#i just see her as very fem in fact i have a board for her i havent posted

[primarykidd0o]

Subspace Tripmine bkard

hello anon do you have any specific themes you want for this because my interpretation of subspace is severely different from the rest of the fandom i can guarantee you that

[astonmartinii]

a spoonful of sugar | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 124,509 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: WOAH WHAT IT'S OSCAR'S HOME RACE WEEK? that mean's it's time to whack out the aussie cook book mama piastri got me for christmas and man this fish has a cool name. BARRAMUNDI is a fish very commonly used in aussie cuisine (real ones know it from masterchef australia). so here i've pan seared it with some herbs and some lemons and take it from me it SLAPS, but you know what i hope slaps more? oscar this weekend... LET'S GO BABY

[as always this recipe is on my website and will be in my 2024 f1 calendar recipe book coming out soon]

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user1: FAVES OMG PARENTS

user2: my favourite thing is where i read intently all of y/n's recipe and continue to make pot noodles

yourusername: pot noodles are good i can't even be mad

oscarpiastri: can confirm it did in fact SLAP

yourusername: oh wow piastri stamp of approval that's basically a michelin star

oscarpiastri: tbf i would eat a roll of paper towels if it was you who gave it to me

yourusername: okay.... I'LL TAKE IT

user3: can we please study these people cause why is saying you'd eat paper towels is the pinnacle of romance

user4: i NEED the recipe book STAT

landonorris: i was on board with this whole cooking thing but FISH IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE

yourusername: oh boy we got a BABY ON THE LINE

landonorris: i'm allowed to like what i like my MUM said so

yourusername: bro is an elite athlete and exclusively eats chicken nuggies

landonorris: @oscarpiastri tell your girlfriend to stop bullying me

oscarpiastri: i'm on her side buddy maybe explore the culinary world

landonorris: that's it i'm going to HR

yourusername: try it girly the mclaren HR team LOVE my food

user5: the dynamics since oscar and y/n got comfortable in the sport are my favourite things

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: first time on the podium at my home race and the feeling is unreal. so thankful to have my family and love of my life around me, lets keep building on this !!

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user7: THANK THE LORD MCLAREN KEPT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER IN 2024 OSCAR FIRST WIN COMING IN FAST

yourusername: I AM TOTALLY FINE ABOUT THIS AND I AM NOT SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY BECAUSE I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU AT ALL TIMES I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO SO MUCH AND I LOVE SHARING THIS WITH YOU AND SEEING THE WORLD WITH YOU AND REACHING OUR DREAMS TOGETHER

user8: are they good?

logansargeant: from the man currently waiting for them to go to dinner and can hear them yelling this stuff to each other... no they are not okay and i don't think they ever have been

yourusername: LOGIE BEAR I AM SORRY I CANNOT CONTAIN MY LOVE FOR OSCAR

oscarpiastri: jealous bitches gonna be bitter

logansargeant: ??? excuse me

oscarpiastri: i'm sorry i got excited... love you logan (just not as much as y/n)

user9: this comment section is once again making me want to sneak into an F1 after party :(

user10: they're just going to dinner they've not even started drinking yet 😭

landonorris: i am proud of you mate - why is y/n dancing around in the kitchen in an apron that says "this chef FUCKS"

yourusername: fashion. (it says oscar piastri in small print right under that)

landonorris: i didn't need to know that

oscarpiastri: let her dance it makes the food taste even better

landonorris: there's definitely no fish right?

yourusername: no fish by order of the fussy child

landonorris: bullying online and in person @maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc @logansargeant STEP IN

maxverstappen1: eh i'm good i'm looking forward to dinner

charles_leclerc: you're on your own with this one lando

logansargeant: i've learnt not to cross y/n

user11: the piastris invited lando, logan and the rest of the podium? i am soft

yourusername

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yourusername: a big post podium celebration dinner at the piastri house to celebrate oscar's home podium. first off, super duper proud. second, since it was a strictly no fish evening, i decided to go for classic aussie meat pies and grilled kangaroo LOL but there was only clean plates at the end so i'll defo consider adding it to the recipe book

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user12: i am getting a sugar rush this is so sweet

logansargeant: thank you for having me, a solid 9/10 - one point docked because kangaroos are cute

yourusername: wait until you run into one on a cold, wet evening

oscarpiastri: they are actually very scary and have a stealing problem

yourusername: tbf i think we all have a stealing problem

oscarpiastri: you definietly do ... cause you stole my heart

logansargeant: EW NOT ON MY COMMENT THREAD

user13: i'm so lonely

maxverstappen1: i definitely did not think i was going to eat kangaroo this week but here we are

yourusername: did you like it?

maxverstappen1: i was shocked at how much i did

oscarpiastri: babe get that on the review cover of the recipe book this guy got three championships that has to mean something

yourusername: good idea i'm on it

maxverstappen1: ???

landonorris: you fed me kanga and roo from winnie the pooh? Y/N YOU FED ME KANGA AND ROO FROM WINNIE THE POOH?

yourusername: you eat chicken all the time and you don't feel sorry for chicken little

oscarpiastri: she ate you up there PUN INTENDED

landonorris: i've learnt my lesson i'm giving up here

charles_leclerc: i for one had a blast and will be asking for y/n to cater my birthday party

oscarpiastri: FOR A PRICE

charles_leclerc: you her guard dog or something?

oscarpiastri: duh? have you seen her?

yourusername: i would love to (idk monagasque cuisine though so give me notice)

yourusername

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tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant

yourusername: IMOLA, IMOLA MY HEART LIVES IN ITALIA AND MY STOMACH LIVES WITH ITALIAN FOOD. for real. the track is cute and whatnot but the real star is the pasta, the pizza, the gelato but most importantly the PASTA. here is two dishes that'll feature in the imola chapter: a burrata dish and a ragu !! oscar (and lando) certified so you know it's good, oscar even helped so it's defo beginner friendly!!

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user17: is it a collective f1 driver experience to be ass at cooking

danielricciardo: yes

maxverstappen1: yes

oscarpiastri: yes

landonorris: yes

charles_leclerc: YES

oscarpiastri: if i'm slow this weekend it's because i couldn't stop eating the ragu sorry mclaren

yourusername: i made sure no gelato until sunday so please don't take me out back and shoot me over giving him pasta

mclarenf1: bring some pasta for social media admin and no one has to know

yourusername: deal

landonorris: this is a public instagram comment section

charles_leclerc: why is mine always so darn crunchy

yourusername: inpatient, common amongst you drivers. oscar was once so impatient when boiling an egg he got it out and it was just watery egg

oscarpiastri: you said you wouldn't tell anyone :(

yourusername: no babe i'm proud !!! you've come so far

oscarpiastri: it's true i made my own omelette the other day :)

yourusername: and it was yummy

oscarpiastri: and it was yummy :)

user18: the positive affirmations in this relationship really keep me going

yourusername: he IS the MOST beautiful racer in all of the lands

oscarpiastri: she IS the PRETTIEST chef in all of the kitchens

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted in spain, but we're still in good spirits and in the conversation at the top of the standings! also helps that when you get taken out of the race your girlfriend shovels the BEST paella ever into your mouth until you finally smile

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user19: bro got a girlfriend and personal chef all in one

yourusername: food is my love language and when babe gets twatted into the barriers by SOMEONE i will personally feed him some of his favourite food

user20: she's holding back

yourusername: PR said i couldn't say anything...

oscarpiastri: i love youuuuuuuuu and i love your paella i think it's laced with crack

logansargeant: @fia GET HIS ASS

yourusername: LOGIE BEAR?

logansargeant: i'm sorry, we're pretty desperate for the p7 here at williams

yourusername: i respect that

oscarpiastri: Y/N????

yourusername: MORE PAELLA

carlossainz55: big respect for the paella, definitely looks authentic

yourusername: OBVIOUSLY IT'S AUTHENTIC DO YOU THINK MY QUALIFICATIONS ARE A JOKE

yourusername: lol sorry thank you actually SPANISH F1 DRIVER APPROVED PAELLA

oscarpiastri: @fernandoalo_oficial can we get another good review please and thank you

fernandoalo_oficial: looks good, need a taste to be sure

yourusername: it's coming your way (please return the tupperware tho please)

mclarenf1: you'll come back stronger oscar 💪

oscarpiastri: fuelled by love and paella

yourusername: fuelled by VENOM AND THE WILL TO WIN AND CRUSH THE COMPETITION

oscarpiastri: and that 🫶

note: here's a short and sweet one that MAY return to finish out this fictional season ... i also just love this kind of set up for an imagine. it's a lil short i know but the CHRISTMAS CRAFTS ARE COMING IN FAST AND THE CROSS STITCH CHRISTMAS CARDS ARE SLAYING THE HOUSE DOWN

[ellecdc]

i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃

idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.

now i bid you good day my lady 🫡

I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for

poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat

Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.

“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.

“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.

“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”

Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”

The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.

Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.

The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.

“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 

“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 

“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.

“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”

Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.

“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.

“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 

“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”

It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”

They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”

Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 

And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.

You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”

Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 

“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 

You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.

“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 

“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”

“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”

“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 

Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 

Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”

You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.

“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.

“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.

[honeychamomile1]

Boards And Strings

JJ Maybank x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader takes peace with JJ while she tunes her strings and he cleans his board.

Warnings: Just fluff because I’m obsessed with it.

Note: This is my first story ever with JJ on this blog because I made a second one so this is blog is fresh as a daisy. Hope you like it though! (Also I didn’t watch the show so any mistakes I make I deeply apologize but I rarely mention plot points)

First blog: @marypaol (I write for Harry Potter!)

The instrument was in her hands, gentle and delicate for her mind as she twisted the tuners on the top, once in a while plucking the strings, the note ringing out into the air.

Her opinion of it would vary, for sometimes she took satisfaction to it or she would simply shake her head, tightening or loosening based on her desires. The string would be looser or tighter in accordance with her actions. The ukulele would listen to her every word, even the most delicate change would completely alter the perspective of the note in the air, picking it up in the wind and almost forcing everyone to hear what it had to say.

She always liked music, listening or making, it didn’t matter, for whichever one was the same to her. Music was music, and notes were notes.

The dirty blonde in front of the garage didn’t take a mind to the noise, for normally it annoy an every-day person, a note ringing out before a pause is heard, not long enough until another note sprang out. He always heard her playing, and it pretty much the opposite of annoyed him. It in fact made him calm, a sense in his chest growing every time he heard her fingers touch those strings. He loved it when she played, and simply hearing the process of the instrument sounding good was something he was more than content to watch unfold.

His hands though burned, scraping the wax off the surface with great effort. The huge board was propped up on two wooden chairs he found in the garage, him sitting in his own as he leaned over it, his back starting to form a tension that wasn’t very comfortable. The hat on his head was protecting his forehead form the morning sun, yet after a while he could feel the heat seeping into the fabric and onto his hair, and he just knew he might get sunburn on his head beneath his strands if he took it off, so he dealt with the rays.

“JJ?” He heard a gentle voice, and, looking up from crumbled up wax on his board, got to see a much better view. The girl sat on a chair, bare tanned legs curled up and leaning on the table in front of her. She wore light ripped jean shorts, a nice sun shirt covering her figure. On her toned arms she wore knitted bracelets, ones she’s made herself. She had her eyebrows knitted together, confusion pouring over her features. Her nose in fact displayed the so said confusion, twitching every couple seconds so much so that it made the Maybank boy stare for a couple seconds longer than he should have.

“Yes, Princess?” He said, using the nickname he always used around her. Her lips quirked at the corners, him loving the sight before she used her fingers to pluck a string.

“Does this sound off?” She asked, uncertainly curling around her features. He listened to her play it again. He shook his head eventually, knowing how her songs sounded and the note was right as ever, his ears knowing that sound better than any other.

“Not at all, sweetness. Sounds as perfect as always.” He assured, looking down at the wax again, picking up his tool and continuing to scrape at the substance.

He didn’t hear her get up, and it wasn’t until he felt the fabric on his head being lifted up, his locks that were held together now flowing freely once they’re wasn’t any blockage that he noticed she had came over to him. His blonde strands practically glowed in the sun’s rays, and he could already feel the heat burning his head. He looked up at the disturbance, but quickly decided it wasn’t a disturbance anymore, since it was her standing over him, her hand holding his hat and transferring it to her own locks, setting it in her head swiftly.

Her eyes locked with his over the cap, the fabric on it lightly tearing from its constant use.

“What do you think you’re doing?” JJ teased gently, lips quirking up lightly.

She grinned right back at him, adjusting the cap on her head, the strings from her bracelets wagging from the movement. “What does it look like? I’m stealing your hat.”

JJ clicked his tongue and shook his head softly, mouth still slightly open as he looked at her. He then put on a fake man voice, acting like he had higher authority than her. “Well, sorry, Ma’am, but stealing is illegal.”

She grinned at his joke, instantly deciding to play along. “Really? Well I apologize, sir.”

She fluttered her eyelashes teasingly, trying to win the so-called cop over. JJ smirked.

“Beauty isn’t gonna free you, honey.” He informed, and saw her bottom lip come out, pink mouth pouting.

“Does this mean I’m arrested?” She tested, eyebrow raising in question. JJ grinned, standing up, coming closer to her.

“It means that you are going to get punished.” He answered. Her pout deepened but he saw her eyes glistening with curiosity, wondering what his next move was.

“And what exactly is my punishment?” She said, eyes more leaving his.

JJ had a smirk on his face, coming closer to her than before. It clicks in her brain at that moment, widening her eyes. She backs away slightly. “J…”

He laughs, tackling her body and digging his fingers into her sides, a squeal coming out of her mouth. She giggles as he tickles her, both their bodies slamming into the grassy ground, him on top, limbs everywhere as her lungs burned form not being able to breath without laughing. The cap loosed on her hair, the front of it covering part of her forehead.

“JJ!” She managed to exclaim, hands on his wrists as an attempt to stop his fingers from tickling her skin. She was able to get her fingers close to his, trying to pry them off when she felt the waxy substance coating his skin.

“JJ, ew your hands are gross.” She laughed, now managing to take his hands off her, and he was smirking the whole time he was wiping his hands off on the grass.

He then leaned forward, making eye contact with her, hair sprawled out on the grass and skin tanned. He reached for for the hat on her head, and for a couple seconds she thought he was gonna take it back, but instead he fixed it, gently lifting her head with his hand on the back of her neck, making sure the cap can fit better.

She smiled at him, him at her as their noses touched, brushing skin against skin as she breathed in his scent.

“I don’t think the police should be handling me like this…” she murmured and wrapping her fingers around the collar of is worn out T-shirt, smiling wider as his mouth brushed hers, being able to feel the muscles in his lips.

“I don’t think so either.” JJ whispered, breath hitting her mouth before connecting their lips, intaking a soft breath.

Her hands went to his neck, keeping him close as their mouths moved together. He tasted like fruits and beer, along with something that wouldn’t be any one else except him. He thought she tasted like honey chamomile and something else sweet.

They slowly separated for air, breathing slightly hard against each other’s mouths. JJ breathed out, digging his face into her neck, pressing his lips to the skin there, making her light out a soft sighs at the action.

“JJ…” she whispered as a form of protest but didn’t make an effort to take his head away, instead holding it there with her hands, stroking the hair strands that seemed to be getting blonder by the day.

He hummed in response, waiting to see what she had to say. She didn’t answer right away, though, sighing more frequently as he continued to kiss wherever he could get to.

“W-we shouldn’t do this right here.” She managed out, his teeth brushing the skin before backing away, gorgeous eyes meeting hers.

“Why not, Princess?” He questioned, practically whining because he had to stop. She laughed a little before replying.

“Because someone could see us.”

JJ scoffed, pecking her lips a couple times before going back to her neck, hand going under her shirt to rub her stomach. She sighed into the feeling, almost overwhelmed by his scent and body heat.

“Let them watch, they deserve to know that you’re mine.”

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy! 🫶🏻

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

As we are now (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you explore your husband’s new form, and it leads to you breaching a rather delicate subject

Warnings: evil!reader, smut, oral (Sauron receiving, he gets rough but reader is completely on board with it), p in v, dom!Sauron but it’s kind of back and forth, reader and Sauron being deep in denial about their desire for a bit of normalcy

Note: part of the evil!reader collection. If you’re new, reader has been married to Sauron since before Adar’s betrayal and infiltrated herself as a smith of Eregion, where she awaited her husband’s return.

Mature content below the cut - minors DNI!!!

You burst into delighted laughter the moment you are in the privacy of your own chamber. The light, the smoke, the speech, the look—be still your black little heart and your poor loins, the look.

It was a good thing you had worked as closely as you did with Celebrimbor and so-called Halbrand before your husband had been forced to leave Eregion, for the Elven Rings were in great part your achievement as well, and so Celebrimbor had deemed that you had just as much right to learn what had become of them upon Halbrand’s return. It was also a good thing you were standing behind Celebrimbor, and that he was entirely enraptured with your husband’s divine appearance as ‘Annatar’ made his grand entrance, because the hand with which you had covered your grin could hardly conceal the shameless glee in your eyes.

To see his deceit at work is always a joy. But even greater is the delight of knowing he shall join you in your chamber shortly, just as soon as he is finished entertaining the awe-struck Celebrimbor for the night. You stand at your window, hoping your wait will not be long. You haven’t had the chance to be alone with your husband since he had returned to Eregion, and somehow the last moments before the promise of reunion always feel like the longest.

He moves within the shadows, as quietly as them. You do not need to hear the opening and closing or your door, or even the steps approaching you, to know that he is there, even before arms snake around your waist from behind and lips press to your neck. You chuckle, leaning into your husband.

“A messenger of the Valar. A being of pure light, sent to unlock his grandest abilities.” You turn around in his arms, and wrap yours around his neck, grinning. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Celebrimbor quite so close to spending in his breeches before.”

“How crudely you speak of your dear friend,” your husband pretends to admonish, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Can you fault a poor Elf for falling to his knees in the face of his greatest desires coming true?”

“Fault him? Of course not.” You lower your voice to a sensual purr, leaning in so that your breath warms his lips as you speak. “In fact, if I were him, I’d have done far more than kneel.” You shrug. “Or tried, at the very least. Surely, an emissary of the Valar is above such worldly temptations.”

His lips are only a moment too slow to catch your teasing ones. You nimbly slip from his hold and walk past him—to no destination whatsoever, for you know you are to be caught nearly at once and relish the short anticipation. You still give a small yelp when he catches your wrist and spins you around, pulling you flush against him. There’s hunger in his eyes, and playfulness, as he secures your waist into a hold not so easily escapable as the last.

“Not even the Maker himself is above admiring true beauty,” he says, lifting your chin with a gentle knuckle as his thumb brushes your bottom lip. “And you, my lady, are the most exquisite of his creations.”

He can pay you a thousand compliments, and you would still swoon each and every time. On the inside, at the very least, for at the moment you simply remove his hand from your mouth.

“Is that all you wish? To admire me?” you tease still, ignoring the impatient tick in your husband’s jaw. “It would be such a pity if the Lord of Gifts did not receive some form of gratitude in return for the blessings he carries. Does one as pure as you even know of what I speak?”

You hold his gaze as you catch the tip of his thumb between your teeth, giving the pad the lightest lick. Your husband’s throat bobs as he watches.

“Do enlighten me,” he rasps out.

And you fully intend to. His lips are so plump and tempting, close enough that you can all but taste them. You haven’t kissed your husband since before he left for Adar’s camp in Mordor, an obscenely long amount of time already.

“With pleasure,” you whisper—close, so close to giving you both the meeting of lips you so crave...

Not quite.

You push his chest, just enough for him to let you take a step backward with a frustrated little breath. His eyes hold a glint of warning, hunger that might just surface to end your little game if you push it a smidge too far over the edge. But in the end, you like to play, and he likes to indulge you. And it isn’t as though you are dallying about as you slide his outer robe off his shoulders and down his arms. In fact, you are quite unceremoniously hasty, and so your husband straightens his arms by his sides, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a graceless heap around his feet.

Now, for the grey robe beneath, covering him from neck to ankle, humbly adorned with only a simple pattern along the collar... you could, in theory, remove it the old-fashioned way. But you don’t feel particularly inclined to go through the hassle of lifting all that material over his head, and something wild is stirring in your chest, and it’s in your nature, after all, to do things just because.

You produce a dagger from a concealed pocket of your dress, grab your husband’s collar, hook the blade into it and rip! goes the dull fabric with a yank of your hand. Down to his waist the destruction continues, tear after tear as you pull the material away from his body so as not to nick the skin you so greedily reveal with the slashes of your blade.

He does not flinch once, save for a coy lift at the corner of his lips as you toss away the dagger and relieve him of the ruined garb, adding it to the pile of crumpled fabric on the floor. You pay it no more mind than you do his now bare torso, determined to admire him in all his splendor when you finally take him in, head to toe.

“You speak of giving something in return,” he remarks quite casually as your hands next reach straight for the fastenings of his trousers, “yet all you seem to do is take—the very clothes off my back, no less.”

You smirk up at him. “Well, I should like to lay my eyes upon the gift for which I am to repay you first.”

You pull his trousers down in one quick move, proudly stripping him of the last shred of divine decency with which he had clad himself for Celebrimbor’s benefit. He cooperates smoothly as you crouch to yank the pants off his legs one by one, then toss his modest footwear to the side as well, and when you rise back to your full height, your husband stands before you with not a stitch on him.

The most skilled of Elven artists could not capture the exquisite painting which graces your roving eyes. ‘Perfect’ doesn’t begin to describe him—not that you ever regard him as anything less. But in this specific form, he is the very picture of Elven beauty and grace, likely to enchant the eye of most, if not all beings of your kind.

He is much smoother than Halbrand was. The hair on his body is less evident, as light in color as the blond tresses framing his face and not as coarse to the touch, you determine whilst trailing your fingers down his arm, shoulder to wrist. He is no doubt appealing, but you had been quite fond of the dark smattering of hair on Halbrand’s chest, and will surely miss the equally dark trail leading the tantalizing way between his navel and cock.

Speaking of which—that part of him is as glorious as ever, and already quite visibly eager. It would require but a graze of your fingers to grow into his full hardness. But you purposefully avoid that particular bit of enticing flesh as your fingers next trace a delicate line up his thigh, taking a detour along his hip instead. You let your nails scrape his skin ever so slightly as they venture higher, feeling his firm abdomen twitch faintly beneath your touch. He is sculpted with perfect balance, the lines of his muscles painting a stunning picture of bodily strength without too dramatic of a bulk, still allowing for elegance. Your fingers ascend to his chest, traveling across its alluring plane, and come to graze one nipple, earning a hitch in your husband’s breath. Otherwise, he stands perfectly still, subjecting himself to your quiet exploration.

You circle him slowly, your touch uninterrupted as your fingers trace his skin on a path to his shoulder blades. In the meantime, you release his newly long hair from the silver headpiece he had given himself, letting it fall onto the heap of clothes on the floor. You come to a halt facing his back, as beautifully muscled as the front, and—for the love of the Valar you have forsaken, there is nothing objectively different about the shape of his buttocks, but you swear they have grown even more enticing than before. You give one an appreciative caress, fingers following the plump curve of flesh between his upper thigh and lower back, before giving it a most satisfying squeeze.

Your husband releases a short huff of a chuckle. You press yourself against him, still groping his behind as you brush his hair over his shoulder to press a kiss to the top of his spine.

“I find myself in quite the predicament, I’m afraid,” you murmur into his skin. “So exquisite is the gift, I cannot imagine how I am to pay in kind.”

“A gift, by definition, is not paid,” your husband says, giving you a pointed look over his shoulder. “But you may begin by putting an end to this teasing.”

You grin, giving his behind a sharp pinch with just a bit of nail scratch. That finally earns you an undignified gasp from his throat, followed by a scolding tsk as you turn him around by the shoulders.

“I am merely beholding your ‘natural form’, my lord,” you mock Celebrimbor’s earlier words, caressing your husband’s face and chest as you meet his scalding gaze with your sensuous one. “So I may know how best to worship it.”

You all but lunge forward to catch his lips, finally, after the wait of separation as well as your self-imposed delay—

A large hand clamps around your neck. It is your husband, now, who keeps you at bay, lips hovering one tantalizing inch above yours as he grouses, “I believe you mentioned something about kneeling.”

He pushes down on your shoulders with just enough force that you gasp as your knees bend, dropping to the floor at once. He might as well have reached down your throat and ripped the breath from your lungs with his fingers. You look up at your husband, standing above you in all his glory, the light of candles catching in his fair tresses in an ethereal halo. Yet most disarming are the pitch black depths of his eyes, trained onto you with devastating intensity.

“Well, my lady?” His tongue curls around the respectful title in such a way, it somehow sounds degrading. He tilts your chin even further back with a firm knuckle. “How is it that you worship your gods?”

You swallow nothing at all, eyelids fluttering as you stare upwards like a believer at prayer. He does this sometimes, playing along until he doesn’t, flipping the tables and taking charge in the blink of an eye. It almost feels like a physical stroke of your clit, creamy arousal gushing from your core in an instant.

It’s such a slippery slope. The submission. The rawness of it. You’ve both known what it was to be at the mercy of another before, one who had no such thing as mercy. But you do not despair, and you are not afraid. For this is not Morgoth, nor are you a slave. You are free to surrender yourself to him, and few things make you feel so powerful as his craving to be adored by you.

“I have one god, and one alone,” you murmur, holding his gaze as you embrace his legs, clinging to the flesh just below his buttocks and striving to look up despite the angle at which you then bend. “I kneel only to him,” you lay a kiss above one knee, “I worship only at his feet,” then the other.  “I would kill for him,” you kiss him mid-thigh on one leg, “I would die for him,” then the other. “I would live,” you place a kiss right to the side of his cock, “through endless torment,” as well as the other side, “only for him.” You rise on your knees slightly, and press your lips below his navel, pleading with your eyes. For what, it matters not. For anything he might give.

The growl which leaves your husband’s throat is more wild beast than Elf. He takes in his fists your hair and his own hard length, keeping you where he wants as he drags the tip of his cock from the base of your neck to your chin, as though splitting the skin upon the blade of his desire. Arousal smears a trail up your throat. He wants in.

“Show me,” he commands, his tip nudging at your quivering lips. “Show me how you adore me.”

As if you had not already. As if you do not always. But you are beyond glad to remind him. Your tongue darts past your lips to give the slit a sole lick. As he releases his cock to plant his hand onto your shoulder instead, you take hold of his length yourself to flatten it against his stomach. You spare a moment to admire it, so promisingly full and flushed with want, then press your lips to the underside, right at the base, and work your way to the tip with a string of doting kisses. How you love this most sensitive part of him, and cherish each and every twitch with which it responds to your affections.

His hands tense impatiently on your head and shoulder, but he needs not handle you into further action as you finally take his cockhead in your mouth, sucking gently. Then firmly, and over again, until you’re truly fucking him with your mouth, your hand working in tandem to cover the length you cannot swallow with each bob of your head.

The crease in his brow betrays his pleasure, though he stands above you tall and stoic as ever. Even when you swirl your tongue around his tip the way you know drives him wild, even when you reach underneath to fondle the sensitive sack at the base of his manhood. You wish he would reward your efforts with the groans and gasps you know he keeps lodged within his throat. You want to rip them out with your teeth, if need be. And so you take him deep, as deep as he can go inside your throat, all while piercing him with your wanton gaze.

Your husband curses. His fist in your hair tightens, tugs at the roots with just enough force that it stings most deliciously. Control is ripped from you once more as he drives his cock into your throat at his own merciless pace, and if you could, you would smile at your victory in breaking his composure. You grab hold of his buttocks, nails digging into the soft flesh as he buries himself in your mouth, over and over. You’ve gathered more than enough skill over your years together to withstand such an act whilst still drawing some air into your lungs, even if only the barest minimum. Still, a tear slides down your cheek, and you groan around his length, knowing the sound will only add to his pleasure.

“Such beauty,” he muses gruffly, catching your tear with a gentle thumb even as he keeps thrusting. “Such ruin.”

His mind nudges at yours, such a stark contrast between the immaterial caress and his ruthless handling of you. The answer he seeks is written in your eyes, your mind, the same message ringing out over and over from every corner of your being: Grip me, keep me, ruin me. Spill in my mouth. Fill it with your taste. Give me everything.

The enormity of your need for his pleasure is what does him in. He doesn’t stifle, doesn’t deny you the sound of his wrecked groan as he ceases upon a final thrust, cock shoved so deep down your throat that your nose is buried in the fair curls at his base. You shut your eyes as he spills and spills, relishing the throbbing of his flesh on your tongue and the essence of him gliding down your throat. Breathing can wait. Not forever, but for a while.

Your husband, of course, allows it long before you’d have truly struggled. But you still pant for breath the moment he pulls out, and your forehead drops to his thigh as you wipe the mess left on your chin. Not a moment later, your husband tilts your head back, demanding your misty eyes to meet his.

“My love,” he breathes out, the lust in his gaze having melted into something akin to awe. “Oh, my love. How desperately you crave my pleasure.” His chest begins to heave, eyes growing feral with fresh hunger. “As I crave yours.”

He bends down, grabs your waist and hoists you from the ground straight into his arms, at last claiming your lips as you wrap your legs around him with an elated moan. It is as though his end did nothing but spur him into wishing for another, this time whilst buried in your depths. Barely a moment later, he lays you down on your bed, his bare body pressing your clothed one into the mattress. His hips are already nestled between your legs, grinding relentlessly as you write and whine beneath his ravenous kisses of your mouth, then of any bare inch he finds of your neck and chest.

He fists his hands in the shoulders of your dress, and he needs no blade to rip the fabric down your chest unceremoniously. You gasp, mildly indignated—you had been rather fond of that piece. But the sacrifice is well worth it for the unbridled desire on his face as he admires your bare breasts, as though it were his first time seeing them. “This is all I could think of,” he rasps out, “whilst I stood waiting at the gate. What I would do once I could finally touch my wife’s skin, her flesh...” He kneads one breast, staring in marvel as that wonderfully pliant part of you yields beneath his fingers, “This lovely, soft flesh of yours. Look how it calls to me.”

His thumb swipes over one pebbled nipple, indeed straining upward as though reaching for your husband’s touch, just before he descends upon it with the heat of his mouth.

“Yes,” you moan, arching into him greedily. “But my flesh has remained unchanged... for centuries,” you strive to argue as his tongue lavishes that most sensitive peak, teeth tugging in a mean tease at the flesh around it. “Tonight,” you gather your resolve, “I was supposed... to be exploring... you!”

With a great push on that last word, you flip him onto his back. Your husband lets loose a wicked laugh as his head hits the pillow and you roll on top of him, panting.

“It is hardly my fault that you are so easily distracted.” He grins up at you without an ounce of shame. Oh, the audacious little arse of a Maia (whom you would not have any other way).

“As if you are any better,” you retort, and swiftly prove yourself right. You dive much like a vulture aiming to snatch its prey, one hand sinking in his hair as you catch the brand new pointed tip of his ear between your teeth and tug, hard. Your husband gives a sharp grunt, hands flying to grip your hips.

“Hm, I’ve missed these,” you say, suckling at the tender skin as if to soothe the sting you purposely inflicted whilst your husband groans beneath you. “Remember when I made you spill simply from biting them?”

“A most admirable feat,” he growls, “for which I have not the patience at the moment.”

He means to lift his torso off the bed, but you hold him down with a firm hand pressed to his chest. “Ah-ah,” you shake your head, slowly rising to sit up astride him. “I wish to stay right here,” you say, gathering the skirts of your dress pooling over his crotch to help yourself to his newly straining erection, “and admire the view.”

And what a wonderous view indeed. From here, he is laid out below you like a grand feast, offering to the pleasure of your eye every little twitch of the muscles in his neck and abdomen as you give his length a few preparatory pumps. His hair is splayed out on your pillow in fair waves, like the halo of the divine being he now claims to be. You can nearly see why Morgoth had so wished to corrupt him, when he truly was a being of pure light. Though in Morgoth’s place, you would never have been so foolish as to fail in cherishing Mairon’s loyalty like the most precious gift that it was. In Morgoth’s place, you’d have punished your beloved servant with nothing but the most wicked of pleasures, and rewarded his terrible feats in your name with a throne beside yours and a crown placed upon his splendid head.

“Admire?” your husband raises a coy eyebrow, even as he throbs in your fist. “I thought you wished to reward me for my generosity,” he reminds you of the little game you had been playing at the beginning. You are no mighty Vala who can offer him everything he has ever craved on a silver platter, but you need not be, when you are what he needs most desperately.

“What better reward than this?” you smile, and sink onto his length in one swift move, pulling a moan from yourself and a brisk curse in Black Speech from him. Having engulfed him to the hilt, you plant your hands onto his chest, savoring the divine stretch. 

“How does it fit, my love?” your husband asks, thrusting up ever so slightly.

“It’s perfect,” you moan. “So... so perfect.” As always, but you can’t deny you’ve landed at an angle which hits especially right, even before you’re begun to truly ride him.

“Good.” Your husband’s smile drips with pride. “I made it for you.”

It takes a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. He has made this form, having fully recovered his ability to deliberately choose the shape and size of each part of himself, and—

“Oh,” you let out, your face crumpling with adoration as you melt on the inside. “You’ve gone through such trouble…”

You say it with false modesty, though this is barely a fraction of the lengths to which he had gone for you in the past, as well as barely a necessity. Even a shaft as inauspicious as the handle of a hammer could become an instrument of your pleasure in your husband’s hands, if it were wielded with his incomparable skill and intimate knowledge of your flesh. But whilst form alone is not everything, there is such a thing as a more or less natural fit for any given body. And this particular appendage with which your husband has endowed himself… the length and girth, every vein, every ridge, is specifically tailored to suit your needs. To stretch you perfectly, just on the right side of the light burn he knows you relish without causing you real pain, to rub and press exquisitely against your walls in all the sweetest ways and spots he knows by heart that you would most enjoy.

“No trouble at all, my love,” he says, hands roaming over your thighs. “I made each part of myself to suit my purpose. I desire no offspring, and have no bodily needs apart from those awakened by my wife. So, you see, the sole purpose of my cock... is to pleasure you. Us.” He brings your hand to his lips, the kiss he presses to your knuckles as reverent as though he were greeting you in the midst of an elegant ballroom rather than naked in your bed, buried inside you to the hilt. “I worship only at the feet of my goddess as well.”

He says it like a vow. This time, when he rises from the mattress to gather you close, closer, you make not the slightest move to stop him—distracted again. But you are beyond caring. Beyond teasing games. There is no slow seduction, no calculated rhythm to the manner in which you begin to move, hips rolling frantically into your husband’s.

“Yes, my love,” he urges fervently. “Take what you need.”

As you do, he makes quick work to relieve you of the remnants of your dress, jaw clenched as your heat swallows him over and again in its velvety depths. He pulls and tears at the fabric, throws it away as if it were standing between him and the healing of Middle-Earth itself, and his wife is at last bared atop him, bouncing prettily on his cock.

“Nothing beneath,” he remarks, a most delicious reprimand as he gropes at your waist, urging you in your movements. “Is such the custom among the ladies of Eregion these days?”

A short laugh finds its way through the string of gasps and moans that leave your throat. “I’ve not worn undergarments since you arrived at the gate.”

“Of course not,” he purrs, the twisted pride in his gaze going straight to the onslaught of pleasure already between your legs. “My beautiful wife, waiting for me with open arms and a bare cunt. Soaked the moment you laid eyes upon me, were you not?”

All the answer he gets is a pitiful whine, and your lips sloppily catching his in a needy kiss. Seated in his lap, with your arm wrapped around his shoulders and your hand sunk into his hair, you are in control over the pace of your thrusts as well as utterly helpless with adoration. He holds you in the circle of his arms so fiercely, tears gather at the corner of your eyes as you pull away to take in your beloved’s expression. His beautiful lips, slightly parted in pleasure. His eyes, darkened to near slits with unbridled desire for you. Only for you.

“I love you,” you all but sob, your hips clashing into his so ruthlessly, you would fear for the anatomy of any lesser being of male form subjected to such treatment. Your mind is as frantic as the tempest in your core, on the verge of unraveling. “I love you, I love you so much—”

“All the heart I have left is yours,” he says in a ragged breath, nails digging into your shoulderblades. “Yours, always yours.”

If that wasn’t enough, the heat of his seed filling you to the brim does you in. Your peak has you clenching around your husband’s throbbing cock as though you mean to cage him within you for the rest of all time, and what a tempting prospect that is.

You slack against him, breathing heavily into his neck. Incoherent fragments of endearments leave your lips, but not even you can tell what you are saying. Your husband cradles your head, shushing you softly through the aftershocks of your release, and lies back against the pillows with you securely in his arms. You hum tiredly as he pulls out, and use the little strength left in your limbs to shift downward so that you may rest your head on your husband’s chest. He needs no heartbeat, but it soothes you to feel it beneath your cheek, strong and slowly settling down after the wonderful exertion through which you had put his form.

“I take it, then,” he says into the blissful silence that has fallen between you, “that my new visage is to your liking.”

You give a soft, tired laugh. Lifting yourself enough that you can gaze down at your husband’s face, you cup his cheek with an adoring smile.

“I liked you rough around the edges, imperfectly human,” you murmur, fingertips grazing the fine lines at the corner of his eye. “I like you smooth and pristine, descended from a great cloud of golden light. I like this face as well as any other, so long as I am looking in my beloved’s eyes.” You press a short kiss to his smiling lips. “It does not hurt, of course, that he tends to be unbearably fair.”

A small chuckle rumbles from his chest to yours. “I do try. But I admit I wonder,” he goes on, growing thoughtful, “now that I am able to change at will once more... whether you would prefer me as I was.”

His question gives you pause, your brow knitting slightly. He does not find such a prospect hurtful, you feel, but he is rather curious to know the answer.

“Would you prefer me as I was?” you ask in turn. “If I were... changed somehow, as you have been?”

His eyes caress your face as his knuckles graze your cheekbone, deeply tender. “I cannot say I would not mourn, if only for a while, the exact arrangement of lines and curves which shaped your form when I first held you in my arms,” he confesses, soft-spoken. “But I would prefer my beloved as she wishes to be.”

Many times, he has been loving to you, but there is a particular flavour to the moments when he is so plainly… sweet. His words move you in a way that makes you feel oddly fragile, sending your heart aflutter as only a being much younger and less scarred than you might be able to feel. You lay your head on your husband’s chest, closing your eyes to savour the sentiment. Yet, as his fingers graze your skin in loving patterns, a trace of old sorrow creeps into your heart. How lucky you are to be lying in your husband’s arms, discussing whether you would prefer one face over another, when you had once wondered how many Ages would have to pass before you could finally be at each other’s side once more.

“I was ill,” you murmur suddenly, cheek still pressed to his heart. “When they took you. For a long time. Ill of mind. As though part of it had shattered and the splinters kept shredding at what little was left of it. I began to... slip, between reality and waking dreams that felt so real, I could no longer tell the difference. At times, I was grateful for it. Because in the ruins of my mind, you had returned to me with a crown upon your head, and you took me in your arms and I was whole again, if only until the fiction fell apart and left me even more bereft than I had been before. Sometimes, I fell into memories, reliving Morgoth’s torments as though they had never ended, but even within those I longed to remain forever. For there, you were with me, and no pain could compare to that of being without you. But once... once, I lived not the past I craved, nor the one that had come to pass. I was... someone else. Someone I had been before Morgoth. And so were you. In fact... there had never been a Morgoth.”

The hand with which your husband was caressing your hair comes to a hesitant halt. You feel him tense, in body and in mind, feel his disquiet upon hearing such words. But he remains silent, and allows you to gather his hand in your own.

“It came to me in glimpses, moments over time, strung together into one story,” your voice is soft in a foreign way as you begin the tale, your fingers idly playing with his before your far away eyes. “What I first felt was light—the light of the Trees, warm upon my face. The skies of Valinor, clear abovehead, the soft grass grazing my bare feet where I sat by the creek. I was… singing. A song of my own making which I cannot remember, and which I am not sure I ever truly knew. But it was cut short, for I was startled by a sudden presence. Rising in haste to my feet, I turned to find the mightiest of the Maiar of Aulë himself standing only a few paces out of reach, his beautiful face awed as well as a touch apologetic. You had not meant to disturb my peace. But so enchanting you had found my voice as you were passing by, you said, that you wished to capture it in one of your creations.

“And so, at your invitation, I began to visit the great forge where the wonders of your mind were brought into being. I was so… shy, I barely dared to address you. But there was such peace in the silences we shared, such ease, that even though we were near perfect strangers, I felt as though we had already spoken every word in the world, and nothing remained to be said of our existence which we had yet to confess to one another most openly.

“You asked me to sing as you shaped metal, as you gave form to wondrous gems. And when I did, you looked at me as though I were the most precious being to have ever breathed in the light of the One. At times, you would forget yourself, and whilst precious materials awaited to be shaped before you, your hands would find mine instead. And they were able to do so with ease, for the more times I joined you in your forge, the closer together we stood.

“But you would not tell me what it was that you meant to craft, shrouding the work of your hands, somehow, from my eyes, even when I looked closely. Only because I let you, though. I knew I could look past the illusion and peek at any moment, but I made a game of it—trying to guess in what manner of adornment you meant to capture my voice. And each time I returned, you would gift me the very jewel I had last guessed, whether wrongly or not. Not the creation you meant to achieve in the end, but lesser ones crafted in my absence, during uninterrupted hours of toil. ‘Lesser’ being but a manner of comparison, for they were the most exquisite I had ever laid eyes upon. But I would have delighted in wearing something as simple as a bracelet made of grassblades, had I known them to have been entwined by your hands.

“On the day your work was finished, my heart was filled with such sorrow thinking our hours together might come to an end. For however plainly our eyes and joined hands had spoken of our feelings, such was my timid nature that I had never dared voice them, and you had never risked bringing offence to my virtue by speaking of yours. Not until you had completed your work, and you finally revealed to me what your end had been from the very beginning. It had not been one jewel you meant to craft, but two. Two splendid rings—neither of power, nor of symbolic importance to any but you and I. With your gifts, you had woven my voice into the gems, and in a way impossible to capture into words, the light reflected upon it shone with the echo of my song. Only then, as you placed one of the pair into my hands, did you confess that you had loved me since the moment you had first heard my voice, and your greatest desire would be for those twin jewels to become the symbols of devotion with which we become wed. Nevertheless, were it not my wish to bind myself to you, the other ring would be mine, to gift, if I should like, to the most fortunate being with whom I would choose to share my soul, whilst you would content yourself to love me from afar, and wish me nothing but the greatest of joy for so long as existence should be. At once I confessed that such a thought was not only absurd, but also too painful to bear—for my heart had been yours since the moment I had laid eyes upon you.

“And so we wed in song and merriment, and we danced under the radiant branches of the Trees, celebrated by your kin and mine alike. We made love in a meadow, soft and slow, and for hours you caressed my skin with petals yielded by a blossom tree in honor of our union. Even that act of passion was somehow so clean. So pure. So...” you search for the right way to describe it, “...wrong.”

It’s as though a spell breaks upon that last, dissonant word. You roll off of your husband, settling onto your side to face him as he does the same. His expression is hard to read, some blend of unease and intrigue in the furrow of his brow.

“For the first time, when the fiction ended, I did not weep,” you tell him, your voice no longer dreamy, but returned to a more familiar fierceness. “For I knew not those beings I had seen. Devoid of purpose, endlessly demure. Light and songs, desire kept secret beneath bashful smiles,” you scoff. “I wanted back the husband that I loved, not some unrecognizable version of him wearing his face. Not some children’s story of infuriating innocence.” With a small shake of your head against the pillow, and a soft, mirthless chuckle, you shift closer into your husband’s arms, both of you adjusting so that you are embracing on your sides. “So, no, my love,” is the answer you ultimately give, “I do not wish for either of us to be anything but what we are, here and now, in body as well as spirit.”

Your husband only hums, deep in thought. He has not said a word since you began to speak, and the longer his silence stretches, the more you begin to wonder whether your confession has displeased him, somehow. Perhaps he does not wish to hear of this romantic scenario your mind had invented, despite its protagonist being but a different version of himself. Or perhaps...

You’ve rarely spoken of what came before. It is a surprise as well as a relief, then, when he does so without seeming too unsettled by the fact that you had alluded to his former self in the first place.

“I was not as you described, indeed,” he murmurs in the end. “Even with my original... disposition, I’d not have hesitated to make my desire known, should I have had any such inclinations towards another. I have always hated a waste of good resources—time is no exception.”

You smile slightly. You know that all too well.

“Nor was I some helpless maiden who shied away from the slightest of amorous attentions,” you assure him. “I doubt it, either way,” you shrug. “I can hardly remember.”

Elven memories do not dim. You do remember what your life before Morgoth was like, but the details of it—the faces, the words spoken, the feelings… those have long been tucked away in a deep corner of your mind, never to be spoken or thought of again. For what use was there to it? That life had been burned away, along with everything you used to be.

“Either way,” you go on, brushing off even the merest thought of that distant past, “it was but a dull fable, conjured by a broken mind. I healed soon after. Reminded myself why I needed to remain sane and strive to do all that I can towards our goal, whether you were to return in a day or a century. Or several,” you add quietly, holding onto your husband just that little bit tighter. His forehead creases with the same deep ache in your chest as he nudges your nose with his.

“Let us not dwell on the past, or things that never were,” he murmurs in his deep, comforting tone. “I am here. And I shall not leave your side again.”

There is still an oddly meditative lilt to his words, a certain sense of wistfulness that does not quite hold the same flavour as the longing you had felt so many times shared between you. But you make no attempt to pry at the sentiment with your mind. Especially as he closes the distance between your lips, kissing you with utmost gentleness.

The kiss deepens, lasts for ages, but remains achingly tender. Utterly disarming. Your legs intertwine, bringing your hips flush together in the tangle. His flesh finds yours, and before long you are joined. There is no power play, no teasing, not even the desperate, nearly pained gasps, wails or groans you so enjoy to wring from one another. Only every inch of him pressed against every inch of you, soft moans melting onto each other’s tongues, the languid pleasure of moving together to an end that envelops you in its warm embrace, leaving you trembling in your husband’s arms and him moaning your name like a most sacred prayer.

In its wake, you are beyond words. All you can do is bury your face in your husband’s chest as he holds you close still, his fingers drawing soft shapes on your skin.

“I’d have made my desire for you known,” he repeats his earlier words in your ear, hushed but fervent, “and I’d never have bowed before Morgoth. For no promise of power could have swayed me to risk your safety. And we’d have stayed servants of the Valar, pure and obedient. It is only as we are now, my love, that we shall be masters of our own fate, and rule above all others.”

You shut your eyes, nuzzle further into his neck, his words sending a shiver through your very soul. This life you have shared is not easy. Not pretty. But in the end, it shall be glorious, better than any other that you might have lived. Truly.

It has to be.

As you drift to sleep, you swear your husband’s caress holds the ghost of a tender petal brushing your skin.

Previous fic with same reader -> As one

Next fic with same reader -> A true gift

[blueberrypancakesworld]

An acidic gentle embrace

Xenomorph x fem!reader

warning : mention of dead, fluff/comfort (as far as this goes with the xenomorph and the film in general), wounds, no use of y/n, the xenomorph is very ooc probably but for a little cute monster you have to sacrifice something

Summary : A short trip it would have been, or so they had thought when they boarded the spaceship just a few minutes ago…and now it was apparently just the four of them on the run from a monster that was out to kill them, or caring?

info : Omg it has stuck with me since i watched the film with a friend anyway have fun with this little something and i was Inspired from THIS post check it out and the blog from @spicybunni :)

ps : The gif is really everything from @crybabyryo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Death nothing but death would await them if they stayed here even a few moments longer. She knew that, Rain knew that and Andy knew that, they knew it from the moment they heard the hissing, the scratching of the black claws and the watery slime that spread across the floor as the mouths reached for them and the acid threatened to dissolve them.

It wasn't a hunt, it was a death sentence when both sides knew that only the lift that stood between them would mean freedom, the ship would turn on and all they had to do was get back to the hangar…while they had to deal with gravity and non-gravity.

Every time the sirens sounded they heard Rain's calls and the weight that came over them seemed to pull them off the ladder, the pull they needed to get closer and faster threatened to pull them straight back into the arms of this being, this acid-bearing being or Xenomorph as Bishop had told them before all hell broke loose.

,,Just a few more metres! Kay's got the ship ready, we can do this!" Rain shouted from above her as she flung her friend a few metres above her to Andy with a sweep of her arm as gravity was switched off, but now this creature was on her tail and maybe it was space, maybe it was her rapid heartbeat or the pain coursing through her body as she felt herself becoming more and more resigned to the fact that she might not get out of here.

It might be okay if she could carve out time for her friends for her family that she never really had except for the last few hours when they all got closer somehow, ,,Just keep going up, don't worry!" she heard her voice reply back almost automatically, the look she cast upwards telling her that Andy's silent backward glance understood, a no need for understanding when they both knew she wasn't going to make it.

Climbing further feeling the weight of the gun on her back she knew it was the last chance and it was okay so it was the right thing to do, ,,Andy! My weapon….now!" she shouted as she hauled it off her back, caught on the ladder and with another shrill sound the gravity switched off again and with a reasonably well-timed throw the android took her weapon out of the air moments later.

She heard Rain's scream and heard Andy's thanks, but her friend's screams soon joined the creature's hiss and she looked down to see the waves coming closer, ,,Come on! You beasts, here I am!" she screamed at the black creature that slithered towards her and she grabbed the small handgun and fired, knowing that she only had this moment, that her last look up showed her that it had worked, that she could at least buy her friends some time.

But the shots all missed, whether it was her trembling hands or her giving up she didn't know, what she did know was that she aimed her last shot at the ladder as gravity threatened to kick in again, ,,Come on make it quick" she hissed and for a moment she flew around the shaft until with another shrill sound gravity kicked in again and she fell with a scream.

She heard the metallic clang as the ladder scraped to the floor and walls, shattering and soon they would land, probably with a broken neck or worse alive for these creatures.

Closing her eyes just waiting for the moment she heard the hissing screeches of the aliens that seemed to be around her, she braced herself for pain for the end...as the air was forced out of her lungs and she felt the weight of gravity bearing down on her…but pain she did not feel.

Yelping as her hands touched something hard, something that had wrapped itself around her waist and had no intention of letting go, she looked directly into the face of the creature.

It just looked at her with its sharp teeth, a superior smile if you could call it that as she felt the firm tail continue to wrap around her, wrapping around her hips, supporting her legs and resting the spike on her shoulders, she was exactly where it wanted her to be.

The dangerously spiky tail was hard chitin-like and yet it handled its spike with care as the black creature slowly pulled her towards it, she heard her whimper the fear go through her as she just let this simple movement happen, ,,Stay-Stay away" escaped her lips as her hands clawed at its tail which the Xenomorph didn't even seem to notice.

The power in the tail, the power this creature had to kill her, it had used to lift her up with almost a demonstration of what it could do. Showed what it could do to her and still decided to gently hold her as if it owned her and she had no choice.

Instead, she tried to push away as it ran one of its claws over her arm as if it were trying to feel her, ,,Not-please…can-can you understand me?" she dared to ask, wincing as the sharp claws ran over the cut on her arm and the creature let out an almost silent hiss as it looked at the red blood that didn't resemble its own.

As two worlds clashed unequally, a human woman fragile fleshy helplessly wrapped by the perfect creature without feelings seemed not to care about her emotions.

This tongue other than its tail other was so grotesque that it did not match the long enveloping almost protective something, it did not give itself to her words and yet she continued to hold the movements of the muscles or whatever it was that pressed tensely against her body in the pointed tail.

It wouldn't let her go and she realised as if they both knew she could do nothing against the alien and despite the fact that she was inferior to this thing, it still chose to be gentle.

She held her bloodied hand out to the creature, trembling slightly, and saw that it seemed to be sniffing as if it was trying to gather information, ,,This is-is blood in me, you see-see," she said seemed to choke on her stammering voice, aware of the overall irony of the situation and yet seemingly more certain that it would not kill her immediately, not knowing if it understood, instead whimpering in fear as she saw the tongue-like thing.

She couldn't tell if it wanted her blood as she was still waiting for her death to come, if not through the creature then through the wounds and if they weren't fast enough then through the universe which would swallow them all up it was all a big joke from the start and an escape from here would have been too good.

Swore to herself that it would rip her hand to shreds, throwing her to the ground dead…but no instead it seemed to taste her blood the mix of overly watery saliva covering her hand unpleasant but not harmful as the xenomorph used its claw to gently pat her on the head trying to soothe her.

But it was more like someone was almost hitting her on the head it was so strong, ,,Thanks" she just said, and gasped at it as another rumble and beep went through the spaceship in all this she had almost forgotten what was happening around her and the creature seemed to have forgotten too as it hissed and pulled her closer but still not killing her.

She didn't know what it wanted and screamed in fear again as the alien moved quickly on all fours and began to crawl around, pulling her with it but not once did she hit the floor or the walls in the opposite direction, the Xenomorph was careful not to hurt her.

She was sure that she might be fed to the others or would be used as a tool as a cocoon imaginations that threatened to bring tears to her eyes as she disappeared into the shafts with the Xenomorph.

But even though it was a little narrow she found herself metres deep in like a shrouded room in which to her great shock she saw these crawling little creatures she had seen what these monsters could do to her, to her body and insides.

She scratched and clawed at the tail trying to get away wishing she had her weapon back as she saw one of the little creatures jump towards her but a scream from her ‘saviour’ and a knock away the xenomorph protected her and slowly plopped her down in the middle of this nest on something soft that looked like an old blanket or something.

Before she could even move away, however, the tail wrapped itself around her again and the Xenomorph placed itself next to her, seeming to lie down, ,,Thank you…thank you for saving me," she said, carefully placing her hand on the creature's head, which hissed quietly and tried to relax.

As the other creatures snuggled up to her body, probably enjoying her warmth, perhaps these complex, deadly creatures could feel something after all, the incidental thought occurred to her.

Even though she was surrounded by death everywhere, the Xenomorph that was with her seemed to be looking for something like maybe comfort in the face of impending death and maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe it was just that in the end as she cuddled up to the creature lightly she realised that it was all right after all instead of dying alone.

So it was that by the end the creatures were almost cuddling up to the two of them as the spaceship came closer and closer to the metreoites and in the end they were all peacefully together for the first time in a common death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@an-absolute-waste-of-space , @bonkbunn , @uscss-prometheus

[star-girl69]

Take Me To Paris

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: your girlfriend finally takes you on a vacation! …to australia.

a/n: maybe i’ll do a part 2 in which y/n almost dies of spiders and snakes and georgia almost dies of americanness… we’ll see but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!

Take Me To Paris - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: me desecrating australia, sorry y’all, um swearing, some kissing, mostly fluff, idk if this is normal but i sleep outside sometimes on the trampoline in my backyard so like… this is normal to me lol but idk, lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

You weren’t exactly scared of flying, more so just constantly aware of every little thing that can go wrong.

You can’t stop bouncing your leg, checking your phone every five seconds to make sure that it is in fact charging, you’ve rechecked your bag for your passport about 20 times, and you’re clutching your boarding pass so hard you’ve kinda crumpled it.

“Let me see your boarding pass.”

You hold out your hand to Georgia, who has been looking at you slightly concerned for the past hour, and she hands over the piece of paper wordlessly.

You scan the piece of paper, ensuring that, again, her name is on it, this is the right flight, and her seat is right next to yours.

You let out a deep breath before passing it back to her.

Everything will be fine. I’m calm. I’m so calm. It’s just a 16 hour flight.

Nevermind. You’re not calm.

“How do you do this?” You finally mutter, your bouncing leg coming to a standstill.

Your girlfriend, who is very annoyingly calm, looks up from her phone.

“Do what?”

“Like, planes. Travel. I just- are you sure it’s 16 hours?”

She smiles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure the flight I’ve taken a million times is 16 hours long.”

You let out a huff, putting your head into your hands. You’re sitting at one of those charging tables near your gate, waiting anxiously for them to finally start boarding, while Georgia stands next to you, completely unbothered.

She tuts and rubs your back. “I promise you’re going to be completely fine, yeah? You’re just psyching yourself out.”

“Okay,” you mumble, taking your head out of your hands to instead stare intently at the gate. You start cracking your knuckles absentmindedly, not even noticing you’re doing so until your girlfriend sets down her phone and grabs your hands.

“Okay, I love you very much so please don’t take this the wrong way.”

You shoot her a warning look.

“You need to calm the fuck down.”

You let go of her hands and scoff, trying to be mad at her, but she’s smiling at you- and her smile really is contagious. You never really believed it before, people having contagious smiles, and maybe you’re just in love with her, but whenever she smiles you follow soon after.

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting her fingers linger as you pointedly look away from her.

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but simply grabs your jaw and forces you to look at her other hand, now sticking her pinky out.

“I pinky promise that everything will be fine.”

“You’re a child.”

“Oh, babe,” she whispers, looking side to side. “Maybe don’t say that so loud.”

“Shut up.”

You try to hide your smile, mouth thinning into a line, but ends of your mouth curl up into a smile as she squeezes your cheeks together.

“Okay, pinky promise. I’ll even take your carry-on for you so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, you were gonna do that anyways,” you tease.

“Probably,” she shrugs. “Stop. Pinky promise. Now.”

You sigh dramatically but interlock her finger with yours.

“Okay, now, pinky promise you’ll calm the fuck down, yeah?”

“I pinky promise, or whatever.”

She tugs you towards her with the hand still on your jaw, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek- she lingers, for just a second.

“Love you.”

—-

You recheck your ticket for the same time, confirming this is the right seat.

“You want middle or aisle, babe?”

You had decided to check your bags for this flight, so Georgia is carrying both her backpack and yours, while also holding your hand through the aisles- it’s honestly pretty impressive.

“Would it be weird if I said middle?”

“Nah,” she shrugs, gesturing for you to climb into the middle seat.

You sit down, smiling politely at the man in the window seat, immediately putting up the hand rest in between you and Georgia- ignoring her smile as she sits down next to you. She starts to put your bags under the seats, but you grab yours.

You rifle through it one more time, laying eyes on your passport, your wallet, your phone charger, your book, and every other little thing before feeling calm enough to zip it up and stuff it under the seat in front of you.

“Okay,” you mumble. “I’m ready.”

Georgia gives you that same concerned look she’s been giving you ever since you got to the airport.

“Are you, like, scared of flying or something?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Traveling just makes me nervous. And it’s sixteen hours.”

“You’re gonna sleep for most of it,” she dismisses, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “There’s no way I can fall asleep.”

She smiles at you, and you stare right back, completely serious.

“Nah, you’ll fall asleep.”

“Nah,” you echo, “I won’t.”

“C’mere,” she says, wrapping her arm around you so you can rest your head on her shoulder, kind of awkwardly- but her touch and her smell is comforting. You force your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “There we go, darling,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your head, leaving her lips there to breathe you in fire a second. “Much better.”

She settles back into her own seat, putting her Airpods in and taking out her phone.

You open your eyes and stare straight ahead at the blue seat in front of you.

—-

“I seriously cannot believe you didn’t sleep that entire flight.”

You’re oddly wide awake right now. Maybe it’s just the excitement of finally being off of the airplane, or being in a brand new place- it feels different here. The air feels thicker- more humid?

“Wait, what time is it here?” You ask, seeing nothing but gaping blackness outside the huge windows of the gate.

Georgia looks at her phone, her arm looped tightly with yours as if you’re going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

“12:31.”

You frown, feeling slightly disoriented- maybe you should have slept. It’s not like you didn’t try, though. You squeezed your eyes shut for what felt like entire hours, you forced Georgia to run her hands through your hair, you listened to the most calming songs you could think of, and you simply stayed awake.

Georgia fell asleep an hour into the flight, though, and you tried to be angry at her… but eventually gave up and just let her lay practically on top of you. Which was quite a feat in economy class on an airplane, really.

“Where are we going, then?”

Georgia looked at you oddly, again very concerned- you felt kinda guilty for how worried she seems to be over you.

“We got a hotel in Melbourne for tonight, remember? ‘Cause our plane landed at midnight, and it’s an hour and a half drive to Balarat, yeah?”

The memories finally click in your brain.

“Ohhhh, yeah,” you nod. “I remember now.”

Georgia tugs you along, walking faster through the terminal. “Let’s get our bags and let’s get you into a bed. You’re kinda scaring me.”

She looks at you out of the corner of her eye.

“You didn’t sleep at all? Like, not even for a few minutes?”

“No,” you shrug.

She shakes her head. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Oh, okay,” you hum, tugging your arm away from hers. “You can sleep on the floor tonight.”

She grabs your hand and tugs you right back over to her.

“Yeah, that’ll happen.”

—-

“Oh, my God, look up, babe.”

“Huh?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from the sidewalk. You had successfully gotten your bags and a taxi to the hotel, and you were now walking along the sidewalk to the huge doors.

“Why are you staring at the ground?”

Your suitcase gets stuck on a crack, and you tug it forward. Maybe it’s because a bed is so close now, but exhaustion is really staring to set in. All you can think about is literally throwing yourself into the bed, dragging Georgia down with you, and collapsing.

“Watching for snakes and spiders.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Um, yes, I am. Australia is dangerous as fuck. Snakes, spiders, dingos, kangaroos, sharks, crocodiles, giant fucking bats? I’m not taking risks.”

“This is fucking Melbourne, not the bush.”

“What’s the bush?”

She stops and looks up at you.

“I need you to tone down the American-ness by, like, 10 please.”

“Okay, sorry,” you huff, smile crawling onto your face, the automatic doors of the hotel sliding open. “Not my fault the only thing I know about Australia is ‘G’day, mate. I’m from down under, yeah? Kangaroos and dingo babies-’”

“I will give you money to shut up.”

“Ooh, how much?”

“Whatever you want, just please, please, for the love of God stop doing that horrible accent,”

“It’s a wonderful accent,” you fake pout.

“It’s like nails on a chalkboard. I’m being so for real.”

“Whatever,” you shrug. “Can we go see kangaroos, by the way? Like I just want to go stare at kangaroos. I want to know that they’re really real, y’know?”

“Jesus Christ- you know what? Sure. We’ll go see kangaroos.”

—-

“Oh, this place is nice,” you smile, dragging your suitcase into the room and shoving it in the empty space next to the bed.

“Oh no,” Georgia frowns, staring at the bed. “I must have booked it wrong, there’s only one bed.”

“Aw, that sucks.” You sit down, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself back onto the bed. “Have fun on the floor.”

“Can we just put a pillow between us?” She asks, trying to play along with the joke but already smiling as she lays next to you on her stomach, her own shoes falling to the floor.

“No, sorry. I just feel really uncomfortable sleeping with you, seeing as you… like girls and all, and I just… I don’t support that, sorry. I don’t want to catch it from you.”

“Really?” She smiles, crawling towards you. “You’re sure you don’t like girls? Not even a little bit?”

She hovers over you, hands planted next to your head, and you wrap your arms around her neck.

“I’m so straight I actually don’t even look at girls.”

She presses a quick kiss to your lips.

You gasp but make no move to push her away. “You just assaulted me.”

“You can assault me right back, baby.”

“Disgusting,” you groan, before sliding one of your hands down to her face to push her towards you, kissing her long and slow.

She adjusts herself so her legs are now in between yours, her hand drifting down to grab at your thigh and wrap it around her waist, pulling you even closer to her, until suddenly you’re barely even kissing her, just kind of languidly going through the motions as you eyes drift shut, her comforting weight above you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs, finally pulling away for air but immediately trailing kiss down your cheek and jawline to your neck.

You turn your head to the side, yawning as you do so, letting her hand squeeze your thigh and her kisses turn into the faintest marks-

“Look! There’s a balcony!”

You try to push her away from you and sit up, but she gives you a bored look.

“I’m on top of you right now and you want to go see the balcony?”

“Yeah..? You’ll be fine,” you shrug, managing to maneuver yourself out from under her, running over to the sliding glass door and pressing your face against it.

Melbourne is spread out before you. Well, more so in the distance, you’re kinda just outside of Melbourne. There’s a few bright lights even at this hour, and you can see the faintest glimpse of the balcony-

“Aww, there’s a little couch out there!”

Calling it a couch was probably making someone roll over in their grave. It was just a two person chair made out of wicker, with a thin red cushion on it. It looked uncomfortable.

Your eyes drifted up to the stars.

“C’mon,” you urge Georgia, turning around to find her waiting for you on the bed, laying on her side with her head propped up. You start tugging the blanket off of the bed, ignoring the way she exclaims in mock outrage.

“The fuck are you doin’?”

“I want to sit outside,” you explain, switching tactics and instead grabbing her hand, trying to tug her up- but she packs a lot of muscle in that body, and you can only get her to move a few inches before she braces herself and you’re stuck.

“It’s 1 in the morning?” She says, eyebrows furrowed as she looks out at the balcony.

“Yeah,” you deadpan. “The stars are out.”

She sighs.

“You really want to go out there?”

You tug on her again.

“Yes, Georgia, please come with me. I need someone to protect me from giant bats. Also, what if I see a giant spider, have a heart attack, and die right in front of you?”

She looks into your eyes.

“Please, Georgia.”

“I do like it when you say please like that,” she sighs, corners of her mouth ticking up into a smile. You grin and place a kiss onto the back of her hand.

“Please, please, please, please Georgia, my talented sexy girlfriend, will you please sit outside with me?”

“Fine,” she groans with a smile, letting you tug her up and gather the blanket in your arms. She opens the sliding glass door and gestures you through it, of course not letting you pass by her without smacking your ass.

She goes to the edge of the balcony, leaning against it and looking out down below to the street.

“It’s cold,” she groans.

You’ve already situated yourself in the somewhat uncomfortable chair, blanket spread out over you, a perfect view of the stars in front of you- the only thing missing is your girlfriend.

“That’s why I brought the blanket, duh.”

“Smart-ass,” she teases, and you smile and open up the blanket for her. “Sure you’re comfortable being so close to me? Sharing a blanket?”

“Shut up, Georgia.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she mumbles, mocking you under her breath, but when she finally puts her arms around you any bratty comeback in your head disappears.

Her arm is around your shoulders, your head is leaning against hers, your legs intertwined under the blanket.

“I love you,” you mumble, also letting out a yawn.

She turns her head towards you, that signature big smile taking up her entire face. She presses a kiss so softly to your hairline you think there’s no possible way she could show you she loves you more.

She lets her lips linger. That’s how you know she loves you. She’s always lingering around you- chasing after your hand when you let go, kissing you too hard and immediately going back in for more, hugging you for what could arguably be called too long- she never wants to let go of you.

“Love you too,” she finally replies. One of your arms finds it’s way around her neck, hand playing with the back of her hair, her humming softly in approval. “I wanna spend everyday like this.”

You laugh a little. “Me asleep on my feet, stressed the fuck out, annoying you about Australia in a random hotel in Melbourne?”

“I mean I wanna spend everyday with you. Doing something new everyday. Even if you annoy me about Australia.”

“Aw, mate, you’re so sweet,” you reply with a small smile. She seems to choose to ignore you, and you decide to be nice and drop the accent. “I want to do everything with you. Except, maybe somewhere with less giant flying bats. How about Paris?”

“Giant fucking bats,” she mumbles to herself, blowing out air. “Where the fuck are you getting that- y’know, nevermind. Yeah, let’s go to Paris.”

“Yay,” you mumble, yawning again as you close your eyes, the pretty stars shining behind your eyes.

“Baby,” Georgia starts after a second, very softly, caressing your face to keep you awake. “I’m not sleeping out here.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine,” you mumble, kicking your leg out. “We’d be fine though. But, if the big bad Aussie girl is scared of sleeping outside, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” she says, seemingly offended even as she helps you up, grabs the blanket and keeps you close to her. “I’m not scared, babe. I just want to sleep in an actual bed.”

“Sure,” you hum, throwing yourself onto the bed and feeling Georgia lovingly place the blanket over you before climbing in beside you.

She rests her head on your chest, and everything feels so good and so right you yawn one final time, eyes shutting in a way that you know they’re not opening again.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

She kisses the bare skin of your chest, letting her lips linger.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

—-

[drysdalesworld]

completely serious

jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader

ik the third pic is him wearing a ducks jersey but there’s nothing really of him in flyers gear that fit what i was looking for, so let’s just pretend <3

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and more

y/n.hughes: to a new era baby! hope philly treats you well 🧡🧡 (please take care of him flyers or i will violently cry)

tagged: jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: i too will violently cry

lhughes_06: so this is where you took your impromptu trip to

y/n.hughes: & what about it

userone: still can’t believe it tbh 😭

yourbestie: she very much will! philadelphiaflyers

yourroommate: she cried upon hearing the news

philadelphiaflyers: we will take great care of jamie! do not worry 🧡

philadelphiaflyers: we will make sure to water him daily & make sure he gets enough sunlight 🫡

usertwo: stopp!! the way they are describing him as a house plant 😂 i cant

mfrost16: we’ll take him out on walks too!

userthree: now he’s a dog 😭😭

userfour: i mean he did bark his first game with the flyers userthree

jackhughes: i will not be picking up the pieces if she starts to violently sob

lhughes_06: you never do

_quinnhughes: i do that

_quinnhughes: when have you ever done that bro

jackhughes: i feel attacked rn

userfive: the way the flyers flew BOTH y/n & jamie’s parents out for his first game 😭😭 warms my heart

usersix: they did?

userfive: yep! during his post game interview, someone asked if the flyers flew anyone else out for jamie & he said that he wouldn’t play if they didn’t fly y/n out as well! (jokingly of course)

usersix: that’s so freaking cute 😖

jamie.drysdale: i was completely serious userfive

philadelphiaflyers: he, in fact, was completely serious userfive

userseven: UGH GOALS 💞💞

usereight: they’ll treat him well y/n!

jamie.drysdale: i’ll miss you so much love 🤍 i’ll have the flyers fly you out whenever (& if not, then i will)

y/n.hughes: i’ll miss you more!! im so so proud of you & can’t wait to see the amazing things you’ll accomplish in philly ❤️❤️

philadelphiaflyers: y/n’s apart of the team already! we’ll fly her out whenever you want jim! just say the word ✈️✈️

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by luca.fantilli, masonmctavish23, and more

y/n.hughes: jamie photo dump during these trying & sad times

tagged: jamie.drysdale

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: the fifth picture is evil y/n. why you got to do my boy like that? (please send it to me asap)

y/n.hughes: check your messages babes 😚

trevorzegras: bless girl hughes 🙏🙏

userone: another shoe tying pic!!!

lhughes_06: uhhh, why am i not tagged in the sixth pic?? i so graciously taught your bf how to wake board & this is the thanks i get??

y/n.hughes: thank you so much luke for teaching my boyfriend how to wake board & almost kill him in the process 😑

lhughes_06: i am an amazing teacher! he did not almost die

jackhughes: dude, you almost broke his nose when you both went down after YOU jumped on him

lhughes_06: i do not recall such a thing

jamie.drysdale: i will let the fifth picture slide just this once bc i miss & love you so much 🥰 (also, almost died in the last pic 💀)

jackhughes: SEE!! lhughes_06

lhughes_06: 🎶 i cant see i’m blinnndddd🎶👨‍🦯

y/n.hughes: love & miss you more 🤍🫶🏼

_quinnhughes: the lake house that summer will forever be burned into my brain

usertwo: in a good way? 😀

userthree: THE FUCKING ‘I ❤️ MY GIRLFRIEND’ TSHIRT 😫😫😫😫😫

yourroommate: i specifically remember the first pic like it was yesterday

userfour: babes spill! what happened!!

yourroommate: y/n was not having a good week so jamie flew out for the weekend & showed up with flowers & wearing that exact shirt userfour

yourbestie: he said, and i quote, “i saw this shirt on tiktok & though you’d like it” & y/n proceeded to cry :) userfour yourroommate

y/n.hughes: why am i and my bf being exposed in this comment thread?? 🙃

userfive: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE GOLF PIC 😫😫

y/n.hughes just posted to their story!

caption: from #6 to #9, here’s to new beginnings! jamie.drysdale

[hotchfiles]

↪ DANIEL 12:1 ─ chapter two.

AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT

pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. mentions of throwing up. word count: 1.2K

      At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered.

      He didn’t reply to your question, how could he? What type of person asks another if they believe in God after an hour of meeting each other? How could he answer a question he himself wasn’t sure if there was an answer to?

      Did he believe in God? What god? His mother’s, the one who allowed her to drink her feelings and spit it out in form of insults and violence towards her family? The one that allowed his father to die of cancer? The one that didn’t do anything to stop the sick men and women Hotch had to catch every week?

      He shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts back to the case presented now in the board of the DC precinct but his eyes land on you, the way your foot shakes, up and now, your legs crossed, your fingers tapping the table quickly and with a rhythm of their own, your bottom lip would bleed out if you kept chewing on them, but what he noticed most were your eyes, wide and focused on the board with all the pictures from the crimes, even the ones Emily hadn’t sent you.

      This was the reason bringing outside people was not a good idea. Not everyone is prepared to deal with death, horrific deaths at that, the way the BAU members were. You clearly weren’t. He might’ve asked you how you were once more, but as quick as he thought about it, you two weren’t alone anymore as the lead detective and Emily came into the room.

      “They were drugged but could feel everything.” The words ring inside your ears, loud and repetitive like a beating heart. Your heart. Your mouth waters in a way you know too well and you feel your palms clamming.

      You’re going to be sick.

      You give the room half a smile and a nod, quietly excusing yourself from the others while making the effort not to make a scene, but you’re barely able to see where you’re going as you try to reach the bathroom.

      Something tells you you’ve done a good job at being discreet, even if you weren’t able to conceal the awful sounds coming from your throat, the light breakfast you had suddenly not seeming very light. It’s probably the fact no one knows you, or maybe because everyone else is busy trying to solve a goddamn murder case.

      The thoughts in your head were quickly brushed over when you heard someone clear their throat, a light knock on the door of the stall you were kneeling at. Your body reacts fast, holding the door with your palms even though it was locked.

      “Sorry, occupied.” Your voice in rough from putting it through too much, but you stay polite regardless.

      “Are you alright?” There is genuine concern in his, it keeps any shame from creeping up on you.

      “Mr. Hotchner! I’m okay… I ate something bad, it’s alright.” The lie comes without a second thought, but it’s obvious he doesn’t buy it. You get up quickly, opening the door as an attempt to leave the situation behind along with the contents you just flushed down.

      “No one expects you to react to these like we do.” His eyes are piecing and you swallow dry, nodding in understanding and thankfulness, but unable to say much else. “I will leave you to it, we are going through the files again, if you need anything, you can text me.” Hotch hands you his card, realizing you don’t really have his number and stands to his word, leaving you alone.

      Truthfully, he’s not sure what made him follow you to the bathrooms, possibly the fact Emily didn’t seem to notice the way your lips had gotten devoid of color or maybe it was just in his nature to care for others, fascinating alike you or not.

      It doesn’t take you too long to go back to the conference room the team was set, only some minutes to wash your mouth and your face, a few deep breaths to control your heart rate.

      “So the motive isn’t religious?” You hear a police officer ask as soon as you get back.

      “It has religious elements but the message doesn’t seem religious.” You smile to yourself as Emily speaks, fascinated by her quickness to get into work mode, to get into the mind of who was doing all of that.

      “It‘s about punishment.” Hotch repeats your earlier insight, it makes you feel useful, and smart. You knew you were intelligent, brightly so, but having something you said be important in something so big as an investigation was… Different.

      “And how is that not religious?”

      “Punishment coming from a religious motive would probably include whipping and at the most extreme, burning. The use of the cross pose seems purposeful, it is a punishment, a shameful one, but also, there’s some… Status to it, because it was how Jesus was killed.” You can be heard by everyone, but your focus is again on the pictures, your finger quietly drawing invisible crosses along the table. “I guess it can be another way to allude to Catholicism, like Saint Michael, they are the religion with the biggest attachment to the image of Christ in the cross. But then again, it doesn’t have any other aspect of Christ’s crucifixion.”

      No one has the time to reply to your rambling, a loud ringtone interrupting the brainstorming, Hotch answers, promptly putting the call on speaker.

      “The widow was no help, she is shaken up and has no idea who would want to kill her husband.” Derek sounds defeated, “And Hotch, he wasn‘t religious.”

      “Mrs. Beckett said she tried to bring him to mass countless times during their marriage but he always vehemently refused to.” Spencer’s voice is higher in pitch but he sounds intrigued, deep in thought.

      “Alright, come back to the precinct, we are waiting for Rossi and JJ and beginning to create a geographical profile.”

      Your puzzled look doesn’t last long, as the team present begins pinning on a map the victim’s homes and where they were found.

      “No churches near the warehouses, but two near Monica Dawson’s place.” Emily comments first looking at the red pins.

      The phone rings again and you wonder if they don’t get headaches from that sound coming out of nowhere all day, but the sweetest and most cheerful voice you ever heard comes on speaker, Garcia, and you smile involuntarily.

      “Garcia, any leads?”

      “You know I do, my darling sweet boss—”

      “Don’t call me that.”

      “Fine, sweet sir, both warehouses are pretty much truly abandoned, but I sniffed around, and by that I mean I went far far back and found some documents I maybe shouldn’t be sniffing around—”

      “Garcia.” You hold in a laugh at the interaction and the supposedly threatening tone Hotch was using.

      “Both were used for military training, like… SEAL type of military.”

      There is a bit of an awkward silence before Hotch thanks and dismisses her, with the mission to find records of everyone who were apart of those trainings.

      “If we’re dealing with a Navy SEAL…” Emily’s voice is a whisper you’ve never heard before.

      “Things might get ugly. We need to be fast.” Hotch’s shows more confidence, but he is worried and as you realize seconds later when an officer barges in, he has every reason to.

      “There’s been another one.”

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part one

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi again! obligatory note to say sorry i didn't update a couple days ago i meant to but i got hit by a car and then i was working lmao (i'm fine but the ao3 curse did in fact find me)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Mister Snow." Coriolanus's head jerks up at his name from where it was resting against his palm, nearly having fallen asleep by the side of your bed. You were out cold and had been for close to a week now, but part of him hoped he would be there when you eventually stirred.

"We have to ask you to leave now, but you can come back tomorrow after seven," The nurse tells him, a sympathetic smile on her face. This was the sixth night in a row they'd had this exact conversation.

"Of course, thank you," he grumbles as he stands up, rubbing his eyes.

"How is your mentorship going?" she asks, just for the sake of making conversation. "It is very exciting. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks..." he hums, hand sliding over his jaw in slight discomfort. He had little to no interest in his tribute. It was clear Lucy Gray had no shot at winning, and he had an even smaller shot at the Plinth Prize thanks to her. Now, he could hardly even stomach looking at her. "The Songbird," as everyone called her. 

In reality, his best friend had been forgotten the moment Lucy Gray Baird set foot on that stage in District Twelve and began to sing, and he loathed her for it. The way that all eyes turned to you next to him during the reaping as soon as his tribute's lips parted and began to sing made his stomach turn even now.

Coriolanus's eyes parted from the screen to look over at you, a small teasing smile on his face as he reached out to nudge you with his elbow when instead he was met with an expression of horror on your face. He could see the way your neck tensed as you swallowed hard, and he looks around to see almost everyone else's eyes on you as well for just a moment at a time, stealing glances in your direction.

Your jaw tightens while you grind your teeth together. She was good. But you were better at masking your discomfort with the whole situation, looking down to smooth out your black skirt where it lay across your lap and ignoring all the eyes that had fallen on you.

"It's going well," he lies in response.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's got a real talent, that girl," She smiles, and Coriolanus knows she's not trying to take a jab at the girl lying unconscious a few feet away, but he couldn't see it any other way. "Well, best of luck to her. And you, of course."

"Thanks. Have a good night," Coriolanus replies almost under his breath, taking a final glance at you fast asleep in the cold-looking hospital bed, neck bandaged down to your bruised shoulders before he leaves for the night.

It's sunny out when Coriolanus makes his daily trek to the Capitol Zoo to feed his tribute, and his academy uniform feels heavier on his shoulders than what he's used to.

His tribute smiles as she gets up and brushes off the front of her rainbow dress, making her way over to the bars to greet him. "Good afternoon, Coriolanus. Doin' well today?" she asks as he gets closer, already digging into his bag for the food he brought her.

"Fine," he mumbles in response, holding the folded napkin out to her that contains a cookie he took from the academy lunchroom.

"Thank you," Lucy Gray says as she takes it, unfolding the small cloth from around it and taking a bite. Chewing on it, she looks up at him again, taking note of the bags forming under his blue eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

His eyes flick from the cookie she was eating back up to hers, a slight glare behind them as he swallows stiffly. "Yes, well, she's alive," he tells her, looking back down as she breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to him.

"No, thank you," he shakes his head, pushing her hand away with his own.

"You should eat. You look like you need the energy," she says sympathetically.

He sighs because she's probably right. He takes it from her hand carefully, already breaking off a piece. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lucy Gray knew their little routine by now. It was obvious when he brought her food the first time that he was going hungry. She had seen the signs enough back home to recognize it even here, hidden within what was supposed to be the endless opulence of the Capitol.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks as he begins to chew the tiny piece of the cookie, mindful of chewing and swallowing it slowly. He looks up at her again, confusion in his eyes. "Your friend, I mean." she explains.

"No." he answers quickly, shaking his head.

His semi-hostile response only leads Lucy Gray to believe that this girl she had seen get attacked meant something to him. Though, she already knew that when they walked into the zoo arm-in-arm like birds of a feather minutes before the girl was attacked, and her mentor had to be dragged away from her by Peacekeepers when a medical team finally arrived.

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About Y/N?" he asks, eyes softening just a bit.

Lucy Gray nods in confirmation, a small smile on her lips as she urges him on.

"She, uh..." Suddenly he doesn't know where to start with you. Your parents' names are what would traditionally come first in the Capitol, but he knew that would mean nothing to the girl in front of him. That you were his best and only real friend? That you were a singer, too, just like her, but you would likely never sing another note again? "She's a singer in training for the Opera House on Presidential Way. She is... she was very good."

Lucy Gray's eyes light up as he speaks. "She was a singer?"

Coriolanus nods, putting his focus back into eating.

"She must have been amazing," Lucy Gray says, trying to make comforting conversation.

"She is," he corrects her quickly, disguising it as agreement, despite having been the one to refer to your singing abilities in the past tense.

"Of course." She agrees, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean..."

"They are making some changes to the Games." He cuts her off, wanting to move on to avoid having to think about the current state of his best friend. It makes his heart sink and the accompanying dread causes that awful burning sensation behind his eyes that makes him want to cry. "So... you need to sing again. Get people to like you. Then I'll be able to send you things in the arena to keep you alive."

Lucy Gray seems hesitant, letting out a huff with the slight shake of her head, looking around before locking her eyes back on him. "I don't sing when I'm told. I sing when I have something to say."

Coriolanus is jarred by her statement, tilting his head a bit and clenching his jaw at the notion and her ferocity behind it. He can't help it when the sudden, stark difference between Lucy Gray and his best friend hits him like a thunderstorm coming in quick on a sunny day. 

She sang when she had something to say, you sang because you had to. This fact would keep him up at night for weeks.

The games had come and gone, and there had been no winner this year. Your tribute was shot dead the day she attacked you, and Dr. Gaul saw it as some kind of justice that after your assault, the bombing, and the deaths of your other classmates, the death of all those District kids would keep their home districts from rebelling. From seeing the Capitol as vulnerable, or something like that. You really couldn't care less. At least Felix and the twins were lucky enough to have succumbed to their injuries.

The hospital was cold and dark at almost all hours of the day. You couldn't do a thing besides sit there and wait. For what, you weren't even sure.

"She's not having a good day today," The nurse informs Coryo as he checks in to visit you. He comes by every day, sometimes multiple times a day to see you, and you have your good and bad days. He's well used to that by now.

"Has she eaten?" he asks, and the nurse shakes her head.

"Refused to touch anything we brought her," She sighs, but she's fighting back a smile, which makes him raise an eyebrow at her. Why would she be smiling at that?

"She will be able to go home tomorrow," She smiles, hearing the question he never verbalized. "I thought you might like to tell her."

"Oh... I see," Coryo hums, looking down the hall toward the staircase he would soon take to get to you.

"You don't seem pleased," She states quizzically, her grin fading.

"Why is she going home?" He asks. "She still can't even speak."

The nurse looks down, pursing her lips. "As the doctor mentioned, there's no guarantee that she will ever get her voice back. I'm sorry, truly, but there's nothing more we can do for her here. It's better that she's home with her family recovering somewhere more comfortable."

"Right," He swallows, nodding curtly at her. "Thank you," He replies simply, brushing past the nurse's station to go down to your room. 

He can always hear it before he sees it, the echo of opera music cycling through your favorite records time and time again, filling the quiet hall with something pleasant as soon as he opens the door from the stairwell.

"Y/N," You look up from where you're sitting in the corner, tilting your head at him. Coryo smiles as he walks in, and you wish you were in a better mood, to be a better host; as good of one as you could be when you were in the hospital and couldn't speak a single word to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips. The flowers people had brought you in your first couple of weeks were wilting, and then they stopped bringing them. Your whole life you had been praised for your voice; since you were six years old, the Capitol had seemingly been buzzing with hope for your future. You would be the most beautiful, accomplished singer Panem had ever seen - no one doubted it, but within weeks you had been completely forgotten. Replaced by the image of the girl who had sung at the reaping and once in an interview. Your room was quite a sad reflection of this, and you spent every minute of every day forced to wallow in it.

"Bad day?" Coryo asks anyway, but you just shrug, looking out the window at your sad view of the city that had abandoned you.

"Well, I've got some good news," He says, which draws your attention. You tilt your head at him, gesturing in a circular motion with your hand for him to go on.

He laughs, putting his bag down on your empty and perfectly made bed. "One second, here. In case you have questions." He pulls the small chalkboard out from the drawer next to your bed, holding it out to you with a piece of white chalk. You scrunch up your nose and wave rapidly for him to put it back. He knew it would bug you, that's why he did it, recalling the day he brought it for you and you almost threw it at him.

"I HATE writing with chalk," You scribbled quickly on a napkin with a pen you stole from his pocket, throwing the napkin at him and crossing your arms.

"What? Why?" Coryo laughed, dropping the crumpled piece of soft paper on the table next to your bed.

You shook your head, pursed your lips, and looked up, trying to find a way to explain the awful sensation without saying it. He watched you patiently as you thought, until you pretended to hold a piece of the white substance in between your thumb and forefinger, dragging it down the air slowly and pretending to gag. You shook your head again in disgust, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you felt so passionately about this," He drags the chalk down over the board, and you cringe, covering your ears. Coryo couldn't help but think that was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen.

That had been one of your good days, even though at the time your scar was still so fresh it was bandaged, and you were littered with bruises down to your ribs. The room was littered with fallen flower petals by now, yes, but also with what must be hundreds of notes you had shown to Coryo to express yourself in the only way you still could.

That memory still makes you smile, even if you do absolutely hate chalkboards. You walk past him and grab your notebook off the same table, picking it and the pen up as dramatically as you possibly can before sitting down on the bed and looking up at him.

"What?" He asks, just to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

'Get on with it. Also, you're not funny, and I hate you,' You write, turning the page to face him so he could read it.

"Oh, do you?" He chuckles, sitting down next to you.

You smack his arm with the book, motioning again that he should just spit it out.

"Okay! Okay, fine," He sighs emphatically, placing his hands on his thighs and looking down at the floor, just for a few moments to drive you more up the wall before turning his gaze to you. "They told me that you're going home tomorrow."

You open your mouth to speak, suddenly forgetting that you can't. You quickly shut your jaw, furrowing your brow and shaking your head. 'Why?' You mouth to him, neglecting the pad of paper in your lap.

He reads your lips, frowning at your lack of excitement. He was hoping you would be looking forward to it, but he knew you wouldn't be. Not really. "They said there isn't anything more they can do for you here, that you need to heal at home."

You stand up abruptly, throwing the paper down on the ground and clutching the pen so tight that Coryo fears it might shatter.

What do they mean "nothing they can do"? They could fix you, they could operate again, they could pump you so full of drugs that you could finally forget the hell that you're living in, that's what they could do. You couldn't even say that - or scream out your frustrations.

You turn back to Coryo, and the hurt look on your face crushes him. You want to speak to him so badly. Your lips fall open, and you try anyway. 'They're going to leave me like this?' You ask, but not a sound comes out. Not even so much as a whisper. Your throat burns regardless.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, standing up and reaching out for you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "Come here..." he says softly, already wrapping his arms around you as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall. You can't even hug him back, hands clutched to your chest as you shake under his hold.

"If I could take this from you, I would," He mumbles, shaking his head and resting his chin on your head as he rubs your back. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

What he wouldn't give to be able to hear your voice again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[4imhry]

tutor-in-disguise/fuckboy!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: his fuckboy reputation made your crush on him slightly lessen until recently, he was hired to tutor you without you knowing. you could never be more fucked up at the fact the fuck boy next door was hired to tutor you. big brain came up with a godlike features and a prince charming like charms? absolutely enough to get your knees buckle.

you woke up with beads of sweat forming on your forehead. you were hyperventilating at the fact you just had a wet dream and the boy next door you low-key had a crush on is in it.

a pool of wetness appear on your shorts causing you to let out a grunt. yes. you were still horny. the image of sunghoon being on top of you, railing you inhumanly got you slipping your hand inside of your shorts.

nonetheless, half way nearing to your orgasm, you got reminded again that was your neighbour you were fingering yourself to. it made you slipped your fingers out of your dripping cunt.

“fuck.” you cussed frustratedly.

you cringed at the thought of sunghoon kissing you. it unbelievably felt real. that was very odd you thought. the fact he looked insanely attractive in the dream made you shut your eyes in realisation you don’t want to find yourself falling for the fuck boy next door.

your head were still preoccupied with the dream of sunghoon railing you–practically drilling you until you rolled your eyes in pleasure. you then thought if this was the consequences of watching your neighbour watering the plants in a compressed sleeveless T-shirt.

you couldn’t blame your hormones for acting up too quickly just by the seeing of an attractive young man. for instance, it happened to be a young man named park sunghoon. he was attractive. very attractive.

not that you wish he would actually fuck you but both you barely talked to each other or whatsoever despite going to the same school or living literally next to each other.

“y/n?” the sound of faint knocking sounds could be heard.

“yes, mom?” you scurried on your feet and swung the door open.

“will you dressed up properly because we got something to discuss about with a person I hired to tutor you.” before you get to open your mouth in protest, she peeked a bit to see what the latter was up to downstairs.

“the boy is downstairs. he’s very charming.” your mother smiled in glee. “I,m sure you would have liked him–”

“you hired someone without asking me?” you ignored your mother’s comments about the unknown person. “background check is important, mom.”

“because I wanted to surprise you, my dear. I noticed you have been keeping an eye on him.” your mother nudged you on the elbow with a teasing smile yet expression remained stoic. she noticed you have been keeping an eye on him?

who is “him” in question?

she slung an arm around your shoulder and her other hand waving around, drawing a nonexistent vision board in the air. “don’t worry. I have met his parents and throughly did a background check on him.”

your jaw dropped onto the floor the moment your eyes fell on the familiar figure sitting at the living room with all smiles on his face, talking to your dad. his hair was neatly styled and the scent of his cologne slowly infiltrating your senses as you approached him.

your dad excused himself as soon as you sat at a couch near sunghoon, leaving only the two of you. “hey.” he began.

his voice knocked you out of your thoughts. “hey.”

“we should get along since we’re mostly going to spend a lot of time together.” he reached his hand out and you unknowingly, found yourself staring at him, too dazed by his unbelievably unreal looking features.

moreover by the fact you dreamt of him before meeting him right now was creeping you out.

he lifted an eyebrow, glancing at his stretched out hand briefly before looking back at you. “oh.” you cleared your throat and grasped his hand, lightly shaking it. “yeah we should.”

a subtle smile can be seen on his lips. you found you heart pounding at the small gesture. you can’t let sunghoon affected you just like he did to others.

“so, are we starting tomorrow?”

“yup. 2 hours session every monday until wednesday.” he pressed his lips into a thin line and opened his mouth again. “do you prefer afternoon session or night session?”

“whatever works best for you, sir–”

“I believe we’re the same age and I should be the one asking you that.” he tilted his head to the side a bit, a single strand of his hair fell on his forehead.

your lips parted for a sec before continuing. “alright. um, night session. my brain works best at night.” your eyes not being able to me his which looking intensely at you at the moment. “i found myself not being able to process information properly if I study during afternoon. I easily got sleepy.”

“very well then. night session it is.” you can feel his gaze raking all over your face, not in a weird way of course nonetheless the boy was trying to take in how endearing you seem in his eyes.

he saw you at school before from afar but he haven’t had the chance to see you up close, not at this distance to see how pretty and innocent looking you looked.

the boy able to sense the discomfort feeling you were feeling. “are you alright with me tutoring you? did you agree with the whole thing in the first place before I come here?”

you eyes averted to your mother coming from behind him, with a tray of tea cups in her hand as she settled them down on the table. yes.” you said unhesitatingly, averting your attention to your mother.

he knew the answer weren’t a genuine one.

🐧

“HE IS GOING TO TUTOR YOU?” yunjin shrieked, receiving a few judging stares from people passing by the two of you.

you mumbled a thank you to the seller before linking arms with yunjin, immediately dragging her to an empty table. “lower down your voice.” you sternly replied.

she muttered a small sorry before properly clasping her hands on the table with a demanding expression on her face which reads spill-all-the-goddamn-tea. “i had no idea she would hired him out of all those potential tutors in this state.” you rolled your eyes.

“hey, you should be happy about this. you basically got the chance to got him wrapped around your fingers and woo over you.” she sarcastically cocked her head to the side, her blonde hair swaying a little.

“why should i when there’s a rumour lingering around he fucked like 4 girls a week just to get off?”

“okay but still.” she lifted an eyebrow as she took a bite of her sandwich. “guys with experience are so good in bed.”

she sighed when you remained a stoic expression. “what happened to your undying crush for him? you liked him a few years ago.”

“but that was a few years ago.” you grunted and buried your face in your palm. “the rumour ruined my impression on him. i thought he was a goody two shoes with no drama.”

“but that’s what makes him more interesting.” you looked at yunjin with widen eyes who was staring at you with determination on her face, encouraging you to keep liking sunghoon.

“nah not for me i,m good.” yunjin’s smile fell.

“you’re saying it as if you’re gonna move on from him that easily. sunghoon’s charm has a chokehold on you for 4 years, y/n.” you pouted at your best friend’s comment because apparently what she said is true.

it won’t be easy because it’s park sunghoon we’re talking about. “being near him often would ignite your feeling for him again.” she smiled, taking the last bite of her sandwich before caressing your other hand.

what yunjin said was presumably to be true. seeing him again up close with a considerably close distance for you–his strong charismatic and expensive aura radiating from him allures you in, as if chanting a mantra your head, telling you to forget about your move on attempt.

“how’s your day, y/n?” hearing your name rolled of his tongue made you tense up in your seat. “i want to hear about your day.”

“good i guess. nothing interesting happened today.” you uttered flatly. “how about you?”

“same goes for me. but I could say jake, a friend of mine failed to woo the girl he likes. it’s so funny.” he chuckled, reminiscing how flustered his friend looked when the girl lacked of reaction the moment the Australian asked her out.

“I think that’s one of the interesting thing that happens today..” he trailed off, his eyes fell on you who already looking at him. those doe eyes of yours. they’re really something isn’t it?

“so,” he cleared at his throat and glanced at you momentarily before took one of his books and placed it at the table, “which topic you’re struggling with? you may ask as many questions as you want.” sunghoon leaned back, his eyes raking all over your face.

you flipped over the page of your textbook to the topic you’re struggling with. he nodded and without wasting anytime, as if he switched into a different person, he got into a teaching mode. sunghoon’s voice becoming more precise and stern as he explained about the topic.

however, the boy was aware to not sound too intimidating because he wants you to be comfortable around him. “so, do you understand everything so far? am I taking things too fast?” you shake your head and he smiled in relief.

“good girl.” he didn’t fail to notice the slight smile on your lips when he praised you. he picked up his chair and decided to sit next to you. you kept wondering if he was doing this on purpose because his hand often brushed against yours whenever you pointed you struggle at a certain question.

“how bout this one? it’s different from the questions I did earlier.”

“it’s pretty easy actually.” he smiled and proceeded to take one of his pencils, leaned slightly closer to you and explain the precise calculation of the question. firstly, you knew you failed at being attentive and most importantly, failed at an attempt to move on from sunghoon.

his god like features was insane from up close. the way one strand of his hair fell on his forehead just make his features look more..alluring? your breath hitched when he suddenly turned towards your direction, your lips were inches from his.

“do you get it now?”

“y-yeah.” no. you didn’t understand a thing other than staring at him for a good minute.

…

“this part is going to be a little difficult because you gonna need to memorise–” his eyes averted from the textbook to you who had fallen asleep, your cheek slightly squished which was perched on your palm.

you were adorable. the sight before him unexpectedly made him folded. hard. light snores coming out of your pretty lips just made his heart pounded faster.

“it’s been 1 hour. you deserve a break.” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear to get a better look of your face. a small smile made its way to his lips.

you let out a whine, switching your position to burying your face in your palms. he chuckled at the sound you just let out. the simplest gesture you made was enough to pull his heart strings.

he had never felt this way before. he surely did fucked around a lot however he was never the one to catch feelings. nonetheless, you were different. he gradually founded himself grew more fond of you the longer he laid his eyes on you.

sunghoon had this feeling you’re a fragile and an innocent glass which should be protected from all the harm in the world however at the same time, wouldn’t it be nice to have you arching your back for him, hearing your sweet voice screaming for his name.

he ran his slender fingers through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he observed your sleeping state. what has gotten into him?

…

sunghoon joined your family to eat dinner since you parents keep insisting him to do so. the boy had no choice but obliged; watching how your parents seem so happy and welcomed to have him here.

you knew it was wrong to still fantasies about your hot neighbour even when he’s sitting beside you. the way his biceps flexed when he picked up a dish or picked up a glass of juice was enough to make your underwear pooling with arousal.

you barely eat, not when he grazed his long fingers on your exposed thighs. you wondered if that unintentional but it was clearly not when he let his large hands rested on your thigh for more than 10 seconds.

you drew in a sharp breath the moment he squeeze your thigh, earning both of your parent’s attention.

“this spaghetti is a little spicy than usual.” you forced a smile and fortunately, your parents agreed and threw a few remarks here and there.

“yeah. did the restaurant change the chef?” your mother wondered.

“whatever. it makes this spaghetti tastes better.” your dad beamed.

you silently let out an exhale as you took a glance at sunghoon, mouthing “what.are.you.doing?”. your eyes then briefly fell on his huge arm which was still resting on your thigh. “get your hands off me.”

sunghoon smirked at your reaction, finding it endearing. “feisty.” he mouthed before taking the last bite of his spaghetti. you rolled your eyes, harshly smack his arm, causing him to wince as he rub it and his lips broke into a small smile later.

the interaction between the both of you were noticed by your parents, noting it as a friendly exchange.

his hand then slowly crawled up to your inner tight, a subtle smirk formed on his lips when he realised you’re wearing a skirt. good choice.

he softly caress your inner tight, then play with the hem of your panties which barely cover your core. your breath hitched when his long fingers pushed your panties aside, giving him access to rub your clit.

You whimpered softly, however the sound was drained out due to your parents immersive talking about their company. Your chest heaving up and down, your hand tightly gripped onto his thigh as he played with your wet folds and circling your clit sensually.

faint wet and squelch sounds can only be heard by the two of you. “h-hoon..” you whimpered as he began slipping his two fingers inside of you. he bit his lip due to how hot you looked–lips parted, your chest heaving heavily, your core dripping with arousal.

he wanted to take you on right then and there.

“fuck.” he murmured. you shut your eyes in pleasure as your head lowered, not wanting your parents to see the state you were in however sunghoon occasionally flashing smiles at you parents as if nothing happened. his hands surely work wonders, thrusting in and out of you.

he then turned to you, softly smiling as he fingers you while his thumb rapidly rubbing your clit, sending shockwaves to your whole body. “you like that?”

you nodded eagerly as you bucked your hips up for more friction. sunghoon can’t deny he was getting a hard on from watching you whimpering softly and squirming just from his fingers. he was eager to see how you looked like when he ruin you with his cock.

…..

“really? in front of my parents?” you coldly stated as you escorted him to the front door. (forcefully need to escort sunghoon)

“yeah. what about it? maybe they thought we’re getting along.”

“don’t do it ever again. you don’t want that perfect image of yours you created ruined before my parents, don’t you?”

“I thought you liked it when I did that to you.” He said gruffly, leaning closer. his tall figure looming over you.

you got flustered by his comment and looked away briefly. “it’s not appropriate for a tutor to do that to his students.”

“you’re saying that as if I’m not around your age.” he smirks as his finger tuck the hem of your skirt and smoothly pulled you close to him, your body bumping against his. You can clearly feel the bulge in his pants made the tent in his black slacks grew tighter.

“don’t pretend like you didn’t fantasise about me doing such lewd things to you.”

part 2? or nah? ;)

[skullvgirl]

GENDER : girlboss | barou

incl. the bad boy, barou

warnings. fem reader, fluff, crack, school!au, established relationship

an's. this one is for @chxxrybxxmb ≽ܫ≼, this was fun to write, tysm for the idea.

it was hard to talk to barou, he knew it was—he said it himself.

he wasn't friendly or cheerful like the rest if the team, he didnt have the social energy or demeanor they possessed.

people were scared of him to say the least ( not that he minded so much ) so scared in fact the only ones who would ever even talk to him besides the team was his teachers.

and you of course.

it was late afternoon and barou was just finishing up practice. you were here today ( on rare occasion ) to pick him up for dinner.

it didn't take you long to find the massive soccer field along with the massive team your boyfriend was on, he was loud as ever as he made the last goal, sealing the victory for the varsity team that seemed to playing the JV team.

"poor them, didn't even stand a chance" you shook your head. the score board read 5-0

you felt more comfortable making your way over to barou now as everybody was picking up equipment and packing up. it was a good time to snag his attention and let him know you'd be waiting in the car when he was ready.

"hey watch where you're fucking going dipshit"

it came from a JV player, whos name you didn't know, he purposely had bumped into your boyfriend as he was carrying equipment back, making sure it was hard enough to leave a bruise.

oh no

"excuse me?"

oh no this isnt good

barou didn't waste another second, immediately strutting towards the younger boy and yanking his shoulder back so now they were face to face.

"do we have a fucking problem?" barou stated agrily, cracking his knuckles together in preparation for what he was about to do.

the boy was shaking but didn't seem to want to back down, the whole fields eyes were on him now.

" i-I don't know, do we?" his voice came out cracked and shaky but he pressed on further, pumping his chest out in hopes of seeming intimidating.

it wasn't working.

no, no, no! shouei you stupid stupid man ! you could get kicked off the team for this !

you didn't waste any time, sprinting over and making your presence known to both your boyfriend and the bitter teamate.

"hit him and i will rip your balls off", barou acted shocked to see you here. he knew you were coming he just didn't think so soon.

barou's shoulders immediately untensed and he glanced over at the other players who watched in awe at how easily you were able to calm him down.

"thats what i thought, now get your stuff and get im the car, before someone really gets hurt" you said, not bothering to pay attention to the shocked faces of the team.

barou didn't say another word, but took one last glance at the other player at another last glance at you.

to the player he mouthed 'you are so lucky she's the boss of me, or you would be dead !'

and to you he said quitely "sorry love, won't happen again"

you only rolled your eyes and tracked his moving figure as he went back to the building, the other players however didn't move a muscle.

what the fuck just happened? they all thought.

you made your way to leave.

" wait a minute..."

you turned back, tilting your head to signal you were listening.

" you two are dating ??!"

from then on out it was public news that the two id you were together , although you'd been in a relationship for months now it seems more people were aware now that the egoistic and selfish soccer player had a super cool sweet girl girlfriend who he treated like everyday was her last.

like in the cafeteria

he sits alone with you and eventually people realized he makes your lunch—everyday, because you're always asking what he is making for you tomorrow.

can you believe that? barou, king barou making breakfast everyday without fail.

unimaginable

or the library

people dont spy nessacarliy but this one time, you got caught brushing his very long and lushess hair while he practicallypurred like a kitten on your lap. he regrets it with his whole heart. he ended up on the BLLK HIGH Almost Friday Page.

and on the soccer field of course

the score it 1-1, no overtime and sudden death. barou has the ball, and although he practically 10 feet out of his shooting range, he decides to take a chance.

he shoots

he scores

the crowd goes wild.

it's not long after he's crowded by the many other players that he makes his way to you, picking you up and twirling you around in his arms, kissing your face softly while everyone was there.

pda wasn't really his thing, but he didn't really care. your support was more than deserving of his affection and he wasn't shy if the whole world could see.

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: after he'd expended his pent-up energy, Wally had followed Rhonda out of the weight room and back up to the main floor where they'd encountered Simon stood outside the English classroom. neither had been sure what to make of him, but, for the briefest moment, Wally had been sure that there'd been more to Simon's ability than even Maddie or Charley knew.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: panic attacks. eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.19

Wally reentered the school in a haze, his thoughts a discordant refrain of feedback noise as he traipsed down the flights of stairs to the weight room. He was antsy, manic, brain going a thousand miles a minute. The silhouettes of important information indistinct behind a sandstorm of jealousy and confusion. He needed an outlet and the punching bag in the corner was unoccupied.

In perfunctory motions, he wrapped his knuckles in gauze and tape, slashed the air with a few practice swings, and then stepped up to the bag to unleash his aggression.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

He should focus on Simon, Wally knew. On the fact that Simon could see Maddie. That was huge. A piece of the puzzle that reinforced your claim of In Betweens and Maddie's body being out there somewhere for her to slip back in to. Simon's ability explained why he'd dragged you to the bus stop on Tuesday. Why he'd asked you about seeing ghosts. It also explained why Wally had believed Simon wasn't like you and couldn't see what you could see.

Did you know about Simon? Had you simply played dumb last night? No. Wally knew in his bones that you'd have told him if you'd thought Simon could see Maddie. So, aside from Charley, did anyone else know about Simon? Fuck, aside from Ajay, did anyone else know about you!?

It was a game of Clue Wally didn't want to play. Did the person have a hidden cache of money? Did the person know about magic and ghosts and astral projection? Did the person ever use a service road to stalk a teenage girl? Was it Professor Plum in the boiler room with a wrench!?

How many players were sitting on secrets?

Thump. Thump. Smack.

That was the thing, wasn't it? Everyone on the board had a secret. You and Wally. Mr. Anderson. Xavier and his sidepiece. Maddie and Simon. Even Ajay, for fucksakes. And now Charley.

Unlike Rhonda, who was most likely coping on the roof with a pack of Ms. Fields' smokes and Mrs. Arsenault's contraband bottle of wine, Wally couldn't fault Charley for recommending that Maddie not tell anyone about Simon. Not just that it would make Wally a hypocrite, but because Wally had seen Simon. Exhausted and paranoid and scared. A boy who'd been charged with the responsibility of solving his best friend's murder by said best friend.

Wally didn't know what had motivated Charley to keep things on the DL, however, Wally finally understood the gravity of your family's Golden Rule.

It was something Wally had heard Rhonda spit at Charley before he'd been bowled over by the paingriefterror of your panic attack: "You just want to keep him all to yourself so you can talk to Emilio, am I right?" Wally wondered vaguely if Rhonda would regret having said that, no matter how much sense it'd made.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

Simon and Maddie's connection represented a way to reach out from the beyond. Not only for Maddie, but for all the trapped souls in her vicinity. Simon would be run ragged trying to explain the unexplainable: "Don't ask how," He'd have to say, "but here's a message from your dead son/daughter/friend/husband..." And fuck, okay, yes, Wally would spend an eternity in Hell to keep you from that, even if it meant losing his friends.

Or, alternatively, if it meant never seeking you out again; never speaking to you, never touching you—Wally's punches landed harder as images of Xavier holding you close flashed through his mind. Tight, vicious bursts of jealousy that spun the bag in wide sways on its chain.

Wally didn't hate him, but he sure as hell wished Xavier would break both elbows before contracting a chronic case of head lice. The guy was a deadbeat who'd probably never had to face the consequences of his stupid decisions because Officer Daddy had always bailed him out. More likely to abandon you for a new toy than protect you from the monsters like you trusted him to.

It drove Wally fucking crazy that you didn't see it. That, according to you, Xavier was the best thing since sliced bread. Wally had seen how you'd found comfort in Xavier's arms. How you'd gone all pliant and soft for him, molding into his side as if he'd created that space just for you. When, in reality, Xavier was the asshole who'd sought out some peppy, rah-rah pick me to get his dick wet because Maddie hadn't put out. The guy who'd stolen Maddie's phone to delete his mistakes the day she'd been cornered in the boiler room by someone with a grudge.

Xavier hadn't been there for Maddie, and he wouldn't be there for you. Thump. Not always. Thump. Not how you truly believed he would be there for you. Thump. Not how Wally would be there.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. SMACK.

The bag swung violently from the momentum of Wally's last punch, almost knocking him back a few steps when he caught it. He pressed his head against the leather, panting, sweat dripping from his hairline to his chin.

All at once, the anger and jealousy he'd been trying to assuage erupted out of him in a desperate, wild howl.

"FUCK~!"

He punched the bag again, over and over, harder and harder, damp hair matted, sweat stinging his eyes. Hitting a face that wasn't there until it was bloody and mangled, and Wally was spent.

"Whoa there, Rambo, maybe take it down a notch."

Wally stilled the bag with his hands and once more pressed his forehead against it, unwilling to turn around and look at Rhonda just yet.

"You mean Rocky." Wally corrected through labored breaths. She smelt like cigarettes and that Tweed Lentheric perfume she'd died with. Spring earth and chemical ash. "Rambo's the jungle, Rocky's the Eye of the Tiger."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-o. Stallone doesn't exactly have range," She snided, taking a seat on the bench Wally had thrown his jacket over. "What's got you in a mood? And don't tell me it's about Charley. You wouldn't stay mad at him if he'd strangled your childhood dog with his bare hands."

Wally flinched, "That's...descriptive." He turned and regarded her with a put-off expression, "And Charley would never do that." Charley wouldn't even try to hurt someone's feelings. Sure, he armored himself with snark and sarcasm, but Charley was the most empathetic person Wally knew.

Rhonda shrugged, glaring at nothing as she sat in her sulk. Her lips were stained purple from the wine, eyes a little glossy, posture more relaxed than Wally had seen in a long time. Although she still seemed to have an axe to grind, her party-of-one on the roof had served to mellow her somewhat. No longer vibrating with rage as she had been when Wally had left her and Charley at the bus stop.

"So?" Rhonda asked, blunt, "Why are you beating the crap out of that thing?"

Wally used the bottom of his shirt to mop the sweat from his face, taking his time to decide what to say. There were too many landmines; things he couldn't tell her if he didn't want her knowing just how much he and Charley had in common when it came to keeping her in the dark.

"Thinking about talking to the living reminded me of Gary—" Xavier. "and Jenny—" You. "and everything that went down after Homecoming." Except you weren't going to weep about your dead boyfriend in Xavier's arms and then proceed to make out with Xavier under the bleachers. In front of Wally. "Just. How much I wish I'd had someone to beat the shit out of Z—Gary on my behalf, you know?"

Rhonda peered at him like an optical illusion, narrowed eyes and determination, like she could solve him if she looked hard enough. For a moment, Wally was worried she would. Or, at the very least, she'd make a guess so close to the truth, Wally would have to do something drastic to avoid answering.

Thankfully, he didn't have to as Rhonda stood—a little wobbly—and crossed her arms, hip cocked and brows knitted, "I get it." She looked up at him, focus suddenly sharp as a tack, "I wish I'd had someone to put a bullet between Mr. Manfredo's eyes on my behalf." Her expression slackened into something distant and deeply sad that made Wally's gut roll with guilt.

Wally swallowed, nodded, "Yeah," he said, sounding a bit winded as he leveled his gaze on his sneakers. "I wish that, too."

"Alright, fuck this pity party." Rhonda announced, grabbing Wally's jacket and tossing it at him, "Let's go see if Mr. Mueller still has that bottle of whiskey in his desk."

Snickering, "Because that's so much better," Wally trailed after her. When he stepped out of the weight room and into the corridor, the pits and back of his shirt felt instantly drier. Modest resets were fucking mindboggling but also came in clutch in situations like this, when he didn't have the chance to hit the showers.

Rhonda took her time up the stairs, pace quickly going from sluggish to sober as they entered the main floor. That was something Wally enjoyed about being dead: No hangovers. Their systems reset so quickly, it didn't matter how much they drank, the effects wouldn't last longer than thirty minutes, tops. Oh the fun they'd had (under Mr. Martin's nose, of course).

As Wally was getting into the idea of sharing the whiskey with Rhonda, he spotted a particular someone down the hall to his right, leaned against the lockers outside the classroom Wally had escorted you from earlier.

He wouldn't have bothered to stop, Rhonda certainly wasn't going to, except that—

"Hurry up, Clark, Mueller locks his desk before he leaves," Rhonda said, turning around to walk back toward Wally where he stood at the T intersection of the two hallways.

Distracted, "Yeah, be right there..." Wally answered even as he shifted his body to completely face Simon.

Simon. Who fidgeted with his thumb, in deep concentration as he waited for something Wally wasn't aware of. Casually looked up and down the hallway to give himself something to do.

"I'll go get it myself if you'd rather examine the freakshow," Rhonda said, only slightly nasty.

After she abandoned Wally, there was no one else around. No one and nothing to grab attention, though that would change in a minute when final classes were dismissed at the bell.

And yet...for a solid few seconds...

Simon's gaze fell on Wally and stayed there.

💀___________________________

PART EIGHTEEN - PART TWENTY

also available on AO3!

[the-autistic-vulcan]

Green-Eyed Monster: Headcanons/Fic (Margot!Barbie x F!Reader) @barbiegirlharleyquinn

Request: Hi! Can I please request a Margot Robbie Barbie x fem! Reader where she’s dating Ken but this is around the time Barbie starts getting un-Barbie-like thoughts so she experiences jealousy?

Genre: Fluff; slight angst

warnings: jealousy

Description: Barbie as been feeling weird things lately, she mainly ignores them, but this time she can't - especially since Ken is getting a little too friendly

a/n: Reader is a Beach Barbie; i didn't do the actual dating thing

Barbie has not been feeling very...Barbie lately...

Flat feet, Cold showers, sour milk, burnt waffles and spontaneous thoughts of death have been clouding her

She doesn't feel like herself, but nothing short of a smile can't fix, right?

She's walking on the beach and sees you, surfing waves, with your hot pink surfer board, your green and pink two piece swimsuit and your lime green shades

"Hi, Barbie!"

"Hi, Barbie..."

"What's wrong, girl? You look...not smiley..."

She genuinely appreciated you, not just any Barbie, but you, cared about her

In truth, she's like-liked you for a really long time, and any time with you was spent laughing and talking each other through problems in this 'perfect world'.

"I haven't been feeling...right? I don't know...Cold showers, burnt breakfast...death thoughts..."

"Hmm, odd...I'm sure it's nothing too serious, right?"

Barbie and you keep talking and an occasional laugh is shared - even her cheeks were more pink than your surfboard

And then Ken shows up...

~~~~~~~~~

"Hi, Barbies!" He says, with a smile.

"Hi, Ken!" You and Barbie say simultaneously. He then approaches the both of you, places his surfer board down. He then turns to you.

"So, uh, Barbie, do you believe in love at first sight?" He asks, you're a little baffled by the question, but you wait for him to continue. "Or, should I swim by again to make sure?"

You and Ken laugh and tease each other, much to Barbie's sudden dislike. Suddenly she feels an odd feeling in her stomach - the way you're smiling at Ken, the way you twirl your hair when he's teasing you, your contagious laugh and how you fiddle with your fingers when talking to him - all of this is...new...she doesn't like it, but she feels it, rather intensely in fact.

Soon, Ken's beach buddies call him over. "Oh, well, I gotta go. Catch the waves, Barbie!" He runs off.

"Catch the waves, Ken!" You call back. "Right, now where were we-" You then notice Barbie's stare, she's looking at Ken, but not endearingly, more like...not-so-endearingly.

"Barbie, are you okay?" You ask.

"Hm? Oh, sorry, so sorry...I thought you were, hmm, talking to Ken..." She sounded off about the whole thing.

"Barbie, you don't really think-"

"I see the way you look at him...all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, giggling at his jokes and his silly smirk."

"Barbie," You take her hand in yours, "Ken and I are not a thing...I'm perfectly deserving on my own." You assure her. "Besides, Ken is not my type - he's too...Ken."

You both laugh and chuckle over Ken at his expense, never would something that silly come between you two.

"So, what do I do about...everything wrong happening?"

"I think we may need to pay Weird Barbie a visit."

----------------------------------------------------

Any requests, please drop them in my inbox!

Please like and reblog! Do not pass as your own.

[savshaikyuu]

                       𝙎𝙐𝘽𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

Hi, if you're comfortable can you make NSFW headcannons for denki, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and if possible on another post during any point in time for ushijima, daichi, and kags. Could the read be female and dark skin also I'm not sure if you include body weight but could she be chubby. And for the denki and daichi one could you put in spitting and biting if you're comfortable of course. This is my first request so sorry if it's too long but I read your terms and wanted to try to be as detailed as possible while trying to make it make sense and could you keep me anonymous. Have a great day!

Ushijima | Daichi | Kageyama x Dark Skin!Chubby!〚FEM〛Reader

warning(s): sexual content, multiple positions, spitting kink, biting kink, roleplaying kink, established relationship.

read more: bnha ver.

a/n: woooo okay 3rd haikyuu work! and this request was actually perfect? like this is an example of how detailed but not excessive a request could be hahaha so no worries! so sorry for taking forever my love. and to clarify yes this is their time skip adult selves. thank you, anon!

USHIJIMA

PLEASEEEEE the way this man will handle you so fuckin' easily. he doesn't need to brag or tease, he has so much dominance when he does it, it's INSANE.

Ushijima is such a big fan of fucking you when he's standing.

like he loves the fact that he can hold you up and have you clinging to him as he fucks you good.

the position also gives him the nice chance to look at the way his fingers squeeze your chub, loving how your body just effortlessly molds to his.

loves to give you lots of sloppy kisses and is one to be in between your thighs like clockwork. </3

your thighs has to be his favorite part of you high-key low-key if you know what I mean,,,

he literally avoids positions where your legs aren't wrapped around him and or can't see your face.

you're a whole package deal he doesn't want to miss out on, plus he loves the way you grab at him during sessions where he really toys with you.

if he does do anything with your back facing towards him, it doesn't last for long.

he so in love with you he wants to see (and hear you) enjoy every second of it.

DAICHI

Daichi is the type of guy to be at your mercy no matter the shape.

although he does like seeing you ride him. that is an immediate 10s across the boards for him.

regular cowgirl or reversed it doesn't matter, he just likes seeing you work yourself on his cock and the light layer of sweat that dews your skin because of it.

is a fan of licking you up and biting the places he feels. there's no rhyme or rhythm at all.

it's almost like when he's making love with you he just goes by whatever his brain says next.

bite her thigh? okay. spit on her cunt before demolishing it? sounds perfect.

as long you both know your limits, you two are so very raw and open to each other.

it's literally like… mindless.

just seamlessly into each other and enjoying the moment.

it's what he loves you best in moments like that. <3

KAGEYAMA

he has a bit of a… role-playing thing to be honest.

like Kageyama wants to see you in his fan jerseys and like, fuck you in them.

you being his biggest fan in daily platonic life is what keeps him going, but you playing a part of being like an excited groupie is what keeps his cock up jjfchdfhh

sorry you cannot convince me he wouldn't be into that. 😭

like he definitely outgrew his ego… but when it comes to you?? he's the MAN!

he feels as though when you guys do stuff like that he's relieving his best moments in a different way.

feels like you understand him and doesn't shame him.

if there's ever anything you want him to do to he is 100% super willing to do it too.

does not mind at all because of his much you have done for him. :')

unexpectedly sweet ik but like the fact he doesn't have to feel ashamed or hide kinks makes him so open and relieved to be around you!

usually when he's feeling extra greatful, he fucks you harder with a bit more kisses and passion.

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