#reposting this one on its own because I want it to be seen

[brawlingdiscontent]

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[aislebewithshu]

love kitty

x gender neutral reader.

wc: 486

cw: yandere x yandere, stockholm syndrome, obsession, codependency themes, references of being caged, directly based on love cat and love kitty

author notes: hii i love biz's songs too much.. lowkey proud of my loveit? prompt so i made a love kitty one :3 happy reading ! not beta read, scroll if uncomfy <3

“i’m so happy to see you come home, your highness! welcome back, dear [name]~”

your beloved love cat who is always eager to wait for you to come home to your shared abode- offers you your ‘meow’ in exchange for the love he oh so craves from you. after all, this codependency you share, it's inescapable.

he was a bad, naughty kitty at first, seeking affection from others when you're right there for him! at least, he has learned his lesson right? he is now collared to you, anyway. sure he was a bit... confused at your actions at first? terrified? no one knows. he's a dear, fickle cat that doesn't know the true meaning of love, but that's alright, you're here to teach him.

“running off's fine, but back home's so scary”

he would avoid the moments that you give him your twisted love at first. it was suffocating, intoxicating. as if you both are playing a staring contest, so manic that both of you would lose to each other in this game of lamenting captivity.

third time’s the charm, that’s what they say. it’s like he is now hypnotized by you, you’re invading his mind and heart in no time! why won’t you go away? is it because he was trying to spend time with someone else? he knows you would not let him, crazed feline eyes with irises having a slit. putting a collar on him, you have branded him as yours.

he would try to fight you back at first, but he becomes more domesticated, as time goes on. he’s slowly falling for it all, consuming sin and punishment, whispering love to each other.

“even if you turn away, it's still alright. you are my very own "love cat", that's that.”

he has learned to love you unconditionally. your very own love cat, who is encaged with you for eternity.

"please love me, hey."

"i'm scared, can't step out of the cage anymore."

maybe he would also leave a mark on you as you left yours on his! let him have a bite, maybe? he's willing to bare his fangs. the more this goes on, the more twisted this love gets, and you are both hungry for it. he was insatiable when it comes to your affection, like a cat that is needy of its owner’s attention.

he cannot stand to live without you- he needs you too much to the point that his life now depends on you. like a clumsy love cat, he wants you so much, too much that it's getting ridiculous. you haven't seen any other guys worthy of being your 'pet cat', right? good, he gladly plays that role for you without hesitation, anyway. because if so, he won't hesitate to draw his claws out to eliminate them.

after all, both of you are in too deep in to the pit of hell that is called love.

enstars - kagehira mika, sakasaki natsume, sakuma ritsu, hakaze kaoru

twst - azul ashengrotto, idia shroud (? idk he has the vibes)

bllk - alexis ness, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser (HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE)

+ your faves.

©AISLEBEWITHSHU on tumblr. do not repost / feed to AI.

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down: IV

Photo credit to @thebluemage. Edit mine.

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Finally! Date Number Threeeeee!

This is a follow up to Part III

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is the final part! (For now) I think that this is one that I will definitely write in answer to asks. I just love these two so so much! Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run ���, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. SMUT!!!! The end of the Slow burn, now it's burning very fast 😅. Cursing, flirting, jealousy, apologies, Bucky cooking (a warning!), kissing, dry humping, dirty talk in both English and Romanian, voice kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected sex (yay Bucky!) And these two are so fucking fluffy. I'm scared, y'all. I want it to be good enough for the build up.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

As soon as he entered the Brownsville Arts and Culture Center, James Bucky Barnes was hot. Blood was rushing to his ears and he needed a drink. He wasn’t sick; his symptoms were all due to you.

The black dress that adorned your body contained all of his hopes and dreams, but you seemed to be flirting with another man, twirling for him and then giving him a hug. To add insult to injury, you had the nerve to laugh and smile with the punk. 

You in that black dress was everything in the world that Bucky could want, except maybe you out of that black dress. As his eyes traced down your form, he noticed the 5 inch red bottoms that you had on. Yes. You, out of that dress with just the red bottoms. That was what he needed in his life.

But first, he had to take care of that other man.

—-

“Benson’s work emphasizes the subjects’ spiritual essence over their physical appearance, don’t you think?”

You turned around at the sound of the deep baritone. 

“Well hello, Mr. Rogers. How are you today? Delivering an art analysis given to you by AI? Oh. I forgot. You are an ‘art dealer.’ An art dealer who goes to Soul Cycle in Brownsville all of a sudden?”

Steve clutched his heart.

“Ah. I’m hurt, Y/N. I thought we were cool. But I guess I deserved the air quotes.  I do actually love art. I took some art classes when I was a kid and I still love to sketch.”

“Hmmmph. Okay. I’ll give you that. But how is it that you popped up in my Soul Cycle class? Don’t play me, Steven.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at you and grinned. He understood why Buckiy was so drawn to you. Not only were you gorgeous, you were a spitfire. That was hot.

“I would never try to play you, Y/N. I also actually love Soul Cycle. Used to teach a class in Park Slope.”

“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?”

Steve’s eyes slid over you appraisingly.

“Speaking of. You look very, very nice today.”

You twirled for him, feeling as safe as you would your brother.

“Nice. Okay, listen. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just trying to protect my friend. And you.”

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve never seen Bucky like this. He’s never been this smitten with someone before and let them into his life. But I get it now.”

Steve’s blue eyes were almost as beautiful as Bucky’s.

“Bucky is my family. Since we were kids. He’s always taken care of me. And I will do anything for him.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I can see now that means that I will do anything for you, because I have a feeling that you’re gonna be around a lot. So do you forgive me?”

You considered Steve. He was not too different from his best friend, and you couldn’t hold a grudge. Not after Bucky laid it all out to you last night You opened your arms.

“Let’s hug it out.”

Steve chuckled and gathered you into his warm embrace. You pulled back and giggled, grinning at him.

“So what makes you think I’m gonna be hanging around?”

“Well, judging from the look on Bucky’s face, he’s serious about you.”

Steve nodded behind you, toward the door. You looked that way and saw James Bucky Barnes headed straight for you. 

And he didn’t look happy.

—--

“Good morning, Frumoasă. You look stunning today. The exhibit is amazing, the space looks great and it seems that the right people are in the building.”

Bucky came up and placed his hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you, ignoring Steve. His blue eyes were storm clouds at the moment, and his touch was electric.

“Thank you, James. You’re so observant, I appreciate that. And you look very handsome today.”

You looked him up and down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze and the way he kept eye contact as he inclined his head in response. 

Bucky was attractive as hell in his black on black shirt, blazer and slacks. You noticed that his collar was unbuttoned; the medallion hanging on his chest made you want to take it between your teeth. You stared at it for a moment, imagining such a scenario where that could happen and then met his eyes again, prompting desire to roll through you as Bucky licked his lips. He was right there with you.

You smiled at him in a way that you didn’t smile at Steve. Who was Steve Rogers, anyway? You could hardly remember meeting him as your mind went to the feel of being in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

You sensed an air of proprietariness as Bucky took your hand and kissed it, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Possessive Bucky Barnes felt like a sin you wanted to indulge in. You cleared your throat and looked at Steve, as if surprised to find him still standing there, watching the show.

“Well, I see some board members over there, I’m going to go do my job. Talk to you later, boys.”

You walked away and gave them a wink over your shoulder, and you caught both of them looking at your ass. You shook your head and chuckled as you went on your way.

“You trying to steal my girl?”

Everyone stopped when Steve laughed, his deep boom a distraction. Bucky still wasn’t amused.

“Oh. So you’re in love.”

“What?”

“You’ve never worried about me taking your leftovers or vice versa before. Hell, we’ve even shared–”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bucky snapped at Steve who put his hands up.

“Whoa, there. Just yanking your chain, buddy; I know she’s special. I wouldn’t dream of making a move on her. Not that she knows I’m alive. When you walked up, I thought I was going to have to take off my jacket so you two could fuck on the floor.”

Bucky was barely listening to Steve as his eyes followed you around the room. One thing Steve said was echoing in his mind: “So you’re in love.”

—-

You floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. The exhibit was a smashing success with the 

Board of Directors in attendance. Securing Howard Benson’s penultimate work from Rebirth was the feather in your cap. 

And you had Bucky to thank for it.

Bucky’s visit was also a hit; he and Steve charmed the board members with the help of Sam and Nat, who arrived later. They all made amends for what occurred that week and you were left very impressed with James Barnes.

After a couple of hours at the event, Bucky came over to let you know he was leaving.

“I will see you later, Frumoasă. I have much to prepare for tonight. Nico will pick you up at 7:30.”

“See you soon, James.”

He kissed your hand again.

“See you soon, Y/N.”

—---

“It is actually insanely attractive how you handled yourself in the kitchen.”

You were seated with Bucky on his couch in his living room, looking over the New York skyline from his Brooklyn penthouse. The dessert had been delicious and the wine in your hand was spectacular. 

“I was sure you’d order something in and just play it off. But I watched you create a meal in front of me, and I should have known that if you said you were going to cook, that you would do just that.”

Bucky’s heart beat double time at what you were saying. He wanted so much for tonight, but most of all, he wanted it to flow naturally. He saw that you were relaxed and open to him, which pleased him immensely.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Frumoasă. I enjoy cooking for my friends and family. Cooking for a beautiful woman is a treat.”

Bucky’s eyes slid over your form. You had changed to jeans and a color block sweater that just put your cleavage out there for the world, which was Bucky Barnes, to see. You also wore the same red bottoms from that day, and Bucky was beginning to think he had a foot fetish as you took them off at his entryway.

You took a sip of wine.

“How often do you do that? Cook for a woman?”

You barely hid your curiosity.

Bucky smiled and drained his glass, reaching over to refill it.

“Not as often as you’d think. Never had any other woman over here. Food is not usually the top priority with them.”

You pouted, which was so cute. Your spark of jealousy inspired Bucky.

“But I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Tonight is about me and you.”

Any uncertainty that arose was quelled by his assertion. You grew warm, so you finished your wine and rose to go to the window. 

“This is the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen.”

“Absolutely agree.”

You looked behind you and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, hands spread out on the back of it, checking you out. You gave him one of your adorable smiles and he came to stand behind you, and took you in his arms. 

“I want you to know that you deserve everything, Y/N. To be cheered on and protected every day. And thoroughly ruined every night.”

You turned around and his hands went to your hips. It was the perfect moment.

“James?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Bucky’s eyes dilated, and he moved his hand to your cheek. He licked his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Ah, Frumoasă. I thought you’d never ask.”

His first movement was a subtle brush of your lips. He pulled back to assess the situation, and you didn’t know why, but that made your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You gasped as Bucky watched you hungrily. 

The air seemed to change around you, and you shivered. He lowered his head so his lips could meet yours again, and this time his mouth was gentle but demanding. You gasped at the spike of electricity that flared between you and Bucky took the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, scorching your lips and soul. With a low groan, he shifted your angle, bending you backward a little to kiss you deeper and ripping a moan from you as you melted against him. 

Good lord, could the man kiss. 

At that point, he was holding you up, one hand on your hip and one hand on the back of your head as you molded yourself against him. Bucky’s fingers dug into you, sure to leave bruises the next day. You relished the thought as you moaned into his mouth again, giving him the opportunity to continue destroying your soul. 

Bucky dragged his lips from yours reluctantly and stared at you, eyes almost black with desire. He brought his thumb up and wiped the moisture from your bottom lip. Motivated, you captured his digit, drawing it into the hot wetness of your mouth. He stared at you, mouth open, as you looked him straight in the eye and started sucking.

Bucky moaned as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, and walked you back to the couch. He extracted his finger, watching the show your lips put on as he pulled it out, leaving them in a delectable pout. 

“More,” Bucky demanded as he crouched down and took your head in both hands as he kissed you again. 

His hands wound up in your hair, tugging gently, then on your back, then your ass as you arched your back to fill his palms. Bucky picked you up, then deposited you on his lap as he sat down on the couch, and you felt how aroused he was. His thick length was where you needed him most.

“Fuck! That feels good.”

Bucky was watching you grind on him like it was the best show on earth. Then he looked up at you.

“Yes, yes it does.”

He leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his teeth, a preview of how rough he wanted to be with you. Then, he went in for another kiss. That continued for a good five minutes until he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, and down to your cleavage, which was practically in his face.

When his eyes met yours, you were entranced.

“You good? You want this to happen?”

You nodded and took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your breasts, squeezing yourself with his hands. You rolled your hips, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Like you said, James. More.”

You continued to grind on him, causing him to just gape at your body moving on his.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times…”

“Yes? Tell me about your dreams, Baby.”

His hands moved to find your nipples through the lace of your bra and the wool of your sweater. He found them in no time, and pinched them lightly, then more roughly when you moaned.

“Mmmmnnnn. So fucking hot.”

Bucky kissed you again and then pulled away as he stared you down and tortured you. 

“I dream about marking you up,” he kissed your neck under your chin, “to your clavicle,” a kiss there, “and all over this beautiful flesh until I get to your nipples.” 

He looked at you for any signs of discomfort as he slipped his hands under your sweater to find the thin lace there. He found your hard peaks again and started rolling them both in his fingers.

“Then I want to kiss and suck them until you come in my arms.”

“Holy god, Jamie….”

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the second pet name you called him and continued.

“Wake up so fucking hard every morning since I met you. Then, I daydream about how wet and tight you will be after I made you cum, and how good it would feel to… to give you my cock. Do y’like that idea, Frumoasă?”

“Y-yesssss!”

“O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă.”

You almost came right then.

“D-don’t know what you said, but yes to whatever you just suggested.”

Bucky pulled you to him, and then chuckled into your ear.

“It means that I want to make you cum over and over again on my cock.”

You were already making a mess in your jeans, but you knew he could feel you soaking them at the moment.

“Please. Give it to me?”

Bucky groaned and kissed you again, this time encircling your waist in his grip and pressing you down on his bulge. 

“You know I can’t deny you anything. Are you certain?”

“Yes, James. Please…”

He lifted you easily, kissing you as he walked you down the hall to his bedroom, depositing you on his bed. 

“Y’look so fucking good.”

He crawled toward you on the bed and settled between your thighs as you hitched your leg over his. You pressed your core against his bulge and it had you muttering.

“Too many clothes.”

Bucky leaned up and you were fumbling with his button and he with yours. You looked up and laughed. 

“Maybe faster the other way.”

“Agreed.”

You two made quick work of your own garments, flinging them around the room between frenzied kisses. The way your eyes widened when Bucky got naked made his chest swell. He wanted you to always look at him like that.

“Wow…,” you said as your eyes roamed his physique.

His cock seemed massive as it slapped him on the abs.

“Wow, indeed,” replied Bucky as he took you in hungrily.

Your white lace underwear looked amazing against your skin and against your cunt it served to make him hungry.

He moved toward you again, kissing up your leg until he got to the edge of your panties and nudged his nose there, making you squirm.

“Smell so good, look so good…”

Bucky kissed at the edge of your underwear,

“I just know you’re gonna taste good too..”

He moved to the center of you, placing a kiss over your lace-covered sodden slit. Then, he looked up at you and smirked before he leaned down and licked you over your panties. 

“Fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side and gazed at you there. 

Those blue eyes threatened to steal your soul as he gazed at you and confessed, “This is the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” and proceeded to lick a rude stripe up the center of you after he tore your panties away.

“Oh my god, James.”

You rolled your hips again and reached down to feel Bucky’s soft hair. He pulled your hips closer and his lips suckled you with more pressure, adding one finger, then two to stretch you out. 

“Gotta get you ready for me, my love.” 

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you moaned through Bucky thrusting his tongue inside you, then pulling back to focus on your clit.

“I c-can’t.. I–”

“Give me my cum, Frumoasă!”

You locked eyes with him as he buried his face in your cunt and shook against him as you came embarrassingly fast, pulling on his messed up curls.

“So fucking delicious. Taste.”

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply, and you responded by sucking your essence off of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking his cock, overjoyed and a little bit scared that your fingers didn’t meet around him as he unclasped your bra.

Bucky whimpered as your thumb came up and stroked his sensitive head, spreading his precum over the wide, mushroom cap.

“You’re so fucking huge, Bucky…”

Bucky pulled you toward him as he reached into his bedside drawer for a condom and a bottle.

“And you’re so wet, Furmoasa. We will make this work. Believe me…”

You continued to stroke and watched him as he brought the wrapper to his teeth and him tearing it open was about the hottest act of sexual protection you’d ever seen. Somehow, your mouth ended up sucking his tip as you watched his eyes roll back into his skull.

“That beautiful mouth…”

Bucky put his hand on your head as you tasted him experimentally, wondering if you’d ever be able to take it all. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke next.

“Don’t worry, I plan on us having a lot of practice with this later, but if you don’t let me put this condom on, I’m gonna cum all over your face, Frumoasă…”

You looked up at him and grinned as his cock jumped in your mouth, but you finally pulled off of him with a pop.

“I need to feel you around me when I cum love. S’all I’ve been dreaming of all week.”

Now his chest was heaving as he rolled the condom on, and he pushed you back onto the bed as his hand went to your core once again. You were even wetter than before and Bucky smiled at you, lining up and kissing you on the forehead as he began to breach your folds.

When he slid inside, your fingernails curled into his shoulders and your eyes grew wide. Bucky stopped, concentrating while his cock pumped, barely inside you.

“There is nothing. In the world. Like being inside your soft, wet, cunt.”

“Fuckkkkk!” 

You became even wetter and he slid fully inside you. There, Bucky waited for you to get adjusted around him.

“So fucking tight. And hot. Just like I knew you would be.”

“More, Jamie!”

Smiling, Bucky started moving and you gripped him as he stroked in and out.

“Please don’t stop. Harder!”

Bucky grabbed the headboard and gave you what you wanted. His other hand pulled your hair and his strokes became more intense.

“Wanted to last longer, but I can’t, Baby. So beautiful. Pussy made for me. Cuming soon, but later… O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă. I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

You orgasm whited out your vision and your throat burned as you screamed. Bucky roared, filling the condom with copious amounts of cum. Your cunt was milking him and he hoped it would hold. He stayed sunk into you as long as he could before he had to get up and rid himself of the prophylactic.

He was only in the en suite for a few minutes as you floated in and out of sleep, lust drunk and exhausted.

Bucky climbed back into bed and got both of you situated under the covers, whispering in your ear.

“Stay tonight.”

“Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Both of you chuckled, because you knew it was true. Bucky kissed your ear and waited for your breath to even out. When he thought you were asleep, he whispered again.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Frumoasă.”

“You are exactly who you need to be, James Barnes. Just keep moving forward. Tomorrow is another day to do that.”

After a few more minutes, you spoke again.

“Tomorrow will only be a week that we’ve known each other. Imagine that.” 

Bucky buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Guess I better wait until tomorrow to ask you to marry me.”

You laughed a sleepy laugh.

“You got jokes.”

“You know me, Frumoasă. A professional comedian.”

But somewhere in the dark of Bucky Barnes’ closet, a diamond found some light and sparkled.

——

The next morning is here ;)

Please, please! Let me know!

[azullumi]

premise — you know those beach arc in a 12-episode shoujo anime? make it with the ip3o !!

characters — aventurine, topaz, and ratio

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 0.6k words ; headcanons

note — just something quick which i wrote in the beach yesterday before my phone wanted to become a fish and dived into the ocean !! probably not that accurate to their character but hey i just wanted to have fun

AVENTURINE who will write your name in the sand, only to have it being washed away by the ocean’s wave the moment he shows it to you. The dejected look on his face as he watches his effort being flattened and smoothened into sand will just make you want to kiss him (he’s just so kissable no matter what he does).

AVENTURINE who will stay up all night listening to the waves and watching stars with you. He’ll set up a small tent for the both of you to stay in as you wait for the sun to set and the sky to cast its dark blanket to reveal the stars that are waiting to be seen. It’s such a pretty sight, something that you will forever engrave in your mind, but he’s there spending most of his time looking at you before the stars; he ended up missing the shooting star that passed by.

AVENTURINE who will collect pretty seashells with you. He’ll look out for them while he’s on his own and will choose the ones he thinks you’ll love—seemingly seeking your approval, he’ll show the shell to you with expectation drawn in each breath. He adores the look on your face when you get so excited over something small and simple.

TOPAZ who will build play in the sand and build sandcastles with you, along with Numby who’ll watch by the sidelines like a curious cat to their busy owner. You two, in collaboration, would either end up with the tallest and most majestic sandcastle ever made or the most horrendous piece ever seen by mankind—there’s no in between. Bonus points if it also gets washed away by the wave.

TOPAZ who will drag you anywhere and everything. She will take you to several and various locations whether it be a hidden spot with a nice view which she found while she was out walking (she’ll steal a kiss from you once knowing that there’s nobody around) or to areas that are bustling with activities that the both of you can participate in.

TOPAZ who’s probably the most active person you’ll see at the beach. One minute she’s playing volleyball, the next she’s out making kites fly, then the next you’ll see her, she’s setting up the bonfire for later night or either talking with the locals. Best believe that she’ll spend her evening just by your side, leaning against your form in silence as she tries to recover her energy—which would probably just lead to her falling asleep beside you.

DR. RATIO who will most likely spend his time sunbathing or staying away from the water—he wouldn’t want his book to get wet, would he? Although he brings his book during his baths, the ocean is quite unpredictable compared to the still waters of his bathtub. Sometimes, the tide would come in slow and gentle like a mother’s lullaby but it would be followed by a body-slapping wave that would drag you away from the shore.

DR. RATIO who will wake you up early just for the sunrise because he learned that the view would be a lovely sight—also, because he thinks you might like it. He’ll gently guide you through the sand as you force your eyes open, drowsiness still in your gaze and the way you slowly walk to not stumble in your steps; he’ll hold your hand the whole time and you’ll watch the sunrise with him in silence of the cold morning.

DR. RATIO who will look after you and watch you always. He wouldn’t let the opportunity to say something (scold you or tell you off) pass by, however. Most likely would pull something like, “You’re cold, aren’t you? If so, that’s your own problem.” then would proceed to place a jacket or towel over your shoulder.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[callmeagardengnome]

𐂐 table for two ‎𐂐 | LEE DONG-HYUCK

pairings ᝃᝓ server!haechan x hostess! fem!reader

genre ᝃᝓ restaurant au, romance, SLOWW BURNN lowkey angst but honestly its not that deep.

synopsis ᝃᝓ you joined the F&B industry for one reason only: paying off your college debts. romance and friends? not on your list. but unfortunately for you, the new cute annoying server at your restaurant has other plans.

w.c ᝃᝓ 5.8k

c.w ᝃᝓ hella smoking scenes in this story (its literally nct), an old ass guy harassing you. no smut but there is a detailed kissing scene sooo read at your own discretion.

author’s note: make sure to like and repost!

not proofread!

other fics

working as a hostess was never a part of your plan as a new college graduate. the endless shifts, the line of karens walking through the door, having to smile and do small talk with ‘guests’, everything about the job didn’t scream you. but with your student loans dangling above your head - you had no other choice.

the restaurant you worked at, 127 Bistro & Lounge, was a cozy establishment. the warm, rustic decor made it a popular spot for dates and family dinners.

your role as the hostess was simple - greet the customer, manage reservations and ensure that the dining area was running smoothly. it was a routine you were used to, even enjoying it at times.

but that was until haechan started working there.

he was a new server - cocky, annoying, and way too good looking to be working at restaurant.

from day one, haechan made it a mission to get under your skin. whether that meant teasing you when he passed by the hostess stand or flashing you an irritatingly charming smile whenever you caught him looking your way, he just seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

and today was no different. as the evening rush died down, you found yourself at the hostess stand, looking through the reservations for the next day. you didn’t notice haechan approaching you until he leaned over the stand, casting a shadow on your computer.

“you know..” haechan began, a smirk forming on his face. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile before.”

without looking up from your list, you replied, “i do smile, just not around you.”

“ouch,” he chuckled, a sound that’s becoming too familiar for your liking. “i’ll take it as a challenge.”

you finally looked up, meeting his eyes with a glare. his eyes were always sparkling with excitement, which was quite impressive since the both of you worked in the same industry.

haechan walked away with a wink and grin, finally leaving you alone. still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he kept bothering you so much.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

from the moment haechan started his server journey at 127 Bistro & Lounge, he found endless sources of entertainment. from the TV in the corner to talking to customers and the other servers, he managed to find things that made his shifts easier to get through. yet, nothing compared to annoying you.

you were the definition of professional - always composed, always reserved and most importantly, always resistant to his advances. this made it 100 times more fun for him to go up you.

“‘____’,” he sang out as he walked over to you, a wide grin playing on his lips. without waiting for a response, he leaned against the counter, invading your space like he’s done countless of times before.

“why do you always give mark the girl diners,” haechan sulked, looking at you with fake, sad eyes. “do you want me all to yourself?”

you sighed, keeping your eyes on the screen of your computer. “maybe it’s because mark actually focuses on his job instead of flirting with everyone around him.”

“well that’s not fun,” he said, drawing out the last part of his sentence. he moved closer to you, just enough for you to smell his cologne - the scent warm and annoyingly enticing.

“why are you making my love life difficult?” he whispered, dropping his voice down an octave as if he was sharing a secret.

you scoffed, looking up from the computer. “your nonexistent ‘love life’ is the last thing i’m interested in.”

his grin only widened, not taking your words seriously. “i don’t know.. are you sure you’re not keeping me single?”

“or maybe,” you shot back, stepping behind to create distance between the two of you. “you're single because this is the way you approach women.”

haechan chuckled, not breaking eye contact with you. “it doesn't hurt to have a little fun.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “your definition of ‘fun’ is coming over and talking to me every five minutes?”

“you keep track?” he tilted his head.

“very funny,” you rolled your eyes before moving your attention back to the computer screen. “if you spent as much time working as you do hanging out at my stand, you might get somewhere.”

haechan shrugged, unfazed by your comments. “why would i do that? watching you try to ignore me is the highlight of my shift.”

you gave him an unimpressed stare as he continued, “you’d miss me if i didn’t.”

the corners of your mouth betrayed you, showing the tiniest hint of a smile - and that was all he needed to keep pushing your buttons.

just as you were about to speak up, a group of diners entered the restaurant, forcing you to return to your job. with a sigh, you greeted and guided them to an empty table at the side. haechan lingered around you for a moment, watching you work before finally moving on to his own tasks - but not without throwing you a wink your way as he walked off.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

days turned into weeks and haechan soon became a regular part of your routine. you grew used to his teasing and cocky attitude. you wouldn’t call him a friend, but you couldn’t deny that he made your shifts more bearable. surprisingly, he had a talent of making his conversations more interesting than annoying.

and as much as you hated to admit it, he was getting good at it.

most of the time, he kept things light and somewhat professional. you indulged in his conversations just enough to keep you sane in the tiring job. after all, you were only here to work, earn money and get out. you had no plans to form an attachment to anyone - especially at your workplace.

and you could tell haechan had a similar mindset. even though he was constantly talking to people, whether it was you, other servers or customers, you noticed how he was always the first to leave the restaurant at the end of a shift, not waiting for anyone. it was like he switched off the moment his work was done, leaving his playful personality behind.

while it did make you wonder if the version of haechan you just saw was fake, you weren’t interested in finding out. you already had enough on your plate - trying to figure out haechan’s brain was not something you wanted to add to it.

however, something changed one night.

the restaurant had been a lot busier than usual and you were completely drained. all you wanted was a few minutes of peace before heading home to collapse on your bed.

you slipped out the back door, taking in the cool air. you sat cross-legged on the pavement, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. the first puff calmed you down as you watched the smoke swirl into the night sky.

haechan was exhausted too, stuffing his apron into his bag, eager to go home. he decided to go out the back door this time, not wanting to run into any other coworkers.

but as he opened the door, he saw you - slumped against the brick walls, a cigarette held loosely between your fingers. half of your hair was out of its ponytail and your shirt was completely untucked, the harsh glow of the street light bringing attention to the darkness under your eyes.

haechan froze for a moment. he had never seen you like this - vulnerable and out of your professional appearance you wore. there was something almost.. intimate about the scene, and for the first time, he felt guilty for all the times he annoyed you.

when you finally noticed him, you looked up with tired eyes. “do you need something?” you asked, coughing slightly to clear your throat.

he hesitated, unsure of what to say. “no- i was just about to leave..” he replied, feeling like he was intruding on something he wasn’t meant to see.

you nodded, looking down at the stone pavement as you took another puff. haechan found himself staying around longer than he expected, as if he was in a trance that he couldn’t get out of.

“uh-“ you broke the silence, looking at him confused. “you want one?” you took out a pack of cigarettes, waving it at him.

haechan’s body moved automatically. he put his bag down and sat next to you, accepting the cigarette. you lighted it for him and the both of you began to smoke in a comfortable silence.

for a while, the only sounds you could hear were the crackling tobacco and the faint chatter coming from the restaurant by loitering coworkers. it was strange being this close to each other - just you and him, without any teasing or bantering.

“you know, i really like this brand,” you said, twirling the cigarette in your fingers. “it tastes less cancer-y than the rest.”

haechan chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall. “what kind of description is that?”

you shrugged, bringing the cigarette to your lips. “hey, when you’ve lived as long as i have, you’ll start to see a difference.”

“what?” he raised an eyebrow, turning his body to you. “aren’t we the same age?”

“we are?” your eyes widened, genuinely surprised by what he just said. “i just assumed we weren’t because of that personality of yours.”

haechan clutched his chest with his hand, pretending to he offended. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you blew out a stream of smoke, shaking your head. “with how happy you are, it’s kind of hard to believe we’re dealing with the same adult problems.”

“sure,” his smirk turned into something softer, even thoughtful if you were going that far.

“…you talk a lot more outside of work,” he said after a few minutes.

“and you talk a lot less outside of work,” you flicked the ash from the tip of your cigarette, watching it fall to the ground.

haechan studied you, scanning your figure up and down. “i like it. you’re more relaxed- and kind of friendly.”

“kind of?” you repeated his words, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

he shrugged, “i’ll take what i can get.”

you shook your head, putting out your cigarette as pushed yourself off the ground. surprisingly, you felt a lot better than you did earlier, the heavy feeling in your eyelids slowly fading away.

haechan stood up with you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “…same time tomorrow-?”

“-don’t push it.”

he laughed, and you couldn’t help but notice how it didn’t annoy you as much as it used to. “worth a shot.”

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“dude- are you okay?” mark asked, waving his hand in front of haechan as they stood by the drink station.

haechan blinked, remembering where he was, not realising that he’s been wiping the same spot for the past five minutes.

ever since that night, something shifted. haechan started to see you.. differently. it wasn’t about annoying you anymore - there was something else, something that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“i’m fine…” haechan replied, not sounding convincing at all, even to himself.

mark raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “alright, if you say so. but you’ve been out of it the whole day.”

haechan brushed the comment off, moving his attention to the new table he had. he approached a table of girl diners, feeling less enthusiastic than he normally did.

“hey, can we get some recommendations?” one of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes as she flashed him a cheeky smile.

normally, he’d take the opportunity to flirt with them, maybe even ask for one of their phone numbers if he was interested. yet, he smiled politely instead and listed off a few popular dishes that he knew.

“thanks,” another girl added with a wink. “you’re really cute by the way.”

haechan nodded, giving a quick smile. “appreciate it,” before moving on to take their orders.

as he walked away, he realised that he didn’t really register the things they said, looking down at the scribbles on his notepad.

“not flirting today?” mark questioned, looking his friend’s quiet state.

“just focused on work,” haechan replied, his eyes drifting back to you at the hostess stand. you were busy with your tasks like always, and he wondered if you had noticed the change in his behaviour at all.

throughout the rest of his shift, haechan’s mind kept returning to that night, to the way you looked so different yet more real than ever. he didn’t want to admit it, but there was something attractive about that.

he found himself glancing at you more than usual, noticing how your hair fell slightly out of place or the way your fingers tapped on the stand rhythmically when you were talking to a customer - there was a something to you, a soft beauty that was easy to overlook if you weren’t paying attention.

but haechan was paying attention now, more than he ever did before.

he doesn’t remember the last time he packed his bag this quickly, but he dashed out of the restaurant, trying to leave all thoughts of the restaurant behind - only to be replaced by an image of you.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

of course, you noticed a change.

haechan’s visits to your hostess stand became less frequent, and his teasing comments were nonexistent.

at first, you didn’t think much if it - maybe he was finally focusing on his job, something you’ve been asking him to do for way longer than you should have. but as the days passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was.. off.

you’d catch him glancing in your direction every now and then, but when your eyes met, he’d quickly turn away and wipe a random counter nearby. it was strange to see him so distant. you thought about bringing it up to him, but every time you tried, something else required your attention.

the restaurant was busier than ever, especially during the holiday season - barely leaving you with moments to catch a breath, let alone talk to haechan.

a few days later, you were at the hostess stand, answering the phone and jotting down details into the computer when a man approached the stand.

he was older, probably in his sixties, and dressed in a suit that was a little too expensive for a place like your restaurant. you didn’t think much of it, greeting him with your usual, professional work voice.

“good evening, welcome to 127 Bistro & Lounge. how can i help you?”

the man’s eyes raked over you in a way that made your skin crawl. he then leaned in, his voice low and gruff. “i was hoping that you could help me with something other than a table,” he said, his breath reeking with alcohol.

you straightened your posture. “i’m afraid i can only help you with seating arrangements, sir. if you’ll follow me, i’ll show you to a table.”

instead of moving away, the man reached out and grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you closer to him. “come on, sweetheart, let’s skip the formalities.. why not you show me something else?”

you could hear your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to snatch your wrist away, only for his grip to tighten further. but before you could react, you heard a familiar voice.

“is there a problem here?”

haechan stepped up beside you, glaring at the man that made him stumble on his words.

“it’s none of your business, kid,” the man slurred, using his other hand to push haechan back. “we- we’re about to have some f- fun,” he hiccuped.

haechan stood in front of you, his hands shielding you from the old man. “i suggest you leave before the police come.”

the man snorted, not believing haechan’s words for a second. he tried to drag you towards him, before haechan grabbed his arm and threw it to the side, stopping him in his tracks. you stumbled back slightly, but haechan was ready to catch you, his hand placed securely on your back.

“i’m calling the cops,” haechan said, pulling out his phone. the man finally realised the situation he was in, muttering something under his breath as he tripped out of the restaurant.

as soon as he was gone, haechan turned to you, scanning your face for any injuries. “are you okay?”

you nodded, your heart still racing from what just happened. “i think so.. thanks for that.”

he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “don’t mention it.”

for a moment, the two of you stood in silence. you just realised that this was the first proper conversation with haechan you had in days, and it wasn’t about something light like how you were used to.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, concern written all over his face.

“i’m sure,” you answered, trying your best to sound confident. “thank you, really.”

he nodded, but his eyes still lingered on you, wanting to make sure you weren’t hurt. “if you need anything.. you know where to find me.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his offer. “same goes for you.”

haechan’s smile came back, patting you gently on the shoulder before turning away. but as he was went, something made you call out after him.

“smoke later?” the words came out of your mouth more like a statement than a question.

haechan paused, turning back to you, his iconic smirk returning, “i thought you’d never ask.”

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“are you okay?”

haechan looked up from his cigarette, blinking in surprise as he heard your question. “where is this coming from..?”

“come on,” you snorted. “you haven’t been yourself lately.. is something going on at home?”

he shook his head, taking a deep puff from the cigarette, exhaling it as if it would carry away all of his thoughts. “just trying to focus on work,” he replied, answering you like how he did with his other coworkers.

“i’m not stupid,” you scoffed, shifting closer to haechan. “i can tell when something’s wrong. you’ve barely annoyed me all week, which is a new record for you.”

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “didn’t realise you missed me that much.”

you rolled your eyes. “that’s not the point. i’m just asking because.. well, i don’t know- i’ve never seen you like this before.”

haechan’s eyes softened, putting out his cigarette on the ground. “…it’s nothing big, i’m just thinking about stuff.”

“stuff?” you repeated.

“yeah, stuff,” he said, avoiding eye contact with you, looking down at the pavement, drawing circles on it.

you tilted your head slightly - your curiosity getting to the better of you. you turned your body completely to face him, genuinely interested in what he would say. “want to share?”

“i-“ he looked up at you, searching your eyes. “it’s just that.. i used to see this job as a way to pass time, you know? but lately.. i guess i’ve been thinking about what i want.”

your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to actually tell you. “and what do you want?”

haechan hesitated, then shrugged. “i’m not sure yet, but i’ll let you know when i find out.”

you nodded, turning back to the street in front of you. the both of you listened to the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional car speeding by traffic lights that they were definitely not supposed to.

you played with your lighter, flicking the wheel and watched as the flame appeared after many tries. “thanks again for earlier by the way, you really saved my ass.”

“no problem, i just wish the guy got arrested, though.”

you widened your eyes as you readjusted your sitting position. “wait- you actually called the police? i thought that was just a scare tactic.”

“i mean- i was going to,” he replied, dusting specks of ash of off his pants. “who wouldn’t? the guy was weird and i wanted to help you… but unfortunately, i’m not built like a superhero.”

“what are you talking about?” you tilted your head, taking a closer look at him as you studied his figure, taking note of his biceps and arms. “you’re pretty toned.”

haechan’s cheeks flushed slightly as he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “thanks..”

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

from that day forward, haechan returned to his routine of going to your hostess stand every time he got the chance, spewing out random things that was on his mind.

you found yourself paying more attention to him during your shifts, noticing the little details about him - like the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you, or how he would always help the other servers even if he was busy. it wasn’t like he suddenly became less annoying, but you found his antics more.. endearing.

as the days grew colder, christmas decorations started to pop up around the restaurant. you hadn’t planned on getting anyone gifts this year - your student loans were enough of a financial burden - but your mind couldn’t stop drifting back to haechan and how he saved you. maybe it’s time to do something different.

you decided to approach mark during his break. “hey, what does haechan like?”

mark looked up from his phone, eyebrows raised. “why? are you planning on getting him a gift?”

“just curious.”

mark chuckled, “he’s really into video games. he’s been saving up for this one game for weeks, but he had to spend the money on other stuff.”

“do you know what it is?” you asked.

“yeah.. he’s been talking about it for a while,” mark replied, then paused, giving you a knowing look. “you’re going to get it for him, aren’t you?”

you shrugged, not wanting to admit that you already made your mind up. “maybe. it’s just a small thing.”

mark laughed and shook his head. “i don’t think he’ll see it that way. but hey, if you’re really going to do it, he’d really appreciate it.”

that night, you went home and checked your bank account. the number staring back at you wasn’t promising, but you knew you could make it work. you had been smart with your spending, and while the game would probably set you back a bit, it wouldn’t completely break you.

so you placed the order.

when christmas eve finally rolled around, the restaurant buzzed with holiday spirit. the staff exchanged gifts, and you already received a couple of things from your coworkers - a pair of cozy socks, some snacks and even a box of chocolates from your boss.

haechan didn’t mention anything about presents, so you decided to wait until the end of your shift to give it to him.

as the night died down and the last of the customers left, you grabbed your neatly wrapped package from your locker and made your way to where haechan was packing his bag.

“hey,” you walked over to him, catching his attention.

“yo-“ he looked up, surprised to see you holding something. “what’s that?”

you held out the gift, feeling your nerves bubble up in your chest. “just something small. merry christmas, haechan.”

haechan’s eyes widened as he took the package from your hands. he wasn’t expecting gifts from anyone, especially you. “you didn’t have to,” he said, but there was a hint of excitement in his voice.

“open it,” you insisted, watching him tear off the wrapping paper.

when he finally saw what was inside, his jaw dropped. “no way... how did you-“

“-mark mentioned you were saving up for it,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “so i figured.. why not?”

for at least a minute, haechan stared at the game, completely stunned. he then looked at you, his face softer than you’ve ever seen. “thank you,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. “seriously, this is… i don’t know what to say.”

you felt a warmth spread through you, a warmth that had nothing to do with the overwhelming amount of holiday lights that were surrounding you. “no problem, just make sure to enjoy it.”

as you were about to leave, haechan called out to you, “wait-“

you turned around, confused. but that was when you saw him reach into his own bag, pulling out a small box wrapped in gold paper.

“i actually got you something too,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “i noticed your lighter wasn’t working well, so uh- here.”

you took the box from him, feeling your heart beating a little faster than before. unwrapping it, you found a new, sleek lighter and a pack of your favourite cigarettes.

“i wasn’t sure on what to get you,” haechan spoke as he watched you inspecting the gift in awe, “but i remembered that those tasted less ‘cancer-y’.. so i decided to get them for you.”

“these are pretty hard to find..” you breathed out, running your fingers over the cardboard. “how did you get this?”

“i spent an embarrassing amount of time looking for them,” he fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt. “but it’s worth it.”

you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “you’re fuelling my addiction,” you joked.

“hey- you’re fuelling mine too,” he said, waving your present in his hand.

the two of you stood there, the moment truly setting in. you weren’t sure what came over you, but for the first time in a while, you felt genuinely happy. a smile slowly spread across your face, a real one this time.

haechan’s breath hitched, and he stared at you like he’s never seen you before. “you have a really pretty smile,” he said quietly, trying not to ruin the moment.

you felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks when you heard his words. “shut up,” you said softly, feeling a little shy.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“ugh, what’s the point of a new years party?” haechan groaned as he approached your stand. “it’s just awkwardly talking to people you meet at work.”

you typed in details into your computer, not bothering to look up at him. “i thought you liked people?”

“yeah, but this is different,” he said, moving closer to you. “i’m not in the mood for small talk.”

you glanced up at him, noticing how stressed haechan looked about going to the party. “i mean- it’s just a few hours. plus, free food and drinks, right?”

“you’re just there to get drunk,” haechan said, a grin forming on his lips.

“maybe,” you shrugged. “but it’s not a bad thing to spend time with everyone outside of work. you can even hang out with mark.”

haechan nodded slowly, straightening his posture. “…are you going?”

“yep,” you replied, popping the letter ‘p’ at the end of your sentence.

“cool,” he said, patting the edge of your stand. “then i’m going too.”

the night of the party finally arrived, your boss inviting all the staff to his apartment, fully decorated with lights and banners. you found yourself enjoying the festive atmosphere, the clinking of glasses and the laughter filling the room. haechan, however, seemed a little out of his element, but he hid his discomfort behind his usual self.

he went through many conversations, but his eyes kept returning to you. there was something different about seeing you here, dressed casually, your hair draping softly over your shoulders as you laughed at something one of your coworkers said. it was the first time he could actually take in how pretty - really pretty, you were, making his heart skip a beat.

it wasn’t just your appearance, it was the way you carried yourself, you seemed less serious and more.. real.

as the night went on, a playlist of softer, slower songs began to play in the background. you ended up on the couch, sipping your drink as haechan made his way over to you.

he could see the soft light of fairy lights twinkling in your eyes as he sat next to you. “having fun?” he asked.

“mhm, especially with this drink,” you nodded as you swirled your glass. you noticed that your lip gloss transferred, making you pull out your phone and check yourself out. “aw man, my makeup is all weird.”

“really?” he tilted his head as he looked at your face. “i don’t see any problems.”

“sure, but i still need to fix it,” you said, glancing around the apartment. “do you know where the bathroom is?”

haechan led you down the hallway, the noise from the party slowly fading away. he held the door for you, the creaking sound making you jump slightly. “you can go, i’ll wait out here.”

you raised an eyebrow as you stepped into the bathroom. “are you sure? i’m only touching up my makeup.. you can come in too, you know?”

haechan grinned, walking in with you. “whatever you say.”

the small space was softly lit, casting a warm glow on the tiled walls. you leaned against the sink, rummaging your bag for your eyeliner as haechan sat himself on the edge of the bathtub, watching you intently.

you reapplied your eyeliner with ease, the movements becoming second nature by now. “you’re really good at that,” haechan said, breaking the silence.

you glanced at him through the mirror, a small smile tugging on your lips. “thanks, i practice.”

next, you reached for your candy-flavoured lipgloss, applying it carefully. the gloss shimmered under the soft lighting, making your lips even more inviting than ever.

haechan looked at you through the mirror, his eyes not leaving your reflection as he muttered, “you look good.”

you paused, turning to him with your lip gloss in hand. in that moment, you let yourself really look at him too - his slightly messy hair, the way his shirt hugged his frame and how his dark, shiny eyes stared at you. you always knew that haechan was good-looking, but tonight there was something more, something that made it hard to look away.

“you look good too,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm slightly. you turned back to the mirror in embarrassment, capping up your lip gloss and setting it back into your bag, ignoring the flutter in your chest.

“…should we head back out?” you suggested.

haechan took in a deep breath, shaking his head. “i don’t know..”

you rubbed your lips together, spreading the gloss before asking, “wanna get out of here?”

“really?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide. “i thought you wanted to stay..?”

“nah, i don’t give a shit about anyone here,” you replied with a smirk. “and i know that you definitely want to leave.” you went over to the door and left with haechan following behind you eagerly.

the both of you slipped through the living room, reaching the front door. that was when you noticed a ‘TAKE ONE’ sign over a bouquet of flowers - a gift from your boss that was meant for each employee.

without thinking, you grabbed a few flowers, cradling them in your arms. haechan kept quiet, simply watching you with an amused smile.

“let’s go,” you said softly.

the both of you stepped out into the cool, late night air. you stepped over the puddles formed from a downpour earlier, even turning it into a game with haechan.

the distant sounds of new year’s celebration played in the background as the two of you roamed through the streets. haechan walked close to you, his arm brushing against yours, making your heart race.

it wasn’t long before fireworks set off loudly, marking the arrival of midnight. the both of you stopped in your tracks, turning to each other with a shocked face.

“happy new year,” he said, smiling softly.

you chuckled, “happy new year, haechan.” you could see the reflection of fireworks in his eyes as he moved closer to you. you opened your mouth to say something, but the words got caught in your throat.

before you could find them, he leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to your lips. “haechan?” you whispered out, the fireworks casting flashes of coloured light on his face.

“have you ever heard of a new years kiss?”

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as he stepped closer towards you.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, studying your face. “..well, i really want to kiss you,” he sighed, his eyes looking guilty. “but i know you don’t even like me like that-“

“-i do.”

haechan froze, the thumping in his chest becoming louder than the fireworks in the sky. “you do..?” he repeated, not believing what he just heard.

you nodded, feeling your heart race under his stare. “do you like me?” you tilted head, getting more nervous by the second.

haechan closed the distance between the two of you, “more than you can imagine.”

his lips crashed into yours, filled with pent-up emotions and words that were left unspoken. your hands made their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt as his hands cupped your face, holding you close.

the sweet taste of your lip gloss only added more fuel to the fire. the kiss deepened quickly, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer. the intensity of his grip shocked your for a moment, but you welcomed it, leaning into him.

you soon found your back hitting the wall of the nearest building - the impact making you gasp, dropping your bouquet of flowers into a puddle of water. you broke away for a second, “wait, my flowers-“

“-i’ll get you new ones tomorrow,” haechan’s words rushed out before your lips met again, more messy and desperate than before. his body pressed against yours, and you could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

“you’re amazing,” he murmured against your lips, sending shivers down your spine.

you could only nod, your words replaced by the overwhelming need to feel him again. in response, his hands held your sides, his touch almost possessive. your lips met again, with the smell of his cologne overwhelming your senses.

by the time you pulled back, the both of you were breathless, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths.

haechan looked at you with a soft smile, his gaze lingering on your face, trying to memorise every detail. “i didn’t expect to tonight to turn out like this,” he said. “but i’m glad it did.”

you brushed your fingers through his hair, just now realising how smooth it was. “me too,” you replied.

he gave you a grin. “i’ll make sure to get you new flowers,” he said, making you laugh softly. “i’ll get you better ones.”

“i don’t care about the flowers,” you chuckled, reaching for his hand. “i’d rather have you tonight.”

haechan’s smile widened, unable to stop himself from giving you peck on the cheek. “wanna head back to my place?”

any and all feedback appreciated <3

[peggyao3]

Night Crawler - Pt. 1

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader / can be read as OC

SUMMARY: Feyd-Rautha welcomes a nocturnal visitor in his chambers, who is plagued by the symptoms of her artificially induced condition.

WORD COUNT: 3,558

TAGS: 18+, smut, lactation kink 🍼‼️, pseudo pregnancy, breastfeeding (no baby involved only a big sexy egg man), she/her reader, AFAB reader, ambiguous relationship status, non-consenting drug use, dark undertones, implied violence, stockholm syndrome-ish, dubious consent, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Part 1 ↓, Part 2, Part 3

The nights on Giedi Prime are inky black, not midnight blue like on her home world. Inky black are also the sharp-edged pillars that frame the hallway. Jagged polymer giants that intersect the row of windows like alien artifacts. The view outside is not much better. Where one might expect palace gardens are only industrial plants that stretch past the horizon. They are the only source of light.

This corridor is solely occupied by the na-Baron. She has been here many times. But never alone. The corridor where she resides is not far away, yet the path seems to stretch on forever, the Harkonnen palace a hostile monster that pierces her marrow and bone with every barefooted step on cold, black tiles.

She hates this so much. Tonight will be her personal disgrace. That she goes to him willingly, and in the middle of the night no less, is a first.

Though willingly is a farfetched word. No servant has reacted to her request for some pain relief remedy, mumbled then shouted into the transmitter panel in the wall of her chamber. It could be because she had uttered a wrong word in the afternoon or he didn’t like the way she held her fork and knife at dinner. It is hard to tell with Feyd-Rautha.

What is also not under her influence is the chemical cocktail in her veins that tricks her body into believing something has taken root in her womb. The symptoms are manifold, but what torments her most is how her breasts have grown bigger and heavier with milk that no one drinks.

At first glance one might think the fine lines that frame her enlarged breasts are stretch marks, but many of them are scars, placed by an enraptured Feyd-Rautha who loves to lap up the crimson beads, from base to peak. Sometimes his mouth and teeth ghost over her pert nipples.

The na-Baron seems to find sick enjoyment in her condition, fantasizing about the idea without the commitment. It is still better than being forced to carry the his real spawn.

The corridor ends in a dead end and she raises her hand, knocks on the door with cold knuckles. “My Lord?” Her warm breath is a ghost swallowed by the hallway.

There is no sound to be heard, nothing moves aside from the rise and fall of her ribcage. She swallows her pride and knocks again.

A mechanism whirrs and the door slides open. Out comes Feyd with a knife. That much was to be expected, but she still gasps when the icy edge of the blade finds her throat. The na-Baron’s frown dissolves into surprise when he recognizes her. Her throat is one of the few he wouldn’t slit right away for disturbing him.

“Feyd-!” She gasps and flinches away from the blade. Its tip tickles her jaws.

He was asleep, she realizes and is somehow surprised. The slight touch of puffiness around sharp eyes gives him away. She has never seen him sleep and she believes no one has, except for his own mother perhaps, who is now dead by matricide. This pinch of vulnerability on Feyd-Rautha’s face makes her heart stutter, as she hadn’t expected to wrest a triumph from this wretched night.

“What do you want, night crawler?" He sheathes the knife and drags the tip of a finger down her throat instead, to her collarbones, making a shiver roll down her spine. She prefers the knife.

“I am hurting, my Lord.” She stares straight ahead at Feyd's throat while gesturing at her breasts, avoiding his face. Tonight she can't stand to see the sickly joy that lights up his eyes whenever she's in pain. “They are… Too full, or so it feels.” Her bosom sits heavily in the snug night gown, warm and aching.

“Oh. Do they hurt badly?” Feyd wants to hear a yes. Fatigue and ire about being woken are gone now and he stares at her cleavage. The scars he made stare back at him.

“Would I come to you if they weren’t?” She spits. Feyd-Rautha smiles eerily and in the black of the night, his maws look like they possess no teeth.

“Come inside then.” He steps aside, clearing the passage into his chambers. The hairs in the nape of her neck prickle.

“Actually… “ She takes a step back. Even the alien pillars at her back emit more warmth than Feyd's den. “I only need you to call a servant for me. My panel seems to be broken. I’m sorry to have woken you, but I can get no rest like this. And I would…” She cringes. “I would like to be well-rested for whatever my Lord has in store for me tomorrow.” There is always something.

“Is that so?” Something about his voice reminds her of stepping on wet gravel. “You already woke me. No need to wake a servant now.” A hint of a smile creeps over his visage, a threat in one eye, glee in the other as he holds out his hand.

She chooses not to take it, so she can retain some dignity while entering his bed chambers. The door whirrs shut at her back and she knows she won’t be able to exit until he places his hand on a hidden panel. Slowly she walks into the center of the bleak room, walls made of polished stone, steps in the back leading down to a basin that is sunken into the floor. A double bed is at the right hand side and the ruffled sheets are the only sign that something lives in this room.

Feyd-Rautha moves like a beast of the night. She feels his breath on her neck before she hears his footsteps. Wiry arms circle her from behind and pull her against his chest. He is the warmest thing in the room, but as long as she isn’t freezing to death she prefers not to throw herself into an embrace that can warm her one second and scorch her the next. He kisses her neck and softly slides the straps of her nightgown down her shoulders.

Assuming Feyd’s intentions are as they most often are, she shuffles away and pulls the straps back up, trying to sound stern. “F-Feyd-Rautha, I don't know what you think you can do about my predicament, but I-” 

“Sit on the bed with me.” His voice cuts the air like a Fremen crysknife. He is going to cut her breasts open to drain the milk, she thinks when she sits on Feyd's bed. The sheets are still warm.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him approaching and notices the wrinkles in his sleep shirt. Such everyday imperfections look bizarre on a man so atrocious. His bare feet pat on the tiles now and fabric rustles when he climbs on the bed. He sits and leans against the sleek headboard, a single pillow in his back and waits.

“Come.” Reluctantly she turns, gathers her nightgown skirt and scoots closer towards him. Too slow for his liking. His pale fingers brush against her throat. “Why aren’t you wearing your collar?”

“I don’t wear it to sleep!” She spits. “You’d know that if you ever-” Slept with me. Cold sweat breaks out under her armpits.

Feyd’s head tilts to the side, disgusting curiosity in his eyes. He pulls her in his lap, thighs on either side of his hips and then pulls down her night gown with one harsh tug so her right breast pops free. Even the soft scrape of fabric over her nipple makes her whimper and she hisses at him to be gentle.

Seated in his lap, her chest is roughly at Feyd’s face level. At first, she thinks he is only going to ogle the plump shape of her, taking sick pleasure in her visible pain as a reimbursement for disturbing him at night. But then his mouth starts ghosting over her and a trail of nips and feathery kisses leads him to the apex of her breast. One hand curls under the taut flesh and lifts it carefully.

Oh. Now she understands.

How grotesque. How humiliating. She should have expected nothing less.

With horror she watches his plush lips close around the nub. Dark eyes lift to scrutinize her face and when she utters no complaints (although God knows they’re clawing at her throat, they just can’t make it past the lump inside), Feyd closes his eyes.

Her face is scrunched, nails digging into Feyd's shoulders when he creates suction, hesitant at first but greedier as soon as the first drop of white milk decorates his black tongue. She cringes, thighs flexing around his which encourages him to cling to her hip with his free hand.

The sensation repels her at first, alien and encroaching, as if a parasite was latched onto her teat. She has never nursed anyone before. It takes her fear-conditioned mind several moments to realize no harm comes from Feyd’s mouth this time. He only suckles on her breast and his cock twitches against her core, which she ignores. In the chamber’s nocturnal silence, she hears him quietly gulp and with each moment, the torturous pressure in her breast abates. A tear almost slips down her cheek, that’s how thankful she is, even if Feyd-Rautha only helps her for his own pleasure.

Minutes pass and she almost grows used to the sensation, the pressure of his tongue against the underside of her nipple and the occasional scrape of teeth. The tender flesh however is starting to ache, not used to such a long assault of his mouth.

“That's e-enough, it h-hurts now.” 

Feyd growls and his hairless brows twitch over closed eyes. He squeezes her breast, mouth latched over her nipple. Greedily, he suckles, ignoring her wincing. Shivering, she realizes that trying to take away his toy from him will always spark ire, so she gently scrapes her nails over his scalp instead until his ravenous mouth relaxes and strangely, she relaxes too.

“You can have the other one instead, okay?”

That works. His mouth slides over to her left breast, tongue swirling around the nipple before his lips close around it. He suckles more gently now and the relief makes her moan this time, spine arching against his face as milk flows into his mouth.

“Thank you, this is… So good. “

Feyd's hand still cups her right breast, as if scared she or anyone would steal it from him if left unattended. A bead of milk still clings to the nipple. With a spark of hope she wonders if Feyd-Rautha would ever be willing to share her breasts with an heir. 

No, she sees him throttling his own spawn, just so he can have everything for himself.

In the dead of night, a sly little smile tugs on her mouth and she encouragingly wraps her arms around Feyd's neck, hugging him close. Willingly, he sinks into her chest, drinking with abandon. “Keep drinking,” she hums.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron, the gladiator, is temporarily docile at her bosom.

The silent victory makes heat grow in her belly as pressure is released from her breasts. She shuffles against his lap and the hardness that rests against his belly. Feyd's hand squeezes her hip, nudging her closer. While he drinks, the other pale hand lightly fondles her right breast, catching the drop of milk with an unusually gentle index finger.

Her spine arches and her hips curl against his pelvis, head and hair falling backwards. The cool of the chamber is now pleasant on her heated skin.

“Feyd, please…” A quiet sigh, nearly swallowed by the midnight hour. Her core curiously grinds against his length.

He seems to know better what she pleads for than she does. The hand on her hip sifts through the layers of silky gown to get to where he needs, finding her flesh unobscured by undergarments. Slick essence coats her gown where she had sat and Feyd’s hand stutters when his knuckles brush through the wetness on the silk.

Instantly, her cunt bucks against his fingers and Feyd's eyes snap wide open. His digits glide through her folds, stunned to find them so wet and hot. Her entrance weeps and yields so easily when he prods lightly with two fingers. 

“Don't say anything, just-” She shakes her head, realizing Feyd hasn’t said anything at all since he discovered the milk from her breasts for himself. Fascinated, he gazes up at her from coal-black eyes, pouty lips puckered around her nipple still when two calloused fingers sink into her cunt. Languidly, he thrusts, finding her walls willing and soft to the touch. She meets each thrust, sighing as she brings her hips up and down.

Looking down at Feyd’s pale skull latched to her breast, she also looks at the scars that paint them. They taunt her now.

‘Does he make you wet now?’ They seem to ask. ‘Has he finally cut you into submission, into the shape he wants?’ 

She doesn't feel overly submissive right now, however. The pace of her hips quickens, as does that of his fingers. Her nails dig into his scalp when a third finger eases into her cunt without her request. The stretch makes her moan and her hips needily rut against Feyd’s hand.

Even if she is not truly in power, she can at least pretend she is.

“Take yourself out of your pants!” 

Determinedly, she sits up straight and leans back, breasts feeling almost light now, compared to before. Her nipple slips out of Feyd’s mouth and he gives it a parting gift, sharp teeth nipping at the tender bud. Probably the punishment for her bold tone. Still, she grows nearly euphoric when he does as she says, sliding his trousers down to his mid thighs, so his daunting cock comes to rest against his navel. It doesn’t daunt her today.

She shuffles and pulls the silky layers of her nightgown away, so her pelvis can rest on the smooth, milky expanse of Feyd’s hairless thighs. His balls rest hotly against her weeping cunt until she raises her hips and kneels, grabbing Feyd’s cock to line him up with her entrance. The size of him makes the angle awkward and she has to lean forward to try and shuffle the thick head between her folds, one hand wrapped around the shaft.

“You can ask for help, you know.” Feyd chuckles, fingers gliding over her thighs under the gown. She hisses and resists the urge to tell him to shut his mouth, lest he ruins the night. It had been so nice without the talk of his foul tongue. Finally, she has him angled like she needs him and her entrance yields for his head.

Feyd knows she struggles to take him, despite the preparation. Her soft cunt stretches around his obscene length and she tries to be strong, play it tough, so her whines can’t give away the challenge it still is for her to be a fitting sheathe for his cock. Amused, he watches her toil away in his lap, slowly sinking down, then hissing and jerking back up. He gives her the time she needs, curiously watching her face shift into triumph when their pelvises come flush.

Up and down she goes, sighing and moaning and her grimace slowly relaxes as she grows accustomed to his cock. Feyd-Rautha sinks into his pillow, sliding down the headboard as his figure becomes more and more horizontal. Her breasts are out of reach now, but he still marvels at the marks and puffiness left by his mouth. His jaws flex. He already misses the taste of her milk. Tomorrow he will instruct the authorized doctors to tweak the formula of her injections, so she will produce more.

Unbeknownst of his thoughts but well aware of his wolfish gaze on her tits, she rides him as she pleases, hands pushing up his sleepshirt so she can grope his pale torso, leaving angry red marks on his belly and on the small dent between his pectorals.

Her shoulders roll forward and her thighs hurt a little from lifting herself so repeatedly, but she tirelessly grinds against his pelvis, chasing the pleasure sparked by power that kindles in her belly before it’ll inevitably go out by something he says or does. If he had pubic hair, perhaps it would be easier to get some friction against her clit. She is missing that extra stimulation to quite push herself over the edge.

Feyd’s hands on her hips have been docile, but the moment she falters, he strikes. Her weak knees buckle when his thumb finds her clit and her wrists are gathered in his other hand.

“I… No!” She stubbornly pleads, the figment of control wrenched out of her grasp. Not even by his hands that overtake her body, but by the mean midnight-smile that decorates his face.

“That’s alright,” he coos sweetly. No one likes gravel mixed with honey.

Hot tears gather in her eyes when she fights weakly against his grasp but still moans from the pressure of his cock. She wants to tell him that nothing is alright. It’s not alright that she can’t even fuck herself to completion without his help. It’s not alright that her legs give out because of the medication he’s put her on to induce false pregnancy. It’s not alright that her tits hurt and she gets sick in the mornings and It’s definitely not alright that he’s taking her little victory away from her.

She is close to tears but doesn’t start crying. Feyd’s hips dictate the rhythm, driving up into her cunt so she no longer rides him, she only helplessly sits as he fucks her. And to her dismay, it feels better. He just does it better.

The pressure of his thumb on her clit is just right, as are the short, hard thrusts against her cervix.

This whole night still counts as a victory, she reminds herself as her head falls back and a climax rolls through her body, walls fluttering around her tormentor’s cock while he pours sweet, gravelly honey in her ears. It’s the softest he’s ever been with her. 

Feyd prolongs her climax, drawing tight little circles on her clit so her walls keep milking him until he has spilled his seed harmlessly against the entrance to her womb. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest and then the chamber falls silent. 

His cock twitches and relaxes against her walls while his thumb still lazily plays with her clit. Uneasily, she shifts in his lap and her squirming draws wet noises from their conjoined pelvises.

“Stop smiling,” she demands.

“I can't.” If only his smile was prettier. Feyd releases her wrists and his thumb abandons her overstimulated clit and ghosts over her abdomen, the bunched gown, her plump breasts. A flutter of warmth follows his trace as he presses into the dip between her clavicles and then brushes over her throat, perhaps still mourning the absence of her collar. 

“I… I need to go to the bathroom.”

Abruptly, Feyd sits up and swings his legs over the edge, catching her before she can fall backwards off his lap. He turns his head and nips at the hand that had instinctively latched onto his shoulder. “Don't be long.”

She denies him the satisfaction of seeing her sway and buckle when she slips off his cock. It smacks against his abdomen and black seed sullies his pale stomach and shirt. Feyd doesn't mind, but if she insists on getting cleaned up, she shall.

For a moment she fears he will follow her, just to make sure she doesn't flush herself down the drain to escape him, but he remains docilely on the bed. 

She just barely makes it to the bathroom before the thick rivulet of cum that rolls down her leg reaches the ankle and stains the floor. Awkwardly, she cleans herself with cold water from the sink and paper towels, then hovers over the toilet and waits until most of Feyd's release has exited her body. Some of it still stubbornly clings to her womb, she's certain. 

For a moment, she regards her reflection in the mirror, little more than a shadow in the dark of night, but even now she sees the shape of her hard nipples under the silk. She feels obliged to clean the cum stain on the floor, even though that's a task for the maids.

Once she comes back out, she almost expects a knife against her throat - foreplay for what Feyd-Rautha might consider the real fun, but the na-Baron's breath chimes calmly and steadily  from the  bed. Could it be? 

Almost as silent as a beast of the night, she slinks to the door, knowing it probably won't budge for her but it's worth a try.

“Where are you going, night crawler? Come here.” 

He lifts the covers and wordlessly she resigns and climbs underneath, like a bird into an alligator’s open maws, hoping she will be useful long enough and her wings not broken when the maws snap shut.

Feyd-Rautha sleeps on her bosom that night and she cries for a good minute while caressing his scalp. Why does every triumph, no matter if big or small, always come at the cost of feeling dirty?

[If you enjoyed this fanfiction, a comment would mean the world to me! <33]

[freyito]

ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ! ⨟ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ in which: he celebrates halloween with you.

✧ a/n: i wanna do a nice little short series for a select few characters for halloween... basically the idea is . trick is the silly and annoying things they'd do on halloween and treat is the stupidly sweet and sappy things theyd do on halloween. no promise on which characters will be a part of this series! it could range from twisted wonderland to elden ring el oh el

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

→ trick or treat masterlist

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :P, DAD BOOTHILL!!!, not proofread

✎ wc: 610

Trick

Boothill is a little shit during Halloween. If he’s able to settle down with you, you’re in for a lot of stupid scares. If you’re afraid of horror but still in the mood for some scary movies, he’s making sure you’ve got nothing to hold on to aside from him. He’s poking at your sides, trying to make you take your hands away from your eyes or look at the screen when a particularly scary scene plays. Ain’t no fun in watchin’ it alone!

He’ll find a way to drag you off to some sort of haunted house, or festival with scare actors. He’s seen so much, a few actors jumping out at him and screaming doesn’t get to him. But if it makes you flinch, even a little bit, you’re subjected to such torture. He laughs whenever you jump or swear or cover your mouth, and it makes you want to punch him in the gut right then and there. Don’t think about trying to wiggle your way out of it, he acts all sad and defeated if you don’t go out with him.

At home, he is equally annoying. Hiding around corners, staring at you from said corners until you notice, cackling when you scream, and many more. One time you woke up to him standing over you, his eye emitting an eerie red hue. Though, you still don’t know if it was because he was charging, or if he was actually messing with you.

Treat

With all that being said… if you were to scold him for all he’s done, he’s genuinely remorseful. Boothill sulks a little, but his apology is genuine. He does all the chores he can before he sets off, even takes you out to a nice dinner before Halloween, maybe a couple of drinks (but those are mainly for him). The unfortunate thing is it happens every year, but the pay off (the pampering) is just wonderful.

On Halloween night, he’s absolutely jubilant. He can’t sit still for a minute. He’s practically waiting at the door like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. He’s practically begging you for him to be the one to pass out candy to the kids. He just adores them dressed up in their little costumes, it’s like he’s a whole new man when he closes the door. All mushy over the little pirate who took one too many pieces of candy, or the princess who did a little bow before she left.

If you two have kids, he’s dressing up with them, no questions asked. Even if he ends up as a tree or a trash bag, he could care less. He loves it. He makes you take a couple photos with your phone, then like a thousand more on an old polaroid camera, so he can at least keep one with him. He also makes sure to hit all the houses. Twice. Doesn’t matter if the people at the door recognize them, Boothill’s got a way of persuasion none can beat. If he knows there’s any house giving out full-sized candy bars, he’s probably raided the bowl. He’ll leave some extra for other kids of course (while he adores his own, he’s not cruel), but his kiddos deserve the best, so they’re getting the best.

Even though exhaustion is non-existent to him now, by the end of the night, he’s all tuckered out. Crashed on the couch with your kids, a few stray wrappers he forgot to pick up before ushering the kids off to bed. Trick or treating is hard work, you know! Don’t be mad when he’s tired, he worked his behind off!

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[ihatedtoadmit]

Art study

pairing: Bang Chan x gn! reader

genre: ...suggestive

warnings: nothing actually happens, so none besides teasing

word count: ~1.3k

summary: You're doing an art study on muscles, and who's a better candidate for reference than your wonderful boyfriend who keeps feeding his delulu fanbase with half-naked pictures?

a/n: Well well well, Nat, you don't have to pay to see me write something like this after all (if you will ever see this, because no chance am I tagging you or anyone, dear). Here, have fun, this is the most spice anyone can get out of my asexual ass.

↳ Main Masterlist

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

You were a very reserved person, something your partner knew all too well. Every touch the two of you shared throughout the entirety of your relationship had no heat behind it, each one only fueled by pure adoration and love. Never once did a kiss turn hungry, hell, there had barely been any kisses the two of you had shared due to your lack of need for the action. Chan knew it all too well, and while he craved more, he also respected it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you uncomfortable, and so he’d never stepped over that line.

That was the exact reason for his current shyness, the confusion that wanted to sit onto his face hard to mask. There he stood in your doorway, the desk before your hunched form cluttered with pencils and little crumbs of dirty erasers. You were entirely too focused on the task at hand to notice your boyfriend's presence, the song that flowed through your headphones much too loud to hear any footsteps or even words. And so you continued drawing, clueless about anything as your lover watched you work, eyes flitting between your sketch and the endless reference pictures on your screen.

Pictures about him, his back fully on display and unclothed.

A touch broke you out of your concentration as you erased a line for the fourth time, scaring you into throwing away the pencil in your clutches just so you could tear the headphones off your head.

“Interesting art you have there, love.” - Chan mused, yet his skin was as flushed as ever.

You joined him as you could feel your own skin heating up, ashamed that you’d been caught like this. Eyes looked at everything besides your boyfriend, yet you found comfort in that warm touch of his.

“I was just… doing a study, on muscles.” - the words were but a mere whisper, hand quickly reaching to minimise your browser and just hide it from a certain pair of prying eyes.

Still, there was a feeling clawing at the cage of your soul, ripping at the flesh to be let out and rampage freely. It was feral and vicious, planting a thought into your head that seemed impossible to get out, no matter how alien it felt. You could feel your breath hitch at the image that popped into your head, memories of the images you had been staring at for a while now overlapping.

The hand on your shoulder gently squeezed, breaking you out of your derailing thoughts.

“I don't mind, baby, it just… caught me off guard? Glad you enjoyed my performances though.” - Chan’s voice was light, mixing well with the shyness he was trying to hide.

It only urged that fierceness inside to break free, granting you a surge of confidence you would have never had otherwise.

Without any words you finally glanced up at the man you loved, finding him utterly handsome; you would hone your artistic skills for the rest of your life just to capture a fragment of that beauty. His skin was dusted with a faint red, ears painted by the deepest of shades. Those eyes you loved to get lost in were alight with an emotion you had seen them only hold whenever he looked at the boys, and it took your breath away within a heartbeat.

Your body moved on its own, towering over him as you now stood. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he must have just taken, and you just knew he had been originally on his way to his room to swap his bathrobe for those comfy, black clothes he loved to don in his free time.

He searched your gaze, unsure, yet trusting. His hands comfortably placed themselves onto your hips; their touch was warm, the man before you always running hot. It was something you loved as he balanced out your always cold hands wonderfully, reaching the perfect temperature you both enjoyed.

“Hey, love. How was work today?” - you asked, leaning closer than usual as you swiped those dark curls out of Chan’s face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing for a second as he thought about his answer.

“The usual, although Hyunjin managed to piss off Minho again. It was a shoe this time that was the weapon, by the way.” - there was an airiness of joy to his words, yet no laugh accompanied it.

No, Chan was entirely too enamoured with the look you were giving him, as if you were worshipping him with your eyes alone. And maybe you were. With each look you studied the way your lover's skin moved, the shadows conforming accordingly. It lured you in, as if Chan was the siren and you were his prey, fated to be drowned in the vast oceans and seas.

He didn't move as you took him all in, hands eventually unable to keep themselves away. Your fingers were cold against the warmth of his fair skin, and you could hear his breath hitch, the muscles inside his neck moving beautifully.

There was something different in your touch, that much he knew, yet he wouldn't have it any other way.

As if you had never seen anything like it before, your hands glided over any free expanse of skin you could reach, memorising how the muscles hidden beneath curved and jumped at your touch. Never once did your eyes stray, wanting to remember every little detail. You wanted your art to be perfect, after all, to represent the real thing as closely as possible and that meant every little detail in their complete glory.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the white robe blocked you off, and so you slightly slid it off from one of Chan's shoulders. His hold on you tightened and you glanced at him briefly, seeing an intensity burning in those dark eyes, one you had never seen before.

You were playing with fire, and you could feel the heat of the danger.

Despite the clear wanting signs, you ignored them much like Icarus, hands now gliding down your lover's arm. Each touch held meaning, praising him in silence, singing odes about this man’s beauty. There was something so intriguing about watching the muscles connect to skin and bone, oh so perfectly toned and reacting to every touch of yours.

You stepped even closer, breaths mingling together as you reached into his robe, mapping out the vast skin of your partner's back. Every dip, every rise and imperfection was noted inside your head, the scorching star in Chan's eyes only growing in intensity as time passed. Your eyes flitted between those deadly stars and his neck, seeing it strain, muscles so tight that they jumped out of the skin in that lovely V-shape you could never grow bored of.

Then, as if something snapped, he gripped your waist with incredible force, not giving you a chance to escape. Despite that, no fear took residence inside you, your now warm fingers still laid peacefully on his shoulders.

“And what do I owe this extremely special moment to, baby?” - his words were a deep rumble, eyes begging for an answer with desperation.

“For being the most beautiful human to grace this planet, my wonderful love. Be my muse, please. Let me draw you, let me study you.” - you answered, one hand now cupping Chan's cheek tenderly, despite the uniquely heated situation.

As if that was the magic word to undo his binding, your lover moved, hauling your taller form easily onto the bed with him. There you were now, sat on his lap as he looked up at you expectantly, the intensity and love never diminishing in those bright eyes of his. Your sketchbook was still sitting beside you on the bed where you had originally thrown it at, hands itching to take it and immortalise what you had engraved into your mind in the past few minutes.

“I'll be your muse whenever, baby. All you needed to do was ask.”

[lennadanvers]

Three times Simon wanted to hug you (and the one time he did)

I wrote this for ao3 originally. I'm working on the final part, so I thought I'd start reposting here in the meantime. I hope someone likes it. I feed on comments btw. Just leaving that there.

Ghost’d had missions go badly before… No, scratch that. He had been part of missions that had gone terribly. Some he had barely survived. A lot had failed. That just happens.

Still, he felt like shit.

He was familiar with the feeling. He didn’t understand it, though. Everyone in his team had made it out alive. Even more than that, there had been only a couple minor injuries. That was a luxury he had learned to appreciate. Yes, the target they were supposed to find and bring back to base was laying, dead, on the floor of the helicopter. It wasn’t an especially gruesome sight, either. One shot at the back, most of the blood was still wet on the floor of the enemy base. Ghost had seen people practically turned inside out; this was almost as pleasant at it could get.

He had been dragging the target. The target, because they didn’t have a name. They never did. It had been a person. A very well informed person, if he had to guess, based on the urgency to get them back. Now they were a corpse. They had made the transition in his arms. He hadn’t even realized the target had bled out until they were already flying back.

Price wasn’t going to be happy, but he knew how the job was. Casualties were expected. At least the target wasn’t in anybody else’s hands.

Ghost looked down at his own. His gloves were dirty. If he flexed his fingers, he’d feel the stickiness of the blood. He knew the feeling well enough to be certain that the burning of the cold water of the sink wouldn’t erase it.

The movement of the helicopter landing made him look up. He jumped over the body of the target and stepped out. The sun didn’t touch his skin, completely covered in military grade fabric. But he felt it nonetheless.

His eyes, used to scanning his surroundings, had found you standing at the edge of the helipad. You were right next to the medics, ready to help save the corpse he had dragged here. Suddenly, Ghost became aware of every little sore and tense spot in his body. He had always thought you were capable. Your hands were smaller than his, more delicate- everyone’s were- but still ruthless and unwavering. He took a deep breath and wondered how long it would take you to get rid of all the knots in his back.

Your neck looked pretty, too. No, not pretty. He almost shook his head. Inviting. Warm. Your blood was close to the surface there, but still hidden. Where it belonged. He tore his gloves off, struggling with the stickiness.

Ghost didn’t cry. It wasn’t a matter of pride, or toughness. He had simply forgotten how to. But he started to walk towards you and felt the heat flooding his throat. The closer he got, the smaller you looked and the more pathetic he felt. His boots dragged him across the cement; yours were steady, still. Clean. He was covered in dirt. Another step and he was almost at arms reach. His uniform was itchy. He hadn’t noticed that since he was a rookie. And his holsters were tight, Ghost made sure of that.

Would you hold him tighter?

Would you be warm? Warmer than the target? You’d feel alive.

You’d smell of your shampoo- he had grown used to its fragrance in the showers: it lingered and overpowered his unscented one, even if you had left hours ago. It reminded him of warm, cleansing water. Of the feeling of being bare.

He shook his head. The mask was getting uncomfortable. Your skin looked so soft, though. He blinked. Your collarbone against his lashes. The idea made him inhale deeply.

Another step and he was next to you. You smiled at him; not a big smile, rather a small, confused one. Ghost stared at you for a second, the tears stabbing his throat. All he could do, head ducking as if aiming to hide in your neck, was to shake his head.

Then another step and he kept walking to his barracks: back still tense, nose still burning with the smell of gunpowder, hands itching with dry blood.

Part 2

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ the secret's out ; tz11

➪ summary: pictures and text messages of her and her brother's best friend leak and she stays curled up in her room, not talking to anyone. so mason calls up her best friend and soon enough, trevor is on a plane to england

➪ warnings: things being leaked, crying, reader thinks her brothers hate her, crappy friends

➪ word count: 1.3k

➪ cupid's notes: red, white, and royal blue is 100% the inspiration to this fic and yes i did basically copy the phone call and speech but its just too cute to ignore. i literally am in love with this movie. part two will be out tomorrow i hope! this would’ve been out earlier but i took a nap (shocking i know)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Nothing was how it should be. They were supposed to be careful, they were careful. They were only seen together when it would make sense for them to be together; when he was in town for a game, when he was supposed to be hanging out with her brothers, or when he had a game against the Devils or the Canucks. And when they were seen together, they made sure everything was strictly platonic: no hand touches, stolen glances, nothing.

However, maybe they should’ve accounted for the fact that one, her friends were journalists, and two, her friends weren’t really her friends in the first place. They had a few classes together in college, back when she was still undecided, but despite that? They only found her interesting because of her last name and who shared it.

Somehow she was too predictable, her password was as basic as it got. It was the day Trevor asked her to be his girlfriend, they’re anniversary. It was the best day of both of their lives but now it was the root of all their problems. It wasn’t the biggest scandal on the dance floor, there were things much worse going on in the NHL and the world in general. No one would care about this besides the Zegras and the Hughes families and the girls who were too obsessed with hockey players and their relationships for their own good.

She was studying abroad in England this past year and she couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She had decided to extend her stay into the fall semester, not wanting to go back home. This sort of worked in her favor, she was 3,444 miles from Jack and Luke and 4,632 miles from Quinn. She was in a different time zone, country, and continent than them. All she had to do to avoid them was not answer her phone. 

She was good at that, blocking out social media and her phone as a whole. Growing up the sister of hockey players and her mom being who she was in the hockey world, she got used to the hate and backlash she got from not wanting to do hockey. Her phone was shut off and thrown into her desk drawer. Her friends tried to comfort her but were to no avail, she was too worried about what other people thought about it.

Not only had pictures of them been put out into the world but their text messages as well. However, she couldn’t remember a time she left her phone unattended. She hadn’t spoken to Trevor in two weeks, she hadn’t spoken to anybody besides her roommates in two weeks. She had seen a couple of articles and videos that were spreading, the one of Trevor’s interviews where he was addressing the situation was not only the biggest one but the most recent one. 

It was before the game, that the reporter had asked him about how everything in the media that was speculating had impacted him and his play. To which he responded with, “Y/n and I are together and have been since the beginning of the season. And whether people choose to support or hate it, isn’t my problem nor my business. We’re happy and hope everyone can support that decision and respect our privacy. I fell in love with a girl who happens to be related to my best friend. How is this affecting my mindset? I wouldn’t say it has, I’m still playling, and Greg still thinks I’m playing as best as I can and even better. I’m worried about her, that’s for sure. She hasn’t had the best track record with the media.”

He said a few more words, none of which mattered to y/n. She wasn’t sure if she cried more because of what he said or the situation. She curled up on the chair in the corner of the room, reading a book. Her friends looked at her sadly, they hated the fact that she had gone back to her reserved nature. 

Trevor on the other hand was acting like it wasn’t bothering him, he couldn’t hide himself from the media or anything really like she could. But, it was eating him alive. He didn’t know if she was okay or if something had happened or if she was ignoring him.  He was too desperate to know if he was okay so he attempted to reach out to all three of her brothers but he got nothing back in return.

It wasn’t until Mason walked into his room with his phone in hand, “I called her friend for you.”

Trevor looked at him with wide eyes, “What?”

“Thank me later.”

Her friend had been walking up the stairs to their apartment when she got the call from Mason, they had met when y/n and Trevor took them along on a trip to ensure that no rumors would start. She had practically run the rest of the way and bolted into the apartment. She walked over to y/n and handed her the phone.

She reached out for it and held it up to her ear, “Hello?”

“Baby!” 

Her voice stuck in her throat along with the sob that had been forming for a while. “Trevor? Oh my god, are you alright?”

“I’m hanging in there. Are you okay?”

She paused, “No. No, I’m not okay.”

“You know what, I’m coming to London tonight. Just hold on until I get there.”

“Hurry please.”

And just as he promised, 8 hours later he was standing in her apartment, opening his arms for her. She ran into them once she heard him call out and buried her head into his chest. Trevor sunk to the floor with her, his back pressed up against the wall, “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”

He could feel her body racked with sobs and he couldn’t help but start crying himself. He had torn himself apart these past two weeks as he waited to hear from her and knowing how much she had been in pain had hurt him. He picked her up soon after and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down on the bed. He crawled in next to her and wrapped his arms around her once more.

“Have you heard from your brothers yet?”

“Not a word. Not that I have checked my phone since the article came out.”

He frowned at her, tightening his hold, “Sometimes I wonder if part of their acceptance is just to forget it ever happened in the first place.”

This made him laugh a little as he pulled back to look at her. He moved the piece of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. His face changed when he realized that her small smile had turned back into a frown, “I feel so lost. They used to adore me, used to protect me, but now. It feels like they just wish I never existed.”

“Hey, they still love you.” She just blinked at him, “I’m sure if you looked at your phone they would just be wondering if you were okay.”

“I liked your speech, it was very put together.”

He smiled at her, “It made me very proud to be your girlfriend.”

“Hey, I’m always proud to be your boyfriend.”

She giggled and kissed his cheek, “You know what I mean you dork.”

“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends. Did you know Mason and Lia were dating?”

She perked up, “No! When did that happen?”

“Apparently-”

“Hey.”

The two turned and looked at Lia, “What’s up?”

“Your brothers are here.”

꒰ MISCELLANEOUS PLAYER TAGLIST ꒱

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43

PART TWO ; TZ11 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[theoccultz]

How do your classmates and teachers perceive you ?

Req.

Intuitive chanelling

Thank you for all your likes ,repost and feedbacks, i appreciate it 🫶🏼

Pics and dividers credits to their original owners , i dont own them

Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, the decision is always yours .

ATTENTION : Donate #GAZA #BOOST

Pile l . Pile ll.

Pile ll. Pile lV.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Pile l .

Note : Their perception and your real self are 2 different things so take whate resonates and leave what doesn't , take it as a fun reading.

Students:

Nervous and a little on edge , you give off the impression of someone of a hardworker, someone's who's very attentive and great to work with , most of your classmates feel relieved when you are in their team in group projects , they think you have good ideas and a " unique perspective" you always seem to think outside the box , they think you have your style instead of saying things out and loud to appear more confident you seem to speak softly and explain things from your own interpretation, they think you are here to get work done rather to mess around, yes you will be playful with others but you're also very contemplative during class , its like everyone expects you to not pay attention it looks like you are in your head and you're not focused but when the time comes,suppose there's a surprise test you'll actually perform better than everyone else in teams of understanding the concept, your classmates has an assumption that you like to create your space and its always on the quieter side maybe you put in headphones or before writing or learning something you prefer to organise your table or get comfortable before the lecture starts . They think you'll be successful in life , but you might need to do things in a more textbook way rather than making your own interpretations of things and that way you will perform better . I think this perception has changed because of your professor's, maybe they told you to be more specific in your answer or state points in a systematic manner , to use this method and don't do this sum from this methid and blah blah , so you may feel a little stuck and maybe you have to put in more effort even though what you are doing is not wrong its actually creative, but your subjects might need a lot of mechanical interpretation .....yeah i feel so bad , you guys have really interesting perceptions, if you have seen the movie 3 idiots the guy rancho ig was his name , there was one scene where he was arguing with his professor about mechanical learning and ACTUAL learning. You look laid back and chilled out to most of them, you only speak when spoken too vibes but you know too much and keep quite. They think you are a perfectionist and teachers fav .

Your teachers:

They think you are a kind , compassionate person , they think you are introverted or you have a small circle of friends, they think you should take a stand for yourself, maybe they ask you questions and you just go with whatever they are saying instead of explaining it so they feel a little confused as to why you took that action or why you said that , they think you area little slow in your learning and that you actually think from a bigger picture instead of analysing small things for eg : they tell you to assume there's a person , you'll be assuming their height , their gender and what not ,to , make a mental map so you think a little ahead . They think you look intensely at them , maybe when they are explaining something you will look like you are 100% focused but then you might not actively participate in the discussion they want you to do that more , they think you should kind of relax and not be "THAT" attentive . They sometimes see that you may need to ask something but then they know you wouldn't come and ask them , they might think you are shy and nerdy ,yeah they think you are soft spoken and loves to avoid them lol . They think you have an attractive voice .

You may have these placements or you give off the energy of it :

mars 2h , venus-sun square, aquarius moon/rising, cancer6h , Neptune 8h , uranus square mercury, sun tribe nars , mars4h , medusa3h , aries venus , scorpio moon , gemini 8h/4 , L, loose shirt , heart locket , blue keychain , tomboy , late , wavy hair , Jamie, pet snake , crime books , mean girls , ice cream,baseball , anime ,stickers , skyhigh? glasses , cute smile ,fit , hairband , black bag, crocs .

Your energy felt so nostalgic and great to channel , its watching your favourite show on a Saturday night !!! Keep it up guys .

Thank you for reading!!

Pile ll .

Remember guys their perception and your real self are 2 different things so take whate resonates and leave what doesn't , take it as a fun reading.

Classmates:

They think you look nonchalant , you look disinterested and focused , They think you have a good attention span ,they think you might be rich , you look very confident but of course you have flaws , you are not embarrassed easily like you laugh it off , they think you look good in whatever you wear although you are moody , a lot of people find you charming and would be interested in a romantic relationship, they think you are drop dead gorgeous, you give them cold shoulder most of the times you are an ambivert ,you can work well but you are not that interested in people overall ,you have certain people you hang out with , they think you have a questionable circle , they think you have a lot of qualities they would be interested in learning , you give them the vibes of the student who can learn anything very fast you are kind of quick with the information although you may not be interested in class participation that much you , but you do well on your tests , they think you can be a little assertive like outright put them in their place if they disrespect you , you are also very sweet to some but you're kind of awkward with the new one's or people you dont interact a lot with , instead of asking about their day you get bored after 2mins and get back to your place , you seem to be always doing something and they could be taken back ,they think you're always engaged , i dont think you use phones a lot in class , you do look engaged with your work , maybe you just plug in to avoid Distractions and they're like woahh thats so cool , you come off as cool & cold to them lol ice queen vibes* its like someone who'd wear a hoodie in summers and still look cool instead of stupid, they think you are loud or you have masculine voice , they like your smile , hair and body , you may wear crop tops and big shoes , you look kind of edgy with your fashion like y2k style , i'm seeing a lot of stars for some reason. No bs vibe .

Teachers :

Oh my gosh do you volunteer for fashion shows or are you a fashion student ? Your teachers think you look like a doll now pls hang in there with me 😭✋🏽 they think you look kind of weak like you dont eat properly, they think you would ignore them no matter where they see you , you give them short replies , they think you do well in your tests , they think you area little stuck up and doesn't like attending Events , you make it very evident that you are forced to be here , you are emotionally expressive but also you keep on poker face, yeah they cant get a good read on you they have to spend time to not misread your habits , they also think you have good mannerisms yeah not a lot of opinions , they think you kind of actively go to places , they think you can cause trouble tho but you mostly dont so lol

*this was chaotic lmao*

You may have these placements or you give off the energy of it :

Noble , P, sister , sweet smell , kangaroo, 616 , 9, 47, hearty lips , big eyes , long eyeliner, yes , lets go out , blue jacket ,pink shirt , black eyes , dancer , sean socks ,j, stencil ? Steel? Mango , daisy , m , k ,braids , venus 9h , mars5h ,saturn2h , Uranus Neptune conjunction, Sagittarius moon , taurus n.node , pisces 1h , 11h satellum ,venus-saturn sextile ,pluto on asc ,19° , yod , cap /taurus rising, cancer 12h , aquarius moon.

Thank you for reading!!

Pile lll .

Remember guys their perception and your real self are 2 different things so take whate resonates and leave what doesn't , take it as a fun reading.

Classmates:

Damnn you have competitors, immediately you are someone of high status in your school/uni whatever, you are someone with great potential, you are very talented and smart , you are rebellious and can outsmart the easily , you know things before they do , they think you have a superiority complex , they think you pick up on their manipulation tactics easily , they think you are a tough nut to crack , they feel intimidated by your aura , they think you are very brave and its stupid to get revenge on you , they feel nervous around you but also excited because you look Sophiscated, they think you judge them harshly , they think you dobt care but you also put up an act , they think your friends are scary or there's too many people on your side , they think you have excellent communication skills , you are not afraid to be big , you would 100% interrupt them in their presentations with your smartass questions, they think you challenge the teachers, you play too risky , they think you may have had a tough childhood, they think you smell good and you love pet's and childerens, they think you'll stand up against the bully , they think you are strong willed, they are impresseed by your dedication, they think if your grades drop in next sem you would get it back but more than before , they think you are sporty , bold , and enthusiastic, they think you should show off your talent more , they'd wanna date you cause you're hot but you're too unbothered by their presence , lots of assumptions and nervous energy . They most likely dont show this they prob pretend around you or act too confident, there's sone bitchy ass Lame people here who are insecure and are projecting, they dont like when you act too "cool" or reject their gestures .

Teachers :

Oh wow completely different, they think you have a lot of interests , they think you can bring honour to the school/college , or a lot of people seem to compliment your ethics , they think you are consistent and very strict on discipline, they think you have a lot of opportunities and you are some people's favourite,they kind of wonder when you're not present, they want to talk to you more to get to know you better but you dont give them a Chance lol , you kind of shock them , for some reasons my notifs are on rise with this pile fir the 2nd time * weird * , you're mostly busy ,they think you are good with technology and loves to spend time in nature , they think you are active and you put in efforts in your appearence ,they think you live far , they think you have a different Accent , some teachers may accidently stalk you and they may think you lie a lot or you are very different from your online persona lol , they think you are artistic and you would 100% get their work done , they think you have neat & clean hands?what ... They think you have a lot of achievement certificates or you'll have many , they think you can make a great speaker , they think you learn from faliures , they think you want to be liked by your peers but you failed to do so , they think you lack confidence and need a lot of assurance. If you are mostly absent they'd wanna see you around more , they may mispell your name but they find you sincere and hard-working, someone who'll make it big with their skills & knowledge.

You may have these placements or you give off the energy of it :

Virgo rising, libra 10h , 9h moon ,12 satellum, jupiter sun , sun pluto saturn-pluto , birthday, 16 , funny, online ,stunted , senior , lilith prominent ,text habits are strange, eye bags , heighted , lot of distractions in this pile .

Thank you for reading!!

Pile lV .

Remember guys their perception and your real self are 2 different things so take whate resonates and leave what doesn't , take it as a fun reading.

Classmates:

They think you are smarter than you come across ,they think you take lead most of the times , they think you are a rebel and you dont back down easily , they like your vibe and they think you have right or good opinion on things , they think you are a trouble maker but you are always saved from the trouble, they think you can manifest easily or you can predict things easily , they think you are strong even in tough times you may appear calm , they think they can confide in you and bitch about other people, they think you are disliked by certain people for no reason like there's a lot of rumour which are untrue and stupid , at the first glance they think you have attitude or you look deatched but you're approachable and kind once spoken ,they think you should take care of your health more , they think you study well and you may have healthy habits , they think you stay up late , they dont know a lot about your background but they appreciate you regardless and will continue to do so , they also think you stand out fron the people in your caste , religion etc etc , they think you are really pretty but you get picked on easily for no reason, they like your eyes , they think you are sad but you hide well , they think you work well under pressure although you may not ,they kind of want to comfort you and have you around in the future. They think you go through a lot of transformations and you may also cut your hairs from time to time its like you maintain yourself, they think you have a signature scent you stick too , they always see you exhausted but still holding up , they think you avoid them or they see you first , they can read you well and they may act accordingly to it , they think you are helpfull but not weak and stupid , they think some are jealous of you , they think you are put in leadership positions and you do well , they do not agree with others critism and defend you most of the times . They think you are funny and free to work with , they love your attitude and would love to be friends with you if you would have less boundaries with them lol .

Teachers :

Ahh they feel disappointed in you , they think you dont focus on their class , they think you do the opposite of what they tell you too , they think you mess up on purpose, they dont like to see you around others ? Wtf they are so childish and unprofessional sorry. Most of your teachers dont want you to cross them if they say its zee then its zee not A , i dont think you do tho , their ass is negative af *toxic energy dude sorry * they want you to just obey them , they want you to be more Clear of your goals , they want to see you in competitions and active in activites,they think you can do better , they think you have a tendency to run away if things get hard, they think you are disrespectful and someone who they need to keep an eye on , they think you are exhausted or mentally drained , they think you dont have a balanced life , they'd want to offer you assistance, they think you resist things and you should be more open and free with them , they want to see you share your wisdom with others , they want to see you smile more or be more enthusiastic, they want to see you in an optimist state , they want you to focus on your self and maintain your hygiene. They think you look pretty elegant and influential but you are depressed , instead of guiding you they can get critical . These teachers are passive aggressive and likely on the face, so pls pick a diff pile if its not the same for you .

Ugh they dont know you at all , they seem so bitter and weird , must be stressful to deal with them , They are not all that first of all , second you should maintain your distance, and be more assertive around them . I picked up this energy of humbling you which i dont agree with .

You may have these placements or you give off the energy of it :

Scorpio sun/moon/rising, Sagittarius 12h, Lilith libra4h , sun-saturn , pisces 3h , leo 9h/rising, 2 , 7/11 , brooklyn ,sweeden , biscuits, netflix , captain, red shirt, clumsy umbrella, lost 20$ , frenemy, documentries , songs ,3pm .

Thank you for reading!!

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Spoilers for Thousand Autumns Volumes 3 and 4!!!

I didn't pay attention to it the first time I read Thousand Autumns, but during my reread it's obvious that Xie Ling and A-Yan knew that Yan Wushi loved Shen Qiao from the start.

Art by @_Konia_; reposted with permission.

It's fairly obvious that Xie Ling is infatuated with Shen Qiao immediately because his gaze never leaves Shen Qiao and Xie Ling trusts him completely:

Yan Wushi only looked at him, his eyes filled entirely with Shen Qiao’s reflection. “I’ll be taking your pulse.” Shen Qiao lifted his wrist, and Yan Wushi didn’t respond to that either, letting Shen Qiao handle him as he wished. But his eyes remained fixed on Shen Qiao—whether Shen Qiao was hunched over or sitting upright, Yan Wushi’s gaze never left him. ...Just as Shen Qiao was furrowing his brows and pondering, Yan Wushi suddenly smiled at him. This smile was different from those faint half smiles from the past, and lacked any sense of sarcasm, ridicule, or unbridled arrogance. It was simply a smile, nothing more, as if it weren’t Shen Qiao in front of him, but a beautiful flower. (vol. 3, pg. 85-6)

A-Yan tells Shen Qiao, "...I understand why my previous self treated you the way he did. He’s a paranoid person at heart, someone who’d never trust anyone else. No matter how good you are, he’d always want to bring out the darkness hidden within you. But he doesn’t know that you are you. There may be hundreds of thousands of Chen Gongs in this world, but there is only one Shen Qiao." (vol. 3, pg. 135)

Yan Wushi notices that, "There was still a hint of remaining warmth within his chest, left there by Xie Ling and A-Yan, from their feelings whenever they thought about Shen Qiao. But at this moment, Yan Wushi forcefully wiped it away..." He doesn't consider the the thoughts and feelings from the other parts of his personality to be his own." (vol. 3, pg. 142)

There's also the scene where Xie Ling tries to kiss Shen Qiao:

...Yan Wushi abruptly seized Shen Qiao’s neck, then he threw himself closer and bit down on his lips! In pain, Shen Qiao snaked his arm around Yan Wushi’s neck and struck hard. The other man fell limply on top of him. It was finally quiet. Shen Qiao let out a sigh of relief. He picked up Yan Wushi’s wrist and felt it, then let out a gasp of surprise. If the man had just been in the throes of qi deviation earlier, then now, only a short time later, his pulse had completely calmed. In contrast, his life force even seemed to be thriving? (vol. 3, pg. 225)

When Yan Wushi is back to his normal personality, he commented on the unskilled kiss: "What, did Xie Ling even forget how to kiss someone after losing most of my memories? He was so impatient he even bit you?" (vol. 3, pg. 232) Yan Wushi knows immediately that Xie Ling has feelings for Shen Qiao, but he doesn't realize his own feelings yet.

Later, Yan Wushi admits to himself that Xie Ling and A-Yan's thoughts where his own as well, and that's what leads to the confession scene:

Yan Wushi smiled but didn’t speak. Before, he’d loathed “Xie Ling’s” influence, thinking that those thoughts weren’t his own. He’d tried to suppress that strange feeling numerous times, and he’d believed that the moment he repaired the flaw in the demonic core, that feeling would vanish with it. He hadn’t expected that Shen Qiao’s smile would reawaken everything. He was unwilling to admit that he, who’d looked down upon everyone in the world, would one day find that a name had wormed its way into his heart. Human hearts were filled with malice. Some people were traitors, turning their backs on all integrity; some were ingrates, repaying kindness with enmity. There were also those who’d abandon their spouses, who were willing to do anything for wealth and glory. Yan Wushi had seen many, and he’d thought nothing of them because he, too, was a selfish, callous human. He only categorized things based on whether they deserved his notice, and to him, there were no actions that fell beyond a line that could not be crossed. However, now Yan Wushi was forced to admit that Shen Qiao was unique and that he couldn’t change him. Though the world was vast, there was still only one Shen Qiao. “My venerable self suddenly thought of something amusing,” he said. “Would you like to listen?” “No,” said Shen Qiao. Yan Wushi turned a deaf ear and started talking anyway. “Once upon a time, there was a man who found a stone in a heap of gold and jewels.” Shen Qiao’s mouth twitched. Didn’t he just say that he didn’t want to listen? “But he couldn’t believe that it was only an ordinary stone. He thought that since it’d been piled together with the mass of treasures in that room, it must also be a treasure. So, he brought it everywhere with him, and even had it examined and polished by many. But every single person, without exception, told him that it was only an ordinary stone, that there was nothing special about it. Guess what happened in the end?” Shen Qiao’s face was both lost and bewildered. “In the end, he finally believed that it was indeed a worthless stone. But in his eyes, compared to the room full of gold and silver treasure, even if it was only a stone, it was still one of a kind—a stone out of a million.” Shen Qiao was silent. Why did this story sound so bizarre? It was indeed unusual to hear such a normal story from such an abnormal person. He couldn’t help but say, “Even thousands of gold pieces cannot purchase happiness. Some people care little for wealth—they only wish to seek out things that other people find worthless. In my opinion, that man already liked that stone more than the other jewels and treasures, but he was trapped by his preconceptions and unwilling to admit it.” Yan Wushi laughed. “That’s true, you’re very correct. Thousands of gold pieces cannot purchase happiness." There seemed to be a deep significance within these words. (vol. 4, pg. 58-60)

[cyborg-franky]

prompt: Hello!! First off thank you guys for such an amazing blog & event!! I was hoping please, maybe I could request g/n reader (if applicable) with either (or both) Law and Kid where they are all hit with a type of truth-truth devil fruit and are all unable to lie for the rest of the day (or until they get the user) it can be SFW or NSFW either way <3 Thank you all again for such an awesome blog!!

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

SFW - GN READER

- Law clocks it fast and not because you keep spouting off the truth but because his usual little white lies to avoid hurting Shachi’s feelings didn’t come out and he told him exactly what he thought about the new hat.

- So, Law, like the mature adult he is, hid from you.

- Every time he heard your voice, or someone said your name he basically tucked in his limbs and just rolled the heck away.

- He was not ready to admit his feelings for you to himself yet let alone to your face.

- There might have been many gross misuses of his power for a quick getaway.

- Sometimes throwing Penguin into your path as he noped out of there.

- It wasn’t till you snuck upon him, that he thought he was alone in his office did you confront him.

- It must have been because he’d been hit with the same power attack as you had.

- Why was it though? Did Law have these negative thoughts and feelings about you, and he just didn’t want to blurt them out?

- You’d seen Shachi crying to himself at least twice today over Law’s newfound truth-telling power.

- Taking a breath, you burst into his office and shouted out “Law, what is your problem with me? Why are you avoiding me!”

- Law spun around and stared at you, eyes wide as his mouth opened and it came out.

- “Because I am in love with you and I am not ready to admit that and I can’t handle having feelings for someone, everyone I love gets hurt.”

- You gawked at him, and he sighed.

- There it was.

- “Are you happy?” Law grunted, a sneer on his face as pink worked its way across his cheeks.

- “Yes, because I love you too.”

- You’d both been hit with a truth-telling devil fruit, it took ages before anyone realised it wasn’t just you who had been affected by it.

- Kid was just the type of person to be blunt and straightforward, he wouldn’t say anything behind someone’s back that he wouldn’t say to their face.

- You’d been telling everyone everything and it was getting hard. You wanted it to wear off before you confessed your feelings to Kid.

- Looks like you didn’t have to worry about that. At least you weren’t the one to spill it first.

- Killer was smart, and sly he was going to use this to his advantage. He’d seen you both dance around your feelings for far too long.

- Sat around the table for dinner Killer sits there as madness descends all around as everyone stuffs their face with his best pasta.

- You are staring at your food, trying to avoid being asked anything.

- You were exhausted because you felt you had no secrets from anyone after the day unfolded and the power still had you in its clutches.

- Only Killer and Kid knew it was gripping the captain too.

- Killer looked over at Kid and cleared his throat. “Kid, do you have any romantic feelings? And if so.. who?”

- Kid tried to put his hand over his mouth, glaring daggers at Killer but it blurted out, as well as some pasta.

- You stared wide eyes at your captain, his confession. Your own soon tumbled from your lips, cheeks as red as Kid’s hair.

[fandom-skellyweirdo-jumper]

Zenshu's Built in Character Flaws aka Why Luke Braveheart and Unio seem to be Assholes and why I like it. (A repost of a reblog to stand as its own post.)

Regarding ep1, we all gets to see the 'stoic' act of Luke and Unio as we watch them insult Natsuko foe being in the desert without waiting to hear an explanation and leave hear to starve when she is hungry. And than in ep 2, we see blanton sexism that Natsuko points out when he gives his reasons as to why Natsuko can't join the 9 heros.

And I can see how a lot of people might regard these moments as annoying or infuriating as Luke and Unio are supposed to be "Heros" and anime is following annoying tropes. (At this point i feel we can comfortably regard Luke as more of a warrior than w Hero I'd say.)

But, to me, it all makes perfect sense.

Because these unheroic flaws are evidence that Luke Braveheart is a protagonist of an old school fantasy anime film (aka the old school fantasy anime film that Natsuko watched as a kid) and one that was regarded as unpopular/a flop/bad by critics.

Unio has the perfectly annoying traits of a side character/sidekick you'd see in like the 1980s (?) (I'm thinking of scrappy from Scooby-Doo). Arrogant, likes partying and drinking over listening to a warning, wants rewards as a hero, flirts with Memmeln ect.

Memmeln is there as the token women warrior who doesn't even speak up much for herself or show alot of emotions (from what I've seen in the first 2 episodes).

And QJ is the intelligent character that's there more to exaggerated the danger coming towards them than to actually be helpful since its an action anime film. Example: "CHANCE OF SUCCESS IS 3%" & "Charging is what he's going to be doing from now on whenever you actually need him."

They all exist as animated characters that a kid would watch in theater in the 1900s and believe they were the coolest people ever as they believed the film was the coolest thing ever produced. But than acknowledge all the media's flaws once they got older.

All of this I'm ok with and am able to stand because Natsuko clearly does not put up with any of that crap and seems to be admiring everyone for their animation art and nostalgia.

She does not treat them like great heros of legends like people would do with meeting [the Avatar from atla] or [Harry Potter]. She does not worship or dream about them like celebrities but as the childhood characters she has known well and appreciated for a long time.

And I'm really excited to see how the anime grows everyone or even just Luke from their 2D archetype into more complex people. And I'm excited to see how Natsuko treats them as time goes on. (Frankly the running gag of her swinging Unio by his horn in hilarious. She has no respect for anyone🤣😍🥰)

[kingofthering-two]

Hi guys, Maïna / kingofthering here. You might have heard or noticed that I got my account terminated yesterday (and had the joy to discover you don’t just lose your sideblog but all the blogs associated with your account).

What happened? As I mentioned last week, I received my 2nd strike for copyright infringement on the 11th of December and I protested it (sent a DMCA counter notice) on the 12th. Tumblr forwarded the counter notice to the claimant on the 16th, leaving them 10 business days to answer before I could get the strike taken away and the content restored. Unfortunately, yesterday, on the 19th, I received my third strike and it came with the termination of my account. 

How is it fair that tumblr lets you receive a new strike so soon after the precedent one, when you couldn’t even have the time to finish fighting the first one? I legitimately don’t know. I’ve tried to contact them about this but they don’t treat the messages since it’s coming from a terminated account. I think I need to send the message with another email address, which I might do later.

Could my account come back? In theory, from what I’ve read online, yes, but that remains to be seen from my end for me to be completely sure of that. My only current hope is for the blog to reappear when I get my first and second strikes removed (the first is from January but I never thought of fighting it before because it was videos so I thought they didn’t stand a chance but now I genuinely believe the type of content doesn’t matter). 

In September, there were 14 days between the counter notice being sent and me getting my content back (10 business days + weekends) and I suppose we might have to take into account Christmas here. I think that in the best case scenario, I might hear from tumblr on the 30th of December, maybe the 31st.

What now? I briefly considered using this as a (forced) break from tumblr. I tried to have one earlier this year and failed miserably. I think that the older I get, the less patience and tolerance I have for things that annoy me (and get past the filtering system) (but also things outside of tumblr, seeing my gifs get reposted to twitter, something that happened again recently, really annoys the fuck out of me). But, at the end of the day, the good outweighs the bad (annoying) far much, when it comes to this website and this community. If I check my tumblr app screentime on my phone, I might cry at how bad it is. I do want to finish the projects I have ongoing (the RPF survey answers will be studied and treated and shared) and keep in touch with everything happening on here.

I’m going to use this current account to browse tumblr at least until the end of the year. I’ve already seen glimpses of stories that I need to catch up on and I’ve seen you guys being very supportive already (thank you) so I felt like making myself reachable here was better. Posting wise, I’ll probably post about things that I know are safe i.e. things of my own (stats, my progress on the 2025 journals) and gifs of things not coming from Dorna (e.g. reels/tiktoks, podcast videos).

What then? The only thing I can tell you for sure is that no matter what happens next, I’m going to create an archive blog on a separate account (with a dedicated email address). This blog will not have posts of its own but only reblogs of content I originally posted on kingofthering. If I can have my old account back, the job will be made much easier (and will obviously be more complete). If not, I’ll have to rely on a lot of research to get things back as best as I can. Don’t worry about this for now, I’m going to wait until I know for sure about my old account to start the process (since the method will be very different depending on the answer on that).

For 2025, we will see. The thing is, even if I get my account back, I know that I will keep getting strikes (even if I’m not posting anything because old posts of mine have been targeted as well) and honestly, even if fighting them works, it’s both stressful and exhausting. Also, people have been winning the battles against the strikes for now but who knows how long that will last.

And like I mentioned, it’s a sideblog connected to all my other blogs which also depend on kingofthering’s faith. That includes my main blog that I’ve had since 2011 (I don’t use it much but I use it to keep all the useful stuff like the photoshop tutorials, writing prompts, etc), my hockey sideblog (not been using it much either lately but it does have some history I’d like to keep) and a bunch of others.

A solution to keep those other accounts safe would probably be to move everything motorsports related to a new account (maybe this one if I can get my main back) and delete the original kingofthering. It would pain me because of the history of this blog and what I would lose in the process (mostly the asks I haven’t gotten to answer and obviously the following that I had grown but I suppose that I can grow back little by little). It would also mean I couldn’t see anymore the posts in my notes and the tags people add to their reblogs (which is like half the purpose of posting in the first place) and that’s annoying as well but I suppose I could grieve that too, in theory.

If I don’t even get the account back, well. I talk about creating a new dedicated account but if it also gets striked (which I suppose will happen), it will be equally exhausting to fight fo it so, I don’t even know if I want to do that.

At this point, I know which content is safe for sure (or what has been safe so far for me) and there are still a lot of stuff that I enjoy sharing with you and getting your opinion on but giffing race weekends was the major part of my blog and I don’t know how I feel about giving that up. Anyway, much thoughts to have still.

Can you do something to help? I don’t think so. Or, well, not with recuperating my account. In regards with the copyright issue as a whole, though? I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what’s the best course of action there. I’ve seen some discussions around about emails and a petition and involving other social media and bigger people but I genuinely don’t know what’s the best thing to do. I’ve personally always considered tumblr as this little (safe for everything) bubble and I don’t exactly feel comfortable “exposing” some of my content here to the rest of the world (some people on tumblr are already mean enough about RPF, I don’t need to see what people not on here have to say about it). That’s obviously just me and I’m not going to keep anyone from doing what they think is right. Part of me wants to believe that things will fix themselves once Liberty Media take over but that’s not a sure thing and the frequency of strikes lately has been quite worrying so I understand the need to do something. Some thinking over to do there too.

Where can you find me? For tumblr, on here for now. I’m going to post this on the motogp tag and I’ll try to follow my mutuals (from memory so, going to miss a lot of people for sure, sorry in advance). I might appreciate a reblog of this post to spread the word. I still have my twitter (mostly talking stats), the blog and my tiktok (barely being used but still in existence).

If I do the set ups correctly I’ll have my DMs open here and askbox open to anons. I am still bad at answering those, though, so apologies in advance there as well.

(Also, I just got home for the holidays and literally learned about the news when I was in the train yesterday afternoon, so, worst timing ever.)