#it ceases to be a good measure.”

[ghostjelliess]

Publishing: comp titles should show where your book will sit on a shelf. They should be from the last five years and not bestsellers!

Every book on the shelf: BESTSELLER! NYT BESTSELLER! USA TODAY BESTSELLER! INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER! SOON-TO-BE BESTSELLER! TIKTOK DARLING NOW A BESTSELLER!

Agent MSWL: *bestseller* *bestseller* *ultra-mega-bestseller* *ridonculously bestseller*

Me, querying: 😅😅😅 Ummm... It's a black-and gold book... It fits in with the other adult science-fantasy black and gold books 🤗

Nothing in this world makes sense including meeeeee 👻🙃🤡 But look at the pretty stack of black and gold (and Gilgamesh lol).

[lena-oleanderson]

sort of a companion to this poem.

[quasi-normalcy]

Today I learnt of Goodhart's Law, which holds that once a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure.

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

word count: 1.7k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy and conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: what starts as a casual movie night between friends turns into a complicated mix of desire and tension

PART ONE - next part

You're sprawled out on Lando's couch, your bare feet propped up on the armrest as he flips through the latest additions to Netflix. The warm Monaco breeze drifts in through the balcony doors, but it does nothing to cool the tension in the room.

It was never supposed to feel like this—charged, unpredictable. Lando is your brother Max’s best friend, the guy you’d grown up around, teasing and tormenting in equal measure. Somewhere along the line, though, your banter had started to feel different.

“You’re impossible to entertain,” Lando teases you, tossing the remote onto the coffee table and starting Drive to Survive. Obviously giving up on finding something to watch and wanting to annoy you.

“That’s because you have the attention span of a goldfish,” you shoot back at him, a grin on your lips.

He rolls his eyes, but his gaze lingers on you just a second too long. These playful insults have been your routine for years, ever since Lando had turned into one of your friends as well, but now there was something simmering underneath, something that neither of you want to address—but also can’t really ignore.

It started a few nights ago at a party Max had hosted. You’d been halfway through your fourth drink when Lando had cornered you in the kitchen. “You ever wonder what it’d be like?” he’d asked, leaning ever so casually against the counter like he hadn’t just sent your pulse racing.

“Wonder about what?“

“Us,” he said, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

You’d laughed it off, obviously, calling him ridiculous. But the way his eyes had lingered told you he wasn’t joking.

Now, back on his couch, the question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. You catch him sneaking another glance at you, his lips curving into a smirk when you do. “You really meant it, didn’t you?” you blurt out before you can stop herself.

“Meant what?” he asks, though the way his smirk deepens says he already knows.

“At Max’s party,” you say, sitting up a little straighter. “What you said about us.” Lando sets his drink down, turning to face you fully. “What if I did?” Your heart is racing.

“Lando, you’re my brother’s best friend. This—” You gesture between you two. “This isn’t a good idea. This shouldn’t even be on our minds.”

“Why not? Max doesn’t have to know.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes betray the intensity behind his words. “It’s just… curiosity, right? Just once. To get it out of our systems.” Your heart is pounding now. You want to laugh, to tell him he’s being completely ridiculous. But the way he’s looking at you—with heat and determination—makes your knees weak and your resolve waver.

You take a deep breath. “One time,” you finally say, but your voice is barely above a whisper.

Before you can even second-guess your words and decision, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent. Logic evaporates in the heat of the moment, your hands finding his curls, tangling in his hair as he pulls you closer.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips, against his. And it’s like a spark igniting a wildfire. Lando‘s hands slip from your face, trailing down to your waist and then your hips, pulling you closer until you’re practically sitting on his lap. Your fingers still in his hair, his curls slipping between them as your tilt your head to deepen the kiss even more.

The world outside ceases to exist. There's no Monaco skyline, no brother waiting for your response to his last text—just the feeling of Lando‘s lips, insistent and skilled, and the heat coursing through your body.

Lando breaks away just long enough to look at you, cheeks red and panting, “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispers, his voice husky.

Your mind starts racing, because you too have thought about this one too many times, but before you can respond, his lips are back on yours, hungrier this time. The kiss feels like he’s been holding himself back for years, like he has to make up for all the times he thought about kissing you but didn’t. His teeth graze your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from you and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your hands leave his hair, your fingertips sliding across his shoulders and arms to settle on his chest. The action makes him shiver and he groans softly as you draw circles with your fingers. While you’re still overthinking everything about this, Lando’s reaction sends a jolt of confidence through you.

“Baby,” Lando murmurs against your lips, trying to catch his breath. A term of endearment now, but usually used to tease you.

The mention of your nickname in relation to all of this, makes you pull back slightly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you let your forehead rest against his. His eyes meet yours, dark and stormy and filled with something that looks a lot like longing.

“This insane, Lando,” you whisper, your fingers now tracing the outline of his jaw. Feeling light stubble in his skin.

“Yeah maybe,” his voice low and rough as he still tries to catch his own breath, “Insane, but it doesn’t feel wrong,”

And then Lando kisses you again. This time slower, more deliberate. His hands now starting to roam from your hips to under your shirt, feeling the skin on your back. You let yourself get lost in it, in him, your worries melting away as his lips leave yours and travel to your cheek and then find the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

He tries to pull you even closer, your legs settling on either side of his lap now. Letting you feel everything. You know there’s no going back now, how could you ever pretend you don’t know how this feels now? This isn’t just one kiss, this is everything they’ve been holding back, every stolen glance and lingering touch coming to a head.

Just as you pull his lips back onto yours, there’s a ring sounding through the apartment, followed by a knock on the door and Max‘s voice, “Dude, I’ve called like seven times. I’ve got the snacks and you’ve got the streaming set,”

Lando’s eyes widen, and your heart drops into your stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whisper loudly, scooting off his lap and onto your feet. Your hands now flying up into your own hair to smooth it down.

“Shit,” Lando mutters, glancing toward the door and then back at you. “I forgot he was coming over to stream.”

“Well, don’t just sit there,” you hiss at him. “We need to get it together before he gets suspicious,“

Lando frantically grabs his hoodie off the couch, yanking it over his head to hide his mussed hair. You cross over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to busy yourself and hope you don’t look as flushed as you feel.

Then Lando opens the door, Max steps in with his usual laid-back grin firmly in place. “Finally,” Max says, holding up the bag of snack. “What were you doing, hiding?”

“No, just… cleaning up,” Lando says, his tone just a tad too casual as he steps aside to close the door. Your brother looks past him and spots you leaning on the counter, sipping from your water. “Movie night, huh?”

“Yep,” you reply brightly, ever so grateful that your voice doesn’t betray you. “I fell asleep though.” You add, hoping it’ll explain the redness in your face.

Max laughs and walks over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table. “Wow, you didn’t invite me? Rude.”

“You were busy with Petra earlier,” Lando answers quickly, shooting you a subtle look to make sure things between you are okay.

Max shrugs, “Fair enough.” He turns his attention back to you. “What did you guys watch?”

“Oh, um…” You blink, your mind drawing a blank for a moment. “Drive to Survive,” Lando interjects smoothly. “Can you believe she hasn’t seen the latest season yet?“

Your brother snorts, “You’re seriously watching yourself on TV now? That’s some next-level narcissism, mate.” It’s your turn to laugh now, thankful for the distraction. “It was his idea, not mine,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

Max shakes his head and drops the bag of snacks onto the counter. “You two are weird. Alright, shall we get on with it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lando answers with a nod, throwing a quick glance at you. “You okay here?”

“Yup, I’ll just finish the popcorn and crash on the couch until you’re done,” you say breezily, hoping your tone comes across as casual. Max doesn’t even think twice about it. “Cool. Don’t eat all of it.”

Lando hesitates for a fraction of a second before following Max toward the streaming setup in the spare room. As soon as the door shuts behind them, you let out a breath and sink onto the couch, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Your fingers brush over your lips, still warm from the kiss. You thought the sudden interruption might douse the heat between you and Lando, but if anything, it made the tension even worse. Your mind keeps replaying the way Lando had looked at you, the way his hands felt on your body.

From down the hall, you can hear the muffled sounds of their voices as the stream starts. “Alright, chat, let’s get this going,” You hear Lando say, his voice cheerful and animated, as if nothing had happened.

You let out a small, wry laugh. Of course, he can compartmentalize everything so easily. Meanwhile, you are sitting on his couch, replaying every second of what just happened like it was burned into your memory.

You tell yourself to let the moment pass. But something in the pit of your stomach tells you this isn’t just a fleeting lapse of judgement. Whatever this thing between you and Lando is, it’s dangerous.

And you aren’t sure you want to go back to the way it was before.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Leave

Synopsis: As Aemond grew conscious of the court noticing you and his closeness, he makes drastic measures to cease their wagging tongues, even if it meant that things would return to how they first were. Warnings: None (yet), Slight Angst, Cold and Silent Aemond, Infatuation, Jealousy PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART A/N: I'm sorry, don't be mad at me-- i fear this was needed.

“They are quite close, are they not?” Aemond heard the hushed whisper of a court member as he had his arm linked with yours as you picked flowers in the garden. Your knight is holding a basket that houses your kitten, who slept through the afternoon, and the flowers you picked. Aemond had felt the eyes of the court focused on the two of you as of late. He swallowed thickly as you stepped closer to him, placing a flower in the niche of his armor, smiling up fondly upon your knight, which caused the whispers of the observers to grow louder, but it would seem you were oblivious to it. 

“Too close, if you ask me… it does make one wonder,” He heard a lord’s snide comment, making Aemond tense. He looked around and caught the eyes of a group of lords looking upon him quizically as he was arm-in-arm with the princess of the realm. It was not as if he was the one to link your arms; you had done it of your own volition, and who was he to remove his arm around yours? “What’s your favorite flower, Ser Aemond?” You asked, voice dreamy and distant as you were too distracted by the freshly bloomed flowers that came in time just before the end of the summer. “I do not have one, princess.” He replied, trying to ignore the curious gazes of the court. 

“That’s not right! Everyone must have their favorite! Here, smell this,” You say and stand on the tip of your toes as you practically shove a flower upon your sworn protector’s face. Aemond’s eye went to the spectators once more, whispering in each other’s ears and scandal heavy in their eyes. “I…I do not care for it, princess,” He gritted, not actually able to breathe as their gazes were piercing through him. You frowned and removed the flower away from your knight. Your frown furthered as he removed your linked arms and took a step away from you. You bit the insides of your cheeks, fearing you had offended your knight, but you kept silent and let him keep his distance. 

Throughout the afternoon, you noticed Ser Aemond had made additional space between you two— space that had dissolved during the moons of being in your station but had immediately returned in just one afternoon. You tried not to fret about the distance, however unaccustomed and odd it felt. When night came, Ser Aemond walked behind you as you threaded the halls to the dining room. “You should have supper as well, Ser Aemond.” You say before entering the doors. You turned to your knight, expecting to lock eyes with his unique lilac gaze that was lustrous when in the light of the moon, but Ser Aemond could not even look you in the eye. You hid your confusion and disappeared behind the door, silently hoping Ser Aemond would take your advice and actually eat.

“I cannot believe summer is already at an end,” You tried to make conversation as you and Ser Aemond walked to your chambers. You passed a few court members passing you two by as they walked their way back to their own chambers. You smiled and bid them ‘good evening,’ waiting for your knight to reply to your statement, but he stayed silent. “Good night, Ser Aemond,” you smiled sweetly as you reached your door; you had hoped he would at least return that one simple greeting, but all he did was nod and move to stand on his post, still not meeting your eye. When you retired for the night, you could not help but overthink your knight’s aloof action, and you could only hope that all would return to the way it was the following day. It did not. 

“Good morning, Ser Aemond,” You chirped, trying to display a cheery disposition despite your confusion towards your knight’s stoic behavior that you thought you had broken through. He only nodded, and you did not want to acknowledge the pit in your stomach. Had you made a transgression upon him that you were unaware of? Have you offended him? Your mind ran with thoughts and questions that could only answered by your knight, who seemed to ignore you once more.

As Aemond stood behind you as you ate your first meal of the day, he observed the small pout on your lips and the light furrow in your brows. He trailed his gaze around the gardens, observing other highborn ladies with their sworn protectors—a respectable distance between them. The noblewomen never seem to acknowledge the presence of their knights. Speaking to them as if they were mere servants and not even human. Never acknowledging nor thanking them for their service, however meager or great they were—a complete contrast to how you treat him. He then recalled the talk he would engage with his fellow knights, them telling him horrid stories about the ladies they guard— telling Aemond how lucky he was and how jealous they were to be stationed to you. Despite your tendencies to run off, they would prefer to be your guard rather than be stuck with the other snobbish ladies of the court. 

As the day went on, Aemond placed great restraint on himself to keep his distance from you. No matter how second nature it had become for him to walk beside you, he walked a few steps behind. As you walked the empty halls, the silence got the better of you, making you halt in your steps and turn to your knight. “Had I done something wrong?” You asked with a tilt of your head, unable to bear the eerie quiet between you and your knight. Aemond cautiously looked around the halls as you stepped closer to him and him trying his best to slyly back away. “No.” He responded curtly. You frowned, “Then… You usually walk by my side; why are you back there? And—and you had not spoken to me since yesterday. Are you mad at me?” You asked, fearing for his reply. “I am not, princess.” He said, but he could still not even meet your gaze. “You are! You could not even look me in the eye! What have I done?” You countered. Aemond grew conscious as you uncharacteristically raised your voice, possibly catching the attention of any passersby. 

Aemond bit his tongue and took hold of your arm to pull you to the niche of an alcove and away from curious eyes and prying ears. “You had not done anything,” he whispered. “Then why are you acting so distant? If I had done nothing wrong, then why are you ignoring me?” You asked. Aemond breathed in deeply, not knowing how to word out his thoughts. “The court is…” He trailed, and you waited for him to finish his thought, but Aemond second-guessed and held back his tongue. “The court is what?” You urged.

Aemond sighed. “The court is growing curious about our proximity,” He explained, but that only seemed to confuse you further. “Our proximity? But you need to be by my side.” You said you were unable to grasp what Ser Aemond meant. “Not our physical proximity— well, perhaps that too— but what I mean is, they are curious to are… familiarity.” He said, unable to clearly articulate what he meant. Your lips parted in further confusion, “Well, yes, because you are my friend. Is there something the matter with that?” Aemond blinked at your words. “I am your knight.” He clarified. “You are. You are my sworn protector as well as my friend.” You explained further. Aemond breathed in disbelief, “I am not your friend, princess.” He gritted, and you felt a twitch in your chest.  “I am simply your knight. Who is by your side because my duty.” He added. His eye grew colder the moment he uttered the words. You lowered your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you had considered Ser Aemond a friend when he only viewed you as his task. “And it would be best if we keep a sense of professionalism and boundaries, princess. I still have a post to fulfill.” 

You nodded, biting harshly on your tongue as you felt a burning in your nose. Tears started forming in your eyes, but you refused to let them be seen by Ser Aemond. “Very well then, if that is what you wish.” You said, trying not to let your voice waver and forcing it to have the same pitch as when you usually spoke, even forcing a small pleasing smile on your lips to try and convince your knight and even yourself that his words did not struck something in you. You could not believe how quickly things changed. Just as you and your knight began to grow comfortable and accustomed to each other— dare you say, even close, all things returned to the first days of him being in his station. Ser Aemond returned to his armored demeanor of being stoic, silent, and distant. A coldness you did not think you would feel again as you foolishly believed that the warmness built and tended to in your knight would go forevermore. 

When the following day came, you awoke with a few tears sliding from the side of your eyes; unable to account the reason for your crying, you convinced yourself it was because of a dream that came in the dead of night that you could not recall. You lay on your featherbed and heard the silent chatter of two voices; one was from your knight, and the other was from your chambermaid. The two conversing on the other side of your door. You lay still and eavesdropped on their conversation, surprised as you heard a smile on your knight’s voice and a quiet laugh escaping the lips of your chambermaid. 

You took in deep, calming breaths as you felt a burning in your chest. When you hear your door open, you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, waiting for your chambermaid to open the drapes and wake you. When light flooded your room, you pretended to wake, feigning drowsiness and yawning fictiously. “Good morning, princess,” Celia smiled widely, seemingly elated with her conversation with Ser Aemond. You could only give her a slight smile, the painful throb in your chest hindering you from speaking and making you forget about the manners instilled greatly in your mind. 

As the day went on, you would often catch a glimpse of your chambermaid, Celia, along the halls and the gardens where you frequented. Her usual duties were not anywhere near where you would frequent, yet you would often catch her walking the same halls as where you and Ser Aemond went. A coy smile was on her lips each time she passed you and your knight, and a blush came to her cheeks as Ser Aemond met her gaze. You could not explain why, but you felt ill— as if you would wish to heave each time you caught their small interactions. You felt queasy the entire day, and you even brought yourself to the Maester’s tower to have yourself checked as you tried to convince yourself that the uneasiness you felt was brought forth because of an identified illness and not because of envy. Envy because your knight had rejected your friendship and began to ignore you once more but was effortlessly cordial with others who were not you.

“There is nothing wrong, princess— you are the picture of health.” The Maester smiled as he finished assessing you, your knight standing by the door, trying his best not to let his concern be seen. It was odd of you to willingly come to the Maester to have yourself checked, even when you were taken by a fever a few moons before; you hid your ailment from everyone, and your sickness was only discovered when Aemond accidentally brushed his hand with your forehead and felt the grave fever that you had hidden from them. 

“Are you certain? I feel squeamish and… and as if bile is rising to my throat,” You said, and the Maester hummed as he pondered over your words. “Perhaps it is all of those sweets you have in the afternoon,” He said, and you paled, already feeling regret about bringing yourself to the Maester’s tower to identify a sickness that was not real but rather brought forth by denial. “Best to lay off them for now, princess. Just for a few days, and once you feel better, you could have your favorite custard tarts once more.” The Maester reassured as he saw the devastation on your face. “I can tell the cook that you no longer require your afternoon treats for the next few days; I am on my to the kitchens anyway.” You dejectedly nodded and walked out of the room with your head hung low as you did not think of the consequences of your feigned ailment. 

Ser Aemond watched as you were sullen the entire day, unable to conclude if your somberness was because of his words the day before or because your favorite sweets were kept from you. Either way, he felt guilt consuming his insides, unable to bear to watch the once lively princess be consumed by melancholia.

A few days passed with you and Ser Aemond keeping your distance from one another, and as much as you tried to appear to be unbothered by the sudden change in your demeanors and routine, a constant and pestering feeling still overcame you. Gnawing at you throughout the night and even more so in the morning as Ser Aemond was in your presence. 

“You’re not eating,” Your brother observed, surprised to see your plate barely touched. He was concerned as he recalled that you only had a few spoonfuls during supper the other night. “I’m not particularly hungry,” You smiled and sipped your tea, feeling the fleeting gaze of your knight at the back of your head before quickly turning away. “Are you well? Do you feel ill?” Your brother questioned, finding your behavior odd. “Of course I am, do not fret, brother.” You forced your smile to be bigger, trying to convince your sibling. He gave an unconvinced nod and stayed silent but still eyed you in concern. 

When supper came, you could no longer bear to be in the silent and detached attitude of your knight, especially after you had broken through his armor. You pursed your lips as you were deep in thought as to how to proceed, simply playing with the tepid food on your plate. “Father?” You called, interrupting his and your brother’s conversation, the eyes of your family turning to you. “Could I make a request?” You asked, already widening your eyes and playing with your father’s sympathy. “You could, but my granting it would depend on what it is,” He hummed. “Well, seeing that we are only here for another week, I was thinking if you could remove my gua—“ 

“No.” He and your brother said in unison, and your mother breathed out a silent laugh. “I was not done explaining!” You said, and your brother rolled his eyes, “It is out of the question.” You shook your head and continued on anyway. “It is only for a week— and I swear, I shall only stay in the castle grounds; I will not even venture onto the shore!” Your father shook his head, taking a big bite of his meal. “You have a guard for a reason,” Your brother spoke once more. 

“I know that! And a guard is placed in case of danger— but what danger shall come to this castle? It is impregnable! Not only are guards patrolling each gate and hall, but we also have the navy! Even you yourself had said that the summer palace has a better defense than the one in the capitol!” You and your brother began to argue, your voices growing louder and both of you not caring that the other spoke. “Enough!” Your father suddenly roared, banging his fist upon the wooden table to cease your and your brother’s bickering. 

“You are aware of my tendency to escape,” You say, taking the opportunity of momentary silence. Your brother snorted, “We are,” Your father sighed. “But you do not know the reason for it.” You say, and they were rendered silent, except for your mother. “You do it for attention— you find it amusing when guards are beside themselves searching for you— you are not satisfied until you put your family through panic.” You frowned at your mother’s words, a different pang in your heart as you heard how she truly viewed you. Your brother was quick to notice your deflated shoulders and the urge in you to tear up. “Why?” He asked. 

You licked your lips, “I just wish for a resemblance of independence— where a guard does not trail and follow each movement I make— I am comparable to a prisoner!” You say, and your mother snorts at your words, and you try your best to ignore her. “It’s just that this is the perfect opportunity for me to even have a resemblance of the freedom I crave— and if you grant me this, it will sedate my desire to escape and find independence myself.” You finished explaining, hoping your father would consider your request, for they had kept you caged your entire life. 

You were only curious to know what it was like to be unencumbered by the constant presence of a guard who did nothing but oversee each action you took, ready to report any transgression you make and will make to your father and brother. And in truth, you could not stomach being in the presence of Ser Aemond at the moment because even though he was in your near proximity, his silence and indifference made you feel furthermore lonely than you felt when you were alone. 

There was a palpable silence that enveloped the table for a moment, you looking upon your father and imploring him to bend to your will. He took in a deep breath and a large gulp of his wine. “Very well then, you shall be without a guard— but only for this week.” He said, bringing a true smile to your lips as you were overjoyed that you could not even pay mind to your mother, who rolled her eyes as you were granted what you wanted, as always. “Thank you, Father! And I swear I shall only be by the east wing and gardens!” You reassured, and your brother shook his head in disbelief. “You better be,” Your father sighed, but a small smile twitched on his lips as he saw the joy on your face. 

“Tell your sister’s guard that he is dismissed for the week,” Your father ordered your brother as he stood; your brother sat in disbelief at your father’s decision. “You heard father, go!” You smiled triumphantly as your parents retired for the night, leaving you and your brother seated by the table, facing one another. Your brother grumbled and stood, stomping outside to speak with your knight.

“You are dismissed, Ser Aemond.” Your brother sighed as he spoke with your knight, who waited for you on the other side of the door. A frown quickly overcame Aemond’s face. “What do you mean, my prince? Have I not fulfilled my station?” He questioned, trying not to show the rage that was simmering in him. “What I mean is, you are dismissed for the week— you shall retrun to your station when we are to retrun to the capitol.” Your brother explained further, but that did not aid Aemond's confusion. 

“My sister has requested our father for independence— insisted that she is not in need of a knight for the time being and father had granted her request. You are dismissed for the week. Take it as a rest— I know how demanding it must be to look upon my sister.” Aemond bit his tongue, turning to the ajar door of the dining room, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, who had asked your father to dismiss him. He did not. 

“I still do not understand, my prince,” Ser Aemond repeated, and your brother breathed out a laugh. “Nor do I.” He muttered. “But you are free for the week. You may leave the castle and find other lodging if you please or not; it is up to you. Either way, you are unburdened by duties for the remainder of our stay here, so I advise you to rest and make the most out of your leave.” Your brother added, giving a nod as an indication for Ser Aemond to walk away. Aemond gritted his jaw, turning to the ajar door once more, and only saw a glimpse of your sullen face as you waited for your brother’s return. He nodded at the prince and took his leave, just as you wanted. 

Taglist: @anukulee @ladyriverasafespace @rebeccawinters @gayfiretruck @bellarkeselection @thhriller @bittersweetmargarita @jellybeanstacey0519 @ewanmitchellfanatic

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃Seventeen and spotting their S/O during a concert❃

A/N: sooo like a lot of you I will be going to Lollapalooza in Berlin in September to see Seventeen. I am very excited to get the chance to see them live after having been a carat for such an incredibly long time. Anyway, hopefully, I will see some of you there! Let’s have a great time together and be extra loud for the boys!

To celebrate Seventeen’s acknowledgement of the European continent, here is a small prompt about them spotting their S/O during their concert. This prompt might be a little short as I am slowly getting back into writing and creating 13 different reactions takes a lot of time so bear with me as I find my footing again!

 Scoups/Seungcheol:

❀ Coups will be all smiles the moment he spots you in the crowd. You had kept it secret from him that you would be attending, and now it finally makes sense to him why you had been so weird when he asked you what you were going to be doing tonight whilst he was gone.

❀ He tries not to draw too much attention to you being there, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. However, he is having a difficult time not glancing in your direction and subconsciously wanders near to where you are sitting whenever they are not dancing.

❀ The moment he sees you are cold, he makes sure to hand over his hoodie to you. For good measure, he donates his bucket hat as well; what if your ears get cold? You know what, he is going to ask the staff to hand you some hot packs, just in case.

❀ He goes hard on the sexy parts of the songs, giving it his all. He wants to impress you; you better bring some holy water.

Jeonghan

❀ At first, you might assume that Jeonghan is completely unaware that you are in the crowd, watching him perform. There is nothing to indicate that he has noticed you as he continues to perform as he normally would, cool on the outside.

❀ However, in actuality, Jeonghan spotted you almost immediately and is absolutely thrilled to see you; he is just more subtle with it than some of the other members. Throughout the concert, he tries to communicate his excitement mainly through small gestures, only noticeable to those who know him well. For instance, he will walk past your spot, giving you a cheeky wink or be a bit more energetic with the members.  

❀ He also starts teasing you by making obscure inside jokes and references to funny stories during talking segments, subtly mentioning some of your embarrassing moments he witnessed.

❀ He will try to convince Seungkwan to force you to sing the Aju Nice high note for his own enjoyment, laughing when you fail.

Joshua

❀ Joshua always felt apprehensive about inviting you to his concerts, not because he didn't want you there but because he didn't want to pressure you into attending. So when you decide to surprise him by attending without telling him, he turns all mushy.

❀ He sends you small, soft smiles throughout the concert. The smiling doesn’t cease during the performances either; Joshua keeps smiling even during songs where smiling doesn't really fit the concept, as he is supposed to be all sexy and mysterious.

❀ During the vocal ballads, he seeks you out in the crowd again. Throughout the song, he makes eye contact with you, expressing his love for you through the lyrics of the song.

❀ When he is asked to sing a song he recently has been listening to during one of the talking segments, he will make sure to sing a snippet of your favourite song.  

Jun

❀ Jun is so focused during the concert that he doesn't initially notice you in the crowd. The other members have to point it out to him; Seungkwan gently nudges him during one of the talking segments, bringing your presence to his awareness.

❀ Rather than getting smiley or more energetic, Jun, instead, gets a bit shy when he makes eye contact with you. He suddenly regrets all the weird stuff his members made him do during the talking segments of the concert.

❀ Once he eases up, though, his happiness at seeing you outweighs his shyness. The members notice he is extra energized during the concert, continuously bouncing around the stage during the Aju Nice encore.

❀ Somewhere during the concert, DK and Hoshi convince him to wave in your direction. Thus, you get the cutest, most bashful tiny wave, followed by him hiding behind a laughing Mingyu.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Okay, where the other members would probably keep their relationships private for as long as possible, Hoshi probably would not be able to keep your relationship secret for long. This man is the king of spoilers, and if fans weren't aware of him being in a relationship before the concert, they for sure know about it after.

❀ He is another member who initially doesn't notice that you are there until another member points it out. Woozi didn't even intend to bring it to Hoshi's awareness; he had merely noted that you had seemed to enjoy their performance of Hot, making Hoshi realize you had been there all along.

❀ His energy explodes the moment he spots you in the crowd. Everything is cranked to the max; he is performing at 200% and is running across the stage as if his life depends on it. Hoshi wants to make you laugh, regularly checking whether his unhinged joke or skit landed by glancing in your direction.

❀ Throughout the concert, he sends exaggerated gestures your way. He continuously is horanghae-ing in your direction and blowing kisses, not bothered in the slightest that technically he should be keeping your relationship on the down low.

Wonwoo

❀ Chances are that this man is too blind to spot you in the crowd. Wonwoo has admitted that he never wears contact lenses on stage and, thus, cannot see anything or anyone in front of him. Consequently, if it hadn't been for Mingyu pointing you out to him, Wonwoo would never have known you had attended the concert.

❀ As a result, he momentarily puts in contact lenses just so that he can see your smile. However, rather than feeling energized by your presence, he is another member who gets painfully shy upon spotting you.

❀ Whenever his eyes meet yours, he freezes for a second, giving you a tiny smile and the tiniest nod before quickly looking away. He has been having trouble focusing on anything but you; his eyes keep seeking you out whenever they have a talking segment, not listening to a single word his members are saying.

❀ Wonwoo, at some point, seriously considers removing his contact lenses, especially when Mingyu notices why his friend is getting so flustered and distracted, teasing him about it.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ Woozi has the best poker face, for the most part. Although you can tell by the small smile that graces his face throughout the performances that he has noticed you, he mostly seems unaffected by your presence.

❀ The other members, however, do not let him get off all that easily. Throughout the concert, they tease him, bringing up inside jokes between the two of you or teasingly commending him on his well-written romantic lyrics. His lyrics are so ingenious, wherever did he get the inspiration from?

❀ Due to all the teasing comments about him being a romantic guy and making romantic songs, he gets a bit shy when singing his ballads. Most of his love songs were written about you, and he can't help but avoid your gaze as he feels the burning, knowing stares of his fellow vocal unit members. Woozi feels a bit too embarrassed at saying his poetic love confessions out loud in such a public space.

❀ Still, his shyness does not keep him from wandering to the area where you are sitting, checking whether you are having a good time and ensuring that you know he appreciates you attending the concert by giving you a small smile and wave.

DK/Seokmin

❀ DK is so oblivious to you being there; it isn't that he hasn't seen you, but he hasn't noticed it is actually you. He even pointed you out to Minghao, remarking that he had found your body double. Of course, Minghao scolded him for not being able to recognize his own partner.

❀ When it finally dawns on him that you took the time to attend their concert, he starts to tear up. One of his speeches leaves you sobbing, too. DK is so incredibly sincere, tearfully thanking everyone who has come to support him and remarking that without their encouragements, he wouldn’t have been able to perform as well as he did. Although he is deliberately keeping his speech vague, you know he is talking about you.

❀ Nevertheless, DK is not the most subtle about his excitement about you being there. He will regularly enthusiastically wave in your direction. Ultimately, Coups has to step in as it is becoming rather suspicious that DK seems to continuously be playfully interacting with only a select group of Carats. From then on, DK has to follow a simple rule: one interaction with you equals two waves to Carats on the other side of the stadium.

❀ As he wants to commemorate the first time you attended his concert, he will save a piece of confetti for you as a memento.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu has been begging you for ages to attend one of his concerts. Unfortunately, your schedule never lined up with the concert dates; even worse, you couldn't cancel your already-made plans, much to your shared disappointment. Thus, when the stars aligned and you finally had the time to go, Mingyu was absolutely over the moon.

❀ Mingyu is noticeably more energetic and giggly throughout the concert. He keeps glancing in your direction, breaking out in a massive smile whenever your eyes meet. Whenever he is able to walk around the stage, he ends up in front of you, giving you a pout when he notices you watching another member. Poor Coups has a field day reminding Mingyu not to make his affection for you so apparent to the fans.

❀ He is on a whole different level during the sexy songs; his shirt accidentally keeps getting drenched, and an overenthusiastic DK keeps trying to lift it 'just because', knowing you would appreciate it.

❀ Mingyu has told every single member that you are there, at least twice. They have tried to hush him, but in his excitement, he keeps nudging them and pointing over at you. He is lucky the microphones haven’t picked up his yapping.

The8/Minghao

❀ He knew you were coming to the concert and had been trying to dissuade you from doing so. It simply didn't make sense to him why you wanted to attend. Why waste that much money on tickets when he could invite you to the dance practices or give you a mini concert at home for free?

❀ On the inside, he is incredibly happy that you chose to attend the concert. Minghao briefly mentions it in passing to Jun, unable to hide the soft smile that keeps appearing whenever he does as much as think about you being there.

❀ He is very giggly throughout the concert. To both Carats' and Seventeen's surprise, Minghao keeps laughing at Hoshi's unhinged jokes, even forgetting about his anti-horanghae agenda.

❀ Fans keep thinking he meditated that day because he somehow is very patient with his members' crazy and embarrassing behaviour. In reality, he is too distracted looking at you to actively notice half of the stuff his members are pulling during the talking segments of the concert.

❀ Minghao absolutely refuses to join in on their idiocy, however. He does not want to do anything embarrassing in front of you, even if it would make you laugh.

Seungkwan

❀ It is noticeable to everyone around him that he is so incredibly happy that you were able to attend his concert. Mind you, you have attended his concerts before, but every time you do, Seungkwan treats it like it is the first time you are watching him perform. He has brought it up to every single staff member, excitedly telling them this is going to be the best concert yet because you are there to support him.

❀ He is pulling more shenanigans than usual. His sole goal during the concert is to make you laugh until you cry, and thus, he has pulled out all the stops, imitating every celebrity under the sun. Their concert almost feels like a Going Seventeen episode with Seungkwan as the MC.

❀ During the concert, Seungkwan is flaunting his dance and singing skills. He is adding a riff here and there and putting even more emotion behind the words he is singing. If possible, he will convince the members to let him have his Sexy Seungkwan moment.

❀ At some point during the concert, he will 100% go up to you, just to make you do something crazy. I hope you practised your Aju Nice high note and warmed up for your dance solo.

Vernon

❀ Vernon keeps quiet about you being at the concert; he spotted you almost immediately but will not mention it to any of the members. Seungkwan is downright offended when Vernon mentions it after the concert has ended, scolding him that he should have told them you were there. Vernon wants you to enjoy the concert without all the stuff he knows the members would pull once they realize you are in attendance.

❀ During the concert, you feel like you are on The Office. Whenever one of the members does something stupid or embarrassing, Vernon will make direct eye contact with you, pulling a meme face to silently communicate his tortured feelings at having to witness it.  

❀ Vernon isn't one to go over to your area and give you a wave or a smile, wanting you to enjoy a normal concert-going experience. At most, he will briefly meet your eyes during a meaningful line.

❀ He is not paying any attention to his members during talking segments, zoning out to blatantly stare at you. When they scold him backstage, he 1000% uses you as his excuse.

Dino/Chan

❀ You hadn't told Dino that you would be attending their upcoming concert, mostly because you knew that if you did, his perfectionism would get the better of him. Dino would practice deep into the night, wanting to give you the best performance imaginable, and, thus, not telling him, was your way of preventing your boyfriend from overworking himself.

❀ Still, the moment he notices you in the crowd, he goes on a mission to prove himself. Gone is the cute maknae; he has cranked up his stage presence to 5000% and will not accept a single mistake.

❀ Throughout the concert, Dino keeps glancing in your direction to gauge your reaction whenever he has executed a difficult or sexy dance move.

❀ Although he loves making you laugh, Dino feels torn between making a fool out of himself or being the cool, sexy guy. Still, after some encouragement from his members, he will join them in their skits, bringing out his famous characters. Seeing your laughter at his ridiculousness boosts his confidence tenfold.

❀ Despite his members' pushiness, he is way too shy to actually go over to where you are sitting or wave at you. Instead, he jealously stares at you from afar as the other members interact with you.

Masterlist

[darcylindbergh]

I've talked a lot about why you should vote AGAINST Trump. No fucking shit, right? But I want to vote FOR something, too.

Kamala Harris hasn't had time yet to put together her platform documents, though no doubt we'll see those in the coming days. But this is a good analysis of where she and Joe Biden stand - and Kamala is more progressive on every front.

Abortion rights: Joe would've restored Roe, but Kamala would expand it to prevent states from limiting access. The pre-clearance measure discussed here is a non-starter but I'd expect Kamala to be looking at how to frame the issue for another try.

Israel and Gaza: it's true that Kamala hasn't broken with Joe publicly about Gaza. However, the article goes on:

Harris hasn’t exactly broken with Biden over the issue. But she has expressed more public sympathy than Biden has over the tens of thousands of Palestinians who have died during Israel’s counterattack. In March, she was one of the earliest high-profile leaders in the administration to call for an immediate temporary cease-fire in March. She also delivered the sharpest rebuke against Israel’s handling of aid flows into Gaza and described the conflict as a “humanitarian catastrophe” for innocent civilians. And privately, she has told Biden and other top officials that the administration needed to take a stronger stance against Netanyahu and focus on a long-term peace to the decades-long conflict, people familiar with her remarks have previously told POLITICO.

Kamala has also declined to preside over the upcoming session of Congress that Netanyahu is speaking at, on invitation by Republicans. She wasn't scheduled to before this, but I think declining now is a clear indicator that her foreign policy will not include the broad support we saw from Joe.

Climte Change: Honestly, the Build Back Better bill was so fucking substantial and incredible I think Kamala would be hard-pressed to do much more. I think Kamala needs to have a solid response ready to the recent Supreme Court decision overturning Chevron, which is the biggest threat to the EPA and other agencies in our lifetimes. (Trump, by the way, would abolish the EPA and the vast majority of environmental protections.)

Student debt relief: She was more progressive earlier, and I expect we'll see many of Joe's relief packages continue expanding.

Similarly:

Free college: Kamala's in full support. I understand Joe's position that students from wealthy families should pay their own way, but I also know from experience that students from wealthy family not immune to financial abuse by controlling parents.

Trade: this is actually a great one to know, because Kamala's hesitance on these trade agreements are related to a) environmental concerns, and b) outsourcing American jobs. Republicans love to lose their shit over outsourcing American jobs. Here's more significance in the trade sphere:

This is going to be a HUGE talking point for your conservative-leaning relatives. Business leaders do not want Trump in office, because the agenda laid out in Project 2025 will make it harder for them to do business - it will make it harder for them to attract global talent, costlier to import and export, and stunt economic growth. Do you know that "undecided" voter who votes red for "fiscal responsibility?" This your talking point. Kamala's platform spends, but in such a way that it will stimulate economic growth and solidify the US as a business leader worldwide.

Artificial Intelligence: I'll let Kamala speak for herself.

“History has shown, in the absence of regulation and strong government oversight, some technology companies choose to prioritize profit over the wellbeing of their customers, the safety of our communities, and the stability of our democracies,” Harris said during her visit to the U.K. for November’s AI Safety Summit.  Last July, during the early days of the White House’s mobilization on AI policy, Harris led a meeting among civil rights, labor and consumer protection groups where she rejected the “false choice” between promoting innovation and protecting the public.

The article also talks about data privacy, where Kamala and Joe are very similar, and animal welfare. Historically, Kamala defended animal welfare protections in CA, but remember that as Attorney General, Kamala's job was to defend the law no matter what her personal feelings were. Biden made some strides here, but many will agree not enough - I think this is a place where Kamala has to tread very carefully because progressives are in favor of more stringent animal welfare protections, but agricultural and rural voters are already a demographic inclined to view progressive agendas negatively, feeling forgotten, misunderstood, and passed over in favor of large cities. It's definitely a weakness for the Dems so I wouldn't expect to hear much about animal welfare as a voting issue.

IN SUM

I'm very happy to vote FOR Kamala, not just against Trump. I think she stands to take stronger action on abortion, stronger action on Israel and Gaza, stronger action on college and student debt relief. I think she'll continue work inherited on environmental protections and infrastructure. I think she will do more to protect LGBTQ+ individuals and unions, as well as standing strong on disability reform and criminal justice reform (yes, I know she was a prosecutor, and I also know that she worked on several important CJ reforms during her time as AG - here's an article about her progressive record as DA).

Remember, there's no such thing as a protest vote. The only people who benefit by third-party voting or choosing not to vote are the far-right.

[nejiverse]

NASTY WOUNDS PT. 2

Aventurine, Boothill, Wriothesley, Neuvillette

part 1

In which you tend to their injuries and pamper them. Fem! Reader

cw: none

1256 words

"Wipe that smirk off your face Aventurine", Y/n grumbled, patching the wound on his cheek. "It's like you're getting yourself hurt on purpose these days".

Aventurine chuckled, wincing slightly as merely laughing made his injury throb. With his hands at his sides, slightly behind him, he leaned his weight on them and shrugged his shoulders. "Trouble just seems to have a knack for finding me".

She rolled her eyes, her hands moving deftly to clean and bandage his latest injury. "Or you just have a knack for finding trouble". She shook her head in disapproval, a frown etched on her lips. "You're not making it easy for me y'know".

"Well, I do appreciate the attention," he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You have a gentle touch."

Purposefully, she smacked the bandage onto his cheek, earning a string of childish groans from Aventurine. "Flattery won't get you out of this lecture i'm afraid", Y/n feigned an expression of sympathy. "You have to be more careful Aven", she said in a softer and more serious tone.

He sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Alright, alright. I promise to be more careful. But, tell you what..", Aventurine pulled a coin out of his pocket and rolled it across his knuckles. "Guess right and you get a prize. Heads or tails?".

Y/n folded her arms and raised a brow quizzically. "What are you up to...".

"Pick a side and find out".

With caution, the woman picked heads.

Aventurine flipped the coin high into the air, both of them watching as it spun and glinted under the light before landing in his palm. He uncovered it with a flourish. "Heads it is," he declared, showing her the result.

A triumphant smile spread across Y/n's face. "Looks like I win."

He laughed, tucking the coin back into his pocket. "You certainly do. And as your reward..." Aventurine reached into his jacket and pulled out a single, delicate flower, offering it to her with a sincere smile. "For my favorite healer. A token of my appreciation."

Y/n couldn't help the smile reappearing on her lips. "Is this really a thank you gift or your way of getting me to shut up?", she giggled.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out", he gestured her to come closer and wrapped an arm around her waist, looking up at the woman with nothing short of admiration.

"See you tonight?".

"Boothill...I can obviously tell you're hiding your arm behind your back cause clearly there is no arm attached to your right shoulder", Y/n placed a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes at the man.

Boothill clicked his tongue, revealing his quite literally dislocated arm. "Darn, an' I thought I was being pretty discreet".

Y/n approached him, patting his good shoulder. "Not in this lifetime I fear". She took the arm from him and opted to get some tools out, Boothill following close behind her. "It's not like I mind fixing you up, it's just..what if D/n sees—", speak of the devil.

The two were met with the shocked face of their daughter as Y/n quickly hid the arm behind her back, a poor attempt to stop the waterworks from beginning.

"I really wasn't discreet huh", a lazy grin made it to Boothill's face.

D/n's bottom lip was jutted out and tears prickled her eyes causing Y/n to panic and search for a screwdriver.

"It's okay baby, look!", the woman hurriedly attached Boothill's arm back on, the screwdriver almost falling out of her grip a few times.

"Good as new, see?", patting his arm for good measure.

Boothill helped appease the situation by flashing his pointy teeth a flexing his fingers.

"Ya don't gotta worry about me princess, you've got the strongest papa in the universe", he scooped his little girl into his arms, d/n wiping her tears with the back of her hand and her endearing sniffles ceasing.

"Where's yer smile gone, huh?", he cooed as he playfully tickled the toddler who erupted into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly, Boothill's arm fell off again, ruining the entire mood. He let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't the hand he was using to hold his daughter.

Y/n ran a hand down her face. "Dammit".

"You don't have to do this y'know, I'm used to it", Wriothesley voiced to the woman who had a worried expression etched onto her face.

"I want to though, you make me worry", the ravenette watched her carefully tend to his wounds, her gentle hands moving with practiced precision as she wrapped bandages around his bicep.

"Hey, at least I won".

Y/n gave him an unimpressed look, not caring about whether he was victorious or not. Wriothesley pursed his lips.

"Winning won't matter if you're dead".

Wriothesley laughed under his breath. "You're so dramatic". Y/n put away the bandages while Wriothesley gave his limbs a much needed stretch after being forced to sit down for what felt like multiple hours. "A few cuts and a busted lip won't be enough to take me out".

He came up behind her, hands on her waist and placed a kiss on her lips, one that lasted much longer than he intended.

"They still work don't they?".

Y/n punched his shoulder. "Those weren't just a 'few cuts' Wrio!", she responded, completely ignoring his question.

"Mhm..", he mumbled as he went in for another kiss before he felt Y/n's hand blocking him from doing so.

"Sorry but I don't like kissing people with busted lips", she teased.

Wriothesley frowned coyly. "I guess i'll just have to heal quickly. But in the meantime..", he leaned in closer and moved her hand down to her side, interlocking their fingers. "Maybe you can give me a kiss somewhere else?".

"Why would I wanna do that?".

"Well they say it helps for a speedy recovery".

"Is that so?", she retorted, a hand on his left cheek and placing a kiss on his right.

"Yup. I feel better already".

"No more apologising alright Chief Justice?", Y/n spoke softly, eyes focused on the last of the stitches she was applying to Neuvillette’s hand.

"Understood, forgive me for burdening you".

Y/n squeezed his hand before relaxing her grip again. "Hey what did I just say?", she scolded lightly. "Besides, you're not burdening me, if you're always looking out for others like this then who looks after you?", as she posed the question, a look of worry was evident on her face.

A faint drizzle began outside, the light pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows a clear sign of his emotions.

Without another word, Y/n wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Neuvillette stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. His formal posture relaxed gradually as he allowed himself to sink into the warmth of her embrace.

When last was he enveloped by such warmth? He wasn’t sure. But what he was sure of was that if it were possible, he would remain just like this, in her arms, for eternity.

“I’d like to be that person, if you’d let me”, she uttered sincerely.

Neuvillette’s heart swelled with feelings that were foreign to him. Maybe he wasn’t as familiar with human emotions as he thought he was. Still, whatever it was, it felt comforting and reassuring.

“I would be honoured, more than you can imagine”.

Masterlist

[brewed-pangolin]

There is just something so endearing about Soap MacTavish in the morning.

The soft golden light of the sun playing along the tips of his disheveled mohawk. Its bright honey color accentuated the stubble along his chin, dabbling it in crystalline sunlight flecks that glisten with every movement of a dreamlike breath.

Yet, somehow, despite the glowing aura that currently surrounded him, it was his eyes that always seemed to pull you in the most in the early hours of the day. Still hidden from view underneath heavy lids and caged behind thick lashes that never ceased to tear a jealous groan from the depths of your chest.

Slowly, as to not outright disturb him from his much needed slumber, you inched yourself closer until your chest pressed against the flesh of his arm. Dipping beneath to place yourself between his muscular reach and the density of his torso. Laying your head just below the cusp of his underarm as your hand delicately laid out atop the flesh of his chest.

A subtle twitch to the corner of his mouth is the first indication that your gentle measures are quickly culminating to the desired effect.

You feel the muscles tighten beneath his taut skin as he expands the bulk of his chest to inhale a heavy breath. Dense fibrous tissue rippling underneath his flesh to the flexion of his limbs, stretching his stiff form from the tight grip of sleep to pull you closer against him as a breathy growl rolls over a lengthy exhale.

"Mornin', bonnie," he mutters. Voice groggy and thick with Scottish brogue while his eyes still hide behind the curtains of his lids.

"Good morning, mo cridhe."

And likes Moses with the Red Sea, that simple term of Gaelic endearment uttered so sweetly from your lips finally parted the veil to his soul as he cast down his celestial gaze upon you.

"Hmm. Yer learnin', hen."

"I do what I can, Johnny," you breathed lowly. Catching a lump in your throat as your thoughts bottle between the walls of your windpipe.

"Besides, I love waking up to those beautiful blue eyes of yours."

"Jus' me eyes, lass?"

The sun's light trickled at the edges of his cerulean maelstroms, igniting a golden blaze that licked towards the flexing obsidian and tugged you further into the gravity that was him.

Words dissolved on the tip of your tongue as you lost yourself within the immensity of his stare. No other could make you forget the simplicity of language and the necessity to breathe like John MacTavish. Only with the gentle feel of his thumb against your shoulder did you ultimately fall back to Earth. Landing in his bed of unending affection to nestle yourself forever into the deep crevices of his heart.

"Not just your eyes, Johnny."

Your admission falls on a gradual exhale, fingers traversing along the middle of his torso between the deep grooves of his abdomen. Guided by a trail of perfectly dusted hair beneath his navel, only to halt your descent and place the palm of your hand along the curve of his Adonis belt.

"Then wha' is it, bonnie? Wha' is it about me eyes tha' makes ya go all dopey?"

You contemplated your answer for a moment. Running your fingers along the length of his pelvis to feel the tightening tension beneath his skin.

"They're like a second dusk before the blinding brightness of the sun washes them away. A last glimmer of twilight peaking through the ether, only to succumb to the glare of breaking dawn."

"Steamin' Jesus, lass. Ya jus' come up with tha' one? Or have ya been holdin' on tae tha' fer a while?"

"Little bit of both."

Your confession rolled over your trembling bottom lip like fog on a pebbled shore. Embedded with a hint of humor that never went unnoticed as Soap responded in kind by gently shifting you onto your back.

Bringing your hands to rest along the dense curvature of his neck, hovering above and caging you against the mattress as he lowered himself between the spreading valley of your open legs.

"Ya keep talkin' like tha', bonnie, an' yer gonnae find these eyes between a pair of very familiar thighs."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Wonnae be tha' last either."

Soap's eyes lit up like glistening orbs caught in a raging firelight. His smile etched across the entirety of his mouth, only further accenting his paradisical demeanor as he graced your lips with a kiss that breathed new life into the dawning of your groggy soul.

Immediately granting him entry into the warm chasm of your mouth. His exquisite tongue carrying the remnants of last night's whisky with the subbtle smokiness of tobacco etched along its fragrant border.

The mind-altering concoction seeping into your bloodstream like a substance not meant for the frailty of this world. Tearing away the cemented walls of reality as you fell like a heavy stone into the sunken fabric of the mattress beneath.

"Wha- what about me, Johnny?" You crooked when his lips tore away from your mouth, moving across your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

"You? Wha' ya mean?" He questioned between gentle, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Voice subdued and muffled as his tongue lapped at the divine saltiness of your skin.

"What am I to you, Johnny? Right now."

Soap reluctantly pulled his mouth away to stare into your fluttering depths once more. Minding the growing fluster behind your eyes, taking note of your change in breath and the deep flush emanating from the valley of your chest.

"You, mo ghrádh," he started. Accent thicker than molasses and collapsing like time hardened lumber.

"Yer like the first sip of scotch on a cold winter's mornin'. Hot, heavy, and so damn addicting."

The air in your lungs froze, leaching their life giving oxygen into your pleading bronchioles. Halted by his unapologetic sincerity as your blood purged from your chest to pool within the deep chasm of your core.

"Jesus Christ, Johnny. You just bought yourself a one way ticket to Poundtown for that one."

"Aye? Complimentary in flight meal?"

"Of course. Only the best for you."

"There's a good lass."

He pressed his lips to yours for one final union. Only to begin his methodical descent, traversing over the curve of your neck and into the deep vale between your breasts. His calloused yet tender hands following in their wake, gliding over the perking flesh of your nipples while his mouth ghosted over the undulating skin of your stomach. The sporadic movement of your diaphragm creating a constant wave to your torso, tugging a smile to the corners of his mouth as he breathed a muffled chortle against the suppleness of your skin.

"Didnae expect so much turbulence, bonnie."

"Shut up, Johnny."

The bed shifted beneath your trembling frame as he repositioned himself between your thighs. Only now, with heat of his body pulled away did you feel the wetness embedded within your folds. The cool air causing a shiver to run up your spine as he cradled your knees over the sculpted broadness of his shoulders.

"Fuckin' hell, lass. Yer soakin' fer me already," he muttered against the sensitiveness of your inner thigh.

Prolonging the inevitable. Torturous intent with an impish furrow to his brow as he patiently waited for that simple utterance to give him the verbal go ahead.

"Johnny, please.."

"Aye. There it is."

Tagging the Soap Sqaud, as this will be my last post for the season.

@deadbranch @ohgeesoap @writeforfandoms @efingart @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @shotmrmiller @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @astraluminaaa @ghosts-goldendoodle @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @crashtestbunny @greatstormcat @crashandlivewrites @glossysoap @soapsgf @devcica @gazs-blue-hat @tacticalanxiety @chamomiletealeaf @thetrashpossum @simpingoverquestionablemen @queen-ilmaree @weebumochi @dustycrusty09 @sadstone-s @foxface013 @lily-ilo @slutweeds

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x Reader: What they would do for your birthday

included: sukuna, uraume, kenjaku & mahito

tags/themes: drabbles, fluff, slightly suggestive, slight body horror for mahito, 500-1000 words per character

ao3 link • masterlist • mdni

a/n: levelling up this month so why not a lil drabble post 💥 i’ll write one up for the other chars next time

Sukuna

You had been officially with Sukuna for about a year now and have lived together with him for about half of that duration.

Therefore, it was only a matter of time before you ended up spending your birthday with him.

Or so you thought.

Waking up, you were surprised to find the bed completely empty and utterly devoid of his presence. Instead, Uraume stood in the doorway with a neutral look on their face, entirely unphased by you being partially undressed with the covers only concealing half of your otherwise bare body.

It took you a while to adjust to their unwavering stare before you noticed that they were holding onto something.

At first, you couldn’t help but consider the possibility that perhaps Sukuna had arranged for a gift to be dispensed at their hands rather than to deliver it himself. However, the longer you both stared each other down, the less likely that seemed to be the case.

Stepping forward, Uraume snapped open a roll of measuring tape in their hands, the object making a tight whipping sound, “Your measurements, please.”

Blinking, you tried to process their request.

“It would be wise if you could cooperate with me,” they added, piling onto your strained silence.

“Hold on a sec,” you murmured, “let me just get dressed—“

“—I really don’t mind,” they replied stiffly, “nor do I care.”

“I care, a-alright?” you partially stammered, feeling your face warm up under their eyes. Curse Sukuna for requesting that you sleep unclothed. “Just step out for a moment. …Please?”

With a weary eye roll, Uraume complied with your request.

Quickly slipping into a tank top and a pair of underwear, you awkwardly cleared your throat a couple of times to signal that you were ready.

As they walked back inside, they swiftly manoeuvred around you, looping the measuring tape around your arms and waist with calculated precision as you stood there with slowly building discomfort.

“S-so… what’s this for?” you asked.

“For lord Sukuna,” they quietly replied while taking a step back, their eyes closing for a moment as though to make a mental note, “a request of his so that I can make some… adjustments.”

You nervously laughed in response in an attempt to lighten the mood, “You make it sound so ominous.”

Uraume however did not reciprocate, leaving you alone in the bedroom where you were left to gather what remained of your throughts for a good couple of hours. In that time, you chose to take it as easy as possible in fearful anticipation for what Sukuna might have had in store for you.

When the time finally arrived for him to make his grand appearance, you were sitting in bed half awake against the headboard, sleepily browsing your phone.

Sukuna’s footsteps were methodical as he approached you, holding onto what appeared to be neatly folded fabric. His pointed fingernails lightly threaded around the cloth, seeming careful not to tear through the material.

Warily, you sat up and steeled yourself, unsure as to what to expect all the while he extended his arms, offering you what you were certain to be a gift.

Before you could say anything however, he promptly cut you off with a disapproving tone, “You will refrain from getting sentimental at my offering. I’m doing this out of pure etiquette.”

You blinked at him with a confused arched brow as your mouth slightly hung ajar. Thinking nothing of it, you carefully unfolded the cloth, unfurling the creases and gently spreading out a robe similar to the one he often wore.

Unable to resist a smile, you couldn’t help but ask in a teasing tone, “Did you just give me a matching kimono? Are we really matching? That’s so adora—“

“—cease, the rags you otherwise wear are simply… unacceptable, that’s all,” he huffed in a curt response, seeming displeased with your remark. “This is more so to please me than it is for you to enjoy.”

Your smile continued to grow as his words went right over your head. No matter how much he would continue to deny it, he got you something personal—something purposefully commissioned for you to wear that matched what he had.

Attempting to further taunt him for being soft, you opened up your mouth to tempt the idea. However he quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked it towards him as a playful threat, his voice low and full of warning, “Don’t push your luck, brat. You’ll try this on and let me see how it sits on you.”

Stifling your mockery for now, you quietly obeyed his word without further question to which he released you to do so. You punched one arm at a time through the kimono while he helped you ease into it; his eyes fixated intently on how you wore it, silently judging how you adapted to wearing the cloth.

“Perfect,” he whispered under his breath, although the annoyance he felt prior was steadily returning the longer you stared at him with that irritating smile, “again, don’t mistake this gift as an act of kindness. I’m simply ensuring that you dress the way I’d prefer.”

“Sure,” you replied with a sarcastic undertone.

You couldn’t lie though, the material was perfectly soft against your skin. It felt like wearing weightless silk that both cooled yet somehow warmed your body.

And despite the coldness that he continued to deliver you with his pointed stare, there was a flicker of something else in the depth of his eyes. Perhaps it was care, no matter how much he denied being unable to feel such an emotion.

Or perhaps it was longing… or a subtler form of affection that you didn’t quite understand.

Whatever it was, the gift was a token of his claim towards you—for you to wear something he did too, to present to the world that you were in fact truly his.

Which in his eyes was the most meaningful gift that he could ever give.

Uraume

Your interactions with Uraume were always a hit or a miss, at least initially. Slowly, you grew to appreciate their company over the last couple of years and during more recent times, the pair of you had blossomed into a relationship.

Taking such a big step forward was a challenge for you both, but you did come to value the way they showed affection—no matter how subtle it always was.

Together, you lived on a property not too far from Sukuna’s residence. They were always available at a moment’s notice for his every whim and need, so often times you were left to spend the evenings alone and when your birthday finally rolled around, you didn’t expect anything less.

However, much to your surprise, Uraume seemingly got off much earlier than you had anticipated, arriving home just before it was too dark. Just before you were too tired to stay up for their company.

“You’re home early,” you said, greeting them with an acknowledging nod as they lingered in the doorway—both hands clasped onto a box that they held onto for dear life.

As they nodded back, you became curious about the contents and gently placed your phone onto the sofa to inspect what they were carrying. Carefully, you trailed off to where they stood, looking down ever so slightly while they figured out how to address you.

“…Today is a significant day for you,” they spoke up at last, their hands slowly extending as they attempted to part with the box.

You grabbed onto it, securing it at parallel ends.

“Correct,” you slowly nodded.

A moment of silence had passed before Uraume continued on with what they wanted to say, “As such, I have brought you something as a gift. Please open it carefully.”

Nodding once more, you heeded their request and placed the box onto the breakfast table, sitting on a chair and began to open up the box. Slowly, you unloaded a fine china tea set with a delicate touch.

“Is it acceptable?” Uraume asked.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you whispered, carefully inspecting each and every single fine detail, seemingly hand painted onto the dishes.

“I used to have a similar set, way back then,” they added, “although I couldn’t find the exact original.”

“You have incredible taste either way,” you complimented.

Uraume’s lips curled slightly, looking away for a second as you praised them,

“Is it… acceptable?” they asked you again, wondering if it was a gesture that you enjoyed or not. Uraume didn’t like it when things were sugarcoated, preferring a blunt or clear response instead.

“Yes,” you replied, “I love it.”

For Uraume to not only consider your interest but to also add a personal flair and also locate something potentially rare and nostalgic to them was an incredible gesture to you.

Seeming pleased, Uraume continued, “I could prepare you some tea then, if you’d like. You should be sleeping soon, so a cup might be nice.”

“I’d love that,” you replied.

“Then please sit tight,” they smiled, “allow me to treat you as you deserve.”

Kenjaku

Going to sleep at Kenjaku’s side and waking up alive the next day was a miraculous accomplishment each and every single time. It was such a relieving feeling, that you almost found yourself feeling thankful that on your birthday, you woke up feeling perfectly fine without a hint of unwelcome surprise.

No suspicious incisions, no missing organs—you were fine, all fine. Just fine…!

Yet as you left the bed and saw a note sitting at the doorstep to the entrance of the bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

You warily picked it up, scanning over the surface of the paper:

‘Happy birthday. Your gift awaits.’

As you then unfolded the note completely, you found that there was more written on the inside; an unnamed address without any context.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for whatever it was. You didn’t want to go anywhere unnecessary today, yet here he was, directing you somewhere potentially strange.

Chucking on your usual outfit—something lazy for running errands, you inputted the address into your GPS app and began to march towards the mysterious direction.

You supposed that you were lucky to be dating this man during the modern times, where you at least had modern technology to accurately guide you to wherever it was he directed you. Had this been just decades earlier with a paper map, you might have genuinely lost the single shred of sanity that you had left.

And upon reaching the address in question, you stepped inside what appeared to be an old antique shop. Inside stood an old man who trembled as he asked for your name, seeming equal parts nervous and relieved as he handed you a note with a key folded inside.

Sighing, you thanked the man and parted the key from the paper, reading more of his forsaken words:

‘Unlock compartment #51 and retrieve the contents.’

Doing just that, you asked the man if he knew what the note was talking about and with a strained nod, he led you to a small room filled to the brim with small drawers dotted with little key slots. You supposed that this antique shop somehow doubled as an old post office perhaps, given the worn state of the lockers.

You braced yourself for whatever you were about to find in the allocated compartment, frowning as you retrieved a small box wrapped in paper. Inside, was an even smaller box, although completely metal with a cap on it and to your lacking surprise, another note.

“Oh for the love of—“ you muttered as your eyes focused on the new piece of paper:

‘Return home and loudly close the door. Break the seal of the case and place it onto the counter.’

With an almost exasperated groan, you stormed back to your shared home and did exactly as he instructed—feeling genuinely unsure as to why you were torturing yourself on what appeared to be a scavenger hunt for what gave him the audacity to do such a thing.

You stared at the activated case with a narrowed gaze, half expecting the damned thing to blow up. It was surely not too promising as smoke seeped through the narrow ventilation slots and as a loud beeping noise played, but then you smelled something pleasant.

Kenjaku then materialised seemingly out of nowhere, jolting you with unanticipated surprise as he swooped in to disassemble the case, unveiling a small cake of some kind that he then took a bite out of, without offering you a single crumb.

“…Excuse me?” you asked, staring at him in disbelief.

“I haven’t had one of these for centuries,” he replied, his mouth slightly muffled as he chewed.

You continued to stare at him, “And why did you make me go through all of that?”

Initially he curiously hummed but then smiled upon finishing up the confection, “So that I could give you a gift that you wouldn’t forget. A pleasant memory.”

“I didn’t find it very pleasant…” you sulked.

Kenjaku simply continued to smile as he patted your head, messing up your hair in the process, “But it was definitely unforgettable, right?”

“I… I guess so?” you reluctantly supposed.

“Then, consider that to be my gift to you,” he replied, “a day of intrigue, but also enrichment.”

“T-thank you?” you replied in a state of quickly growing confusion; completely unsure of what was even happening.

Seeming satisfied, Kenjaku retreated from you as he slinked back into what was his study, “You’re welcome,” he sang before disappearing into the room.

All the while you could do nothing but simply stand there, confused yet also… somehow fulfilled?

Mahito

You weren’t sure how, but you managed to find yourself entangled in Mahito’s personal web. You weren’t sure as to why this strange cursed spirit seemed to spare you, but you were starting to wish that he hadn’t, given how often he popped into your own home.

You tried just about everything to keep him out, but he was just too damn determined. It was on a nightly basis that he made it into a routine; somehow breaching your barricaded doors and boarded up windows to routinely appear in your bedroom.

You could always tell when he was there, too.

Initially he gave you the creeps as he lingered in the shadows of your dark bedroom, but slowly he became something to simply just expect.

And with the all too familiar tapping of his knuckles against the wall, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed as he paid you yet another visit against your will.

Flashing on the lights, you bathed the once dark room in a blinding glow and there he was; stood idly up against your wall, waiting for you to notice him.

“Miss me?” he asked, leaning ever so slightly forward which caused his silver locks to sway.

You groaned into your pillow, turning away from him, mumbling something just coherent enough for him to parse, “I’m about to go to sleep. Go away.”

“Sleep? How boring~” he mocked in a jovial tone. “Especially on such a special day.”

You reluctantly acknowledged that it was indeed your birthday, choosing to push down the curiosity you had in mind with how on earth he managed to obtain such knowledge to begin with.

“Correct,” you begrudgingly replied, “so can my present be for you to leave me alone?”

Mahito simply laughed in response, a shrill and mocking sound escaping his lips. It always bothered you how expressive his features were yet how vacant his eyes seemed to be.

“Silly!” he exclaimed. “That would be rude of me, now wouldn’t it?”

“…The opposite, actually,” you mumbled.

Mahito pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to sit by your side while you were still in bed. He made a point of pulling off your blanket away from you and throwing the pillows off to the side—forcing you to whether you wanted to or not, to acknowledge his existence.

However, before you could react any further, his bare fingers brushed against your forehead with a strange, almost alien sensation that followed.

It felt like a headache of some sort but you couldn’t quite figure it out just yet.

Something was simply just… off.

Warily, both of your hands felt around your scalp, feeling something pointed and sharp spearing out of your head. In an attempt to get it off of you, you seemed to make the pain worse.

Such a realisation that he might have altered your body filled you with a deep sense of dread and that wasn’t a feeling you were particularly ready to accept.

“W-what did you just do…?” you asked with a trembling voice.

Mahito clapped his hands together in delight, seeming thoroughly amused at the sight before him. His eyes gleamed with pure excitement as he traced the air with a pointed finger, drawing an outline of your figure.

“Just a little something to get you into the party spirit,” he hinted with a sense of excitement that was just barely contained, “why not look into the mirror and see for yourself?”

Albeit reluctantly, you got out of bed and padded your way to the standing floor mirror that you had in the corner of your room. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but upon seeing a literal organic mass spearing from the top of your head, it certainly wasn’t that.

The longer you stared at it, the more uneasy you felt.

The very sight of it alone made you feel nauseated.

“G-get it o-off…!” you barely choked out, the volume of your voice croaking out as nothing more than a whisper.

Mahito’s grin then grew wider, “Not yet, birthday girl. How about some gratitude for your very own built in party hat?”

Surrendering to his terms under the implication that he would undo such a ridiculous alteration to your body, you managed to sputter out that could have resembled coherent words.

“Th-tha-thank y-you, Ma-mahito.”

Yet, the patch faced spirit didn’t seem satisfied with your attempt at all, tilting his head off to the side as though to indicate disappointment.

“Let’s try again,” he requested with a feigned sulk, “with a little bit more enthusiasm, perhaps?”

“Th-thank you!” you blurted out, although still sounding more horrified than grateful.

“That’s better,” Mahito cheered on, his personality rebounding in a split second, “but still not quite good enough,” he added on, “one last time with the right amount of passion? Unless you’d rather I keep it permanently like that?”

“Thank you for this incredible gift, Mahito!” you exclaimed, practically shouting as your both your voice as well as your dignity left your body.

Seeming genuinely pleased, Mahito ran his fingers by your head once again before returning you back to your original form. Not only were you right as rain, but he also gave you a good minute to compose yourself, waiting for you to scold him.

“What was that…?” you huffed.

“A magic trick for your birthday party,” he beamed, charading the flick of a wand, “a gift to get you into the birthday mood!”

“Oh, I’m in a mood alright,” you sighed.

“Not to worry,” he announced after yet another moment of painful silence, his sudden movement jolting you, “I’m going to leave you alone for now. So goodnight, better be thankful or else I’ll bite tonight~!”

Your eye twitched as he continued to taunt you with the almost burdening reminder that regardless of his promised absence, that he would come crawling back into your life the very next day.

Perhaps however, you should be thankful that he only seemed to want to rile you up rather than to torture you.

So maybe that much was a gift in itself than anything else.

>>> more birthday jjk drabbles

[carbonfiction]

cross to bare

Summary: A continuation of line to cross. This time its you who catches Logan in a compromising position; Behind the safely locked door of your bathroom- or so he thinks. After your last encounter you feel its only fair to return the favor.. right?

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, male masturbation/caught masturbating, blow jobs/deep throating?, mentions of bodily fluids (spit and pre/cum) dirty talk, teasing?, pretty much just giving DBF!Oldman!Logan nice sloppy head.. (also known as the dreammm)

Masterlist part 1 Words: 2K (i may have gotten fractionally carried away with how bad i wanna give that old man head.. oops?)

"Well would ya look at this.." you giggle playfully as you stand against the bathroom door; little metal hairpin in hand as you wiggle it mockingly towards him.

You watch as logan huffs but he doesn't scramble, doesn't panic the way you had. His movements do slow however until they cease to a stop with a squeeze to his flushed tip; a hand still wrapped around his leaking cock while the other rests on the wall ahead of him.

"Think your real funny huh?" he pants breathlessly. Groaning quiet from the depth of his chest as his thick fingers hastily tuck himself back into his briefs; the bulge sitting heavy and still uncomfortably hard under his open slacks, shamelessly attracting your eyes.

You nod in response, a mischievous grin spreading over your lips and Logan watches as you pad through the doorway. The hairpin slipping back into your hair as you turn to relock the door.

His uneven breaths fill the echoing bathroom, pulse pounding in his ears as you saunter further in. He watches intently as you situate yourself on the counter in front of the mirror; and Its at this point he realizes what your playing at by breaking in, by catching him out like this.

He doesn't need to find your eyes to see the hunger that radiates from you. Doesn't need to hear your pulse, smell your arousal burning up at the sight of him. Logan thinks he knows exactly what your game is and it draws an assured smirk to his lips.

"Somethin i can help you with here babydoll?" he questions, gesturing between you both with a low rumble in his throat, gazing up your body.

"No-pe" you draw the word out, applying extra pronunciation to the 'p' as you exaggeratedly shake your head for what he thinks is good measure.

Logan chuckles, deeply amused by whatever plan you think your executing. it still has his cock throbbing in its confines at your gaze; but he's quick and ready to throw you off track.

"tell me" he mutters, "you still fuckin those fake cocks up in your room when you think no ones home sweetheart?”

The broadness of his question pinks your cheeks, the memory of how he'd fucked you to tears with your dildo filling your head for the umpteenth time. Logan can see the moment it flashes through your mind, how your lip dents between your teeth, legs closing tight just like the moment he'd found you.

He said it as a jab, a tasteless mock, but In truth its not like that day stopped being on either of your minds since.

Yet shaking off the delicious memory with as much confidence as you can muster you square your shoulders again. “Mhm, got a new one.. vibrates." you release your lip, a sparkle in your eyes as you look him head to toe. he just nods, eyes dark as he digests your answer, before your gaze connects with the bulge of him once more. "Anyway, looks like your still fuckin your fist too old man”

Logan throws his head back, a deep chuckle echoing around you both and he watches the way you think you've won. When he steps closer, he can practically see the confidence that rests heavy above your shoulders. Although, as always, he's ready to test its integrity, poke and prod until it has you snapping back.

He's closer now, rough hands finding your covered thighs, pushing them open to stand between them as he tuts disapproving. “Less’a that babydoll"

Logans broad torso bends forward, salt and pepper scraping at your neck. he feels your fingers clutch at his shoulders, tips pressing tight into the fabric of his shirt.

His head dips closer, lips resting just under your left ear. You gasp, breath stuttering in your chest at the feeling of his smirk pressing against your skin and you feel his next words before you hear them. "think I recall you begging this Oldman to get you off not so long ago”

There's absolutely no use trying to muffle the little needy sound that builds in your chest.

Logan smirks against your neck, inhaling your perfume as he presses a single scratchy kiss to your skin before pulling back to face you once more.

When he finds your eyes your already looking at him, a fire burning so brightly that it takes him by a flicker of surprise. He steps away, just a fraction, evaluating his next move but you immediately follow. Scooting yourself forward until your socked feet hit the tiled floor.

You walk him back so he's standing against the wall. Neither of you move for a moment, just looking each other over a minute more, until its you that shifts.

You drop to your knees in front of him, heart drumming steady in your ears as your left hand traces up his black slacks.

"Should let me help" you murmur, looking up at him as you find his open zipper with ease. Tugging the fabric down until they pool around his ankles; open belt clinking as it connects with tile. "S’only fair right..”

Logan inhales sharply, cock twitching at the feeling of your nails dragging across the haired expanse of his thigh, your lips pressing feather light on the scared skin.

"So.." He feels you breathe against his covered length, feels you mumble your next words against him over the damp fabric; Inhaling the heady scent of him that's already leaking though the fabric. "Gonna let me suck your cock Logan?"

The guttural groan that falls from him, a sound so rough and ragged, drenches your panties as his rough hand finds home in your hair. Powerless to resist the look in your eyes; the smell of you in the air.

“yeah babydoll" he breathes, adams apple bobbing. "like you said, s’only fair”

And with that confirmed you drag his briefs down his legs. His thick cock bobs hard and flushed in front of you; leaking tip slapping against his belly button as it springs free. The motion has shiny droplets of precum slathering against his skin.

You waste no time in tasting him however, plush lips coming up to the toned expanse of his lower stomach. The hair that sprouts across his skin tickles your face as you plant mouthy pecks- almost all tongue- lapping at the pre covered skin of logan's abdomen to the heavy base of his cock.

A growl boils in logans throat at the feeling, his grip tightening the pull on your scalp as you drop back on your heels to lick at his flushed tip.

You smile as your eyes meet his, wet tongue lolling out to cushion the underside of his length as you bob back and forth. The tugged grip on your hair grounding. Your cheeks hollowing; the suction of your mouth making logans cock leak needily.

The slow, spit stricken rocks of your mouth feel good, but its not enough. Logan knows it and hell do you know it- you didn't break your way in just to lazily lick at his cock like this. So you pull off with a wet pop, still licking at his slit.

"What was it you said to me? 'wanna fuck a plastic cock you've gotta at least do it properly?'." you recall, teasing a grin up at him between your lashes as you move to lap your tongue wetly against his balls until they sit sloppy against you.

You rest your hands against his thighs and the goading look you give him has him grunting; aching hips bucking forward of their own accord. "c'mon Logan, take your own advice and do it properly. Fuck my mouth like you mean it. I can take it and you know it”

Logan looks down at you then, his large free hand cupping your hollowed cheek almost lovingly as you suck him back in; enveloping him tip to base in warmth.

You even suppress a gag of surprise as his hips buck, pushing the thick head of himself past the back of your mouth, down your throat.

“God, the mouth on you babydoll" he groans, hips picking up a steady pace as he starts fucking his cock down your throat. "s’fuckin filthy, your daddy would be ashamed.”

Spit coats your chin, eyes streaming, as lewd 'Gluck Gluck Gluck's' echo around the bathroom. Logans full balls plapping heavy against you with each cant of his hips.

But Jesus fuckkk do you look a picture each time logan makes eye contact with you. Deep down he knows he shouldn't of made you cum that time up in your room and he certainly shouldn't have his cock down your throat right now; it was- is- wrong considering his relationship with your father. Yet he cant find himself to care when you look at him the way you do; the sweet smell of arousal in the air tangling with your perfume. It pushes the growing throb of his orgasm closer, feeling his balls tighten with each thrust.

"Your one to talk" you choke, the words still muffled around the head of his cock as you pull back to breathe for a moment; nails digging harder into the haired flesh of his thighs. "Feels good?”

You don't even give him a moment to respond, sheathing him back into the wet warmth of your throat. so deep he can see the bulge of himself half way down your neck. Logan groans, practically yelping out a swear at the sight. “Y- yeah, shit princess, 'm c-close"

You let him fuck himself headfirst into his impending orgasm, taking every harsh buck and thrust without a whimper of complaint. His weeping cock hammering at the back of your throat, tongue dragging along the underside vein so deliciously Logan's thighs begin to gently tremble below your fingers.

"Fuck fuck fuckkkk..just like that" he jolts, eyes rolling back into his head as he bends at the waist until your head is trapped by his lower abdomen. His head lowers, planting soft kisses to your hairline as he grunts "good girl, G-gonna make me cum babydoll"

and Its then, within another one, two, three uncontrolled thrusts that he growls, primal and deep, grumbling out in pleasure. His balls rising and dropping in pleasure as they press to your chin.

Your throat greedily swallows around him as you're forced to take him to full depth. Musky cum fills your senses, heady and thick as the white ropes paint your throat like honey on a spoon.

"Christ, you tryna kill an old man huh?” he pants heavily, pulling his softing length back from the depths with a sloppy pop. you lick over the sensitive head, cleaning him up until he's hissing.

Silently then, you help him re dress; once he's all completely oversensitive and spent. Its almost intimate, romantic- you tucking him back in and buttoning up his slacks like you hadn't just taken and swallowed his soul down your throat.

When he's presentable again you giggle at him again, girlish and like the devil you are as you shift to stand. A hoarse whimper falls from your lips involuntarily as the drenched gusset of your panties slip across your lower lips. Aroused from the roughness of his touch. You know logan can smell it, the drenching slick leaking from your empty hole, but still you rekindle your restraint, a hand rubbing over your spit stricken mouth and chin as you turn towards the door.

“hopefully not this time.. got other things I wanna do to that cock first..” you call back, hand on the doorknob as you cast your gaze back to him and then the crotch of his freshly fixed slacks.

"S'that right?" he smirks, breath coming in short bursts as his lungs crackle and heave to catch up- his legs still shaking with a soft tremor as he leans his weight against the counter. You'd made him cum like a girl- like you- and the thought turns him on more than he'd like to admit.

"Mhm" you hum in confirmation, shooting a final bright grin his way as you leave- lashes still a little damp from the tears. "Cya around.. Oldman"

annnnnd thats it!! hopefully it lives up to all the wonderful love part 1 got bc i realllly enjoyed creating this one! (im probably even open to a part 3 closer for these if thats what the poeple want!) lemme know whatcha think <333

[ddarker-dreams]

Can you please rate the current husband rotation (scara,blade and chrollo) based on highest sex drive to lowest?

Btw i love your work your amazingggg <333333

thank you very much!!!!!!!! i'll throw gojo in there for good measure. whether anyone wants him, that's up for debate, but he's slapped into the mix now.

warning for not SFW beneath the cut, obviously, and afab reader. dubcon if you squint.

alright, so, this'll be ranked from 10 as the highest and 1 as the lowest.

scaramouche — 9.

it's bad. it's real bad. you weren't expecting it either. from what little scaramouche has allowed you to know about himself, you considered him the type to look down at sex as debased and pointless. this assessment of yours would've been accurate had you not been in the picture. sadly, you are very much in the picture, and it's a picture he'd stare at until his eyes ceased functioning.

he is clingy, he is needy, he is relentless. it's embarrassing and he'll never admit it, but he views sex as the ultimate connection lovers can experience. two becoming one. he places far more sentimentality on it than you'll ever be privy to. or so he'd like to think, because the tears he sheds into your neck as he enters you for the first time give him away. he'll hold you in an uncomfortably tight grip, almost in a trance. he's inside you, the closest anyone can physically get. sure, there's pleasure to be found, but that isn't the main allure. he can move forward and you'll gasp. pull back and feel how you squeeze him, as if you couldn't bear to let him go, not even for a second.

deep down, does he know this is an involuntary muscle spasm and not some long-awaited reciprocation of his awful love? yes, he knows. he ignores that rational explanation, as he so often does when you're involved. from the second his tip began pushing in, he knew he'd become addicted. for you to encourage him, declare your undying love between moans and gasps, reassure him that he's all you can ever think about.

he'd deliver the seven nations to your feet if it meant experiencing that.

if anyone were to interrupt his time with you, even if it's a report that the sky itself is cracking open, he'd kill them for the infraction.

basically, every second that passes without him being inside you further sours his mood. his underlings dread long missions away for this very reason. one of them made the mistake of consoling his lord that it's just a few more days until he can see you again. scaramouche ordered that his tongue be cut out for daring to speak your name. he's the only one who deserves the privilege. anyone else is entirely unworthy of the right.

when he comes back, you won't be leaving the bedroom for hours. he cannot detach himself from you. he's insatiable, utterly insatiable.

gojo — 8.

satoru thinks you're hot. like really hot. call-to-wake-you-up-at-four-in-the-morning-for-phone-sex hot. he cannot behave and he doesn't want to. if he's driving you somewhere, his hand is on your thigh. when you're taking an important phone call, his fingers will rub circles into your clit through your panties, no matter how desperately you try and shoo him off. the type to send you those memes that if he died in between your thighs, it'd be a happy death. he loves your body, how his name sounds when you sigh it, the scent of sweat on your skin, the taste of your favorite cocktail on your lips.

for as long as he can remember, he's never been the type to resist doing what he wants. he'll be late to meetings with the higher-ups because you fell asleep in his arms and he refused to wake you up. he'll tell a special grade curse he's fighting to wait a second because you sent him a cute text he wants to reread. should he notice someone checking you out, he'll appear beside them, praising their excellent taste. throw in a comment that they can have your phone number if they just approach you. then, every time they try, he'll warp them back a little further at a time.

this isn't to say no one is allowed to admire you, though. that wouldn't be fair. he likens it to if leonardo da vinci kept the mona lisa hidden in some dark, dusty corner. others can appreciate your beauty, so long as it's on his terms. poor nanami gets texted to pick between what dresses he should buy you, with the unnecessary addendum that 'it'll get ripped off at a later time wwww.' the very first time nanami heard gojo speak your name, he knew the strongest sorcerer was going to become infinitely more grating.

satoru just finds every second he spends with you worthwhile. whether it be the two of you lazing around in pajamas and watching a b-movie, or if you've been teasing him relentlessly all day, earning you a sleepless night. you're like air to him. there's something about being around you that has him hooked. which is why he never wants to put out that lovely flame burning within you. no, he stokes it, savors the burn that only you can leave on his skin. if you're his world, he has to be yours.

chrollo — 6.

you can call this man all sorts of negative labels and each one will apply. immoral? depraved? a murderer? all are perfectly true, he won't claim otherwise. from all the potential insults to sling his way, however, impatient can't be found among them. he's anything but that. his patience is impeccable. otherworldly, at times. he will sit there with a soft smile as you get upset in any manner you wish. he doesn't rush you or interrupt, you're allowed to get it out of your system. it's then that you realize the threat you're dealing with can't be properly understood.

from the list of real winners here, chrollo is the closest to being 'classy.' he holds doors open for you. takes your jacket off when you walk inside. pulls your chair out on dates. for anyone else, these acts would be hollow performances, but for you? oh, he adores every second. he wants to make your heart flutter. feel how your breath hitches as he clasps a necklace around your neck, the chain cold against your clammy skin. observe how your pupils dilate when he rolls his sleeves up to help cook, revealing toned arms.

he takes his time with you. would he love to bend you over and rail you against the nearest surface? absolutely. what he absolutely loves, though, is foreplay. testing how long an indulgent man such as himself can deny his base urges. chrollo wants to see the exact moment you realize that despite everything, you want him. you want him bad enough to discard your pride and accept the affections of someone you once called the devil. the thought alone makes him shudder with anticipation. it's how he maintains control when your skirt rides up or when you brush against him in your sleep.

eye contact is a must when you abandon your inhibitions and let him bed you. the expressions you make when his fingers curl against your walls, as he sinks into you for the first time, when you clench and come undone around him; everything is a delight that gives him such a rush. then there's your visage after you're done. how you wince when he pulls out, his cum seeping down your legs. it's like he can hear each neuron of yours firing away to form a rationalization for why you just let him fuck you.

he's patient, but that just means when he does get what he wants, he'll be starved for everything you can give.

blade — ???

blade either wants to go at it like rabbits or has the self-restraint of an ascetic who committed themselves to celibacy for life. there is no in-between.

his mara suggests that he break your legs and fuck you until eternity itself comes to an end. he possesses enough lucidity to realize he shouldn't do that, regardless of the tiny part of himself that coos over the idea. due to the extreme fantasies that'd cause you irreparable harm should he ever carry them out, blade shoves down his desire that's become intertwined with his mara. this works for a time. sure, you might be unnerved by how he's always staring at you, but at least the integrity of your legs is ensured. how romantic.

because truthfully, no matter how curt his words are or sharp his glare is when you test his patience, he likes you. it's such a childish sentiment that it makes him want to groan with embarrassment. he tried suffocating the budding attachment, going as far away from you as he could, only to come crawling back each time. what if you fell in love? what if you opened your legs for someone else? these fears grow to such a degree that it influences his swordplay. he may or may not have allowed his opponent to skewer his heart, to see if that'd get the traitorous organ to stop pounding away at the thought of you.

this cycle of denying himself of you -> returning with an intensified obsession carries over to his sex drive. even blade doesn't know what will tip him over. it could be you saying his name in a particularly cute voice, how you bite your lip while thinking about something, or just him getting a whiff of your shampoo as he walks by. the next thing he knows, he's throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to the closest bed. or couch. even a countertop will do. the abundance's curse on his body extends to his refractory period as well. he gets hard again almost immediately after he cums. especially because you'll be underneath him, out of breath, looking like you're meant to be ravished.

he'll do all the work, you don't have to move a muscle if you're too exhausted. he gives you his release in every way possible. inside you, on your chest, face, mouth, and inside your stomach from all the times you've swallowed his spend.

[ctheathy]

Yandere Changelings w/ human!Darling

The Changelings x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author's note: Gotta love these big buggo babies

reformed Changelings < unreformed Changelings

The Changelings/Reader [Platonic+Romantic-ish?]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

The Reader is quite humble • Abduction • Jealousy between changelings • Stalking • Invasion of privacy • Co-dependency • Aggression • Use of adhesive/the green goo • Violence • Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Predatory behaviour • Love feeding • Overfeeding/“Overdosing” on love • Heart failure • Corpses of changelings mentioned

Changelings have certainly never had a very positive reputation around Equestria. The species of bug-like creatures mainly known to have ruthless mannerisms that only acts on instinct. Especially when considering the changelings eat love and love alone to keep them from starving. As you can see... These creatures, too, need to feed. And so steal the love hidden within ponies and other living entities for themselves with brute force. And this tiny human here... has love, and a lot of it.

But despite being an aggressive species, they are also known to be rather curious towards creatures they've never seen or heard of before. Which is why being a human is really just a saving grace for you in this scenario. Cause instead of pouncing immediately purely from starving impulse, they know they'd need information to report back to the Queen first. And since this is the first human the changelings have ever met, their natural reaction to encountering a new species is to learn more about it instead of feeding off of it, atleast not before they got all the answers they'd be satisfied with. Considering you are the only source of love and affection around.

The first changelings that have noticed your presence may start seeing you as a tasty morsel. if love is like meat for them, then they're being deprived of it, and then the one creature comes along that's a walking talking buffet of love. They'd observe your actions and behaviours from a safe distance for a little while, taking note of aggression signs or being a potential threat to the hive. But in truth... you weren't. You were more of a lover than a fighter, which gave the changelings the signal to not waste any other opportunity to abduct you into the hive for some answers.

And that's... when something sparked.

Being calm and sedate in your position would usually cease a changelings’ natural instinct to hunt and would often cause in less aggression and forceful measurements. But even if they did try feeding from your love, that would be similar to essentially trying to suck from a dry well, because the transporting process from the human realm to Equestria drained you of many strong emotions to begin with, and it takes a lot more time for your entire alternation from universe to universe to take full effect. And the changelings wouldn't budge from their stubbornness until you reached out to one of them... Brushing a gentle hand over its malnourished frame.

The love that you'd contain would be a tad bit ‘different’ from normal love they'd consume, mainly due to the fact that they never had to actually take it with force. You gave it to them willingly, making the love inserted into them a lot stronger and effective than if they were to steal it. Which results in giving their bodies an intense emotional ‘shock’ as you basically feed them little by little... The shock would still feel good to them, like it would make them feel warm and light headed, but their heart would begin beating rapidly by the shot of immense adrenaline they just got.

The reason why changelings need love and affection in the first place was because they need it for their survival. The value feeds them. As they learn you're capable of feeling and giving love, they would want to keep you around permanently to feed. However, in extreme cases it might lead to a changeling becoming dependent upon one person's love. And their survival might be based on that person's love and affection. and what happens when that person's love and affection starts to falter? There is such a darker side to something so innocent as eating some consensual love.

Which could go either two ways...

Plan A being a bit more complicated. Since they ended up taking a ‘sample’ of you to basically extract the hormones and emotions of love, you had proven yourself to be more productive than all of the ponies they've held captive combined. Feeling more satisfied with the mere sip of love you've happily handed out to them than with any usual prey they had ripped the love from. But the Queen desires love too, because it is essential for their race. And because the hive is almost completely devoid of any love in the first place. You could become a sample for the Queen... Just keeping you there and farm you for love.

But there's also a considerable chance the changelings who captured you would scrap plan A and would instead focus on a plan B... Keep you a secret from Queen Chrysalis and prevent you from being cocooned at all costs, but only under the condition if you keep blindly feeding them with your lovey-dovey personality. Changelings tend to function with a very strict hive mentality... conclusions are set by the swarm's majority of drones’ standpoint. They all have a strong tendency to fall for group decision-making, but they're also quick to swap their beliefs if it seems like the right choice for the best of the colony. So it likely wouldn't even take long for the entire swarm to come to an agreement to keep you secured under high protection and warding.

Due to being a good source, you would give them more positive energy than any other creature who would falter in their fright after being captured... which would make you a rather popular target for the swarm of drones. To a point where the entire hive would start to view you as the "heart of the colony" of sorts. Because a changelings emotions are based on their diet. And the more love they receive, the more addicted and obsessed they'll become with it. So they would all be head over heels at some point, bordering on complete worship ...viewing you as an object of their affection and admiration. And getting even more physically violent to defend and protect you from what they consider a threat to their food source.

They might be feeding off of the love you give them and emotional positivity for now. But if they keep feeding and feeding, eventually they are probably going to want something else than just your emotions, which isn't good... But at the end of it all, they will want to protect you. But their methods might be a bit morally questionable. They have been looking for a more ‘sustaining’ source of love their entire lives. And from what we know... love only grows stronger.

So what happens when a creature becomes utterly emotionally dependant on someone?

What if... they begin to get obsessive?

Instead deciding to ensure no one else gets to have you?

Signs of attacks outside of the hive would become more apparent as time went on, a variety of breeds beginning to disappear aside with half dead creatures covered in adhesive emerging from their hideout as no entity even dares to get close to the shapeshifters. Some changelings would begin arguing with eachother over the delightful taste of your love. But knowing how naturally greedy and hostile they can get, these would convert to physical violence sooner or later, causing a bunch of internal conflict in the colony. A bunch of love starved changelings just riskily fighting over a single human.

It would get so bad, in fact, that there's possibly not even second you'll spend in the hive without a changeling being nearby, just ... watching you. With or without you knowing, there to strike and pull you back in at a moments notice if your demeanor gets too close to flight response. The changeling that you first bonded with would feel remorse about doing it, but the rest of them won't really care much as long as they can keep you in their grasp. Though you would still be allowed to travel closely outside of the hive, they'll keep their little eyes on you anyway...

You'd have this love that's a bit diluted, but even with just having a weaker type of love to feed off of, they'd have to feed for a longer time and drain their energy in order to get it. Which in terms causes in them taking more than they can physically handle. You aren't necessarily a dry well, but rather more of a dripping faucet while they are all dying of thirst. So they could still eat from your given love for a while, but if they try to go all out, there could be horrific consequences...

Because each of them are essentially trying to take enough to survive, their individual feeding sessions can become more aggressive. They don't want to kill you, nor do they understand how strong of a heart you have. So they don't see that they need to be gentle. Because in their eyes, you're considered weaker as a mortal. And your emotions, not being very strong, make their hearts race and they aren't feeding slowly and cautiously enough to keep the heart beating at its normal pace. You're basically a complete reverse card on them. To the point of them becoming so infatuated with you, that they literally forget what they are doing, and basically, accidentally kill themselves with a massive case of overdosing love.

The more of your love they take, the more they will like you. And the more they like you, the more they would try to suck it out. And the more they try to suck it out, the more it would turn into a "want" instead of something more natural. And then, that's when some would begin to die from overfeeding. The emotional shock and overdosing on love being much more overwhelming than the changeling's bodies are capable of handling. And of course, you wouldn't really understand why they were all suddenly lifelessly scattered around you...

It would be quite a challenge for many changelings to have the self control to prevent that fate. I doubt the majority of them would even understand the concept of death enough to avoid it even when their heart rate was going at unsafe speeds. The situation would honestly be safe for the changelings that have enough self-control to hold themselves back, but those who don't would become history real quick... Especially as changelings mainly seem to cocoon their prey. You may have more love to give when you're out in the open, but perhaps you even walking freely might just be enough to push many changelings over the edge.

Though this would also highly depend on the distinct personality of each changeling. Those who were more reasonable would try to just suckle in love. Then we have those who would become a bit feral and aggressive trying to tear the love out of you. Making it like a really twisted irony that they want love, but by trying to obtain love, in this way, they could essentially doom themselves. The ones who are more in control and more disciplined may survive. But either the greedier or younger, more immature changelings might get too excited and just want more and more. Which leads into them destroying their bodies via the very thing they wanted. The ones that do manage to control themselves will remain very interested in you however. But even if their fair sense of attachment and perhaps even bond towards you won't fade...

This is nothing more and nothing less than a parasitic relationship

[sirenedusud]

once more to see you (adar x elf!reader)

decades at a time, you find yourself crossing paths with the Uruk.

AN: hey guys i was listening to mitski and for some reason (yeah sure) i was filled with yearning for adar. he intrigues me so. i need help like mentally or something.

AN II: at some point the horny evaporated from my body and i was feeling something different, this ended up being like 30% adar lmao, BUT ALAS I WRITE FOR MY OWN PLEASURE AND I CANNOT HELP IT. enjoy.

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Dawn swept across the great delta, the pools of seawater and grains of sand glistened like stars as the sunlight dappled through the clouds. Eärendil's plea had been answered by the Valar, and so a host of your fellow elves from Valinor arrived upon the shores of Beleriand. You followed the call with haste as you wished to be reunited with your dearest friends in exile, but now your stomach turned at the sight ahead. A looming shadow crept over the mountain range, threatening to overtake what remained of Middle Earth's western shores.

Your company had concluded setting up camp the day before. Now only battle preparations were being rehearsed repeatedly, for no one could predict when the fight would erupt. You spent the entire morning doing drills you could have done as easily in your sleep and so decided to slip away from the encampment for a moment away. The forest gave you no comfort though, darkness lingered everywhere, muffling your hyperaware senses. Still you wandered, bow clamped tightly in one fist. Minutes later, you stumbled upon a clearing in the woods, but someone was already there. Their presence made your blood run cold; you notched an arrow for good measure.

It was too late though, the figure turned swiftly, looking directly at your frozen figure behind a tree. He did not draw his sword, nor did you release your arrow. You found yourself completely transfixed on him. He seemed to be an elf, with his long, pointed ears and tresses of midnight black hair.

Whatever danger oozed from him ceased now as his own eyes captured every inch of you. You noticed tear stains on his hollow cheeks, had he been crying before you came? You stepped out of the tree's shadow without hesitation, allowing the sunlight to pour down on you, illuminating your pale blue attire and long, woven hair. He only continued to gaze at you, as if he was studying the magnificent night sky etched with constellations.

“What is something so fair doing wandering on this dark path?” he asked calmly. Your cheeks flushed, but before you could open your mouth a horn blared in the distance and you pointed your arrow in its direction, then back at the elf. He was gone. This couldn't mean well. You ran back to the encampment as fast as you could to find elves running back and forth, your commander yelling at soldiers and captains alike. The war began.

***

The black blood mucked onto your armor would not budge regardless of how much pressure you rubbed at it with. With a sigh of defeat you dropped the filthy rag and laid your head on the boulder behind you. Decades had passed and the war continued. In this moment of stillness between the two fronts, you and Galadriel had led the injured away from the desolate northern regions. Your mind wandered on the events of the past years: the countless orcs you had slain, the mountains and plains which had been ravaged, the elves and men that fell to their death beside you, and the glimpses of the dark elf from the woods passing by you on the battlefield yet never crossing your path.

"What troubles you?" Galadriel's soft voice stirred your attention. She stood before you, glorious even through the weariness of war.

"Nothing. Nothing besides the stench of those rotting Orcs," you replied without a look to her, guilt creeping into your heart. She crouched down before you and took your hands into her own without another word.

A deafening roar split through the air suddenly, snapping everyone awake. Upon the northern horizon, winged serpentine beasts flew in your direction. Men and elves alike shouted at the sight in an uproar of confusion.

"What treacherous hole have those beasts crept out of?" one man cried out, looking to his own equally mortified commanders.

"So this is Morgoth's desperate assault," your tall commander pondered, before speaking loudly for all to hear, "his forces have been expended. Do not give into fear. Do not fear!" In a blur, you part from Galadriel and fall into line with the remaining soldiers charging back into the heat of battle. The dragons devastated the front line, scalding skin off of bone, melting armor and sword, snapping arrows like twigs. As one dragon swooped down to rake through soldiers, you shot a large arrow into the beast's eye, causing it to roar in pain, but too quickly it recovered to charge straight at you. In that moment, fear paralyzed you. The cloud of flame descending upon you grew hotter by the second, and you closed your eyes. No fear.

That was until a cold metal hand yanked you by the nape of your armor, dragging you away from the now burning spot. You opened your eyes to see a black-haired figure pulling you further and further away from the fields and into a dark ravine. The ground was bloodied, black trees stood completely charred here. The air hung thickly; perhaps it was from the dragon fire, perhaps it was only something between you and the elf. He finally stopped to release you, causing you to catch yourself from face-planting into the rocky ground. He paced a little ways further, keeping his back to you. The sounds of clashing metal and roaring dragons continued in the background, yet grew faint as you focused solely on your savior.

"Who are you?" you asked warily, a hand resting upon the slender blade on your hip, yet rather pathetically you wished nothing more than for him to gaze at you like in your last meeting. He does turn eventually, and his eyes do find yours, but they were filled with anguish so strong it drew a worried expression from your own face.

"I am..." he began, "I thought I was fighting for my children’s place in this world, but it seems I led them all to death..." Children? What children did he speak of? You knew he served Morgoth, alongside other monsters and tormented souls twisted into Morgoth's "creations,” but no children were on that battlefield. You stood up slowly, trying to navigate the elf's mood as he looked down at the ground. His scarred hand grasped his black sword tightly, but you crept closer. He looked up again, stopping you in your tracks as electricity crackled between the two of you.

His pale face was scarred so severely that you winced at the thought of what it looked like when they were fresh, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His melancholic grey-blue eyes shone upon a set of high-cut cheekbones. His thin lips parted to speak again, but his gaze dropped down to the black blood staining your armor. Suddenly, his eyes darkened and he grew angry, stepping away from you. You panicked at this change in temper and unsheathed your blade.

"Forgive me," he muttered before striking you across the head with the butt of his sword. The power of his hit threw you unconscious and you crumpled to the floor. For a moment he regretted his action, but the shrieks of the dragons snapped him back into reality. He pulled you behind some large rocks, out of sight from any dangerous passerby, and returned to the battle which costed him his kin. The battle which he knew Morgoth was losing.

***

The golden forest welcomed you with a gentle breeze as you walked down the rows of trees carved into figures of martyred elves. You stood before the familiar faces, ebbs of grief resurfacing in your heart. Decades had passed since the War of Wrath ended and now you remained in Middle-Earth with numerous other elves. Sometimes you longed for the light of Valinor, yet other times a dark desire only found in this foreign land kept you chained to Middle-Earth. Now, you simply resided in the elven kingdom of Lindon.

"There you are," Gil-galad's voice called to you gently. You turned to greet him, his eyes softened at the sight of your weary face. Your heart, on the other hand, leapt after taking in the sight of the golden king. Moments like this passed between the two of you before, a connection that yearned to blossom during these peaceful years spent together in Lindon, but you said nothing of it and neither did he with all his power in the world. He stepped closer to you, taking your hand into his larger, warmer ones before speaking.

"I know this look. I know you regret not joining Galadriel on her...search," he began, his golden rings dazzling in the sunlight, "but I have a task for you which I hope proves to be a distraction because I do not wish to see you mourn the past, wandering here in these woods alone." His voice grew firmer towards the end. He was right, long had you spent idly in solitude, spiraling in dark memories yet also refusing to return to Aman.

"What is your command?" you asked aloofly. Gil-galad let out a sigh and patted the back of your hand, guiding you back out of the forest and towards his halls.

"I want you to go see Celebrimbor. See what he is conjuring in that workshop that keeps him so occupied," Gil-galad continued, "I'm afraid our friend is not replying to my envoys as swiftly as I would like, and thought perhaps a more familiar face would get things out of him sooner." A stronger breeze passed through the exit of the woods, causing your eyelids to flutter shut and you to inhale deeply. You opened your eyes to find Gil-galad studying your face, then looking away shyly. Before entering the main hall, he turned to you, gently clasping his hands upon your shoulders.

"Go now. Take two with you," he instructed, "and allow that foul battlefield to leave your mind.”

***

The road to Eregion was short. Your companions became immersed in the citadel's magnificence upon arrival, and so you made your way to Celebrimbor alone. Sure enough, you found him in his workshop, chipping away at a slender blade handle made of polished marble.

"Celebrimbor-"

"Oh!" he shouted in surprise, the blade snapping off of the handle before him, "Ohhh." He turned to you with a frown, but immediately lit back up.

"It is a delight to see you my dear friend," Celebrimbor stood up to come closer to you, "such a delight! We must feast and drink on this occasion...for when was the last time you graced my humble workshop,” he rested one hand on your back as he began guiding you towards the doors you had just entered from.

“But you see…right now I'm quite busy." You began to protest with the elf, but he swept you out of the tower quicker than you could repeat Gil-galad's inquiries. With no other way back inside, you headed out of Eregion's main gates and into the woods. You hadn't meant to go wandering again, but your body had grown accustomed to this ritual: to walk deeper into the woods, fall deeper into memories with every step, become blind to what stood before you physically as your mind filled with images of the past.

The sun began to set and you found yourself in a small clearing full of sweet scented flowers and lightning bugs floating about. Images of the dark elf's face flashed before your mind’s eye, causing your heart to stammer. You admitted to yourself that right now more than anything you wanted to see him once more. The softness he spoke to you with, the scars on his pale face, the agony in his burning gaze, the way those same eyes were so captivated by you in the woods; everything about him was intoxicating. It was so pathetic of you, an Eldar, to be emotionally bound to a creature of darkness. There was now an emptiness within you that he had dug, a hollow that tore open even wider when you remembered him. You fell to your knees in a soft bed of moss, grabbing fists of your hair as you begged yourself to forget the enemy.

"This is madness! I've been marked by some ill will. It’s a stain. It's just a trick of the dark forces, not my own mind! Not mine, not mine, not mine." Your hands hammered at your head. You threw your body forward and released a frustrated scream and then, bereft of any more strength, remained in child's pose upon the soft green earth. Crickets began to chirp around you, and the sound of careful footsteps reached your ears as well. You should have looked to see who it was, but you chose to sulk in self-pity. They grew closer, stopping midway as if they had seen something, then began to head towards you before stopping mere feet away.

"Fair creature..." a low voice spoke above you. You whipped your head up to find the darkling standing before you, clad in full black attire. Suddenly, you became aware of your lack of weapons, but then fell distracted by two tears escaping your eyes. It is a strange sensation, unfamiliar to you completely. Two drops of warm water traced down your cheeks and into the crevices of your lips, the taste of salt hitting your tongue, before continuing down your chin. You raised a hand to wipe the salty rivulets away, but a thumb in a black glove found them first. The dark elf knelt before you, looking curious as ever.

"How are you here?" Numerous questions filled your head at once, but time was of the essence with someone as fleeting as this elf.

"I fled in the end with my remaining children, in...someone else's refuge,” he hesitated with his words. He was afraid to reveal too much, yet he yearned to be vulnerable with you because he felt that he could. You caught his hand before it dropped away from your face, and rubbed your thumb against the back of his glove. He fell into a trance again, bewitched by your beauty, the beauty of elves he could no longer recall from his own memory. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as he kept his hand in yours, your questions now forming quicker in your mind than on your tongue.

"Who are you? You left me in the mountain last we met. Why did you do it? Why not kill me? I killed…so many of yours," you spoke frantically. His eyes grew hurt, but he did not pull away from you.

"For as long as I can remember, I am called Adar," he began slowly, "My kin and I are Uruk. Yes, you killed many of them, yet I do not know why I spared you. I know...I saw something in you that day in the woods. Something that I should have turned away from, but I gave into it in that moment, and then again in the battle." Your face flushed and it was your turn to cease eye contact. Whatever intense desire you felt, he had felt it too, you were sure of this. All the sinners of Middle-Earth could have been pointing and laughing at you in this moment. You grew afraid, so afraid of how relieved you were to be with Adar right now, to know him a little more.

"I know what it is that stopped you from killing me," you tested your words as you were still apprehensive of this servant of Morgoth, "I felt it too." Slowly, you pulled Adar's hand up to your heart. For a moment the two of you remained like this, then he uttered something in a foreign tongue and pushed you away. He marched away from you before turning around.

"Do not ever seek me out," he said hoarsely, "for your own sake."

***

The waves lapped at the edge of the harbor on which you stood upon. You watched as some elves began to slowly board the ship set for Valinor. Galadriel stood beside you, looking increasingly agitated as her time to board came closer. Her company had returned several days ago from their search for Sauron, but the elves refused to carry on, forcing their commander to fall back as well.

You turned to Galadriel and she mirrored you. You gave her a weak smile, knowing full well she did not wish to take this gift of returning to Aman.

“Perhaps you could speak with Gil-galad once, since Elrond was of no use in this,” she said with a hint of hope, but you shook your head.

“If I speak any word of this to him, he’ll put me on that boat too and be rid of the both of us,” you turned to look back as you spoke, catching sight of the king in the distance. He gave you a small nod, perhaps thinking you were having a heartfelt farewell with your friend. Galadriel let out an airy laugh as she glanced at the king as well.

“Well, why aren’t you coming with us?” Galadriel inquired suddenly, curious as to why you had bound yourself to Middle-Earth. You looked at her shyly but simply shrugged; if you told her the truth you knew she would have dragged you onto the ship herself.

“There is still much I want to see. Things not as troubling as well, Sauron,” you responded slowly, taking the last few steps on the dock with Galadriel before she boarded the white ship. She turned back one last time to embrace you, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“I know he is alive,” she whispered.

“I believe you,” you reassured her before releasing her. She muttered a final goodbye before turning to face the front of the ship. You watched as Círdan, Master of the Grey Havens, stepped off the ship before it made its way out of the harbor. Galadriel, nor any of the other elves, turned back. You watched until the ship became a speck on the horizon, until the sun began to set, and until Elrond reached for your arm to guide you away from the harbor.

***

The elves of the Southlands were to return home. Wishing to escape Gil-galad’s ever-watchful eye, you chose to carry this message to the Watchtower of Ostirith. The elves spoke ill of the men in the villages below, who all felt the same way towards the elves even though they were severely defenseless without them. Save Arondir, who had grown fond of one particular woman. Oftentimes you wanted to advise him against it, to say that he would only be hurt if he chose to love a mortal, but you yourself chose worse things to love.

Upon one quiet morning, something had drawn you to the black forest surrounding the tower. The silence of these woods became unnerving though after walking through them for half an hour and you contemplated turning back, but you found yourself lost. You could not sense the way you came from at all. Terror split into your mind as you trekked down the path you were certain you had come from, desperately scanning the forest floor for signs of your own footprints. You were beginning to lose daylight, and prayed the woods were as empty as they sounded.

You suddenly stumbled into a thicket of webs and groaned at the white strands sticking to your hair and clothes.

“Cursed things! Spiders this close to people? Or, perhaps…I am not as close to civilization as I thought I was…” you trailed off into thought as you cut through the webs. The task at hand becoming so distracting that you did not detect one spider crawling up behind you. Your ears had caught the sound of one of its feet slipping though, but before you could turn to parry its attack, you found the arachnid dead with a black arrow through its skull. It fell with a loud thud to your feet, and you stared, dumbstruck, at the archer. Adar stood there, though not as shocked as you. You scrambled out of the webbed mess and straight to him, desperate to catch him before he slipped away again.

“I caught sight of you when you entered the forest. I sensed you were lost and only followed to make sure you returned to Ostirith in one piece–“ Adar began but stopped as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his armored chest.

“Please, please don’t leave! Please stop doing this to me,” you pled. A split second later Adar dropped his bow and clung onto you as well, his one bare hand raking through your long, soft hair. He pressed his face into your smooth forehead, and inhaled your floral scent, absorbing anything and everything he could of you. No guilt or shame reached you now. It was as if no one could see you, not Ostirith, not Gil-galad, nor the Valar.

“What does an Eldar want to have to do with me?” Adar’s question finally broke your peace. You looked at him in confusion, your mind juggling between reality and its possibilities.

“You could be forgiven, you did not know what you were going to be forced to do when Morgoth had twisted you into…none of this has to be your burden,” you rambled, but Adar shook his head.

“I cannot abandon my children. They have every right to be free in Middle-Earth as anybody else.”

“Children? What are these children you keep speaking of?” you sighed as you took a small step back and planted your hands to your hips. Adar smiled down at you, but inwardly he prepared for you to finally be disgusted by him, to finally reject him and free the both of you from this tangled web of emotions.

“The Orcs,” he explained, “they had been abused by Morgoth once, and I cannot allow it to happen again. They deserve to be free, to have their own land, with no ruler above them…I wish to grant them this peace.” You stared at Adar incredulously. What madness could possess someone to pity the vile Orcs?

“The only peace you could grant them is to put an end to their treacherous existence,” you replied harshly. Adar’s eyes grew angry for a moment, but his pent up desire caused him to soften under your stern gaze. You trembled as you began to realize that perhaps he would not join you in this eternal life, the darkness had truly twisted his soul. As if sensing this, Adar grasped your chin with his hand and forced you to look into his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do…” your lip began to quiver.

“For now…be here with me,” the Uruk responded before dipping his head down to capture your lips in his. You immediately melted into his armored body, any flame of despair within you extinguished. You kissed him back fervently, your hands reaching for his neck, lips feeling every inch of his cold ones. He rocked your head gently to the side, giving himself more leeway to devour your lips. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, a cold metallic taste filling your senses. His hands wandered down your body, slowly squeezing every bit of you from your breasts to your hips. A moan slipped out of you after one of his hands trailed back upward and gave your throat a soft press.

Twigs snap in the distance and you lurched back from Adar. His cold eyes scanned into the dark forest, his body covering yours protectively. After a minute passed, he turned back to you. His own heart, which he once thought long dead, jumped at the sight of you. The moonlight illuminated your flushed cheeks, your lips now glistening from the kiss, and the ardor in your eyes.

“We are not alone, fair creature,” Adar whispered to you between kisses on your cheek then nose then other cheek, “Your kin searches for you. Go to them.” You wanted to protest, but Adar only brushed a hand through your hair once more before stepping back into the forest, fading without a trace.

“There you are,” Arondir’s voice came from behind you. You turned to face the stoic elf with a dazed expression. He did not ask you why you were here, but simply beckoned you to follow him back to the tower. On your way back, you turned the cold taste of Adar on your tongue over and over again.

***

Arondir led you straight back to the tower, but before entering the fortress, he turned on his heel to face you.

“Who was with you out there?” he asked.

“Wh-what?” you stammered as the question caught you by surprise.

“Who was with you in the woods?” Arondir repeated, emphasizing each word. He took a step forward, looking down at you sternly. Your blood ran cold. Did he already know? Could you lie?

“I was lost, I was talking to myself. There wasn’t any–“

“Do not lie!” Arondir’s jaw tightened as he snapped at you. You stood with your mouth agape, feeling as if you were shrinking smaller and smaller under his judgmental gaze.

“Did you not think I could sense the darkness lingering on your flesh?” you shivered as he continued, “and to think…you succumbed to it so easily.”

“You don’t understand! It was nothing of that sort!” you pled but to no avail. Arondir scowled, turning away from you and headed into the tower.

“It is best you leave these lands. For good,” Arondir called over his shoulder before leaving you alone in the dark. You fell to your knees, praying under your breath for the night sky to come down and swallow you up from your spot.

***

When you reached Lindon, two soldiers immediately led you to Gil-galad. As you entered the king’s study, you noticed a crumpled letter on his ivory desk, as if he had read it and crushed it in his palm immediately. The tall elf stood with his back to you for several minutes, sweat began to form at your hairline. Finally, he turned to you with a somber expression.

“Do you know what I just read?” he asked, barely in a whisper.

“Gil-galad…” he raised a trembling hand to stop you regardless of asking you a question. He stepped around his desk and loomed over you. His eyes searched yours for something you could not decipher. He raised a pointing hand as he spoke.

“Tomorrow, at first light, there is a ship leaving for Valinor. You will take it, and you will not have any say in this,” he seethed. Disappointment burned in his eyes, and for once you became afraid of him. Naturally, you did not protest and without another word bowed to Gil-galad before turning to leave the room.

Hot tears streamed down your face as you made your way as far as you could from everyone. You kept your face down in shame, making your way to the edge of the city before bumping into someone. You looked up to see Elrond. His mouth parted in surprise but he quickly swept you into a tight embrace, patting your back as you stifled a sob.

“Surprised he didn’t send you off with Galadriel the first time,” Elrond joked quietly, but his voice remained solemn. He did not ask anything else of what had happened in the Southlands, even though he knew the basis of it.

“I should have left the moment the war ended.”

***

The waves were gentle as they carried your ship closer and closer to the golden rays before you. Warmth hummed within your chest as the clouds parted completely to reveal the brilliance of Aman. The welcoming light grew stronger, infiltrating every bit of your surroundings. Your senses began to buzz entirely. Any despair in your mind melted away, and the hollow in your heart filled with something soft and kind. A song from the Amanyar carried through the breeze; the chorus of silken voices beckoned you home.

[toruro]

— ✧ angel

pt.2

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

description. in which you’re mingyu’s girlfriend, so sweet and innocent that he can’t help but ruin you.

tags. smut (18+), boyfriend!mingyu, corruption kink, loss of virginity, size kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, pure filth honestly, but also kinda fluffy w/c. 1.8k

"angel," your boyfriend coos, lifting his head from between your legs as you lean back into the soft cushions of his bed. your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes shut tight as you try to steady your erratic breaths. "angel," he murmurs more intensely again.

the finger that's on your clit has ceased the circular movements that drove you into your first orgasm, and now are being traced down into your soaked folds. you twitch at the feeling, pussy still oozing with your cum and and mingyu's saliva, the two mixing into hot and filthy and dripping mess that has mingyu's brain circuits rewiring.

"m-mingyu," you manage to say meekly, finally opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend who seems encapsulated by the fluttering petals of your cunt.

"you taste so good baby," mingyu praises, pushing himself up, bare upper body muscles flexing as he does so, crawling up and sliding his tongue into your mouth. you taste yourself against him, moaning at the way his arms cage around you, holding you down. "can't believe i'm the only person who ever gets to taste you," he mutters, pulling away.

your cheeks burn at the words—yeah, he just ate you out like you were the last meal he'd ever have, but having him say such stuff is embarrassing and...it's turning you on. "only yours, gyu," you affirm, reaching up to hold one of his hands.

mingyu watches the way you squirm at his dirty words, grinning because yeah you're his sweet, innocent girl, and yeah he's gonna fuck you silly until you can't think about anything but him.

the way your fingers lace with his remind him that you're here with him and that he's gonna do everything and anything to make sure that after tonight, you're never even going to think about wanting anyone else—he already knows your heart belongs to him (as does his to you), but somethings need to be fucked into you for good measures, right?

"you think you're ready, angel?" mingyu asks, and the look in his eyes is so sincere you forget about how you know he's going to pounce once you give him the green light. he's already slipping off his boxers and fuck, his cock springing free—you've seen it before (had it in your mouth two nights before when mingyu taught you how to give a blowjob) but now, this is different. you shudder at the thought of something so long, so thick, so perfect inside of you. all you can manage in response to him is a dumb nod of your head, eyes zoning in on his length as you feel heat pool at your core.

"i need words, baby," mingyu says sternly, directing your gaze back towards his face.

"yeah gyu, 'm ready," you agree quickly, hooking your arms under your knees so you can pull them up next to your chest, your pretty pussy all swollen and sticky displayed in front of him.

"fuck," he hisses when he sees your eyes glossy and lips puffy, shuffling forward as he sits up on his knees, he guides his cock between your legs, wasting no time to slide it between your folds. you let out a small squeak at the sound and fuck mingyu thinks he can cum from that sound alone.

you're just so cute and so sweet and so in love with him and the thought that he's going to be the first and the only one to experience this with you has his mind racing.

he covers his length in your wetness for a few moments and then he's slipping the tip upwards so it nudges against your clit. the stimulation has you jerking a little on the bed, and mingyu chuckles at your reaction. "so fucking cute," he mumbles, before you furrow your eyebrows and glance down at what he's doing.

when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

mingyu's sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core.

he's sizing you up.

he's trying to see just how far in he's going to be, just how deep he's going to fuck you, and by the looks of it, it's gonna be pretty fucking deep. mingyu lets out a breathy laugh, and you find yourself growing more and more desperate by the second. "gyu, please," you beg, shifting your hips so he can get the message. "wanna feel you so bad."

"me too angel, me too," he tells you, still staring down at the way his cock is so big it's reaching your stomach. your hand is still intertwined with his, and he brings it up next to your head so it's pinned down. "tell me if you want to stop, yeah? promise you'll tell me?"

"i promise." mingyu shifts above you after your words, and then you feel his his arm tip prod against your sopping cunt and that's when you know it's coming.

you suck in a breath when he pushes in, and even with the prep from his fingers and his tongue, mingyu feels so big and so full inside of you. "oh my god," you gasp as he pushes in further, looking up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

kim mingyu is looking down at you with nothing less than pure adoration and absolute hunger.

your walls are hugging him so tight and you're so warm and—god he can't take this anymore—you're looking up at him with your mouth slightly open with small, breathy moans escaping your lips, and then there's those tears slipping from the corners of your eyes and an odd sense of pride fills his body.

he continues to sink his length into you, murmurings words of praise like, "you're doing so good baby," or, "just a little more angel, you can do it," and, "that's a good girl, my good girl," finally stilling once he's bottomed out.

your legs are shaking around his torso and mingyu massages the flesh of your thighs as he kisses you softly, doing his best to dull the ache that resides in your lower half.

"you feel so big—feel so full gyu," you moan absentmindedly after he pulls his lips away, and mingyu has to collect all the self control he's ever had to not snap his hips back and pound right into you. he lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.

"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that," mingyu warns, and the way your eyes flicker up toward his all sparkly and innocent has his mouth running on a mind of its own. "i'm going to ruin you."

the way you squeeze him like a vise after his statement has mingyu groaning, rocking his hips into yours, a strangled moan escaping your lips. for a second, mingyu is scared that he's crossed a limit, but when he looks down at the drool that's dribbling down your chin and feels your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, he thinks otherwise.

"m-more," you manage out, swiveling your hips upwards so you chase more the feeling of mingyu's cock inside of you.

"angel, are you su—"

"you said you wanted to ruin me, right?" you beg desperately. "right gyu? so can you? please?" your voice is so raw and mingyu knows that he promised to fuck you silly, but it feels like he's the one who might just get lost in pleasure.

he wastes no time dragging his full length out of you, giving you less than a second's break before plunging his cock back in. your back arches off the mattress, chest pushing impossibly close to his as he grapples at your thigh, fucking you harder after every thrust.

your pussy is on fire in the best way possible—you've never felt so full before, and suddenly you're left wondering if you're ever going to be able to go on without having mingyu's cock buried deep inside of you.

squelching of your pussy's fluids echos through the room, in harmony with the slap of mingyu's skin against yours every time he sinks back into you. his length is pressing up, so massive inside of you, that you can feel every curve, every vein, and the intimacy of this all already has that hot, familiar knot bubbling up in your core.

"oh my god," you gasp, throwing your head back as mingyu adjusts his hips, hitting a new spot inside of you that has your nails pressing hard into the skin of his back. "oh my—fuck, mingyu!" you cry out as he leans up a little, moving his hands from yours and gripping your hips.

he's pulling your body into his with every snap of his hips, and the way your babbling on and on about how good, how full, how amazing this all feels—mingyu feels his own orgasm bubble up at the thought that he was somehow able to make his perfect girlfriend even more insatiable.

with his head lifted further away from you now, mingyu is able to glance over the full form of your body, and that's when he sees it. the sight has him stilling his movements, and through your cries, you look up at him with confusion. he reaches over, grabbing your hand and placing it on you stomach, and you instinctively run your palm over your lower belly until you feel it.

your head shoots up to look at it and there it is—the outline of mingyu's cock prodding against your stomach and all that's racing through your mind is 'mingyu, mingyu, mingyu.'

and then he's spilling out dirty words of his own as he pulls back and continues to the fuck into you, the imprint of his length disappearing and appearing every few moments when he thrusts back into, just as hard, just as deep as the one before.

"what a fucking angel," he grunts, "making room for my cock—fuck you're sucking me in," he moans as you clench around him, the coil that sizzles inside of you threatening to snap. "are you gonna cum baby? do it, fucking drench me angel."

and then you let go.

thrashing in his hold, you ride out your orgasm with fluttering walls and high pitches moans as mingyu fucks you through it, the sight of you reaching your end throwing him off his own. the feeling of hot, sticky cum shooting inside your fucked through cunt has you moaning, "mingyu! mingyu!"

hearing the way you call out his name, mingyu, in his post-orgasmic state, smiles to himself, watching you come down from your second high of the night.

in that moment, with your tear stained cheeks, limp limbs, and swollen pussy, mingyu knows that you were made just for him, and he would fuck you a million times over and more if it meant having you by his side.

a/n. hope u liked it! please leave likes/comments and reblog! pt.2 is right here!

[cybermindz]

oscar piastri x gn!reader

summary ─┈ · · · with an incredible but tough race, you wanted to help oscar unwind and show him how proud you were of how far he’s gotten in his rookie season.

contains ─┈ · · · 18+, explicit, fluff(?) : soft!oscar, shy!reader, oral male receiving, cock worshipping lol, all done in the shower :0, use of petnames (e.g. baby, love) wc : 3.5k

a/n ─┈ · · · qatar 2023 oscar you will always be famous!! i cant believe these photos exist, it changed lives (mine). it took me ages to finish this, the season is literally over so he’s no longer a rookie, but will always be my pookie 😔.

꒰ 𖥻masterlist ꒱

The weekend was tough. With Qatar being an extremely hot country, this specific grand prix was more physically demanding than any other. It really was an understatement with how humid it was, given the fact that the nation was in the Middle East—whose terrain comprises on an arid desert.

Most of the racers fell ill after because of this environment, it was strenuous and fatiguing—also considering the extra protective layers they wore under their suits for safety measures only added on to the heat.

You couldn't wrap your head around how these athletes made ends meet with the situation, continuing on with the race until they nearly pass out, some even voicing how it might’ve been the most difficult one in their career. This impressed you more than anything, even you as a spectator—watching the track on the sidelines, had sweat beading at your skin, clothes sticking to your body in a loathsome way, and all you were doing is just sitting there watching—unable to fathom what they were up against.

Nevertheless, under all of these conditions and circumstances, your boyfriend Oscar manages to gain his second ever podium in his Formula 1 career, finishing P2 at that. In addition to the day prior, he was able to accomplish winning the sprint race, snagging himself a nice heavy plaque to carry along while traveling—putting on a little more weight to his suitcase.

With him being able to achieve more than most on the grid in his rookie season, everyone was left astounded, you included. He never ceases to amaze you with how calm and collected he was—being true to his nature and staying resilient throughout the difficult weekend, all apparent with the fight he had put up within the three days. It was praiseworthy and you couldn’t be more proud of what he’s made himself out to be.

You can never get tired of his post-race glow. He looked so good the second he was out of his car, mouthing to you how hot it was once his face was revealed from his helmet. You almost felt bad for the poor guy but your knees nearly buck at the sight of his rounded cheeks flushed with a light pink tint, hair disheveled, and the sweat glistening on his pale skin was rather distracting for you.

Furthermore, he was slightly out of breath, evidently burning up so he decides to dump a cold bottle of water down the nape of his neck in hopes to cool down, and you swear your brain short-circuited. Something about that action ignited a fire within you that you choose to try to ignore.

There was just something about your boyfriend that you couldn't resist. He was so handsome and kind, consistently showering you with so much love and patience. You were incredibly blessed to have him. Even with him doing nothing but just standing there on the podium, he had your heart racing.

Everyone else watching for the duration of his journey can tell that his progress was slowly increasing significantly along with his emotions. So it was rather refreshing for them to witness him so gleeful, showing expressions and reactions he usually rarely displays to the public.

He stood so confidently and upright, gazing down at you with a wide toothy grin. Because of how much of a considerate speaker he was during media and race days—with his grounded and quiet personality he never seemed to lash out or strayed away from his maturity, remaining humble no matter the situation. Today was just an exception though, he felt happy and fulfilled with the results, so embracing it was the best thing to do right now. However luckily for you, you're able to see that cheery side of him constantly behind closed doors.

When the ceremony goes on to play, your pupils dilate automatically like they do when it's dark outside to try to adjust and let more light in, but now it's because it's the light of your favorite person.

Since the outcome was a double podium for McLaren, everyone was overjoyed with the aftermath, loud cheers and big hugs were shared amongst the team. You'll never get tired of being part of times like this, they were genuinely so heartfelt and sentimental that you hope you can experience many more like this in the future.

Oscar was so content and lost in the moment, you couldn’t withstand not taking any photos—snapping a few pictures to cherish and gawk at later only seemed like the exact thing to do. Your eyes sparkle with joy and admiration whilst you continue to stare at the drivers spraying champagne on one another. He's laughing, smiling so wide that the apple of his cheeks were so supple and plump—all too contagious that you couldn't bite back your own lips from curling upright—feeling so fortunate to be witnessing it all.

The bubbly white drink sprays and dribbles everywhere, you focus on the way it drips down Oscar's skin and soaks his race suit. He looked absolutely captivating with the fabric clinging onto his frame, broad shoulders becoming more prominent causing a sudden warm rush of need to fill your body, only adding more fuel to the flames in your tummy that you so desperately tried to push away earlier. The cogs in your brain turn slowly, erotic thoughts plaguing your foggy mind that you must act on right away or you’ll go crazy.

Once everyone was back at the garage you were the first one to immediately engulf him into a tight hug. Your peers surrounding you felt the pure fondness shared between the two of you, unable to hide their smiles from the affection being flaunted.

"I'm all wet and gross," he speaks, but not denying your embrace.

"I don't care, congratulations on getting on the podium...again." you’re giggling, pulling away to get a good look at his pretty face before giving him a soft peck on his lips. Only to quickly shy away and hide your face in the crook of his neck as you aren't one for pda.

Noticing your embarrassment he chuckles—breath tickling your neck, all the while rubbing your back to coax you, "Thank you, my love."

The edges of his eyes start to soften, even getting a little teary which appears like he can't control before closing them and resting his chin on top of your shoulder. He squeezes you a little more firmly against him to seek comfort that only you can provide for him after a tiring and grueling day.

His heart clenches in an uncomfortable way that he was incompetent of understanding. Maybe it’s because of the race that has his emotions all over the place, or maybe it’s the exhaustion taking over his body, but seeing as you were right by him supporting his every move like you always have, he feels everything all at once.

He was grateful to have someone like you, so selfless and sweet. Whatever the occurrence or situation, you were ceaselessly ready to drop everything at hand to help or support with anything in need for him. Oscar loves you too much—not only for what you are, but for what he was when he was with you. He felt more like himself around you, never putting up a front whenever you were at arms reach, being genuine with each and every part of the relationship. You were his rock, you grounded him, and he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

“I love you.” you whisper oh so quietly that no one else can hear but he was able to pick up that sweet voice of yours easily.

“I love you more.”

Throughout the rest of the night you latched onto his side like a leech which doesn't go unnoticed by him, only chucking it up to you just being delighted with the results of the race. Though normally, you were never one to display clinginess, so when you didn’t seem to waver away from him and when your soft touches became more bold until you got back to the hotel—it came as a slight surprise. Especially when you rid of his clothes to pull him into an ice cold shower with you, intending to wash away that pent up stress and sweat he carried with him all day.

Hardly ever being the one to initiate things like this—you always backed out sheepishly, citing that you were embarrassed or self-conscious to venture further yourself before eventually having him take over the lead. At all times he respected your wishes and boundaries, only doing what you wanted. Not once did he press you additionally to do something you were uncomfortable with and anytime you both decide to get intimate with each other he makes it a point to always go slow. Taking his time on breaking you down until you couldn’t think clearly anymore was always rewarding for him in the end.

This was still fresh to him, it wasn't very often where he found himself under the inexperienced touch of his shy partner—the very same person who got flustered whenever accidentally walking in on him changing. So it didn’t come as a shock to see him hardening right before your eyes from the contact of your skin on his.

You aren’t naive, albeit bashful, yet you knew exactly what effect you had on him. But because of the confidence that exudes from him, the way he seemed to never give a fuck and not taking shit from anyone—it naturally made you feel a little intimated. Though it was never in a bad way—entirely the opposite actually. He was a hunk of a man, a head taller than you, and it didn’t hurt that he was painstakingly attractive. It was weirdly endearing, how you immediately go blank at the sight of him, the butterflies in your stomach never calming down at moments like these.

His back faces the shower head while you stood in front of him, rinsing his hair and body—cleaning off the sticky champagne and musk. The only sounds your ears can make out are the pitter patter from the cold water hitting his muscles and your feeble heart pounding erratically as your palms massage his tense shoulders.

Oscar already feels himself relaxing in your touch, melting at how the tip of your fingers begin to roam all across the rough skin of his torso, but there’s a slight hesitation to it. Your hands begin to tremble, you’d like to think it was because of the icy precipitation of the water instead of your nerves. His eyes bore into yours with concern, feeling your eagerness switch into anxiousness in an instant. One of his own strong hands reaches over to place it at your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles on your now goose-bumped skin.

"You alright love?”

You don't answer him, opting to find the tiles of the shower behind his head more interesting, heat rising to your cheeks at once. He jerks your chin with his fingers from his other hand to have you look at him, and yet you focus anywhere but him as he searches for your eyes, “What is it baby? Do you wanna get out?”

Shaking your head in disagreement almost immediately, your irises finally reaching him with scrunched brows, clearly contemplating a thought. He can tell there was something hiding behind those eyes, he was able to read you well like the back of his hand. There was a sense of longing lingering along with uncertainty and doubt. He picked that up whenever you were aroused and desperately wanted to do something but too timid to continue and pursue on it.

Oscar wasn't trying to take advantage of your vulnerability, he would never do that. The patience of your boyfriend was admirable and you thank him relentlessly for it. All you really needed at times was a small little push so he presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss to try and encourage you to say something, anything—this benefited your worries to slowly wash away, seeping down the drain as you attempt to build up some confidence.

“Just...really happy right now." you mumbled quietly after a long pause, unable to keep yourself from shifting even closer to him.

"Yeah?" there’s a sigh of relief coming from him, another pause fills the room as he listens to you. Tuning out the sound of the shower—all white noise in the background currently as his fingers that held your chin now caresses your jaw in hopes to urge you more.

“Mhmmm,” your eyes avert to your hands resting at his chest, fidgeting with your fingernails while choosing your next words carefully, “You were real cool out there y’know? You did amazing, I can tell how capable you are of the things you do, makes me really proud.”

He smiles at your little confession, snaking his arm around you so the front half of your bodies are now pressing against each other, warming up one another, the previous efforts of trying to cool down from the insanely hot day were now pointless.

“Can I show you how much?"

Oscars eyebrows raise in surprise at the proposition, "Hm? How will you show me?”

He thinks of how beautiful his little lover looked, flustered under his gaze because of how unsure on what the next moves should be. God, how touched his heart was. You were absolutely perfect to him, so considerate and devoting.

"Wanna take care of you, make you feel good. Please?"

You felt his cock twitch from your words, and with your faces just merely inches apart, the air starts to become thicker around you by the second, getting harder to breathe. He swears he’ll never take this moment for granted, your shell finally cracking away little by little for him. Oscar yearned for this, a pleased smile plastered on his face to showcase how proud he was of you just as much as you were of him.

"Do whatever you want with me, 'm all yours love."

You took a moment there, feeling bashful from him peering down at you. Pulling away from him, just enough to reach in between your heated bodies, you take notice of his stiffened cock leaking pre-cum from it’s flushed red tip.

“Can I touch it?”

"Y-yeah, 'course baby,” he agrees but he isn’t prepared for the feeling of your soft hand encompassing the girth of his cock.

"'S so big...'n pretty." you whisper more to yourself at the observation, this wasn’t the first time you’ve been face to face with each others intimate parts, hell you’ve had sex numerous times but it was still a staggering sight no less.

He never thought he was particularly gifted in terms of size, but when he saw how big he looked in your hand, it was almost too much for him. Your fingers didn't even touch around the thickness. He's sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth when you give him a single, slow stroke. This causes him to throw his head back, water now running down his face. His breathing begins to slowly pick up as he relaxed, letting his eyes flutter closed.

The pre-cum oozing out of the head easily drips down his length, aiding in lubricating himself up.

Your movements are a bit clumsy as you didn’t do this very often for him but you really think you should because he looked so enticing, aroused by something as simple as a handjob. You, his sweet, little lover who used to shield away from kisses at the beginning of your relationshinp had his cock wrapped around your hand and he was simply going mental from it all.

His eyes goes back to lock onto the way you stroked him. The fat sensitive head peeked out from under your fist every time you moved your palm upwards before you slowly went down, gently tugging the skin with your movements.

“That feels really good,” he lets out a low curse, hissing at the pleasure.

You seem to mull over his words but this wasn’t nearly enough for you, you don’t think you’d be satiated from him coming just from your hands, so you bend down until your knees come into contact with the hard tiled floor. When he looks down to follow your body, it feels like all the air gets punched out of his lungs. Your pretty face just mere centimeters away from his aching length, pupils blown wide with water dripping down your supple skin. He seemed to get a real kick out of the sight because he’s pulsating in the palm of your hand.

Your thumb came up to rest against the tip, lightly padding over the drooling slit. Rubbing the sensitive head while your other hand reaches over to pump him—picking up the pace, your eyes flickered between his fucked out face and glistening cock. He was warm in contrast to the chilly air around you, stiff in your grip, the thick vein on the underside throbbing in time to his heartbeat. His strong meaty thighs twitched with every movement and his short breaths begins to turn into pants.

"S-Spit on it, baby," he suddenly moaned.

Not letting another second pass after his request you leaned over, lips puckered before spitting down directly on his tip. Drooling to have a taste, the muscle in your mouth peeks out to wet your lips before having it ghost over his shaft. The first soft drag of your tongue up the bottom of his cock makes him jump. He isn't ready for the way your lips softly nip the skin, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin.

“Fucking hell,” the tip of your tongue grazes the slit to force more pre-cum out, and you’re smiling to yourself, making his entire body jolt, “You’re killing me.”

You even stop to pay his heavy balls some attention, remaining gentle as you know how sensitive they are. He isn't the biggest fan of when you play with his balls but he does nothing to stop you as you slide your wet tongue along the seam, dragging it all the way up his length before dropping a wet, noisy kiss back on the leaking head.

“You taste good,” you whisper, flicking your tongue up and down the slit again, the sensation has his body buzzing from the stimulation.

He reaches forward to cup your jaw, gently urging you to open your mouth with his tip making you shiver. He lets out a stuttering sigh as you take the head into your mouth, eyes fluttering at the full flavor of him on your tongue.

"S-Shit,” he panted, wrapping a hand in your hair to tug you closer, "Just like that.”

Hollowing out your cheeks you start to drag your mouth down his cock, forcing half of him until the tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand takes up the rest of the space that your mouth can’t reach. Squeezing and stroking him as you start to suck on him.

He clamps his eyes shut as you work, showing his cock all your affection and he has no choice but to take it. His body trembles, muscles clenching every time you tease over a particularly sensitive spot, his moans getting more and more shameless and louder with every passing moment.

Oscar was blissed out, flushed and heaving looking as handsome as ever much like after the race today, your heart thrums loudly against your ribcage from the view and excitement.

With your head bobbing up and down, loud slurps fills his ears as your spit gathers increasingly to aid you into going faster. He starts to involuntarily rut his hips in tune with your strokes, dangerously close to his peak already.

When he opened his eyes again, he knew he was doomed. You're teary eyed, drool seeping down your chin and neck. You looked a complete mess though breathtakingly alluring—shifting on your knees, and rubbing yourself with your free hand. The sight makes him moan, grip in your hair tightening before his body goes taut.

"Fuck 'm gonna come,” he warns through gritted teeth.

You bravely took all of him in your mouth upon his statement, gagging around his length that sends vibrations throughout his spine. When you come back up, you take him out to breathe only to flinch as he suddenly came, the first splatter of cum hits your face catching your cheeks and hair whilst he mutters out mindless apologies.

Your boyfriend twitches and groans when you return to continue to suck on his pulsating cock, working him through his high and gulping down the rest of the cum that slowly spurts into your mouth. He becomes lightheaded while coming down, placing a hand on the slippery wall beside him in order to brace himself.

When you finish cleaning him up he helps you back up onto your feet, immediately going to wipe off the pearly beads of cum on your face with the assistance of water.

“Was it good?” you grin cheekily clearly content of your work, “Did I do good?”

“Are you kidding?” he laughs while pulling you in for a heated kiss, bits of cum still lingered on your lips and he eagerly swallowed it down, not missing the whimper you let go into his mouth, “Was fucking perfect, thank you.”

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