#i mean am i supposed to read ? yes ! do i ? no ❤️

[aeolianblues]

pop stars aren't born in the 70s anymore like they used to be. These days they're born in a year uncomfortably close to my own which makes me clutch my chest and cry out

[bibleofficial]

arguably this is worse

[jobean12-blog]

A Stolen Moment

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: The General has been busy as of late and you miss him.

Author's Note: I can't exist without being horny over this man...they post a new picture of him sitting down and I'm like OH WELL- now I need to sit in his lap, kneel between his legs and do all these other filthy things because his legs and hands and thighs exist. UGH. I mean how am I supposed to survive this, he can't even sit in a chair without me losing my mind...guess I have to write out the horny. LOL anyway, thanks for listening to my rants and thanks so much for reading, much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnigns: soft sweetness, tension, teasing, semi-public sex (I mean it is the Colosseum), Marcus is perfection.

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

The rare quiet of the arena is almost unsettling, the usual raucous crowd nonexistent and the commanding power it exudes masked under the veil of darkness that slowly settles with the descending sun.

The imperial box is empty and the gilded seat on which you sit grows cold as you wait. The fabric you wear is different from anything you’ve ever worn before and perhaps different from anything that’s been created yet.

Due to tradition, you’ve been trained in the art of sewing and because of this you were able to make the silk garment that’s currently draped seductively over your body. You know your husband will approve, however, how he will react to you wearing it in such a public place, is an entirely different story.

The silk is layered, giving the illusion of coverage, but even in the dimness of the setting sun, you can see the outline of what teases beneath.

Heavy footsteps echo behind you, and you recognize the steady pace of his feet.

He walks slowly up the steps, dressed in his more formal toga, outlined in gold that glints as it catches the dying light.

His eyes find you and he stops.

“My gods wife.”

A heated smile starts at the corner of his mouth and lazily stretches across the other as he peruses you from head to toe.

“I’m not forgetting some celebration today am I?”

You shake your head and stand, walking over to him.

“No, nothing to celebrate today. Just you.”

He stills, his eyes lowering to sweep down your body. “Me?”

“Yes,” you say. “You’ve been too stressed lately. I want to help.”

“I see,” he says with sparkling eyes. “And you thought displaying yourself…so… temptingly… in one of the most coveted seats of the Colosseum was going to help?”

You run your hands up his chest to the buckle near his left shoulder. Loosening it, you continue, “I know how to best help you relax General and I knew this would get your attention.”

“You always have my full attention,” he whispers.

You smile, knowing the truth his words hold.

He looks you over again then reaches up to drag the calloused pad of his thumb over your bottom lip.

Normally you might kiss it. Tonight, you bite down. He pulls back with a little gasp.

“You’re irresistible.”         

His hands slide forward and frame your hips, and he pulls you into his chest, running his nose along your neck with an inhale.

“What do you plan to do with me?” he whispers into your skin.

You push his hands away and slide off his cloak.

“I’m glad you asked.”

Your fingers fall to his belt, and you start to loosen it, remaining silent.

“Well?” he asks with an amused smile.

“Whatever I want,” you say simply, your hands deftly pulling the belt from his waist.

“I suppose I’m at your mercy then.”

With a tilt of your head, you step back. “Take off your tunic.”

He holds your gaze, testing your restraint, before he relents and gives you what you want.

Slowly, he pulls the fabric off, and you struggle to keep your attention on his face, knowing that every inch of the skin he’s revealing will distract you.

When he begins to loosen the fabric at his hips you’re unable to resist reaching forward and running your hands lightly down his chest. His breath hitches and you love it, skin tightening beneath your fingertips.

He toys with the material again, and you can tell he’s teasing you, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

“Keep going,” you tell him.

The undergarment falls to his feet and it’s all you can do to not slide down to your knees and take him into your mouth.

But somehow, you manage to resist, even as he reaches down, circles his large hand around his cock and holds it out as an offering.

When he starts to remove the first of his wrist cuffs, you still his hand. He raises a questioning brow, and you demurely smile.

“Leave those.”

You push lightly on his chest, toward the ornate chair he found you in. “Sit.”

He does as you say, and you follow him, straddling his thick thighs.

“I miss my husband,” you say with a pout. “You’ve been busy, and your attention has been elsewhere lately.”

You see his expression soften at your words before the corners of his mouth turn down.

“You know you’re all that matters…”

You press a finger to his lips to silence him.

“I’m not blaming you General. I’m just taking matters into my own hands…taking what I want.”  

You rest your ass on his thighs and then slide forward, giving his cock the briefest bit of friction against you before you move away again.

Beneath your palms, his shoulders bunch and he lifts his hands to touch you.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Or I’ll bind you.”

“Does it make you wet to take control like this my beloved?” he whispers.

You answer with the slide of your hand between your legs, the slip of your fingers under the silk. Your eyes close and you moan quietly as you touch yourself, rolling your hips.

You can hear his breath hitch and feel the muscles of his thighs flex and strain. Pulling your fingers away, you capture his chin with your free hand and paint a wet line along his upper lip.

He groans, pained and gravelly and you look down to see his cock hard and arching up toward his belly button.

Your mouth waters. “Marcus.”

He hums but doesn’t move and you look up to see him lick his lips, tasting you on his skin. Staring intently at you, he pushes his hips up, his cock a heavy presence between you as you gaze at his face.

“Are you feeling more relaxed?” you ask him as you lean forward and kiss his jaw.

“Tortured, might be a better word my love.”

You can see it in the way his pulse flutters in his throat and you press a steady hand to his chest.

He relaxes in pieces: his legs beneath you first, then his abdomen, shoulders and finally his expression.

“That’s better,” you murmur.

With a deep exhale he lifts his hands, the gesture tentative as he slowly reaches for your shoulder and traces the soft curve with his fingertips.

“I think it’s time I take what I want,” you remind him.

You lean forward and kiss along his neck all the way up to his ear and he huffs out an impatient breath. Every muscle grows tight and urgent beneath your roaming hands as you tease him once more.

Faster than you expect, he grabs you by the hips and jerks you forward, sliding the wetness between your legs over his cock and griding up into you with a groan.

Without thinking, you move with him, rocking on top and feeling the hard press of him against your clit.

“I can feel your need for me soaked through the silk,” he hisses.

You tug the silk fabric from your body and let it drape over the large and elaborate seat. In a blur, he pulls you closer and pushes inside you with a steady, hard thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, then stops, his breath choppy so close to your ear as he kisses your neck and sucks gently. “I can’t control myself.”

You open your mouth to speak but all the comes out is a moan when his large hand cups your breast, thumb passing back and forth over the peak.

His tongue slides over your collarbone, his breath, his fingertips across your skin and he begins to move inside you.

“You tease and taunt me wife…it’s impossible for me to let you play out this fantasy of control.”

A curl falls over his forehead and he looks almost boyish, but his words are coarse, and his movements are powerful.

“Next time I will bind you then,” you say, the words breathless.

He growls out your name, digging his fingers into your skin with his barely controlled restraint.

You feel the rush of blood to your legs and the heavy ache between your thighs build and he grows more and more frantic. He uses your hips for leverage, his grip bruising as he slams up and into you over and over.

One large, rough hand ghosts along your stomach and teases the base of your neck before his fingers close around your throat.

This new sensation brings you to the edge until you’re begging for it. His groan vibrates along your skin, his whispered words of love pushing you over until you tighten around his cock and cry out his name.

Your face falls to the crook of his neck, and he wraps his arms around you, cradling you to his chest. Your heavy breathing is in sync, your sweaty skin pressed close while he gently runs his fingers along the curve of your spine.

“I am sorry,” he whispers into your skin. “I know there has been much that keeps me away from you as of late.”

You lift your face and place your palm against his cheek. Your fingertips trace the lines around his eyes before you dip your head and softly kiss his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips.

“I know Marcus. I know.”

He reaches his hands between your arms and frames your face, holding your gaze intently with the soft brush of his fingers.

“My love for you remains and always will be as infinite as the stars.”

[lavshaze]

❤️ | Beautiful thing

Continuation to terrible thing, but can be read as a stand-alone, I'm terribly sorry this took so long, I'm starting to think writing silco smut is my destiny and I should just drop out and do this 24/7

✧ contains ⤐ continuation of the wet dream shenanigans, so naturally also smut! finger sucking and fucking, oral (female receiving), missionary, a lot of feelings, like the yearning truly hits its climax (but so do both of them so it's alright), oh and lovely tween jinx is there at the beginning <3 w.c. ~ 7.7k (big boy)

It’s around 7:35 when you reach The Last Drop. 

You could blame it on the amount of time you spent in the shower, staring at the tiled floor and trying to get over the visions you had, but you weren’t going to tell Silco any of that. ‘I almost got robbed’ sounds a lot nicer and just as believable. 

You’re greeted with ear-splitting music the minute you walk through the door, a usual for the club, especially at this hour. It was only getting started and was probably going to be a lot worse by the time you leave. You pull your jacket tighter around yourself as you scan the crowd of faceless dancing bodies, looking for your possible silver line for tonight, a tall and strong woman who you’d actually pay to come up to Silco’s office and bully you just for this night. 

You visibly deflate when you don’t catch sight of her in her usual spots, not playing poker nor flirting at the bar. All you can see is a lot of sweaty people and a lot of shimmer being passed around. You do, however, spot Ran by the pool table, and you place her in your mind as your backup plan. 

Fortunately for Ran, your favorite blue haired devil is at your side the minute you open the door to his office. 

“Jinx!” 

You yelp out her name in equal parts excitement and surprise. Her hug attack nearly knocks you off your feet, if it weren’t for the door frame you’d managed to hold on to. You can’t help the grin that spreads on your face at the eagerness; the poor girl is stuck with a monologuing villain as a father all day, it’s probably a relief to see you, a normal human being who doesn’t glower and speak in riddles.

“Hello, Jinx.” You fondly run your fingers through the hair at the top of her head. She turns her head to look up at you, pearly whites exposed in a wide grin. “I missed you, sweet girl.”

She's grown taller over the past few months, now tall enough to reach your chest when she hugs you, but she's still as lanky as the day you found her. Or, well, the day Silco found her. She was smaller back then, but just as skinny. You look at the man who took her in, deeply immersed in whatever document is stressing him out tonight— looking just as malnourished as she does— and it all makes sense. 

“I've been waiting for you all day,” comes the squeaky whine from below, demanding your undivided attention. “Silco is so busy, he doesn't have the time to check out my new paintball gun, which is really lame, because this one has explosives!”

At the mention of his name, the man looks up from the troubling piece of paper. He stares at you for a minute, eye adjusting to the sight of another human being, then begrudgingly places the wretched document down on the desk and pushes the chair back to stand. 

“You're here.” 

You smile, absentmindedly petting the girl attached to your waist, “yes, I am. Did you not hear me talking just now?” 

He reaches for his glass of bourbon, three melting ice cubes in a nearly empty cup, “I did. I wasn't quite sure if you were a figment of my imagination or not.” 

Your smile almost slips into something sinister, all the nervousness from before suddenly escaping your body, “what, you have fantasies about me?” It’s so easy to slip back into the subtle flirtatious routine, the light comments that aren’t supposed to mean much to either of you. The earth-shattering dream almost seems like a silly thought now that you’re here, in his office, breathing in the air that’s tinted by him in every way. 

It’s Silco. Things didn’t have to change between the two of you, you could always just enjoy purgatory. 

He looks at you from atop the rim of his glass, a flicker of a smile on his face, “only when I'm at my wit's end.” 

The moment ends there, if only to protect Jinx. 

He makes his way around the desk to settle on the couch, leaning back and finishing up his drink. You observe the way his hands curl around the glass, how he crosses one slender leg over the other, and bite down on your lip like a voyeur— always watching through the glass, never having the chance to lay your hands on the merchandise. 

Jinx detaches from your waist and goes over to sit next to him, thankfully pulling you out of the slightly unpleasant thoughts you were having. He puts his arm out, and she automatically goes for a side hug. You smile to yourself, watching The Eye of Zaun growing softer around the edges at the hands of the blue haired menace never gets old. 

You sit beside her on the couch, and she draws you into countless conversations. Reminiscing the past week, telling you about the progress she's been making with the explosives/paintball gun, and how she's already tried it on Sevika a couple times— ‘Jinx, that's not nice’ ‘it's sevika, she doesn't deserve nice!’ — and retelling a particularly funny bar fight that she witnessed.

While she’s explaining the process she went through to implement the explosives into a harmless toy gun, your eyes flicker back to the man at her side. He’s leaning back, craning his neck to look at the ceiling, and you take the chance to admire his side profile. Enhanced by the dim light of his desk lamp, the curve of his nose is particularly alluring at the moment. From his nose to his charming overbite to the strands of hair that fall to the side as a result of a long exhausting day, you sneak subtle glances at him, as much as you can without getting caught. 

But you know, in your heart of hearts, that he must be aware of your burning gaze on the side of his face. And you know, when he turns his head slightly to lock eyes with you, that the look he gives you is just as loaded and dangerous as this little game you were playing.

“..anyways, I’d really like to show you the gun now.” 

Your attention falls back to the child nestled between the two of you, big blue eyes blinking innocently at you. You know she’s not clueless, and you know she’s probably sick of you playing eye games with her father when she’s right there. 

“Of course, honey. Silco?” 

He removes his arm from around her, adjusting his position so his body is drawn away from yours. Huh, funny. You hadn’t noticed how much it was angled towards you until now. 

Jinx sighs in relief the minute the two of you are out of the door and you can’t help but laugh.

“Jinx.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it’s impossible to be in the same room with the two of you without you making kissy eyes at each other!” 

Thankfully, you’re far enough down the hall to know Silco wouldn’t hear that. “We do not make kissy eyes at each other.” 

She stops, turns to give you an unamused look, then turns back around and continues walking. 

You follow her down to the basement, where she pulls out her magnificent invention. She shoots it far enough away so neither of you get impacted and you’re thankful to see that the explosions are more like fireworks than actual big booms. You’re proud of her and you tell her as much, she practically glows at the praise.

But then her smile drops and she sighs dramatically— the spitting image of her father when it comes to dramatics, how are they not blood related— “if only things could always be like this…” 

You frown, “like what?” 

“You and me, having fun, no Silco.” 

The statement is so jarring that it pulls a stunned laugh out of you, and Jinx grins, proud of herself. “Kidding! I like him too, I just wish you two would stop your secret messages.”

“Secret messages?” 

She nods, “the ones you communicate with your eyes. I wanna be in on those conversations too!” 

You smile. She definitely does not want to be in on those conversations, but you'd preserve what was left of her innocence. 

“So, Jinx,” you lean down to be on her level, “what do you wanna do next?” 

You watch as all thoughts of those secret conversations practically vanish from her head, replaced with much more important things, like visiting Jericho’s stall. 

When you make your way back to Silco’s office, it’s with a lot more food than you left with. Jinx is happily satisfied with the meal that she had at the stall, but she carries the extra food bags like ammo. She was nice enough to consider leaving some of it for her dear father. 

To your disappointment though, the office is empty. You think maybe something came up and he had to take care of it, as it often happens, and you feel a little relieved that maybe you’ll get to end the night here and postpone the sensual torture he puts you through to a later time, when you're not so hormonal. As you’re about to back up into the hallway to ask the standing guard of his whereabouts, you feel a pair of hands on your hips, holding you in place.

“Careful,” Silco leans forward to speak the words right into your ear, “it’s awfully rude to cause such an injury to your host.” He’s not even whispering, he just always uses that tone. 

His hands are gone from your hips as fast as they’d been placed there, and you almost mourn the loss. But the sight of Jinx’s knowing, bored expression diverts your attention back to the girl. 

Right, no kissy eyes. 

“Jericho’s?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. Jinx nods and rushes to place the remaining food on the coffee table, “we got some for you too!” 

“How nice of you, Jinx. Unfortunately, I’m rather full at the moment so I must postpone such an appetizing meal to a later time.” You note the smell of smoke in the air, he definitely had his meal of the night. “In the meantime, I think we should be getting you to bed.” 

Jinx groans, “already? But she just got here! I barely get to spend time with her.” 

You put an arm around her shoulder, “I’ll come by earlier on Monday if you go to bed on time right now.” She moves to wrap her arms around you for a final time, looking up at you with glossy blue eyes, “you promise?” 

“I do,” you plant a kiss on her forehead. 

Silco extends a hand and she takes it, small fingers engulfed in his much larger one. She waves at you as he guides her outside his office, down to her bedroom, you wave back as they slip out the door. This leaves you in the dim office alone. 

You saunter over to the couch and mindlessly drape yourself over the cushions, your head occupied with the inevitable decision you’re facing now. You either make up an excuse to leave early, one that he’d know better than to believe, or stay and put up with more hidden innuendos and dark, poorly masked looks. It’s not that you’re not used to it, or that it’s a new development, but rather the fact that you’ve come to the harrowing realization that whatever you felt for him ran deeper than you anticipated. It had been bubbling in your chest, threatening to overflow like a boiling kettle on a stove, and the final straw— the thing that truly pushed you over the edge— was that dream. 

And it's not the fact that it was dirty, you've had those about him before, and consequently, you’d learned to brush them off as wild fantasies. It happened once in a dream kind of deal, you weren’t going to get hung up over the possibilities of those thoughts ever coming to fruition. The problem with this particular dream was how romantic it was— the heated gaze in his reflection, the appreciative scan of your body, gods, just the feeling of him inside you. You weren’t fucking that man, you were making love to him. 

The thought is so cliche it makes you gag, but that look in his eyes when he was watching you in the mirror, your unconscious brain was endlessly cruel to make it look like he held such love for you. The longing, the monstrous yearning that dream instilled in you was dangerous. It planted a feeling inside your chest that now threatens to split it open if you're not careful. 

You're not blind to possibilities, there's a chance that Silco shares the sentiment and you're not in this mess entirely alone; but you're also aware that he's extremely mission oriented, and he probably wouldn't consider the prospect of something serious with you as long as Zaun wasn't free. It’s something you respect him for, never losing sight of his goals, you just wish it didn't make him nearly unattainable.

Because gods above, you'd love to attain him. 

It’s a thought that’s been brewing in the back of your mind since you first met. Three years ago, a much more distressed version of yourself was too tipsy to feel endangered by his presence at one of the less frequented bars. Back when Vander was in charge, you didn't know who Silco was or the implications of what had happened between them. All you knew was that this strange man had a sexy scar and his eye kinda glowed in the dark, and that made your alcohol-addled brain see stars.  

To this day, you aren’t quite sure what about your slurred conversation skills made him tolerate you enough to listen to you all night. You’ve suspected it was the loneliness he was dealing with at the time, and you were likely his least dangerous form of entertainment, or maybe he thought you were pretty and perhaps much more charming when sober. It’s probably the second one.

But that's how your unconventional friendship started, chance encounters in small bars. He was always able to find you alone and you were never sure how he did it but you didn't really mind. Where you found your curiosities being satisfied every time he shared something about himself, he found someone willing to share the burden with him. Eventually, you learned about Vander and what actually happened between them. The river, the betrayal, the blood; the respect you'd had for Vander soured into distaste, and turned into borderline hatred when you learned of the deal he had with the enforcers. 

Things were progressing quickly though, and it wasn't long before Vander was out of the picture. The Hound had been overpowered by The Eye, and that's when you met Jinx for the first time, hysterical and wailing in Silco’s arms. Powder, they used to call her, peculiarly fitting for the girl who had crumbled in your hold that night. You held her until the screaming ceased and the three of you fell asleep on the couch. 

That's when your relationship with Silco started changing, getting much more intimate. That night where Silco discovered just how useful you could be with Jinx, that was the first domino in a long line that led up to this moment, to the present where you were fighting tooth and nail against the feelings that were threatening to suffocate you. 

The sound of the door unlocking pulls you out of your thoughts, the object of your suffering walks in. 

“Drink?” He walks over to the bar cart.

You shake your head, “actually, Silco, I'm thinking of going home early today.” 

He pours himself some whiskey and doesn't look up at you, “oh, were you now?” He takes a slow, agonizing sip of his drink before he speaks again, “anything important?”  

You smile in spite of yourself, “not really, just tired.” 

He looks up from his drink, two mismatched eyes settling on your frame. His gaze travels down your body, assessing you as if you were one of the chembarons working under him. But under that scrutinizing gaze, you catch embers of something else, something dark and seductive, something that looks a lot like desire. 

Your face burns. 

“I guess I shall not keep you then.” He turns, walking over to his desk, “I wouldn't want to distract you from such important appointments.” 

He settles back in his chair and is almost immediately immersed in work again. You envy him for being so focused, knowing that if you go home now you'll just keep yourself awake thinking about him. You watch his fingers grasp the pen that he puts to paper and feel yourself grow light-headed, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you had to go home and sit with your thoughts while all he touches is paperwork. You wanted him to touch you, put you out of your misery. 

You stand but make no move towards the door, instead making your way over to him. He doesn't look up when you pass by, walking over to the grand window that highlights the main wall of the office. You'd always been fascinated by it, the color was certainly a choice, and in daylight it looks mystifying. Right now, it's dark enough for you to catch your reflection, you pretend to adjust your hair. 

“You don't really want to leave, do you?” 

He doesn't move, doesn't turn in his chair. You know he can't see the gesture but you shake your head, “I don't know.” 

“Is there something you'd like to tell me?” 

Your body feels a tad too warm for comfort. 

“I don't know.” 

He discards his work with a sigh. Your lips curl in amusement, knowing that whenever you’re around, he’s too distracted to get any actual work done.

You watch as his reflection comes up behind yours, the heat in your body intensifies in response to the glowing glare of his dark eye. You know he's aware of the effect he has on you, and you know he does it on purpose. You wonder if he's ever haunted with thoughts of you the way you are of him, you wonder if he ever has dirty dreams about you. 

“Has something happened?” 

You shake your head. 

“Is someone threatening you?”

You shake your head again and laugh, of course that's what he would ask. 

“Look at me.” 

You don't have it in you to resist, especially when he's using that tone. You turn around, coming face to face with his narrowed eyes, sea green and charcoal eyes looking back at you. It’s difficult to miss the hint of concern that you’ve become accustomed to recognizing over the years. 

“What's on your mind, dove?” 

Your heart sings at the pet name and your lips curl bashfully, “I can't say it.” 

“Can't you?” His eyes trail down to your lips, “you can tell me anything.” 

In theory, you can. In theory, you have, ever since you first met and you'd spilled way too much about yourself to him, and that leap of faith is exactly how you ended up here. Standing in front of the man who holds your heart so firmly, unable to reach out and touch him, unable to have more than a small part of him. 

He draws closer, too close. 

“No, Sil. I'm afraid I can't this time,” your voice comes out soft, strained, “I'm afraid I have to leave before I do something stupid.” 

He pays no mind to your statement, hands reaching up to cup your face, rough fingertips contradicting the gentle nature of the act. Your eyes gloss over, the spark you've been feeling erupts into wild flames that threaten to consume your whole being. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone with such care that it makes your chest squeeze. Expression unreadable, he observes your face carefully; when his thumb skirts the outline of your lips, your breath catches in your throat.

You part your lips slightly and something inside him understands the silent communication. Something else throbs.

Experimentally, he brushes his thumb over your lips, appreciating the rough texture of the chewed skin. He watches as you open your mouth wider in invitation, assessing the situation before he pushes his thumb past your lips and right into the wetness of your oral cavity. Your mouth closes around him, careful not to bite, as you stare back into his observant eyes.

His breath hitches, pupil of the good eye blowing wider, as he watches you take his finger to the hilt. You think this must be another cruel trick from the gods, another wet dream that you're going to wake up from in frustration, but the feeling of his finger against your soft, wet tongue is unmistakable.

You’re not sure what this means, for you or your relationship with him, but you’re sure that it’s happening and you feel the need to savor what you can. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, thumb caressing the inside of his hand as your eyelids grow heavier. 

For a moment, the world stops. For a moment, all you can think about is how he tastes in your mouth, and flashes of the wicked dream you had only a few hours before run through your mind. Weeks of filthy thoughts push at you to do more, to ask for more of him, but you’re insistent on taking it slow, on memorizing every little gesture, just in case you never experience it again. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

You hum around his finger. The tent in his pants may be a visual representation of the effect you have on him, but you’re feeling rather greedy. 

“Surely, you must, or else, you wouldn't walk into this office with such pride, so confident knowing that you've got me wrapped around your finger.” Your lips curl into a smile around his finger and he scoffs in amusement, “happy to know that you're my weakness, aren't you?” 

He removes his finger and you're left to think about the implications of a ‘weakness’. A soft spot, a passion, a sweetness, a hazard, an obstacle, a problem. Did Silco see you as a problem? And most importantly, as you look into hungry, lustful eyes, does he care about that right now? 

You can't help the hand that comes up to grasp at his vest in desperation, you can't help the frantic need to keep him close while you can, to touch him for as long as he deems himself touchable. You can't help the force that makes you pull him closer to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss, and you can't help the shiver that runs through your body when he kisses you back with just as much force. 

He tastes like the cigar that you knew he was having earlier, sweetened by the taste of whiskey still in his mouth. The contact overwhelms your senses, unable to process anything besides how he tastes, how he smells, how he feels. 

He backs you up against the window so your burning hot skin is pressed against the cold glass, tongue shoving into your mouth with admirable ferocity. You let him tilt your head for better access, place his arms around your waist, push you up against the glass, you'd let him do anything to you right now. 

Sharp teeth bite down on your lips and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth, you find yourself unable to contain the small sounds of pleasure at his vicious probing. You can feel his arousal through his pants, poking at your thigh. Hungry for more, you reach down to give it a stroke over the clothes, to which he groans directly into your mouth.  

He draws back and you come face to face with the feral look in his eyes. 

“Needy little thing.” 

He reaches underneath your skirt and you gasp when his cool fingers make contact with the warm wetness of your underwear. He runs his finger back and forth in slow tortuous cycles. 

“So wet, so eager for my touch. Tell me, dove, how many times have you fantasized about this?” Your breath catches as he moves the offending fabric to the side and presses his finger to your bare cunt. “How many times have I made you this wet?” 

“Silco, please.” 

A devilish smile extends on his lips, “I know. Answer my question.” 

You throw your head back against the glass in frustration, breathing deeply. 

“More than I can count.”  

The fire that catches in his eyes is enough to burn down the greatest libraries in the world, mere embers of it manage to set your whole body aflame. It would be mortifying to witness if you weren’t the object of his affection, the recipient of what pleasure he has to offer. 

“You terrible little thing.”

Your answer rewards you with one, long finger easing its way past your lips and into your cunt. Your hips stutter at the contact and it elicits a sharp smile from your assailant as he curls the digit inside you. He watches your face contorting in pleasure, drawing out helpless needy moans from your sweet little mouth. He moves to swallow the gasps with his own, planting soft but relentless kisses on your lips. 

He's kind enough to insert a second finger in, working you on his hand as he angles his wrist to reach further inside. You break off from his mouth to peer down at the sight, watching his fingers disappear into your cunt; it’s endlessly obscene and it only feeds the fire burning inside you. You tighten around him when the pleasure gets too much and he grunts into your ear, the sound rolling down your spine. 

You force your head back up so he can kiss you again, shoving your head back against the glass. He claims your mouth once more, fingers relentlessly probing at your opening. His thumb moves to rub against your clitoris and your body twitches with pleasure, forcing you to draw back from his searing hot mouth. He observes you with the ravenousness of a predator observing its prey, appreciating the way your mouth helplessly hangs open. 

His thumb continues to rub against your clit as you approach the precipice at an alarming rate.

“I should like to see you speechless like this more often.” 

The smug smirk that stretches upon his kiss-bruised lips, the sinful tone of his voice, and the burning hot gaze he observes you with— it’s all too much. 

It takes a lot of control to keep your eyes open, but you don't strip him of the pleasure that comes from watching you crumble at his hand— on his hand. Those cursed, rough fingers that have committed atrocious crimes in the name of a greater cause, they continue to fuck the common sense out of you until you have no fight left in you.

When he pulls his fingers out, they’re coated with your wetness and you flush in embarrassment. Undeterred, he places the fingers in his mouth and licks them clean, before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips.

“Shall we continue this in the bedroom?” 

Gods above, thank you Janna. 

“Please.” 

When you're laid down on the silky bed sheets this time, it's miles better than you dreamt it to be. 

Silco wastes no time undressing you, having pulled your shirt off on the way to the bed, he figures out how to unhook your bra pretty quickly. You shouldn't be too surprised, those fingers are seriously skilled at everything they do. Once they're off, he dives to catch one of your breasts in his mouth, teeth grazing sensitive nipples. You take rapid deep breaths as you watch him devour your chest, creating bite marks that you'd definitely admire later. The wanting between your legs is overwhelming, but so is the one in your chest. You affectionately thread your fingers through his hair, pulling on it when he bites down on your sensitive skin. You think you could come from this alone. 

When he's satisfied with the assault on your chest, he moves lower. Your skirt is unzipped and removed at an alarming speed and his face is between your thighs before you have a chance to protest. 

Warm breath fans over your underwear, still wet from your first orgasm. He pauses, eyes peering up at you in such an uncharacteristically serene manner that you almost think something's wrong. 

“I've thought about this before.” 

You tilt your head, eyelids heavy as you smile down at him. “Have you?” 

“You have no idea, darling. I've thought about you in positions much worse.” 

You bite your lip, “I know. I've thought about you too.” There's a silent, unspoken implication in your statement that you hope the breathlessness and aching look you give him convey well enough, you're not sure that you'd be able to push out the confession otherwise. His eyes flicker from your face back to your clothed cunt, deep in thought. Almost mindlessly, he reaches up to lace his fingers through yours. He does it on his left, you reach for both his hands, rubbing gently at his knuckles. If it weren't for the position, you'd lean down and kiss them. 

“You must understand how badly I've wanted this,” and you do, “you must understand that this isn't a mindless act of the body.” Your breath hitches at what he's implying, and you're thankful that he doesn't declare it just yet, because you think you'd explode under the weight of the feeling bubbling in your chest.

“I do, Silco. I feel the same.” 

‘We can talk about it later’ is unspoken, but well understood between the two of you. For now, you focus on the way his body feels against yours, the way he noses at the inner side of your thigh in a slow absentminded motion. 

“Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave, Sil?” 

That catches his attention, eyes snapping to meet yours. His fingers leave yours to curl possessively around your thigh, digging hard enough to leave marks. 

“Leave? I would never let you, not when I have you in my hands like this.” 

And oh Janna, did he have you in his hands. 

The first contact of his tongue against your folds has you arching your back in fervor, eager to meet his mouth with your core. His eyes flicker in amusement as he pins you down by the hips.

“Patience.” 

You whine, the amount of need circulating your body overwhelming your senses. He presses his tongue flat against you and licks another experimental strip; your chest heaves, heart beating erratically against your ribcage. The frustration has you untangling your fingers from his to grip onto the sheets. He glances up at you, a dangerous look playing in his eyes, and goes for another lick. 

You sharply inhale, “Silco.” 

His lips curl in amusement, “good things come to those who wait, my love.” 

You throw your head back and release a sound that's a combination of pleasure and frustration. Teasing, evil bastard. 

“You've waited a long time for this, haven't you?” You nod, feeling too frustrated to answer. “Tell me, dove, what made you snap this time? What gave you the audacity to wrap your lips around my finger so desperately, looking at me like I hold the key to all your desires?” 

Your skin feels impossibly hot, his warm breath fans over your exposed core but he makes no move to relieve you of your suffering, looking at you expectantly instead.  

“I had a dream,” you push out through gritted teeth, “I had a dream about you.” 

He draws lazy circles on the inside of your thigh, “have you? Did it feature such promiscuous positions?”  

You shake your head, smiling down at him, “worse, you fucked me in front of your mirror.” 

His breath hitches, pupils going wide at the mental image. He speaks slowly, entranced, “is that what you like?” 

“Maybe for another time,” your smile drops, “right now, I'd like you to fucking eat me out, please.” 

He chuckles, planting a toothy kiss on the inside of your thigh, “so impatient.” 

When his tongue makes proper contact with your pussy, you let out a wanton moan. The relief it provides is inexplicable, allowing you to melt back into the covers, his grip on your thighs keeping them wide open. Your hands travel down to thread through his hair, and you get the wonderful vision of dream-disheveled Silco as a very real projection between your thighs. 

“I always knew you were good with your tongue, Sil.” You sigh in bliss. He hums against your core, “gave it a lot of thought, have you?” 

“You have no idea.” 

His wet tongue rubs against your soft walls, eliciting more needy sounds from your throat. He eats pussy like an experienced veteran, silver tongue curling inside you to reach the deepest spots. If only he could always put it to such good use. 

His sharp nose rubs against your clit and your body jolts in pleasure. 

“Right there, Sil. Don't stop,” he looks up at you with dark eyes as you continue to beg in the neediest tone known to man, “please, don't stop.” 

And he doesn't. True to his nature, he has the stamina of a fighter, and if this is how good he eats you out, you look forward to what comes after. 

He works you with his tongue until you approach your second orgasm of the night. Your back arches in anticipation, grip tightening around his hair, all you can manage in warning is a breathless close that he responds to with more vigorous probing. His hands around your hips pin you down, resisting the relentless twitching that's evoked by his tongue moving inside you. 

You call out his name in desperate pleas, hips stuttering with every deep plunge into your cunt. His eyes meet yours from between your legs, practically glowing in enjoyment; your heart stutters at the sight, you don't know if you'll ever witness anything like this in your lifetime. He mercifully continues to rub at your clit, providing you with the release you've been begging for.

The tight rope inside you continues to curl and tighten further until it snaps, reverberating through your body like an intense war cry. You come with a broken moan that has you squeezing your eyes under the intense weight of pleasure, unshed tears wetting your lashes.  

Silco squeezes your thighs, silently asking you to look at him, and you shakily comply, allowing him direct eye contact while he fucks you through your high. 

He detaches from you within a few seconds, and the affection swelling in your chest has you pulling at his vest to pull him up for a bruising kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, the evidence of your orgasm mixing into your shared spit. When you pull back, you're met with his wonderfully disheveled and flushed face, and you notice— with great amusement— that you've rubbed some of his foundation off on your thighs. 

Your eyes trail down to his clothed chest, you realize that there's a great disequilibrium between your states of undress. Your hands rise to trace the gold in his clothes, all the way up to his collar. 

“Will you take this off?” You tug at his clothes, “please, I'd like to see you.” 

You're aware that it's a big request, that his bare body would put him in such a vulnerable position that he would never recover from if this doesn't go well; but you're not quite sure what ‘this’ is either, between the lust you feel in your core, and the love beating in your chest, the one feeling that courses through you is ‘want’. 

You want him naked, vulnerable, offering himself to you just as you have to him. 

He looks torn, hesitant.

Your hand creeps up further to brush at what little skin is exposed from his neck. Slow tentative movements over the sensitive area has him twitching in your hands, but he doesn't move away. Your hands creep higher to settle around his neck, feeling for the physical and emotional scar that was left there ages ago, but still burns as if recently instilled. 

Discussions about Vander have been few and far in-between, and you understand the wound still runs deep. For a minute, you're afraid that he's going to turn away from your touch when his breath catches in his throat at the incidental scratch of your nails, but he relaxes in your grip when you continue to rub soothing patterns over the sensitive skin. 

With what power you have, you trace mindless circles on his shoulders, leaning forward to plant soft kisses along his collarbones. “It’s okay.” You kiss upwards, drawing closer to the junction of his shoulder and neck. His breath hitches as you draw closer to the sensitive skin, but he tilts his head back and allows you unspoken access anyways. 

Trust is not easy to come by, especially with someone like him, but the sight of Silco practically melting in your hands while you trace over his most sensitive scar, it feels like a bond even deeper than trust. 

The need to be brave for him, to lay yourself bare— even more than being entirely naked under him— is imminent. You take a deep breath before your fingers hook together behind his neck and pull him down for another kiss, once more for courage. 

“I like you, Silco,” you speak against his lips, glistening with the proof of your kiss. “I like you a lot, and there's nothing you can say or do that will make me like you less.” Your eyes trail up to his own, the next words feeling much more serious than you intend, “I like you so much that nothing you can show me now will make me turn away.” 

It's a reckless promise, a heated confession that admittedly just follows the weight of the moment without much previous thought. Later, you'd have to enforce the idea of boundaries, the things that he isn't allowed to do, but something in your head tells you that you weren't lying. Regardless of what he does, you don't see yourself ever walking away. 

His gaze softens, the hesitant look from earlier replaced by a prominent ache, the aftermath of a healing wound. 

“Ever the sweet talker, dove.” 

You smile, “only for you, Sil. Only for you.” 

He draws back, moving to undo his vest before he halts, instead reaching for your hands. 

“Would you like to help?” 

Your eyes twinkle with mirth, “please.” 

Slender fingers wrap around yours, guiding you to undo his tie, take off his vest, push his shirt off his shoulder. You appreciate the sight of his bare, scarred chest, running your fingers across his torso. You lean forward to plant a few soft kisses on his shoulder while you attempt to undo his pants without looking. 

You’re forced to draw back with a laugh when you undeniably fail. 

“Your pants are killing me.” 

He huffs a light laugh, “it takes a moderate amount of skill, dearest,” something flickers in his eyes, “you'll gain experience in no time.”

Your heart squeezes at the implication. You watch as he illustrates how to undo those buttons, burning every movement to memory. Once the pants are off, you reach for his underwear eagerly, grunting out a finally that only amuses him further. 

Within a few seconds, he's back on top of you and you're both equal parts naked this time. You wrap your legs around his waist, secure him against you as you exchange more open mouthed kisses. He grows harder against you, rubbing against your thighs and wet, sensitive cunt. You groan into his mouth and he takes it as a sign to reach between your legs and position himself properly. 

Your arms squeeze around his shoulder when he slips in. His girth is impressive for someone of such stature and it has you gasping for air. He raises his head to look at your face as you take him in, allowing you the glorious vision of his ruined, flushed face— he's continuously coming undone under your touch. Janna, you could watch him like this forever. 

Your fingers dig crescent moons into his pale skin once he begins moving inside you. It starts out slow, he enters all the way until you're taking him to the hilt and then allows you the pleasure of slow thrusts. Needy moans bubble in your throat as your grip on his shoulders tighten so much that you think you're about to draw blood, giving him a more pleasurable sort of scar. 

“It's been hard holding back around you lately,” he whispers against your lips. “You're impossibly alluring when you want to be.” 

You kiss him once more, “how do you think I feel?” He chases your lips when you part but you speak again, “how long has it been for you?” 

“Since the day I took in Jinx.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck, almost like he's shy, “and for you?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, “since the day we met.” 

He breathes a light laugh against your skin, you continue. “No seriously, I'd have fucked you back then if you initiated anything. Men with scars are lethally sexy.” 

“Aren't you lucky, then.” 

He bites into your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth, and sucks until you're sure it forms a nice satisfactory bruise. He licks the sensitive skin and moves to other sites to plant more marks. “Always knew you were a biter,” you say breathlessly, throat constricting under his hot mouth.

Once he's done with his assault on your neck, he stands tall and you watch something shift in his expression. The soft, loving look is replaced with something hungry and dangerous, it has you squeezing around his cock. 

“You've waited so patiently,” he hooks your legs higher around his middle, “I have to make sure I live up to your expectations.” 

And then something is set off inside him, because his pace changes from soft and romantic to goddamn animalistic. His pace speeds up, drilling so deeply inside you that you think you feel him in your stomach. Your fingers dig into his back for some sort of grounding ritual but it only makes him groan right into your ear and the sound travels down to where you're connected. You can barely catch your breath. 

“You, oh my gods, you exceed expectations, Sil.” 

“Oh, I know, darling, the way your cunt squeezes around me is proof enough.” 

Every obscene word goes right to your core and you feel him tugging on every sensitive string in your body. It's much more than that dream— gods that stupid, wonderful dream that had started the cascade of events that lead to this. There was no need for dreams anymore, his cock inside you was very much real and it was throbbing with need, one that you matched in your own core. 

His arms are on either side of your face as he fucks the living daylight out of you, and you turn and burry your teeth in his left hand to feed some of the gnawing need in your core. You think it would be delightful if you could have more of him in your mouth, you consider if you should bite down until you draw blood but you choose to be kind this time. You can save it for the next few times, something he seems to be planning as well. 

You turn back to face him and find yourself grinning stupidly at the knowledge that you're going to get this sight again, and again, and again, until you are either satisfied or dead. And if you happen to die during it, that'd be even better. 

“Dirty girl, smiling to yourself while you take my cock. What are you thinking of?” 

“I'm thinking of how beautiful you are, and how you're going to fuck me over and over again until we're both satisfied.” 

He releases a low groan, hips stuttering momentarily before he picks up the pace again, slamming against your bare ass with newfound vigor. 

“You're going to be the death of me.” 

Then he leans down and catches your mouth in one last sloppy kiss, tongue assaulting yours in a similar fashion to his cock assaulting your cunt. You wrap your arms around his neck once more, whining pleas into his open mouth. The pleasure in your lower abdomen is overwhelming, overstimulated by his bruising kiss and arms coming around you. 

It accumulates, all the sensations and the continuous coiling in your pelvis, until it explodes. The ecstasy washes over your body in waves, making you gasp against Silco’s mouth as you come undone. It shakes your whole body and for a second you think you see stars in the glowing orb of his damaged eye. He's endlessly beautiful, even as he brings you to your ruin. 

He continues to fuck you through your orgasm and long enough to reach his own, too. He finishes inside, spilling himself deep within you, making you shudder at the sensation. He doesn't stop until he's completely soft inside you. 

It's severely disappointing when he pulls out, but you understand that you can't be joined at the hips forever without an unfortunate lab accident. Instead, you settle for his embrace when he puts an arm around your shoulder, cuddling into him— two sweaty heaving bodies and an uncertain future. 

When he traces invisible patterns into your bare skin and leans down to kiss your forehead though, it doesn't really matter. 

It especially doesn't matter when you look up at him with a smile that matches his own, and it doesn't matter even more when that smile of his turns into a smirk at his next words.  

“If that's what one dream can do, I look forward to the rest of them.”

Lovely illustration for silco being an #eater right here ♡

[muxshwriting]

articulate

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

summary: Feyd realises how much he misses his wife despite seeing her everyday || warnings: grovelling?, guilt, violence, anger || word count: || masterlist

read the precursor to this: voiceless

REQUEST: would you be able to write a part two to voiceless, where feyd becomes more interested in spending time and being seen with his wife, even around others while she grows more content without him (maybe finding other people/friends for company). kinda like a “falling in love too late” kinda thing? thanks sm ❤️

You had withdrawn from your husband, done the bare minimum that was expected of you. It was what was expected of you, and the members of Harkonnen High Society were glad to see you taking your proper place. It seemed the only person not enjoying your new role was you. Even your husband was far more contented by having his days without bother and to not be questioned everytime he did anything.

But as time wore on, it started as the little things Feyd noticed he now lacked: the small glances you shared with him across the table, a squeeze of his hand before he stood, a gentle kiss to greet him. Now he ate alone, with you eating in your own chambers. You greeted him in the morning with a cold nod, no words exchanged.

He wondered what you did with your days, supposing you now lived a very lonely existence. He supposed that was the life of all noble woman, for that was the tradition of Geidi Prime and House Harkonnen, their women were nothing more than grabs for power and means to an heir.

But the more he thought, the more he doubted his family’s tradition. His familial tradition was to murder one another, why should he follow a tradition that would have his son murder you once he came of age. Perhaps tradition needed changing, perhaps he would pay you a visit, invite you to join his some days. Then again, maybe that was guilt. And Feyd-Rautha didn’t feel guilt, for anything or anyone.

“Wife!” His voice echoed as he walked into your shared chambers one evening. You were sat reading a book and glanced up as he entered.

“Yes husband?” You replied to him, placing your book down and moving to stand.

“I want to accompany me tomorrow.”

His words sent a wave of confusion through you. There were no noble visits scheduled in the coming days, nothing that would require you by his side. “Accompany you? May I ask where?”

“To my duties.” Feyd said it like it was obvious. “I have been neglecting my duty to you. Is it an offence for a husband to require his wife’s company?”

The words were said without true care behind the words and you felt your stomach twist as you reached for your book once more. “I regret to inform you that I have engagements tomorrow that I must attend to.”

“Cancel them.”

You look up at his incredulously. “Excuse me? I cannot simply cancel my plans on a moments notice because of your whim.”

Feyd bit back his anger at your rejection, ignoring the sting of pain that sat at his heart. “Very well. When do your engagements cease?”

“I am a busy woman, I barely spend a day alone nowadays. Forgive me for not keeping my schedule free and spend my time wallowing in loneliness. I can free up the day after tomorrow. Is that satisfactory for you Na-Baron?”

His wife’s coolness towards him made him doubt his intentions in the first place. Finally, he nodded solemnly, turned on his heel and exited the chamber.

Unknown to Feyd, his wife had been finding her entertainment and pleasure in other ways, finding any way to spend a day with others. It had began with her handmaiden, just a few hours helped a friendship blossom that then extended to her friends within the servants. They had created a bond that could not be broken, a space where they were not servants and she was not Na-Baroness.

Many of the servants were slaves from off-world, much how she was a slave to her husband and had been ripped from her own home and her own family to join his. There was a solace in their space she knew Feyd would not understand.

True to her word, she joined Feyd days later, sat in her seat at the breakfast table, and followed three steps behind as she did in the beginning. But there was no longing threaded into every move she made. She did not long for his love anymore, there was not a begging for attention and affection. You didn’t go out of your way to squeeze his hand or press a kiss to his cheek.

Feyd had been expecting your affection. And yet you showed him none. He was your husband but he would not be your lover.

He wished he could be, an affection from you only to him. He wanted the devotion of his wife the same way he wanted air to breathe but you would not be his air. You had found a contented life on Geidi Prime that did not involve bending to your husbands will and crawling at his feet for his love. You would perform your marital duty and spend your days in your chambers or in hidden rooms with your friends where your duty would escape you and your title would be worth nothing.

now this also has a part three!! compelling

[alemene]

𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖤𝖵𝖤（ 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 )

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 in which no one believes that lewis hamilton is dating y/n y/l/n after he hard launches their relationship.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 fluff & kissing (let me know if I missed smth)

notes I put my favourite love song in this, I didn’t even mean to but I think it matches perfectly with the vibe of the plot. hope my angolan girlies enjoy and if there’s anything I need to change, let me know 🤍

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lewishamilton

liked by carlossainzz55, georgerussell63, and 786,282,272 others

lewishamilton ❤️ girlfriend

tagged yourusername

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user IS THAT Y/N Y/L/N

user liessss. ain’t no way you bagged y/n

user mhm sure lewis, and my boyfriend is henry cavill

user we know you been single a while but this is a bit much

user it’s ok to be single bestie, no one judging

user she didn’t even like the post

user I also wish y/n was my girl

georgerussell63 👍🏼 yeah lewis!

⤷ user damn even george don’t believe it

carlossainz55 never seen her at a race….

⤷ user 💀 mate I think you’re supposed to aid in people believing lewis not doubting him

user lewis 😭😭 you could of least picked someone people would believe you’re dating

user SHE AINT EVEN COMMENTING

user this is kinda sad lol

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“WHY DOES NO ONE BELIEVE YOU?” she asks confused as she looks over the comments on lewis’ recent post. she hadn’t seen it until now and only now had the chance to like it.

“I wouldn’t believe me either love, you are way to beautiful.” he says casually as he settles down next to her, placing his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“that’s stupid.” she says softly, her accent coming out slightly when saying the word ‘stupid’, making lewis smile at her lovingly. “I’ll make a post.” she states firmly, already going to make a post on instagram.

“not right now.” he says calmly, softly laughing as he takes her phone out her hands and sets it down on the coffee table. “right now we are having date night and we aren’t going let anything distract us, so do it in the morning.” he tells her with a smile as he grabs the remote and popcorn and settles it on his lap as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“fine, but in the morning, I am making a post because people thinking you couldn’t have a chance dating me is ridiculous.” she says, her tone still a little irritated from reading the comments.

he chuckles slightly as he lifts her chin to look up at him and kisses her softly, “thank you for being so protective love, but I don’t need it.” he leans his forehead against hers.

“doesn’t matter, I’ll do it anyway.” her frown changing to a smile at the tenderness of the moment. “I love you.” she whispers to him, almost like she hasn’t told hundreds of times.

“I love you too gorgeous.” he whispers back.

“does that mean you’ll finally let me teach you to dance kizomba?” she says hopeful, looking at him with pleading eyes.

he throws his head back in laughter, “you don’t give do you?” he says smiling as he looks back down at her. “fine, I give up, I’ll let you teach me.” he agrees, her smile only growing wider as she stands up quickly and she runs to get her speaker making him groan. “baby, not now.” he says, letting his head fall back on the coach.

“yes now, because then you’ll back out of it. now up you get.” she says setting the speaker up and looking though her song collection on spotify as she picks a song. “we’ll start off easy, a nice slow kizomba.” she smiles as the song ‘loucos’ by matias damásio and héber marques starts playing.

she slowly teaches him the steps. she leads the dance and makes sure he has his hands and feet in the right position.

after a few minutes of trying again and again, he manages to get the steps right and they are moving around the living room to the song as they look at each other without speaking.

he spins her around making her giggle softly which places a wide grin on his face as they go back to the close proximity they were once in and continue moving to the beat of the music.

“you’re getting good.” she whispered to him and she places her forehead against his.

“got a good teacher.” he smiles.

“eu estou tão apaixonada por te, eu acho que tu nem entendes.” she whispers to him in portuguese, making his grin grow wider as he looks at her. (I am so in love with you, I don’t think you understand.)

he hums softly, “I am not exactly sure what you said, but I am pretty sure my response is, I love you too.” he whispers back as he kisses her cheek making her blush.

“és o amor da minha vida.” she tells him with complete certainty. (you are the love of my life.)

“ah, now that I do know and my love, you are also the love of my life. more then you can imagine.” he speaks with the same tone she did whilst looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars.

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yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainzz55 and 654,822,292 others

yourusername sir lewis carl davidson hamilton is my boyfriend and I, y/n y/m/n y/l/n, am his girlfriend.

tagged lewishamilton

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user NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

user 😭😭 I didn’t actually think they were dating

user damn.

user lucky

user this is ridiculous

carlossainz55 hi 👋🏼

⤷ yourusername hey 👋🏼

⤷ landonorris OMG SHE SAID HEY TO YOU

⤷ carlossainz55 I KNOWWW

lewishamilton damn your gorgeous

⤷ yourusername you too 🤭

user ok wait, they actually cuteee

user 😭 ok my favourite wag is now y/n

user the way no one believed him

user THE ROSES

user have you taught him kizomba??

⤷ yourusername LAST NIGHT it took me so long to convince him omd, i thought he’d never do it

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lewishamilton made a story

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world’s most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"I can't believe you won," Bonita chimes. 

"Uh, yeah, I told you to just claim the prize," you mutter. 

"And I told you," she pulls you off the subway, "it has to be the ticket holder." 

"Right. You could say you're me." 

"Didn't you read the email?" She huffs as you drag your feet behind her. You hate Manhattan. 

"I skimmed." 

"They have to check ID at the door. As your plus one, I had to submit a bunch of stuff. Didn't you?" She hooks her arm through yours as she urges you through the New York rush. 

You grumble. It's like the universe is laughing in your face. Or hers. It should've been her prize. She's the one who likes all that stuff. As much as you don't want to spit in her face, you're not very happy to spend a rare day off somewhere you don't want to be. 

You're a good friend. That's why you're doing this. That's it. You'll get through it for her. In spite of her. 

You find her waiting where she promised. She's taking selfies right outside the doors of Stark Tower, unbothered by those passing by. You nudge her and hiss, "you're in the way." 

"About time. You're almost late." She lowers her phone and bats her fake eye lashes at her. Oh, she went all out. You thought the sweater and jeans was a fine choice. 

"Almost, but I'm not," you chirp. 

"Lighten up! This is going to be the greatest days of our lives," she squeals and claps, sending her phone to the ground. You let a sigh out quietly. She's so happy. You'll keep the snide remarks to yourself. 

You bend to pick up her phone and hand it over. She snatches it and giggles, "I wonder if I could livestream the tour." 

"Just... enjoy it," you utter. You don't need her holding up her phone like a tourist. No shame, you swear. 

"Woah, hey," you stumble as someone clamours into you. "Sorry, I didn't see you there. Guess I should've looked down." 

The man's hands cling to your arms as he keeps you on your feet. You pull away and spin to face him. Bonita makes an inhuman noise. 

It's him. Steve Rogers. Again. 

"You guys lost?" He asks. 

You look at Bonita. She vibrates with excitement, "um, we won! Er. Oh! We're here because we won the tour and you're supposed to be there and all the others and--" 

"Ha, yes, I am running behind." He says, “uh, I guess you can come in with me.” 

“Oh wow,” Bonita exclaims. “Thanks so much, Captain. I mean Mr. Rogers. No. Er...” 

“Steve’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you two were at the convention?” 

“Yes, we got a photo,” she affirms. 

He opens the door and waves you ahead of him. You wait for Bonita to take the lead. You reluctantly follow as Steve tails you. 

“I thought you were familiar.” 

“Oh, no, you must meet so many people,” Bonita slows so that he can catch up and you sidle around them, happy enough to take the rear. 

“Eh, yeah, it can get a bit much.” 

“Sounds miserable,” you mutter, then cringe as you remember his super hearing. Oops. 

“I’m sure the rest are waiting,” he stops at a door and puts in a number on the keypad. It flashes red and buzzes. “Ugh, I always forget.” Instead, he moves to look into the dark lens higher up. An ultraviolet flare runs over his eye and the door unlocks. “I can doing that.” 

He opens the door again, a gentleman straight out of the 40s. Once more, you are stuck between the two of them. He points you down the hall to a private elevator. You get on. 

You bob impatiently as Bonita inserts herself between you and Steve. You stare at the reflective doors and let your vision blur. 

“So, um, is the shield here?” She asks. “Not to be lame or anything.” 

“Oh, sure, maybe you could see some of the prototype suits? I think there’s still a few hanging around,” Steve answers. 

“That’s so cool,” she chimes. 

You struggle not to roll your eyes. Instead, you focus and find another pair observing you in the mirrored surface before you. You quickly glance away from Steve’s gaze. 

Finally, your floor comes. You assume since the doors ding and Steve steps ahead of you. You follow him out into a spacious room. You can tell by the windows alone that it’s the very top of tower. 

“There you are, Capsicle,” someone calls over. 

You turn in the direction of the voice as Bonita grabs your arm and points at the dark-haired man. You know who he is. He’s on too many magazine covers and blogs not to. Tony Stark. He stands amid the group of his fellow avengers. 

“I found our lucky winners,” Steve says. 

“Bonita, and er, well, she won,” she pokes you as she introduces you. “Erm, we’re super excited.” 

You stare dully. You want to lie, for her. You do your best; a nod. 

“I remember you two,” Bucky’s voice surprises you. It’s only then you notice him sitting away from the rest of them, lazily flipping a knife. “You had a photo.” 

“Yes, that’s us!” Bonita blusters. 

“Well, ladies, welcome to the tower, these are the big boys... and girls.” Stark steps in front of the rest, “you’ve met Steverino here, and apparently his sidekick, The Raven.” Bucky scoffs as he stands and sheaths the knife. “Not to be cocky but I assume you know the rest of us.” 

“I do!” Bonita declares, “but er...” she looks at you. You half-nod and half-shrug. “It’s Tony Stark!” 

“I know that.” 

“Who doesn’t?” He winks. 

You grumble and his chin tilts slightly in affront. 

“That’s Thor! And Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, and Vision, and Hawkeye, and Hulk...” she goes down the list as you lose track and a little bit of interest. It’s your turn in Scrabble, you feel the notification buzz in your pocket. 

“What? Were you caught in the ice with this one?” Stark jabs Steve with a snicker. “You don’t know the world’s greatest heroes?” 

You stare back at him. “Nice tower, I guess.” 

“Ice cold,” he whistles, “I’ll leave this one to you, Vis. She’s about your speed,” he turns and struts away. 

“It’s your tour,” the woman with the short red bob says; the widow? 

“Contractual obligation but far from my idea,” he counters. “Hey, Banner, how about you take the lead. PhD or whatnot, I’m sure you give a hell of a lecture.” 

“We can go.” You offer and Bonita elbows you. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Steve insists, “we’re all going on the tour. Right, Tony?” 

“Hm, let me grab a whiskey first.” 

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [29] - Enticing

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: It’s important to have a plan in mind before certain meetings.

Word Count: 2200

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Fine, maybe Bucky did have a point.

You were two seconds away from jumping his bones and to annoy you even more, he was so busy with work that you could barely see him.

But thankfully, you had a solution for that.

“Take these home please,” you told your driver as you stepped out of the car, motioning at the multiple bags of lingerie sets on the backseat. “Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” he said and you closed the door, then made your way to the building. You took the elevator, then approached Bucky’s office and smiled at his assistant.

“Is he inside?”

“Yes Mrs. Barnes,” she said. “With his father.”

You raised your brows, then heaved a sigh and knocked on the door before opening it. George looked over his shoulder from where he was sitting on the couch and a smile pulled at Bucky’s lips as soon as his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there, am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all, come in!” Bucky said as he walked to you and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your heart skip a beat. George smiled at you and stood up as well as you approached him.

“Hi honey.”

“George,” you greeted him back and let him kiss your cheek, then sat down next to him on the couch.

“I was thinking we could have lunch?” you asked and he made a face.

“I gotta meet Nat in half an hour sweetheart. Sorry.”

“About the raid issue?”

George raised his brows, looking between you as if he was surprised that you knew about it, but neither you nor Bucky commented on it.

“Well she also lost half a million,” Bucky said. “Needless to say, she’s furious.”

“Everyone is,” George said. “That cousin of yours is an idiot, Y/N. I mean there’s a difference between being new and being an amateur.”

“Stark called for an emergency meeting,” Bucky said with a smirk. “So did Clint, and I’m guessing so will Nat.”

You tried to keep your expression serene and heaved a sigh. “They will eat him alive.”

“Business talk can wait,” George told you. “How is your day going sweetheart?”

Not retorting to the condescending tone he thought he could hide was rather challenging, but you managed to control yourself. There was a time for everything, and you had to make sure not to look not as interested in just how Ian had screwed up, at least in front of George. You exchanged glances with Bucky who rolled his eyes, then turned to George.

“It’s going good,” you said. “I had coffee with Becca, then went shopping.”

“Oh what did you buy?”

All the lingerie sets you bought flashed in your mind and you bit back a smile as you stole a look at Bucky, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Jewelry,” you said, holding up your wrist to show your bracelet. “And yours, George?”

“Enjoying the retirement,” he said. “Something your father can’t do anytime soon, as it seems.”

You scoffed a small laugh. “He likes the job too much.”

“That’s not the only reason,” he muttered and you shot a look at Bucky who smirked.

“Yeah well, bad choice in heirs.”

“Has he talked to you?” George asked and you pulled your brows together, feigning confusion.

“About?”

“About what he’s going to do now that Ian screwed up in front of people that badly?”

“He doesn’t talk to me about the job,” you said. “But I’d say he made his choice. Now he just needs to train Ian.”

“That training was supposed to have started decades ago.”

You hummed. “And yet here we are.”

“If I remember right, your prenup said your second child would have claim on the territory, no?” George asked with a laugh. “Maybe you two should hurry up, Arthur does desperately need an heir it seems.”

The joke made your jaw clench. Of course he didn’t even consider you just like your father didn’t, but he was more than ready to accept your hypothetical child as the heir.

Anyone but you, apparently.

“Father…” Bucky muttered and George held up his hands.

“Just saying.”

“And that’s my cue,” you said, pushing yourself off the couch and George chuckled.

“Y/N, I was joking.”

“Oh I know, I just think it’s a good idea to see if my dad is alright now that you mentioned him,” you said, shooting him a fake smile before walking to Bucky to peck him on the cheek. “See you at home?”

“Absolutely,” he said and you walked out of the office, anger still poisoning your system.

                                       *

Your father’s assistant told you that he was home today, so you went straight there without dropping by the company. As usual, the foyer and the rest of the house were full of your father’s or Ian’s bodyguards and his assistant was by the study door. You waved at her but before you could approach her, you heard your aunt’s voice echoing in the foyer.

“Y/N, hello!”

You tried not to grimace, then turned to smile at her.

“Auntie.”

She came closer to kiss your cheek. “Arthur is taking a call, let’s catch up in the meantime.”

“I’m actually in a hurry, I just wanted to check whether he’s alright—”

“He is,” your aunt assured you as she gently steered you to the living room. “Albeit a bit tense but you know, it happens.”

“Does it though?” you muttered as you sat down on the couch. She waved a dismissive hand in the air.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Ian’s tiny little mistake?”

“I haven’t,” you said. “I have heard about the million dollar mistake though.”

She pressed her lips together.

“He is under tremendous amount of pressure,” she told you solemnly. “Running around everywhere.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “Is that right?”

“And I told your father the same thing, I think he’s being too harsh with him lately.”

“Well, a lot of bosses want his head on a spike,” you pointed out. “I’d say he is being quite nice to him, actually.”

Your aunt shot you a glare but you only smiled, making her heave a sigh and clasp her hands in her lap.

“Arthur says people are pushing for a sit down,” she said. “And that Ian must be there for some reason. I don’t know why he insists on it—”

“Because if he didn’t attend it’d make him look even worse,” you said. “No one would take him seriously after that.”

“He’s not the boss!”

“He’s the heir,” you forced yourself to say. “Bosses can take heirs with them to the meetings. Father has a point, he can’t coddle him especially in a situation like this.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” she insisted. “I’m sure Bucky has made them too.”

“He hasn’t,” you said, aware of the proud tone in your voice. “He was raised for this shit, so he actually pays attention. Unlike Ian.”

She clicked her tongue.

“Well you must talk to him,” she said and you pulled your brows together.

“To Bucky? Why?”

“Ian needs someone in that room that will have his back.”

You tried to stop the laughter threatening to spill from your lips.

“And you think Bucky will do it?”

“He will if you ask him to.”

“Why on earth would I ask him to?” you asked with a scoff and she threw her hands up.

“Because we’re family!” she said. “Ian would do the same for you.”

“Ian would throw me to the wolves if the roles were reversed,” you pointed out with a chuckle. “You know it as well as I do. They’d eat me alive during that meeting and he wouldn’t lift a finger, he’d encourage it.”

“You’re being very unfair to him, Y/N.”

“Maybe you just forgot what your son��s personality is like because you barely spend any time with him,” you said calmly and she narrowed her eyes.

“Careful.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue and held up your hands, gesturing surrender.

“Bucky wouldn’t help Ian even if I asked him to,” you said. “He doesn’t take him seriously.”

“And why is that?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m gonna go on a limb and assume it’s because Ian makes mistakes that cost my father and the other bosses millions of dollars.”

“What’s a couple of millions in this business?” she asked with a small laugh. “Nothing.”

You heaved a sigh. “It gives a message, auntie.”

She crossed her legs, sticking her nose in the air.

“Either way, talk to Bucky,” she said. “Everyone says he listens to what you say, so it might be a good idea to put in some good word for Ian before that meeting.”

You arched a brow, but before you could comment on it, your father’s assistant entered the room.

“Y/N, he says he can see you now.”

“Oh thank you,” you said and got up from the couch. “Auntie. Always a pleasure.”

She just shot you a smile and you shook your head slightly, then followed your father’s assistant to his study.

                                           *

When you got back home, Bucky still wasn’t back so you had enough time to put your plan into action. The set you had chosen for tonight was black; the lacy corset matching the garter belts holding your stockings. You were just done with fixing your hair when you heard Bucky opening the front door, so you threw yourself on the bed and grabbed the book on your nightstand to open it.

“Charm?”

“Upstairs!” you called out, turning on your stomach and swinging your legs back and forth lazily, trying to bite back your smirk as Bucky walked into the room, reading something on his phone.

“I have so much to tell you about the meeting today,” he said without taking his eyes off of the screen and went to place his gun on the small coffee table and you hummed.

“What?”

“Nat is furious, and she and Clint actually—” he stopped talking as soon as he raised his eyes from the phone and you looked over your shoulder to see him frozen in his spot.

“She and Clint?” you asked him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary and he blinked a couple of times in complete silence, staring at you.

“Bucky?” you said and he swallowed thickly.

“What the fuck—am I dreaming?”

“Why would you be dreaming?” you asked and rolled over to lean back on your palms, crossing your legs. “We should talk by the way.”

“Oh we’re not talking,” he said, pulling you by the ankle to the edge of the bed and you let out a squeal that turned into a giggle before you pushed at him and got up from the bed. He let out a groan.

“Charm…”

“What?”

“Is this a new way for you to torture me?”

“No, I just think we should talk.”

“I can’t contribute anything to the conversation because I don’t have any blood in my brain right now, it’s all rushing south.”

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned on your hip. “Can you focus?”

“No.”

“Bucky!”

“You’re in a corset and garter belts and you want me to focus?” he asked, taking a step towards you but you took a step back, smirking.

“Calm down.”

“Come here.”

“No because we need to talk first.”

“If this is about who breaks first,” he said. “I broke first, you won, now come here.”

“I’m glad you agree but that’s not it,” you said. “About the sit down, is there a date yet?”

“A lot of people would start with dirty talk—”

“Business talk is my dirty talk,” you stated. “So?”

“Next week,” he said, pulling at one of the ribbons on the corset and you swatted his hand away.

“Ian is going to be there so—”

“Take it off.”

“Good lingerie is wasted on men I swear to God…” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a happy flip. “So if Ian is there, I need to be there.”

“Done.”

“The only way—” you batted his hand away again. “The only way for me to be there is if others believe I’m your heir in case of an emergency, because—”

“Done.”

You let out a laugh. “That easily?”

“Sweetheart you could ask me for all my possessions including the company right now and the answer would still be yes,” he said, making you let out a laugh as he wrapped his vibrainum arm around you and easily lifted you up. He carried you to the bed to drop you there and got rid of his shirt, letting you see his muscular before he got on top of you, his lips finding yours. Your eyes fluttered close and a happy sigh left your lips when he pulled back to look down at you.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You could feel the fire warming your cheeks and a giggle escaped from you before you pushed at him slightly so that you could straddle him. He quickly pulled at the ribbons holding the corset together and you tilted your head.

“So I win?” you asked again and he nodded, grinning.

“You win babe.”

You smirked, then let him pull the corset off of you to throw it somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss him again.

Chapter 30

[i9messi]

You belong with me — Charles Leclerc

You're Charles best friend and a famous singer. When he announces he is going to get married soon, people start to analyze your songs.

social media au

a/n: happy ending!! I got inspired by taylor's songs, I love her so much

charles' masterlist

charles_leclerc

she said yes 💍

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, arthur_leclerc and 693.183 others

view all comments

user1 no, I can't believe this. pls tell me isn't real

user2 you should marry y/n instead

user3 i'll cry myself to sleep

user4 our girl yourusername was meant to be your wife, not her

carlossainz55 congrats mate!

user5 you're team y/n and we all know it

yourusername I'm happy for you charless ❤️

user5 I'm so sad, i hope he regrets what he's doing

landonorris 😡😡 (comment deleted)

yourusername

new song will come out tomorrow, it's a little personal <3

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 923.162 others

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user1 another song for charles??

user2 my girl need to express her feelings

user3 must be a sad song

user4 "it's a little personal" okay, that means this song will break my heart forever

landonorris I'm not ready for this

carlossainz55 either am I

charles_leclerc ❤️

user5 DON'T GET MARRIED

NEWS! famous singer, Y/N, is in love with Charles Leclerc?

In her latest song You're losing me the singer and songwriter reveals some important details about her love-life.

read more...

You can also read!

Five songs of Y/N dedicated to Charles Leclerc.

landonorris

do something, baby, say something tagged yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 553.123 others

view all comments

user1 lando is us

user2 say something @/charlesleclerc

user3 three days and charles still haven't showed up. patience isn't my best quality

user4 @/charlesleclerc your best friend openly confessed in a song she's waiting for you to choose her

user5 I would marry her

landonorris me too

user6 Lando! I'm supposed to be team Charles

user5 user6 we can be team Lando too

carlossainz55 🧐🧐

maxverstappen1 I'll go and get some popcorn

pierresgasly this is good entertainment

NEWS! Leclerc and his fiancée ended their relationship?

Some sources confirmed what some fans were waiting for. Charles Leclerc is interested in his best friend, the famous singer?

Read the article.

NEWS!

A month has passed and we’re all asking the same question, What happened between Leclerc and Y/L/N? Since the singer and songwriter has released her latest song, fans haven't stopped mentioning Charles Leclerc, her best friend. Leclerc has made no statement on the matter, nor of his future marriage (have they cancelled it?). Lando Norris and other Formula One drivers seem to be aware of the events, however the protagonist of our story has been inactive in his social media.

Some days ago, fans have met the Ferrari driver at Y/N concert. Does his presence mean they are still good friends or has he finally ended his relationship with his fiancée? Is Leclerc single now?

charles_leclerc

I belong with you 🤍 tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 2.983.123 others

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landonorris WAR IS OVER

carlossainz55 I KNEW IT

carlossainz55 IM NOT BLIND CHICOS

user1 THANK YOU CHARLES

user2 finally our boy realized who was there for him all the time

pierresgasly 🥹 I'm so proud of you

maxverstappen1 finally, what took you so long?

pierresgasly he was an idiot

fernandoalo_oficial I want free tickets for her show, please!

user3 the world healed

[phoenixblaze1412]

I've been reading your works now and then, and i gotta say its all really enjoyable. This is my first time making a req, but i've always imagined dottore not wanting to let his wife go even in death, so he when she dies bcuz of a fatui mission or smth dottore goes 'no☠️' and just revives she and makes her some kind of zombie?? Its the type that has stiches around their body. So dottore can go like 'hey bbg r u hurt let me fix u up!!🥰❤️'

This is based on my oc x canon so don't mind me if im weird. Thank you so much for everything you do!

The Fatui headquarters was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of machines in Dottore’s lab. He stood hunched over a surgical table, his gloved hands trembling slightly as he worked with meticulous precision.

You lay there, lifeless yet beautiful, even in death. The wounds from the failed mission that claimed your life were gruesome, but to him, they were merely challenges to overcome.

"No," he muttered to himself, voice laced with desperation. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever."

His segments watched from the shadows, each with varying expressions. Theta tilted his head, curious and unbothered. Omega, the eldest and most stoic, crossed his arms but said nothing. Zeta adjusted his glasses, clearly uneasy but unwilling to interrupt.

“Is this wise?” Zeta finally dared to ask.

Dottore didn’t even glance up. “Wise or not, it’s necessary. She belongs with me.”

The process took days. Dottore refused to rest, his focus singular. He replaced damaged organs, stitched torn muscles, and mended broken bones with care that bordered on obsessive.

Finally, the moment came. With a surge of electro energy coursing through your body, your chest rose as if taking in a breath for the first time. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy but alive. Dottore leaned over you, his mask discarded for once, his crimson eyes burning with intensity.

“Welcome back, my love.”

At first, waking up was disorienting. Your body felt different, your movements were stiffer and the faint pull of stitches reminded you of your altered state.

“I… I’m alive?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” Dottore said, a rare softness in his tone as he cupped your cheek. “You’re alive, and you’re mine once more, forever.”

You looked down at your hands, noticing the faint lines of stitches trailing across your wrists. “What… what did you do, Dottore?”

“I saved you,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave me, did you?”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but stare at him, still processing your current situation. “But I'm.. different.”

“So? You’re still perfect as ever,” he countered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The segments, of course, had varying opinions about your resurrection.

Theta held your hand and placed it along his cheek, grinning as he stared at you in awe. “Does this mean she’s indestructible now? Can I test it?”

He earned a sharp glare from Dottore and a flick on the forehead from you.

Omega tilted his head and hummed. “It’s unnatural, but.. I suppose it was inevitable, given his obsession. Either way, as long as I am able to see them again. I am fine with it."

Zeta smiled as he handed you a glass of water to drink, looking over the stitches the doctor has done and nodded in satisfaction at how methodically well it was stitched. “At least she seems to be adjusting well. And.. she does make the lab feel more cheerful.”

You smiled and laughed at their bickering, grateful for their unique personalities and happy to have them with you. Dottore deciding to ignore his segments as he focused his gaze on you, caressing your cheek adoringly.

----------

Living as a stitched-together version of yourself was an adjustment but Dottore’s unwavering love made it easier.

One evening as you sat in his lab patching up a tear in your arm, he walked over with a smirk.

“Hello, my love,” he teased, crouching in front of you as he held up a needle and thread up in his hand and grinned. “Are you hurt? Let me fix you up.”

You rolled your eyes but handed him the needle. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And yet, you adore me for it,” he replied, his hands deftly repairing the stitches with the same care he’d shown during your resurrection.

----------

Though your body was different, your love for each other remained unchanged. If anything, it deepened. You had always known Dottore’s devotion ran deep, but seeing the lengths he’d go to keep you by his side was overwhelming.

One night, as you lay together in his quarters, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you traced a finger over the stitches on your stomach.

“Does this bother you?” you asked softly.

He frowned, pulling you closer. “No. It reminds me that you’re here. With me. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re crazy.. going this far as resurrecting me is ridiculously mad.”

“And what of it? You’re mine. Even in death, we shall never part,” he whispered, his voice filled with uncharacteristic tenderness as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

In Dottore’s eyes, you were perfection, stitched together, alive, and irrevocably his and only his.

[777rare]

🌞 SUN GAZING 🌞

A Spiritual Practice

A theme song for this post:

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW SPIRITUAL BEINGS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

A BONUS in this post : SUN WATER AND MOON WATER🫂⛅

Sun Gazing is an Ancient Egyptian practice where you stare directly into the Sun. But this can only be done at sunrise or sunset to avoid damage being done to your eyes from the UV rays.

Sun gazing does much more than just increase your energy. Sun gazing is said to decalcify and grow the pineal gland (3rd eye). Meaning you will feel more spiritually connected to the world around you.

This practice helps one feel more energized and free, so if you feel sluggish and tired all the time, be sure to try this out. Society has made us believe that the Sun is bad for us, when actually, if in reality, we harvest the Sun's energy properly, it can and will change our lives forever.

If you don't believe it, Try this practice for 7 days straight and just see the difference!

⛅ SUN WATER and MOON WATER 🌜

Now, I'm sure many of my spiritual readers know what Moon Water is. Some may even know what Sun Water is. If some of you are hearing this for the first time, I will explain briefly.

• Sun Water is the method of containing the Sun's positive energies into the water we drink or use for our spiritual practices by placing it outside exposed to the Sun.

• Moon Water is the method of containing the Moon's positive energies into the water we drink or use for our spiritual practices by placing it outside exposed to the Moon.

HOW TO MAKE SUN WATER:

The steps are very easy and simple:

Fill up any container with Water (Bottles, A Glass, Tumbler, anything that can hold in water).

If you wish, you can even cleanse the container before filling it up with Water, with an incense stick or sage.

Place the container of water where the Sun's rays hit. The water in the container must be exposed to the Sun's rays. Also, you are only supposed to keep the water at any of the 2 allotted timings which I have given below👇

You can write down affirmations on a piece of paper, fold it and place it under the container if you wish to, as well.

Let the container be where it is till the time you must take it out, that is:

Early morning - 6:00 Am to 8/9:00 Am.

Afternoon to evening hours - 5:30 Pm to 7:00 Pm.

The benefits of drinking and using the Sun Water in our spiritual practices are the same as the benefits of Sun Gazing.💖

.

HOW TO MAKE MOON WATER:

Again, The steps are very easy and simple:

Fill up any container with Water (Bottles, A Glass, Tumbler, anything that can hold in water).

If you wish, you can even cleanse the container before filling it up with Water, with an incense stick or sage.

Place the container of water where the Moon's light touches the water. The water in the container must be exposed to the Moon's light.

You can write down affirmations on a piece of paper, fold it and place it under the container if you wish to, as well.

Let the container be where it is overnight and then you must take it out before the sun rises.

MOON GAZING IS ALSO VERY BENEFICIAL.

Moon Water is very beneficial for those who want to get in touch with their intuition more and become more spiritually energized.

Drinking Moon water can help one become more relaxed and in touch with their emotions and feminine side.

One can manifest and cleanse using Moon Water as well. It is the most recommended by witches. Witchcraft is a bland experience without Moon Water because Moon is the witches mother.

Without the nurturing of our Mother Moon, how can we feel the best in our spiritual practices? Hence, we first bow down to our Moon, who will always be our Soul Mother.

Thankyou for reading through this! I do hope you all enjoyed this short post!

I will see you in the next one, and yes, the tarot pile reading will come out soon...till then, I will be posting as usual❤️

Take care and have a great day!❤️‍🔥

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi there 🙏 thanks for answer me, you can take your time 😊 I am such a fan of some of your fanfics so I know you can write something for me.

I wasn't really feel comfortable with my body like the usually, so I would really love something about Benny comforting reader about her body issues, something like soft but also smutty.. all the smut you can bring to the table (I read your work so I trust you can do it 😂❤️) it can start softly and then go to the dirty smut... That's all I ask for 🙏.

Take your time of course I'll wait excited ☺️

I'm Really Into You - Part 3

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader "Poppy"

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Hi Nonnie! I'm so sorry to make you wait! I hope it's ok, but your ask reminded me of another ask I had received years ago that had 2 parts. So I made this a part 3! I'll have parts 1 and 2 linked below in case you haven't read them. Thank you so much for waiting!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I’m Really Into You Part 1

I’m Really Into You Part 2

I hate our bi-annual meetings at work. They’re supposed to be “fun team morale building”, but all they do is make me feel like shit. Because, inevitably, someone is going to comment on my weight. “You’ve lost weight!” or “Oh, you look the same!”. I once had someone tell me I looked like I had gained weight. People tend to not have filters when you’re not a size 2. I hit Benny’s speed dial on my phone and he picks up after the second ring.

“Hey sweetheart! You on your way over?” I sigh. “Hey, you ok?”

He always seems to know. “Yeah.”

“Poppy?”

I pause a moment. “Just…people at work suck.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No…yes? I don’t know. Maybe I should just go to my place tonight and we can do dinner tomorrow.”

There’s a pause. “If that’s what you want, sure. But I really want you to come over. I miss you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “You just saw me yesterday.”

He lets out an overly dramatic whine. “That was forever ago!”

I can’t help but chuckle, picturing his beautiful face and bright blue eyes with a dramatic pout on his lips. “Ok, ok. I’m coming.”

“Yeah you will.”

“Benny!”

“What? I’m psychic too! I can see your future!”

15 minutes later, I pull into his driveway. I glance in the mirror, patting down my hair a little before saying “Fuck it” and just grabbing my bag and walking to the front door. I barely raise my fist to knock before he opens the door, immediately cupping my face and kissing me. It takes me a second but finally I respond, leaning into his kiss as best I can with my bag in one hand and my travel cup in the other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Benny pulls back just enough to look at me, his large hands still cupping my face. 

“Hi Benny.”

He drops my face and takes my bag, letting me enter and take off my shoes while he closes and locks the door. He hangs my bag on a hook and I follow him over to the couch, where he has a drink and some snacks already sitting out. I sit and look at the snacks, tears welling in my eyes.

“Hey hey! No, I didn’t get the chips you hate, I promise!”

I smile sadly, the tears starting to fall as I desperately try to choke them back, wiping at my face with my sleeve. “N-no, you’re perfect.”

He places his hand on my leg. “Then what is it? Was it work?” When I don’t answer, a flash of anger crosses his face. “Those fuckers.”

I let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, they mean well. I think? It’s just…nevermind.”

Benny squeezes my leg. “You can tell me anything, Poppy.”

I take a deep breath. I promised myself I would be open with Benny, especially after he bared himself to me, telling me all about his ptsd and his nightmares, his insecurities, all of it. 

“At these big team meetings we have twice a year, I see people I don’t normally see. There’s the usual small talk, but someone almost always talks about my weight. Whether I look like I’ve lost a few pounds, look the same, or even gained weight. Once I had lost about 10 pounds and someone asked if I had gained.” I bury my face in my hands, the tears flowing out. “I’m used to the comments but they still hurt,” my voice is muffled but he hears me. 

Gently, Benny grips my forearms, pulling them away from my face before he cups it, waiting for my eyes to find his. “Fuck them, Poppy. You’re gorgeous.”

That sad smile crosses my face again. “You have to say that since you’re my boyfriend. For some reason.” I didn’t mean to say that last part out loud, but I did. 

“What?” Benny said in disbelief.

“It’s just you’re so-” I gesture at him. “-hot. And I’m just-” I gesture at myself. “-me.”

“Poppy, I have thought you were gorgeous from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wanted all of you. Your curves, your tits, your ass, your eyes, you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what I did to deserve you because I’ve definitely done some fucked up shit in my life.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Let me show you.” He replaces his finger with his lips, soft at first, his tongue gently pressing against my mouth. I part my lips and he slides his tongue in, dancing around with my own. He gently presses on my shoulders to get me to lie down on my back and I comply, his lips kissing down my jaw and sucking on a spot on my neck that has me gasping. His fingers deftly undo the buttons on my shirt and he flings it open, his lips starting a path down to my chest. 

“Ooo front open bra!” 

I can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, the laugh catching in my throat as he pops open my bra and immediately starts lapping at my chest, tongue swirling around my nipples. He sucks one in his mouth and I groan, pressing my hips up against his, feeling how hard he is in his pants already. He pulls his head back and grabs a boob in each hand, kneading and squeezing them as he brushes his thumb over my peaked nipples.

“These are the best tits I’ve ever seen. And I get to put them in my mouth.” He resumes lapping at them, chuckling darkly when my hips buck up again, a quiet moan all I can manage in response. He pulls the top of my skirt down slightly and starts to move down to my stomach, and this is where I twitch. He knows it’s a sensitive area for me, always self-conscious. But he takes his time, kissing and licking and gripping me, bucking his own hips into the couch. 

“Fuck you are so hot. I love your curves.”

He bunches the edges of my skirt up in his fists, kissing my thighs as he does so. Then he looks up at me, a sparkle in his eyes as he winks, his head disappearing under my skirt. He presses my legs apart more and before I can say anything, he slides my underwear to the side and licks straight up me, my hips bucking into his face. He slides an arm across my lower belly, firmly keeping me in place as he laps at me, his tongue swirling around my clit as I gasp and moan, my hands twisting into the couch cushions as I could not grip his hair. 

“Oh fuck, Benny! There!” He found a spot that makes my leg twitch, massaging it with his tongue for a moment before he slides 2 fingers inside me, immediately curling them and finding that magical spot. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he speaks lowly against my cunt, his voice vibrating through me and I lose it, his name tumbling from my lips in praise as wave after wave of pleasure passes over me. I start to come down, but he doesn’t move, reaffirming his grip on my stomach.

“Not done with you yet,” he mumbles, diving back in, his tongue finding another spot that makes both of my legs twitch this time. I manage to prop myself up enough to look between my legs, his broad shoulders poking out from under my skirt where his head is fully lodged. When he licks against me again I come undone, hips twitching as I cry his name. I come down and he pulls his head out, hair all mussed up, his chin glistening with me, a big stupid smile on his face.

“I want you to think of me between your legs every time you wear this skirt.”

That rushes straight between my legs, despite the last several minutes. “Fuck yeah I will.”

He sits up and reaches over his back, pulling his shirt from himself. I lean up and start to undo his pants, Benny chuckling as he watches me. “Can’t wait, huh?” I shake my head as I pull down his zipper. He pushes my legs wider as I pull down his boxers and lay back, slapping his dick against my overstimulated pussy and I jolt. He grips my knees and pushes them a little more wider, notching himself at my entrance.

“Now I’m going to fuck your gorgeous self into this couch and you’re going to take it like my good girl, right?” I nod furiously. 

He slides himself in with one push of his hips and I cry out, his body laying over mine as he pounds into me, praise whispered in my ear between grunts. “You’re so fucking hot, Poppy…never been this turned on in my life…I swear it’s like I’m a teenager again…I just want to be inside you all day or between your legs…fuck your tits have good bounce!” 

I reach up and pinch my own nipples, eliciting a moan not only from me but from Benny too. “Fuck yeah, Poppy. You’re so hot - touch yourself. Show me how hot you are.”

I hesitate a moment, having never touched myself in front of him, or anyone, before. But I trust the man currently buried inside of me with my entire heart. So I lift two fingers to his mouth and slide them inside, Benny swirling his tongue around them with a groan before I pull them out and place them on my clit, teasing myself how I like. The difference is, I’ve never had a man pounding me senseless while I did this and oh fuck this is hot. Benny pushes himself up, his eyes watching where I’m touching myself.

“Just like you like, Poppy. Oh fuck, this is hot, I’m gonna…cum with me!” 

And I do. I cum yelling his name as he continues to press deeper into me, my fingers still dancing across my clit as my legs twitch, my pussy tightening around him as he spills into me, my name a chant on his own lips. He leans down, still inside me, as he presses a soft kiss to my lips. 

“Feel better, sweetheart?”

I’m smiling genuinely this time, my entire body warm and relaxed as I nod. “Feeling loved.”

Oh. Fuck. What did I just say?

My eyes fly open as I look at him. We had never said that out loud. But Benny’s smile is wider than mine. “That’s because I love you, Poppy.”

“Y-you do?”

He kisses me again, still soft. “I have for a while.”

“I love you too, Benny. So much.”

The kiss heats up and I feel him twitch inside me. “Let’s go to the bedroom. I want to spread you out and show you how much I love you.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi 

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[jobean12-blog]

Anything For You

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: You want to do something with Javi but you're not sure he'd be into it...

Author's Note: This was supposed to be about pumpkin picking and going to the farm. I wrote this Joel story about pumpking picking and thought it would be fun to do it with Javi...but he had other plans so this is what happened...I do mention it but it's not the focus LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, soft and sweet, smut, fingering, oral (f rec), Javi is a warning bc duh

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The answer to the light knock at his door is a simple, “no.”

Another knock.

“Steve,” he grumbles, without looking up from his papers.

“This one isn’t a no,” Steve replies with a smile in his voice.

Javi’s eyebrows raise and he leans back in his chair behind the desk. At the conceding silence the door opens and reveals Steve.

“You’re not a yes,” Javi mutters.

You slip around Steve and saunter into the office.

“No, he isn’t,” you say sweetly. “But I am.”

Javi couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips even if he wanted to.

“Angel,” he says softly.

He quickly shoots Steve a look that says, ‘get the fuck out,’ before his dark eyes drink you in. With a pat to his thigh, he calls you over.

Steve shuts the door with a light chuckle and shake of his head.

“Hi,” you murmur as you sit on Javi’s lap.

He slides one hand up your thigh, squeezing gently while the other smooths along the curve of your spine to grab the back of your neck. His thumb brushes along the nape before his fingers tighten and he drags you down to his lips.

“Hi,” he says after kissing you. “To what do I owe the pleasure angel?”

“I just came by to see you. I missed you.”

He chuckles and lightly runs his fingertips down between your breasts to the hem of your dress. With his eyes locked on yours he slowly pushes the material higher, exposing more and more of your bare skin.

Your breath hitches and your legs instinctively move apart. When his fingers brush the silk between your legs his smile falters and pushes out his bottom lip.

“You’re wearing panties. That’s no fun.”

“And you’re very observant,” you shoot back as you try to keep your voice steady.

“So, does this mean I don’t get to bend you over my desk today?”

You throw him a matching pout and his eyes drop to your mouth, tracking the movement.

“I never said you couldn’t do that. I just have a question first.”

“So, you didn’t just come by to say hi?” he teases, his fingers still working their magic against your quickly dampening panties.

Ignorning his playfulness for the moment you try to stay focused.

“You have to stop that before I ask.”

“Stop what angel?”

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t concentrate.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

“But…”

He lightens his touch, still teasing but relenting enough to let some of your haze lift. You try to shift in his lap but his grip on your waist tightens and he holds you firmly in place.

Clearing your throat you say, “I want you to take me pumpkin picking.”

His movements stop and it makes you break out into a smile. He removes his hand from under your skirt and taps the top of his desk.

You slide off his thigh and sit on the cool wood, spreading your legs so he can slide his chair between them.

“You want to go to a farm? And pick pumpkins?”

You nod, “mm hm…and maybe apples? And bake things with them.”

“Ok,” he says as his flattened palms slide up your thighs. “We can do that.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it. Of course I’ll take you pumpkin picking.”

At your stunned silence, his lips twitch with a lopsided smirk.

“What?” he asks as he rubs small circles with his thumb on your inner thighs.

“I guess I thought it would take more convincing.”

With a tug he shifts you closer to the edge of his desk and pushes your skirt up over your hips.

“Right now, I’d do just about anything you asked if it’ll get me between these gorgeous legs faster.”

“Javi.”

You want his name to come out with some force but instead it breathy and desperate.

“Put your legs over my shoulders angel.”

You do as he says, exhaling a shaky breath when his hands run up your legs and back down again, before slowly peeling off you panties. You squirm on top of the desk, and he stops you with a firm hand to your lower stomach.

“Stay still,” he breathes between your legs.

“Please,” you gasp.

He places a soft kiss to the delicate skin right at the place where your hip meets your thigh. “Please what…give you what you really came here for?”

Your lips part but only a low, pleading sound comes out as he noses your pussy, pressing, before kissing it softly.

“Or should I punish you for thinking I wouldn’t take you pumpkin picking.”

‘Both please,’ you think, but instead, find your sassiness and reply with, “put your mouth on me Javi. Now.”

You feel his smile before he licks you with a long, firm drag of his tongue. You arch off the desk and push onto his face, and he opens his mouth, sucking, and nibbling before he pushes two fingers inside you.

Your head falls back, and he slows his movements. “Eyes on me angel,” he growls.

Pushing up onto your elbow, you run your other hand into his hair and gently guide him with a roll of your hips. He groans again and you tug harder on his hair, the dizzy feeling growing until you’re shaking with the blissful spasms that move through your body.

Your legs shake and threaten to close around his head, but he holds you open, pumping his fingers and dragging out your pleasure until you’re gasping and struggling to sit up.

He looks up, his hair a mess from your hands and his lips wet and swollen. A shaky breath slides past your lips, and you watch as he stands, hovering over you and placing his arms on either side of your body.

“Do you need more reminding that I’d do anything you ask?”

“Javi,” you whisper, grabbing his face and pulling his lips down to yours, kissing them, kissing down his throat, your tongue gliding over his skin that tastes of sweat.

He takes you in his arms and lifts you up to a sitting position.

“Do you know which farm you want to go to?” he asks in between kisses.

“Mm hm,” you hum as your hands tug on the buttons of his shirt and you start to pull it free of his pants.

Your nails scratch over his skin and stop at his belt, working the buckle open so that it hangs loosely at the sides.

“You’re going to bake me things so when I come home I have something to eat after you.”

The sound of his zipper moving down makes you bite your bottom lip.

“Are we still talking about the apples and pumpkins?” you ask demurely. “Or do you have some housewife fantasy you want me to fulfill.”

He gives you a wicked smile.

“I wouldn’t have any problem with coming home to you in nothing but an apron and an apple pie in the oven angel,” he croons.

Your answer is the slide of your hand into his pants and a tight grip that makes him hiss out your name.

“I want that reminder Javi,” you purr. “Remind me you’re mine and you’d do anything I ask.”

The warm sun beats down on your face and you squint as you glance at Javi, seated next you, his sunglasses perched on his nose, his dark hair falling over his forehead, and his expression relaxed. His long arm is draped over your shoulders, and you’re tucked comfortably against his side as the tractor wobbles and shakes over every uneven patch of earth.

“This isn’t so bad right?” you ask him, pressing your palm to his stomach.

“Nothing bad about it angel,” he replies softly as he stretches his legs out in front of him and tugs you closer.

A large bag of apples and a stack of pumpkins awaits you at the end of the tractor ride and there’s definitely a freshly baked pie in Javi’s future.

[lunastrophe]

Do you have a favourite bit of drow lore?❤️

Oh, this is a hard question 😄

I suppose that my favourite bits of drow lore - or elven lore in general, in various fictional universes - are those subtle, often easy to overlook details that show how "other" drow are.

For example, in Drow of the Underdark (2e) it is mentioned that drow typically have long, slender and very sensitive fingers, and a highly developed tactile sense - which is probably an adaptation to living in dark, underground environment. It is also said that drow sometimes use subtle, braille-like tactile writing to communicate - for example, to leave messages on rock walls or stones that can be read only by other drow.

Drow also tend to have inhumanly nimble fingers - that is why non-drow are often unable to learn drow sign language (at least not to a degree of being perfectly fluent at it).

Also, drow hearing. Yes, it is also highly developed (elves, duh), but living in the Underdark heavily influenced how drow use their sense of hearing and how they perceive various sounds.

Underground soundscapes are very different from surface ones - typically, many creatures avoid attracting unwanted attention by staying silent, and practically every sound creates an echo. I imagine that for an average Underdark drow, surface would be a very noisy place and for some time, they would be confused by all these various new sounds, not knowing whether they mean "danger" or not.

Also, according to lore, drow tend to feel uneasy under open sky and feel much more comfortable when they have a roof (or something similar) over their heads.

Maybe that is one of the reasons why they often cover their heads with cowls when they visit surface - not only to shield themselves from sunlight and curious glances, but also from that vast void of the sky that makes them feel exposed and unsafe.

I really like how it was accentuated in Baldur's Gate where Viconia - as a companion - comments occasionally: There is no roof to this world. I feel as if I shall fall into this sky of yours sometimes.

I am not a fan of portraying elves as pretty humans with long ears and even longer lifespans - and in case of drow, there is also the matter of their unique environment. I really like stumbling across pieces of lore that show how different they are and how alien the surface world is to them (or at least to vast majority of them).

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Han Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️ (P.S. I should also mention that this one is a little bit suggestive but it's not horrible)

Ah, our sweet baby Jisung. I can see his first ever experience of weed coming through a joint. He always thought you looked badass when you smoked joints, and he always wanted to give it a shot. And while he did end up having a coughing fit the first few puffs (because he really just didn't want to listen to you since "you figured it out for yourself, so I can do the same"), he actually found himself getting really relaxed from smoking said joint.

Little did he know what was in store for him. See, Jisung, when he's high, can blab. And blab. And blab, and blab. And um, well...

Blab.

He completely uses his filter, and just says anything and everything that comes to mind. And I mean anything. Jisung will voice out one thing, and then will switch topics instantly. Something like this: "I'm really excited about my new song, because it's written in the sense that I've now found who I'm supposed to be, and I really think that...you know, you look really hot. We can come back to this topic later, I just...can we just fuck really quick?"

Oh, and it's not just this kind of switch. This man is also a foodie. Yeah, he can be craving you and want to dig in between your legs and stay put for forever, but he'll also want to eat just a shit ton of meat or junk food. No veggies though. Veggies are dumb, and they don't mean anything. But he can talk about work, to you, to sex, to wanting to have sex, to really just wanting a juicy burger from that one fast food place that's nowhere in Korea.

Now, Jisung doesn't have a filter when he talks when he's high. But if you thought that it was just that? You're VERY wrong. Jisung also doesn't have a filter when it comes to when he's actually physically doing things, too. Like, he just acts first, and then thinks later.

He'll be talking, and then go to the kitchen and take a piece of bread before stabbing it a few times. And then he'll eat it. Just...right then and there. And when you ask him why he did that, he'll shrug, saying "I don't know man, isn't it common sense to kill things before you eat them?"

So now comes the question of, "Will he do weed again?" And my answer for you is that yes, he will. He really enjoys how relaxed and carefree he is, and he feels like it's a great way to bond with you, too. Also...he just...he likes feeling like a badass with his tattoos and smoking a joint. Y'know?

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[pensat-i-fet]

Not important enough (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Another request I got a couple of weeks ago that really intrigued me when I first read it and I finally got what I thought was the right idea for it. I hope you enjoy a bit of angst and fluff on this lovely Sunday afternoon ❤️**

Word count: 2753

Masterlist

Wattpad

Your eyes hurt from staring at the laptop’s screen for too long so you took your glasses off to massage the inner corner of your eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure building near the bridge of your nose.

“Take a break”, said Rúben but you shook your head while keeping your eyes closed. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. You won’t be able to work properly while your eyes are teary from how tired they are”.

“Are you the doctor now?”

“Yes, it’s Dr Dias’ advice to take a break”.

You chuckled seeing his serious face. He was definitely not a doctor but he was right. So you got up and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea that could help you wake up a little.

“I could make it for you”, offered your boyfriend.

“I appreciate it but you never get the milk ratio right. And you always forget the honey”.

His pouty face made you laugh again and you got up on your tiptoes to peck his lips.

“I still love you despite your inability to make good tea”.

“It’s just you being too complicated”.

“I prefer high maintenance. Sounds more expensive”.

Even though Rúben couldn’t make tea, he was very good at getting your favourite biscuits so you could have them with your cuppa.

“Thank you. I can’t even remember when I last ate”.

“You’re working too hard”.

“Well, this project won’t finish itself, sadly. But it’s almost done. And then we enjoy showing it off to the world”.

Rúben moved closer to wrap his arms around your waist. “Everyone will see how smart you are and I’ll have to fight them all off. As if being pretty wasn’t enough for you. No, you had to be a genius too”.

Laughing at his joke, you turned to face him. “Well, when they see you by my side, they’ll know to keep their distance”.

“See me?”

“Yeah, you’re coming to the presentation, right?”

“Why would I? I’m not a doctor”.

“I’m not a football player and I go to your matches”, you said, removing his arms from around your body.

“It’s not the same, you understand football and can enjoy it. What am I supposed to do at that presentation? I won’t get anything you all say. I’m a dummy”, he tried to joke but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.

“It’s not about understanding it, Rúben. It’s about supporting me like I support you”.

Grabbing your cup, you went back to your desk. You were fuming but didn’t want to argue more. You were exhausted from all the hard work your boyfriend didn’t even care about.

“Of course I support you. I spent the last week worried about you working too much, trying to get you to take breaks, worried about your health…”.

“Sorry to be such an inconvenience to you”.

“That’s not what I meant. I like being worried”, he groaned, realising he just kept saying the wrong thing. “I don’t like being worried but I like looking after you. I don’t mind. I just…”.

“You look after me for weeks but can’t spend two hours sitting on some comfortable chairs listening to me talk about something I’ve worked on for months”.

“I told you, I won’t understand a thing so it’d be boring for me…”.

“Boring? You think I enjoy seeing 6-0 wins against Nottingham Forest?”

“You’re missing my point”.

“I’m not missing any points, Rúben. I see this very clearly. I'm not important enough for you to make a small effort”.

He flinched at your tone. You didn’t raise your voice but he could hear the hurt you felt in every word.

"It's like you only care about my career because it makes you look good".

“What? What does that even mean?”

"Every video you do, every interview is the same. Look at me. I'm so smart and I date someone smart. I'm not going out with bimbos like all the others".

“That’s not what I’m doing”.

“You might not notice but it is. It seems to me that you talk more about my career with others than you do with me”.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Yes, sometimes it is. Right now, for example".

“I never meant to make you feel like that”, he says, his voice so low you could barely hear him.

“Yeah, well…but thank you for giving me an excuse to not go to your matches. I also find them very boring. But I’ll make sure to tell everyone I’m dating a footballer just to show off”.

Rúben was hurt by your words but cared more about how he had been hurting you by doing something he wasn’t even aware of, so he just left you to keep working. When you were angry, you needed time to cool down. So he would give you time.

But by the time he was getting ready for bed, you were still working and he didn’t know what to do. Normally, he would try to get you to stop working so you could rest. But now he feared another argument happening so he didn’t say anything.

The following morning, Rúben woke up and found your side of the bed was empty and it looked like you hadn’t slept there. That really worried him. He knew you were capable of staying up all night working. You told him about all the times you did that in uni during exams.

But you weren’t working. You were asleep… on the sofa. He shook his head, noticing your bad posture. Now you’d be angry at him and in pain. Great.

“Wake up”, he said gently, caressing your face.

“No”.

“If you want to sleep, you need to go to bed. Your back will kill you later for sleeping here”.

You finally turned to face him and he noticed the way you looked at him. No longer angry, but still hurt.

“What do I need to do so you forgive me? Name it and I will”.

“Too late to pretend you care, Rúben”, you said, getting up and going to your bed.

He followed you, but when he saw you cover your head with the blankets, he let you rest. There will be time to talk later.

                                       **

Bernardo worried seeing how weird his friend was behaving since he got to the training centre. He didn’t push him around once, so there was something wrong for sure.

“What’s going on?”, he asked, sitting next to Rúben, who had been staring at his phone for a while.

“Huh?”

“You’re acting weird. Everything alright?”

“Sure, other than the fact that my girlfriend doesn’t even want to speak to me because I’m an idiot”.

“What did you do?”

“She’s been working on this huge project for months and has to do a presentation next week”, he said, and Bernardo kept nodding to show he was listening. “And she thought I would go to the presentation but I didn’t expect her to invite me. I mean, that’s for doctors and such. I’m not smart enough to be there. So she got angry at me for not supporting her”.

“She’s got a point”.

Rúben sighed. “I know she does. But that’s not the worst thing. She thinks I only care about her career because it makes me look good to date a doctor. But that’s not true”.

“So”, said Bernardo, looking at Rúben’s phone. “Your solution to that is buying flowers? Really?”

Rúben locked his phone, annoyed at his inability to fix this. “It’s a start. She likes flowers”.

“I think what you two need to do is talk”.

Rúben knew his friend was right but still bought a bouquet of flowers on his way home. It couldn’t hurt, right?

“Hello?”

No response. Maybe you were out. That’d actually be good because you need the fresh air.

“Hi”, you said, taking your laptop from the kitchen to go back to your desk.

“You don’t need to hide from me”.

“I need silence to work. And are those for me?”

“Yes, I just thought it could cheer you up to see some fresh flowers. I got your favourites”.

“Thanks”, you said, but barely looked at the bouquet and went back to your desk.

Rúben knew he should allow you all the time you needed to stop being angry but he had to leave in two hours.

“Please, let’s just talk and fix this. I have to leave and I don’t want to be away from you knowing you’re mad at me”.

“We can talk when you come back from the match”.

At least you wanted to talk. “Ok. I’ll leave the tickets under your name like always…”.

“Don’t bother. I’m not going”.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“Too boring. And I have work to do”.

“But you’re always at my matches supporting me”.

“Yes, I know. I wish the support went both ways instead of being so one-sided”.

With that, you closed the door and Rúben knew there was nothing he could do. So he picked up his things and left. He could drive around the city for a couple of hours and try to relax. But the guilt didn’t allow him to do it.

You hated arguments. Always had. But arguments with Rúben hurt even more. Still…you were right to be angry. You were only asking for two hours of his time when you had spent God knows how many at matches. Even travelling to other countries to support him.

But then you went to the kitchen and saw the flowers and felt terrible for being so harsh. You could feel the tears in your eyes while you got the vase and placed the flowers there. He was trying but just didn’t understand why he had hurt you so much.

Somehow, you managed to sleep for a couple of hours. And when you woke up, you headed to the shower to get ready for the day. There was a lot of work that needed to be done. And then there was Rúben.

Rúben also only slept for a couple of hours, which wasn’t ideal before a match. But he couldn’t stop thinking about your argument. And knowing you weren’t going to be there supporting him really showed him how painful it must have been for you to hear he wouldn’t attend your presentation.

The match was thankfully pretty uneventful. Otherwise, he would have been in trouble because he hadn’t been able to concentrate properly at all. His teammates must have noticed how silent he was but didn’t say anything. They knew he didn’t take it well when his performance was subpar so they just assumed that was what was bugging him.

“Hi. Can you drive me home?”, he turned when he heard your voice and found you standing awkwardly. “I called an Uber to come to the stadium so…can I go back home with you?”

He nodded, not believing you were there. “I thought you weren’t coming to the match”.

“I’m always here to support you, Rúben. No matter how badly you mess up”.

He finally had a reason to smile and the smile only got bigger when you hugged him. “I don’t deserve you”.

“Don’t say that. And I’m sorry I was so mean to you but you really hurt me”.

“I know”, he said, moving back to look at you. “I get it. And I’m sorry. I’d love to go to that presentation even if I don’t understand anything. I want to support you, always”.

“You don’t have to…”.

“But I do. And…yes, you were right about me showing off how smart you are. But it’s not to pretend to be better than others. It’s just because I can’t believe someone as smart as you would want to be with an idiot like me who only knows how to kick a ball”.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You also know how to head a ball”, you joked, making him laugh. “You aren’t stupid, Rúben. I would never date someone stupid. I've got high standards”.

“I feel very stupid now”.

“Wait until you go to the presentation, then”.

                                     **

After months of hard work, it was time to show it to the world and you were absolutely terrified.

"Why are you staring at yourself like that?", asked Rúben when he got inside the room and saw you standing in front of the mirror, only wearing a towel after your shower.

"I forgot everything I've ever learnt".

"No, you haven't. Did you take something for your anxiety?"

When you shook your head, he went back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and then took one of your tablets from the nightstand. You thanked him and took the tablet, letting out a big sigh afterwards.

"Need anything else?"

"No, I just have to get dressed and do my hair and makeup. Nothing too fancy. I won't take long".

You grabbed the clothes and went to the bathroom. And just twenty minutes later, you came out and Rúben couldn't stop staring at you.

"You look so sexy".

"I'm not supposed to look sexy, Rúben. I'm supposed to look professional".

You went back to the mirror to see your outfit again. Was the skirt too short? Should you do the top button of the blouse too?

"You look professional. But also sexy because you just can't help it".

That made you chuckle. "Heels or flats?"

"Heels and that skirt…".

"Rúben, you're drooling".

"And that's just from imagining it. When I see you actually wearing them, I'll need CPR. Thank God I live with a doctor".

You rolled your eyes and found the earrings you wanted to wear before putting on your heels.

"See? You didn't faint".

"No, but is this normal?", he asked, grabbing your hand and putting it on his chest so you could notice how fast his heart was beating, which only made you roll your eyes again.

"Let's go or we'll be late".

Only five minutes into the presentation, Rúben realized how wrong he had been. Boring? This topic was fascinating!

He actually enjoyed listening to the physios whenever they chatted with each other about the player's injuries. Even if he didn't understand many words they said. But he made himself feel better thinking he probably knew them in Portuguese but not in English.

By the time you were done with the presentation, he was even more impressed by how smart you were. And you always played it down saying you just knew the same as every doctor but Rúben could hear other people whispering about how brilliant your presentation was so he knew that brain of yours was very special.

Everyone stood to applaud you and your colleagues but no one did as enthusiastically as Rúben. Actually, one of the men on his right looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's my girlfriend", he said, pointing at the stage.

The only boring part was having to wait for you by the car. So many people wanted to talk to you and congratulate you…but Rúben just wanted to get his girlfriend back.

"Finally!", you said, approaching the car and taking your shoes off.

"You were so brilliant!", said Rúben, lifting you in his arms and spinning you around. "Everyone talked about how good your research was. You should have heard them. And you looked so good too. My extremely smart and sexy doctor".

You were still laughing when he finally put you back down. "I take it wasn't boring then".

"Boring? I have so many questions. Let's get in the car and you can start answering them. That last bit about the muscle tissue blew my mind".

"I'm a bit tired of talking. Could we leave the questions for tomorrow?"

Rúben realized how exhausted you looked and nodded. "Sure, whenever you can and want".

You got into the car and closed your eyes, trying to calm down after such an intense event.

"But just one thing. That first procedure you explained, could it be applied to athletes too? I think our doctors would love to hear your presentation".

Opening your eyes, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend. And you couldn't help but smile at him and his excitement. "Do you want me to do the presentation again but for them?", you laughed.

"Only if I get to be there. I'll bring a notebook to take notes and everything".

"Don't worry. I heard you're sleeping with the professor, I'm sure she'll let you borrow her notes".