forbid women have hobbies. hobbies like. stare at husband covered in blood. admire husband covered in blood. carnally desire husband covered in --
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smoooothoperator · 1 day ago
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Rewrite The Stars
02: Brave
Lando Norris x surgeon!OC (Lyra Montgomery)
runnaway bride, forbidden love, destinated lovers, love triangle, second chance, road trip, slow burn
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: Lando POV, anxiety, unrequired love
Masterlist
previous part
a/n: Are you guys excited to read what comes next? What do you think will happen??
If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!
Every way of feedback is very welcomed
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🏎️
The hotel is stunning. 
Grand yet intimate, with towering arched windows that let in the golden afternoon light, illuminating the soft gold tones of the decorations. The courtyard is meticulously arranged, white roses cascading from centerpieces, lining the long aisle that stretches toward a floral arch at the altar. 
Everything is harmonious, perfectly selected, elegant without being too much. It looks expensive but simple, luxurious but romantic.
It looks exactly like something Lyra would have dreamed of.
I walk through the space slowly, dragging my fingers along the backs of the white velvet chairs, feeling the soft fabric under my fingertips as I force myself to take it all in.
Every single detail, every single flower arrangement, it’s all familiar. 
Because I’ve heard about it before. Because I remember the night she described it to me in perfect detail, years ago, before either of us had even thought about marriage as something real, when it was still just an idea, a fantasy.
We were fifteen.
We had been lying in her backyard after one of her sisters’ weddings, the cool grass beneath us, the scent of summer in the air and a plate full of sweets we stole from the kids table.
"I want my weddig to be perfect."
I had turned my head to look at her, rolling my eyes in that way I always did when she got carried away. 
"It's just a wedding, Lyra." I sighed.
She had gasped, appalled, before shoving me so hard that the air left my lungs for a second.
"It is not just a wedding, Lando!” she exclaimed, blushing deeply. “Weddings are special, and mine is going to be exactly how I want it. Roses everywhere, like an actual fairytale, but not red ones. White or maybe light pink. No, white is better... And I don’t want it in some boring church. I want it outside, maybe by the sea, where you can hear the waves in the background while I walk down the aisle. And my dress has to be simple but elegant, nothing too over the top, but something that makes me feel like I belong in a storybook..."
I let her talk, like I always did, letting her fill the silence with her plans and her dreams because I liked the way her voice sounded when she got excited, because I liked the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things she loved.
Now, standing here, staring at the reality of that childhood dream, I feel something twist in my chest, something that makes it almost impossible to breathe.
Because this is it, this is what she always wanted.
And none of it, not a single part of it, has anything to do with me.
I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face, willing the ache in my chest to disappear, but it doesn't. It just sits there, heavy and suffocating, like a weight pressing down on me. 
I don’t know why I came. Maybe because I needed to see it for myself, needed to face the reality of it, needed to let it hurt so badly that I would finally get it through my head that this isn’t a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. This isn’t something I can change. This is her life. Her choice.
And I was never a part of it.
Maybe I always thought I would be. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that at some point, eventually, I was going to tell her. That there would be a right time, a perfect moment where I could finally say the words I had been swallowing since I was twelve years old, the words that had been buried under years of friendship and missed chances. 
But that moment never came.
She never looked at me the way I looked at her. And I had never had the courage to say anything before it was too late.
I glance up toward the hotel, where I know she must be right now.
I wonder what she’s doing. Is she nervous? Excited? I wonder if she’s looking at herself in the mirror and feeling like the happiest version of herself. 
And then I wonder if she’s thought about me at all.
If, even for a second, I crossed her mind today.
I have to go inside. I have to find her, talk to her, say something, anything. I have to tell her how I feel, even if it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if it never mattered in the first place.
But what good would it do?
She made her choice.
And it wasn’t me.
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I spent years imagining what she would look like on her wedding day.
It wasn’t intentional. But sometimes, the idea of it came into my mind when I least expected it. During long flights home, during late nights alone, during the silence between races when my mind wasn’t occupied enough to keep her away.
I thought of her in white, of the way her orange hair might be styled, the way her smile would look softer, gentle, full of something I never got to have.
And yet, nothing I had ever imagined compared to the reality of seeing her there.
Frozen in front of the door to his room, quiet as a statue,with her fingers clenched so tightly on the dress that her knuckles were white.
For a moment, I can’t move.
I don’t think she even realizes I’m standing there. Her breathing is shallow, her shoulders too stiff, as if she’s waiting for something.
I shouldn’t be here. I know that.
I should turn around, walk away before she notices me, before I make this harder than it already is. But then, just as I will myself to leave, her hand lifts slightly, as if she’s going to push the door open.
But she doesn’t. She hesitates.
And that hesitation makes something crack open in my chest.
I don’t think about it. I just take a step forward.
“Lyra?”
The word barely leaves my lips before she flinches, turning sharply to face me.
For the first time in over a year, I see her. Really see her. 
And she is so damn beautiful it almost brings me to my knees.
The dress, the makeup, the way her hair falls down on her back, it’s all exactly how I imagined it, and yet it feels so painfully wrong, because she’s not wearing it for me.
Her wide eyes search mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t her looking at me like I’m the last person she expected to see, like she doesn’t know how to breathe now that I’m here.
Like maybe, just maybe, she missed me too.
She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly before she finally says my name.
“Lando.”
God, I missed the way she says it.
It’s the same voice, the same familiar tone, and yet something about it sounds different. 
I blink, my throat tightening as I exhale, trying to ground myself in this moment.
“You-” I start, but the words die in my throat as my gaze flickers past her, to the closed door she had been staring at.
Something heavy settles in my stomach.
I don’t ask. I don’t let myself ask. 
But I don’t need to.
“I-” she mumbles, her voice barely audible as a whisper.
I can see it in her face, in the way she won’t meet my eyes for longer than a second, in the way she’s gripping her dress like she’s afraid she might fall apart if she lets go.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, trying to ease the anxiety she might be feeling.
She should say yes. She should laugh, roll her eyes, tell me I have no right to ask her that after all this time. But she doesn’t.
She just stands there, silent, and for the first time since I’ve known her, Lyra Montgomery doesn’t have an answer.
Her fingers tremble around the bouquet, her shoulders rising and falling too quickly, and something in me breaks.
I was supposed to come here and tell her how I feel, that was the plan: to find her before the wedding, to say everything I had been too much of a coward to say for the past ten years. That I loved her. That I had always loved her. That I should have said something sooner, that maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but I needed her to know.
But now, looking at her, really looking at her, I know I can’t.
Because this isn’t about me. It never was.
She’s standing here in her wedding dress, minutes away from marrying someone else, and she looks terrified. 
Something is wrong.
And I don’t know what it is.
But I can do one thing. I can be there for her, just this once.
“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” I sighed, trying to organize my own thoughts and feelings, walking closer to her.
She blinks, caught off guard.
“What?”
“Not far” I add quickly, tilting my head toward the end of the hallway. “Just… somewhere quiet.”
Somewhere away from that door. Somewhere away from whatever is making her grip her dress like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
She hesitates.
And then, slowly, she nods.
I don’t say anything else. I just start walking, knowing she’ll follow.
And she does.
We step outside through one of the hotel’s side entrances, the cool air biting at my skin. The garden is empty, the wedding setup untouched, waiting for the guests to arrive.
I lean against the low stone wall near a fountain, watching her as she stands a few steps away.
I missed her.
I missed her so much it physically hurts.
“I missed you” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
She stiffens, inhaling sharply.
I can see the war on her face, the way she bites the inside of her cheek, the way her grip on her dress tightens just slightly.
“Lando…”
“Did you miss me?” I ask. My voice is steady, but there’s something raw underneath it.
She exhales sharply, looking away, shaking her head like she doesn’t know how to answer. 
“This is ridiculous. You show up after what, a year? And now you want to talk?”
I flinch. But I deserve that.
“I didn’t come here to fight, Lyra.”
“Then why did you come?” she challenges, crossing her arms.
I hesitate. Because I can’t tell her the truth.
I can’t tell her that I came here to confess, that I wanted to be selfish just for once in my life.
So instead, I say the only thing I can.
“Do you really want to get married?”
She stills.
And that’s when I know.
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t snap at me, doesn’t tell me I’m an idiot for even asking.
She just looks at me, and in that moment, I know that no matter how much she loves him, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise, she’s not sure.
Not really.
“I should go. I have to get ready” she said, forcing a smile.
I swallow hard, glancing away before I do something stupid.
I don’t say anything else. Before she turns around to leave, I just reach into my pocket, pulling out a set of keys.
“What-”
I stand in frint of her and grab her free hand, placing the keys and pressing them on her palm. I let my fingers linger on her skin just for a second, noticing how sweaty her palms are, how nervous she is.
“They’re for my car,” I say, taking a step back. “and my apartment.”
“What?” her breath catches, looking at the keys.
“If you need to get away” I continue. “If you need… a way out.”
She stares at the keys like they might burn her. She should throw them back at me. She should walk away. But she doesn’t.
She takes them. She puts them inside of the pocket of her dress.
And when she finally leaves, she doesn’t look back.
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I sit in the last row with my hands clasped together, elbows resting on my knees, my foot tapping against the stone floor in a nervous rhythm I can’t seem to stop. I am away from the carefully arranged guests, away from the family, the friends, the people who have every right to be here. Because I don’t belong.
I never have.
And maybe that’s why I don’t hear her approach.
The sharp click, click, click of her heels against the stone floor doesn’t register until it’s too late.
Until she’s right there.
I didn't move at first. I don’t even look up. I know who it is before she speaks, before the familiar scent of her overpowering perfume invades my senses.
Elena Montgomery.
Lyra’s mother.
“Lando Norris” she purrs, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp. “I must admit it, I was hoping you would show up.”
Slowly, I look up, meeting the icy blue eyes of the woman who has hated me since the moment I met her daughter. She stands beside my chair, dressed in an elegant blue gown, diamonds at her throat, and a manicured hand resting delicately on her hip.
She doesn’t sit. She just wants to look down at me.
And I say nothing.
Because I know her game. And I won’t fucking play it.
“Tell me, does it hurt?” she asks, tilting her head, studying me like I’m something pathetic.
I clench my jaw, but don’t answer.
But she keeps talking, making my blood boil in my veins.
“Watching her marry someone else” she pauses, lets the words sink in, then continues. “You came all this way, sat yourself in the back like a loyal little dog, but you’ll never have her.”
I exhale slowly, turning my gaze back to the altar, to the empty aisle.
Elena follows my gaze, and when she speaks again, her voice is even softer, almost sweet, but tainted with poison as always.
“You know, I sent you the invitation.”
That makes me look at her.
“What?” I mumble.
“Oh, Lyra didn’t know that, of course. But I made sure you got it” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I wanted you to see it happen, Lando. I wanted you to sit here and watch as she becomes Edward’s wife.”
The words land deep in my chest, stabbing me with a precision only a woman like her is capable of.
And she knows it. That’s why she’s smiling.
Because this is a game to her. A victory. A final, calculated move to remind me that I was never good enough.
She straightens, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress, and then placing her hand on my shoulder, her nails pressing into the material of the shirt.
“You were always a foolish little boy, clinging to something that was never yours to begin with” she sighs.. “But I suppose I should thank you. Your presence here today makes this even more satisfying-”
“Are you done?” I interrupted her.
She frowned and groaned, taking away her hand from my shoulder and putting a fake smile on her lips. I don’t even blink as Elena scoffs and takes a step back, as if I’m no longer worth her time.
And as she walks away, I sit there, completely still, eyes locked on the path Lyra is supposed to take.
The moment the string quartet starts playing, the air shifts.
The delicate melody washes over the crowd like a wave, and again, everything feels scripted, like we’re part of a performance where every move has been choreographed, where everyone knows their place, their role
And her role, the perfect bride, walking toward the perfect groom, in the perfect wedding, begins now.
I exhale slowly, keeping my face neutral as every pair of eyes turns toward the entrance.
And then, she appears.
Lyra.
She walks slowly, arm hooked with her father’s, bouquet gripped tightly in her hands. Too tightly. The knuckles of her fingers are pale against the delicate flowers.
No one else sees it.
No one else notices the way her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. No one else sees the way she blinks a little too often, or the way her fingers tremble against the silk of her dress.
But I do.
I see her.
And I know she’s not okay.
I can feel it, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many miles stretched between us.
I watch her carefully, my pulse thrumming against my ribs, my stomach twisted into something sharp and uneasy.
And then I realize, she’s searching for something.
No.
She’s searching for someone.
For a second, my breath catches in my throat..
Her green eyes move over the crowd, barely lingering on the guests, skipping past familiar faces. She looks toward the altar, where Edward is standing, waiting, his expression unreadable.
But then her gaze moves past him.
And she finds me.
It’s only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough.
Enough for me to see the raw, desperate emotion in her eyes. 
She looks at me like she needs me. Like she’s begging me to say something, to do something.
And I can’t.
I can’t tell her what to do. I can’t make this choice for her.
So I do the only thing I can.
I nod.
Just slightly. Just enough to tell her that it’s okay. That she can do this. That if she wants to walk down that aisle, if she wants to say yes, I won’t stop her.
But the second I do it, something changes.
Her breath stutters.
And then she takes a step back.
My stomach drops.
I see the exact moment the panic overtakes her, the exact second she realizes she can’t do it.
Her father turns to her, confused, whispering something under his breath, but she doesn’t respond.
And then, suddenly she moves. She runs.
She lifts the hem of her dress and turns around, running away from her father, the veil slipping from her hair as she disappears down the path, away from the altar, away from Edward, away from the life everyone expected her to walk into.
And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.
And then, chaos erupts.
A woman screams. Lyra’s mother is on her feet, hands pressed to her mouth in absolute horror. People stand, murmur, panic.
And me?
I laugh.
Quietly, at first. Just a breathy laugh. But then it grows, making my stomach hurt and my cheeks turn red full of tears as I feel the lack of air because of the attack of laughter.
Because this is so Lyra.
Of course she would wait until the very last second to make a decision. 
I don’t even glance at Edward. I don’t care what his expression is, if he’s chasing after her or if he’s frozen in place, humiliated in front of Monaco’s elite.
Because all I care about is that she got away.
I slip out of the crowd before anyone can notice, disappearing through a side entrance and onto the street.
I don’t need to guess where she went.
I knew the second I put those keys in her hand and she put them in the pocket of her dress.
The taxi ride to my apartment is quiet, my fingers tapping against my knee, my pulse still racing from the adrenaline of watching her run away. 
And then, when I open the door of my apartment with the in case keys, the scent of her perfume is the first thing that hits me.
She's here.
Sitting on my couch, still in her wedding dress, barefoot, knees pulled up to her chest as she drinks a can of Coca-Cola while watching the screen of the television in my living room.
Her shoulders rise and fall with each uneven breath, and when she hears me, her head snaps up.
And the first thing I see?
The relief in her eyes.
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