#this is just going to multiply it tenfold

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Twenty-Four

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @legolasbadass

@xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically

@notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

@ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972

@glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

@sazzlep @night-ace @lyl1pad @mistresskayla-blog1

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Darkness crept into Dale and Nina tried not to notice the passage of time, even as she lit the lamp on her bedside table. A sense of unease swept through her, especially when she went out into the sitting area, where she found Sigrid at the battered kitchen table, knitting. 

Sigrid said nothing, but merely arched an eyebrow and that somehow made her feel even worse. Had she been a fool? Had Thorin sought to get even with her by using her, making her think he felt something, and…

No. She refused to even consider the very notion.

“It’s almost eight,” Sigrid remarked, lowering her knitting.

“I know.” Nina sank onto the arm of the sofa with a low sigh, a feeling of idiocy swirling through her. “Perhaps my faith was misplaced.”

“I had hoped not.”

“So did—” The sudden rap on the door cut her off and her spirits rose as she did. Nina smiled over her shoulder at Sigrid. “Perhaps it wasn’t after all.”

Sigrid smiled. “Only one way to find out.”

Nina drew a deep breath to quell the thousands of butterflies that had taken up residence in her belly as she reached for the door handle. But when she pulled it open and her gaze alit on Thorin on the far side of the threshold, those butterflies multiplied tenfold.

He offered up a sheepish smile. “I know I’m late, but I do have a good reason.”

“Come in, Thorin. And then you can offer up your reason.”

He bobbed his head. “Fair enough.”

She stepped back to allow him room to enter the flat and as he did, he said, “Miss Sigrid, how do you fare?”

“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Sigrid rose from the table, scooping her knitting into her arms. “I will allow the two of you—”

“No, there’s no need to leave, Miss Sigrid.” 

“That’s fine. I have a book waiting for me and you two don't need an audience.” She smiled. “It was nice seeing you again, Thorin.”

With that, she swept into her room, and Nina turned to Thorin. “I’m listening.”

“Oh, right. I was waylaid in Erebor.” He offered up a sheepish smile. “Balin was working on something for me and he was supposed to have finished it by now, but did not.”

“What was he working on? Something to do with Esgaroth?”

“In a matter of speaking, yes.” He gestured to the door. “Now, I believe I promised you supper, didn't I?”

“You did.” 

“Then come along and we will enjoy a meal not cooked out in the open by Dwalin.”

“We enjoyed several like that in Mirkwood,” she reminded him.

“And not surrounded by elves, either.” 

“Fair enough.”

Once they were outside, he reached for her hand, linking his fingers with hers, and as they touched, Nina felt the snap of electricity between them and wondered if she would always feel it. Thorin looked over at her, his eyes soft, and without a word, lifted her hand to his lips. 

“You felt it, didn't you?”

“Felt what?” He winked and his fingers tightened about hers. “Where should we go?”

“Anywhere but the Black Swan.”

“Agreed.”

They made their way along Stone Street, and out to the main street, which was twice as wide, but far more quieter at night than it would be come morning. Some shops had closed for the night, but plenty more remained open, their brightly colored awnings still unrolled over the doorways and soft warm light within welcoming any and all shoppers. 

“This city has come a long way,” he said, gesturing to the buildings to his right. “Half of these were in ruins a year ago. Now look at them.”

“The first few weeks here were terrible,” she told him as they strolled toward the low wall at the far end of the street, overlooking the plains, and in the distance, Erebor. “Thranduíl had been somewhat generous, bringing much needed food and clothing, but there were still so many people and so few resources. Bard proved his gift for leadership during that time. And it’s amazing what people can accomplish when they work together.”

She looked over to the west, where some buildings had been restored, but others were still in various stages of ruin. “An enormous troll lumbered through here, just swinging this equally enormous club this way and that. I’d never seen anything like it. He was horrifying, and so ugly, you couldn't help but stop and stare at him for a moment.” 

“I did not see the one who tore through here, but I've battled trolls before,” he replied, pausing to sink against the rough stone wall. “Before we reached Rivendell the first time. We’d stopped for the night and mountain trolls made off with several of our ponies. Fíli and Kíli took Bilbo in an attempt to get them back and we all almost ended up on the troll menu.”

“Ew. They are foul creatures.”

“That they are.” 

In the distance, pale gold light spilled through elegant bay windows and she nodded toward it. “The Provincial House. That’s what Sigrid gave up to share a tiny little flat with me.”

“I’ve spent more than my share of time there since Smaug.” His thumb brushed along hers. “The bowman has done well for your people.”

“He has,” she nodded, then gazed up at him. Moonlight danced lightly along his hair, glinted off the ornaments woven into the black strands, and gleamed off the silver streaking it. Without thinking, she reached up to brush her fingers through it. 

She let her fingertips trail along the braid woven at his left temple. At its end, a silver cube had been woven it. It lay heavy in her palm as she said, “What is this?”

“This?” He caught the braid from her, catching the small cube between his thumb and forefinger. “It was a gift, from my father.”

“An odd gift, that.”

“To Men, perhaps.” He smiled, letting the braid go slack. “But to dwarves? It is not odd at all. To dwarves, hair is sacred. That’s why you will not see a clean-shaven dwarf, nor one with what you would call a sensible haircut. We take great pride in our hair, and we protect it as if it were a living being.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “You’ve seen even the women have beards, and most of them are decorated and almost all of the decorations have meaning behind them. No one touches a dwarf’s hair unless he or she has proven themselves utterly trustworthy to the dwarf in question and has been given their permission to touch it.”

“I didn't know that. I just thought you felt it made you look more threatening.”

He grinned then. “Am I so threatening to you?”

“Well, not now. But when you first came through Esgaroth? It was easy to see you making someone uneasy. But at the same time, it was also easy to see why your men followed you all the way from the Shire. I’ve the feeling they would willingly die for you, if necessary.”

A hint of color rose along his cheekbones, only just barely visible in the moonlight. “I owe my life to them, all of them. But especially the hobbit.”

“Bilbo, right?”

He nodded. “Bilbo Baggins of Bag End in the Shire. At first, he had no desire to join us, no desire to leave his home and all of its comforts. And to be honest, I don't know why he changed his mind, other than he was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t.”

“You never asked him?”

That color along his cheekbones deepened. “I—uh—never got the chance. We had a bit of a falling out and it wasn't until I thought I was dying that we—that I apologized for my role.”

A hint of sadness crept into his voice. She moved to ease herself between his thighs and let her hands come to rest upon his powerful shoulders. “If you don’t wish to speak of it, I understand.”

He gazed up at her, his eyes soft and pale. “The memories are unpleasant. I put many lives at risk. I cost so many innocent people so much. You don't need me to tell you this, you know it firsthand.”

“I do, but… just… now you’re atoning for it. Look at this place,” she swept one hand out behind her, at the buildings that had risen from the ash, “and see for yourself. It was a ruin and now, it’s not entirely reborn, but it’s getting there. You’ve kept your word, Thorin.”

He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs grazing along them as he murmured, “I love you.”

She smiled, then leaned in and caught his lips in a teasing kiss. His hands tightened on her hips, pulled her snugly into the vee of his spread legs, and when she drew back, she murmured, “I love you, too.”

“We should go find someplace to eat.” He rose without releasing her. “Before the hour grows too late and every place is closed.”

****

After a quiet supper in a cozy little cafe on the eastern side of Dale, they strolled back along the promenade, toward Stone Street. Her fingers laced with Thorin’s, her head resting against his shoulder. Nina was certain she’d never known the happiness, the contentment, like those swirling through her then. Everything was right in her world, more right than she could have ever imagined. 

“What’s on your mind?” Thorin asked, his voice low and gentle.

“Not much, really.” She lifted her head to peer up at him. “I’m happy. I mean, I’m still sore, but I’m happy.”

He released her hand, easing that arm about her shoulders. “Happy, eh?”

“Very happy. Why? Shouldn’t I be?”

“I didn't say that.” He pressed her against his side. “It’s a nice sight to see, you happy.”

“What about you? What’s on your mind?”

Thorin stopped then, stepping before her. “I am also happy.”

“Good. I’ve the feeling it’s been a long time since you were happy, Thorin.” She reached up to curve her hand against his bristled cheek. “And you should be happy.”

He blocked out the moon as he leaned in and their lips met softly. Nina melted against him, easing one arm about his neck and the other about his waist. He bent her back, his lips parting, his tongue meeting hers and her heart sped up at the slow teasing. 

Thorin broke the kiss slowly, pulling away to sweep his lips along her jaw, toward her ear, where he whispered, “I should see you home, mesmel.”

“I hate to see this evening end,” she confessed, tucking her head against his chest.

He wrapped her in his embrace, pressed a kiss into the top of her head, and murmured, “There will be more like this.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“There will. I promise you this.”

With that, she slowly pulled out of his arms, but caught his hand once more and in comfortable silence, they strolled back toward Stone Street. 

At her door, she smiled. “I had a lovely time this evening, Thorin.”

“As did I.” 

“Would you like to come inside?”

His eyes glinted and his grin grew feral to send heat spiking through her, but then he slowly shook his head. “As much as I would love to, I should be going. But, if you are free tomorrow afternoon, there’s something I’d like to show you.”

She nodded. “I’m free. I have to work tomorrow night, though.”

“I will have you back in time. I’ll be by around noon.”

“I’ll see you then.”

He leaned in, brushed her lips with his once more, and then stepped back. She opened the front door and reluctantly stepped inside and as she closed it, she heard a soft, faint whistle as Thorin strolled back down Stone Street. 

“You look happy.”

Nina turned to see Sigrid at the table, this time a book open before her, and she smiled. “That is because I am.”

“Because of your dwarf?”

“Because of my dwarf.”

Sigrid chuckled. “I must admit, you could do far worse than him. Perhaps he is not so terrible after all. Should I give him another chance?”

“I wish you would.” Nina crossed to the table to draw out a chair and sank into it. “You’re my dearest friend, Sigrid. I would like it if you and he could at least be civil to one another.”

A hint of color appeared along Sigrid’s high cheekbones. “Da did say he was keeping his promise, the one he’d made that night he and his company broke into the armory.”

“He is. At least, as far as I know, he is.”

“And we are out from under the Master’s incompetence as well. Did you know his lackey made a pass at me once.”

“What?” Nina couldn’t keep the disgust from her voice. “When?”

“I had gone to speak with the Master about something, something my father asked me to take care of for him whilst he was out on the water. And while I was there, in that gaudy house, Alfrid happened upon me and thought he might take a liberty or two.”

Nina couldn't help the shudder that rippled through her. Alfrid Lickspittle was every bit as sleazy as his name suggested and she did not envy Sigrid’s having to deal with him. “Tell me you punched him straight in the nose. Or somewhere it would hurt even more.”

“I wish. No, actually, I burst out laughing at him, which was terribly rude of me, I suppose, but somehow, I’m not at all sorry for it.”

“He was a horrid little man. If he touched me, I think I’d have to lop that body part clean off.”

Sigrid burst out laughing. “Nina, that’s terrible!”

“So was he.”

“I’ll not argue that with you at all.” Sigrid sat back in her chair. “Why do I think His Majesty does not make you wish to lop off any body parts?”

Nina could hold back her smile, heat spilling through her at the memory of her and Thorin in the infirmary the previous night. “No, he certainly doesn’t. Not one bit.”

“Well, I am happy for you. But know this, if he ever hurts you…”

Nina reached across the table to give Sigrid’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” 

The trek back to Erebor was uneventful for a change. Still, Thorin did not leisurely stroll home, despite his good mood. It was a clear, cool night, and the walk was pleasant, but even so, he felt no little relief when he crossed over the obsidian bridge spanning the narrow river before Erebor’s main gate. Perhaps one day he’d once again be able to travel without always looking over his shoulder, without wondering who out there might be taking aim at him, but it would not be today. 

A sigh bubbled to his lips. In so many ways, being just Thorin Oakenshield was far easier than being king. Oakenshield could come and go as he pleased, without worrying about any bounty on his head. 

He frowned. No, that wasn't entirely true, as Azog had put that bounty in place long before Thorin ever crossed Erebor’s threshold. He just hadn’t known about it until his not-so-chance meeting with Gandalf at the Prancing Pony in Bree that led to his decision to retake Erebor. 

So much had happened since that rainy night. So much, indeed.

“Ah, there you are.” Balin strode toward him. 

“You’re waiting up for me?”

Balin chuckled. “Yes, but not for the reason you might think.”

“A relief, that.” Thorin met him about three-quarters of the way across the Great Hall. “For what reason, then?”

“I’ve finished.”

Thorin halted his stride. “Already? You thought it would take several more days.”

“Well, I did at first, but then I figured out what was giving me such trouble and then, I finished it.” Balin offered up a proud grin. “Would you like to see it?”

“I would, yes.”

“Then come along. Your lady will be here come tomorrow, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Then come with me and I hope you approve.”

Thorin fell into step alongside Balin to trek down to the lower level, where Balin’s workshop was located. “Why do I think that won’t be a problem?”

“Well, it probably won’t be, but still…”

“Balin, you know I trust you.”

“I realize that, but this is an important piece.” Balin glanced over at him as they descended the main staircase. “It is not every day the king is betrothed, you know.”

Thorin couldn't hold back his smile. “I do like how that sounds.”

Balin let out a soft chuckle. “I have to admit, they are not words I thought I’d ever utter, but here we are.”

“Here we are.” As they reached the landing, overlooking the treasure horde, he paused, hands on the marble rail. “Tell me, do you think anyone will have concerns where Miss Carren is concerned?”

“They might,” Balin admitted with a slow bob of his head, “for she is unknown to us. But, your people trust your judgement, so in time, if she’s won your heart, I’ve no doubt she will win the hearts of the others as well.”

Thorin turned back to the treasure, glinting beneath the flickering candles in their sconces high up on the stone walls. “Balin, there is something I think you should know. But,” he looked over at the dwarf who was his conscience personified, “what I am about to tell you must never leave this room and it must remain between you and I.”

“This sounds serious.”

“It is. And that is why you must give me your word.”

“Of course. You needn’t even ask, really. I keep what we discuss between us as a rule, unless you say otherwise. So, what is it?”

“It’s about Nina—er, Miss Carren—and how she and I came to be together.”

“Well, I know that already. Dís told me. She offered herself in service as a bodyguard of sorts.”

“Well, yes, she did,” Thorin hedged, linking his fingers. “But, that’s not quite the whole story.”

“Thorin?”

“You know of the bounty, do you not? The one Azog set upon my head.”

“Yes, of course. The Goblin King was quite sure he was going to collect on it.”

Thorin chuckled, remembering their time in Goblin-town. “Aye, quite sure, indeed. If only Gandalf had been in agreement with him.”

Balin joined him in his laughter for a moment, but then, his expression grew serious. “What about that bounty?”

Thorin hesitated, then drew in a deep breath and went into the story of how Nina came to be in his company outside of Rivendell. He waited for Balin’s shocked expression and was not disappointed as the older dwarf stared up at him in wide-eyed surprise. “Are you so certain marrying her would be wise, Thorin?”

Thorin scowled. “I told you, she has no intention of claiming that bounty any longer and of everyone, I’ve come to know her best. I’ve been alone with her, I’ve slept alongside her, and—”

“Here, you mean. On dwarven territory, within your kingdom.”

“No,” Thorin shook his head, “not only here. The first time we were together, we were in Mirkwood. And I was as vulnerable there as I would be anywhere. And yet, here I am, alive and well and in one piece.”

“Thorin, you cannot let this be known,” Balin told him, his voice low, “for should anyone else learn of this… the consequences could be dire.”

“And that is why this will remain between you and I,” Thorin replied evenly.

“Well, yes, of course, but does anyone else know?”

“Only you and Dwalin know. No one else does, not even Dís. And I fully intend to keep it that way.”

“I should hope so,” Balin told him with a stern look. “It would be disastrous, should this get out.”

“I know. In time, perhaps it won’t be, but for now—”

“It will be kept under wraps.”

“Good. And do not let it color your perceptions of Miss Carren. I assure you, she is not going to slice my head from my body any time soon.”

Balin shot him a long look, then resumed down the second staircase. “I certainly hope not.”

“Trust me.”

“I do. But I know you. I do not know her.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Give it time, Balin. It won’t take long for her to win you over as well.”

#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here? #Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

[missmouse25]

rambling in the tags

#sometimes its hard to be happy for other people and you dont know why #it's a feeling im no unfamiliar with but it's been a long time since i've felt it that i dont know how i coped with it the last time #i really feel like i should be happy for her #and i know that deep down its not about the car it's more than that #she's already so independent and ambitious #this is just going to multiply it tenfold #and maybe it's also because im older than her that i feel that i should be the first to experience things #but that's never been my life #not compared to hers or any of my friends #right now it feels like my life is in a survival mode #im really only thinking day to day and not long term #and the stuff that is long term is so daunting and big #all of that to say that im in my feels and im probably going to be here for awhile #gonna make an appointment with the therapist for next week #dl

[uncanny-tranny]

It's still fucked up to go "why can't people accept trans men as men when they act JUST LIKE cis men," and it (at best) is putting trans men in a shitty position wherein we have to prove ourselves suffieciently enough and at worst is actively just transphobia reliant on gender essentialism, which affects all trans people and then some.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #nonbinary #transphobia #transphobia tw #i've honestly found that people have held me to a much higher standard than cis men and i imagine that is multiplied tenfold among TPoC #the conversation about how we (general) make TPoC into a Threat is not mine to have. i have seen this discussion pop up multiple times #and the way gender is racialized absolutely affects PoC and TPoC #it runs me the wrong way precisely because of the gender essentialism and how much of that is rooted in transphobia 👍 #like i feel as though people will read past the transphobia i'm talking about to go 'oh classic man whining' but... #...transphobia is transphobia even if it is 'gender-affirming' transphobia #my manhood isn't affirmed when you assume i'm a danger or that i am bound to be a fuck-up yknow? #because i *do* actually try my best to be good to the people around me and i *do* my best to protect others #and i am confident in the fact that the people around me irl will know that i don't fuck around when it comes to wanting to have their backs #like i have made it clear that i am willing to go apeshit if i'm told somebody is not safe #anyway i just want people to be mindful about how they talk about trans people and how playing into gender essentialism won't save us #i want people to know that they're still hurting trans people even if they think they're somehow punching up at us #talking about this because it's weirdly something i see so often when people even look at a trans man (only slightly hyperbolic) #people assume trans men have no idea what women and gender expansive people go through when it's like...??? HUH??? #(also going off earlier my manhood doesn't even *need* to be rooted in protecting others and being a shield for me to be a man)

[dj-tak0wasa]

tell us why. tell us what they renamed the hall to. say her fucking name. Hind Rajab. include the fact that she was a 6 year old riddled with bullets in a vehicle that she and her family were hoping to escape in.

(article)

#israel is a terrorist state #free palestine #palestine will be free #they also caled the protests 'pro-hamas' instead of pro palestine #theyre mentioning jewish students getting punched yelled at and spit at but what about the students who are bleeding onto the pavement? #those who have snipers focused on them? #i love living in america (lie) #people are worried about the chaos israel making another 'big move' would be but like?? #imagine all of this chaos. everything going on at the university. #and multiply it tenfold #and then keep doing so #just because the churches schools shelters and hospitals aren't in your country doesn't mean they're of any less worth. they're all gone

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

#yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere dragon #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

[murdrdocs]

Sej + just the tip 🫠🤧

But then like u don't even realize how far gone u are until he's splitting u open and he's like "yeah? you can take it can't you? just a little bit more for me?" the tip becomes ALL! OF! IT! and he's looking at himself in ur guts and pressing on ur stomach and watching his thick cock nudge ur cervix like damn✨

you’ve been considering having sex with sejanus for a while, but each time you thought you were ready you couldn’t help but back out. and of course, he’s been understanding, only proceeding with whatever you’re comfortable with without any complains.

but this time you’re ready, you want to take that extra step, and your pants are off and your panties have been pushed to the side to make you feel even more comfortable but then you catch sight of how big sejanus is and fear trickles down your body.

“sej, it’s too big. i can’t …” but he’s quick to soothe any worries.

“we can just do the tip, baby. that’s it. to get you used to it, yeah?”

and at first he does just do the tip, his head slipping in and stretching you out so well. it’s addicting, it feels fucking amazing, taking someone as big as him even if you’ve only taken a little. your hand is nestled in his grown out curls at the back of his head, the other digging into his bicep beside your ear, and sejanus has his face buried in the crook of your neck.

you’re both lost in the bliss, and you don’t know if he does it on purpose, but suddenly more than the tip is sheathed inside of you. maybe you’ve encouraged him without realizing, your hips likely to have ground against his and your knees digging into his side. no matter who initiated it, sejanus is splitting you open in a way that is more than you thought you could take.

you don’t even know if you can take anymore, surely nearing your end but there’s no way he’s nearing his. your nails dig into his bicep, you whine.

“sej, ‘s too much.”

he breathes deeply, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and pulling out a little. then, he decides against it, nestling the length he’d just removed and more back inside of your cunt.

“just a little more, honey. almost there. you can take it, right? you’re being so good for me. such a big girl, taking me like this.”

the feeling of it is so distracting, a steady glide in that produces a loving burn. by the time he starts rocking his length in and out of you in steady thrusts, you’ve gotten used to it. you take it, arching your back, unabashedly moaning out into the warm air.

sejanus encourages you throughout it, little praises of, “that’s it” and “there you go” keeping you tethered to him. you’re so far gone that you don’t notice how deep he’s in you, not until he presses a hand to your lower abdomen, alerting you of his depth.

“you feel that? hm? look,” he moves his chest back from yours to allow you to look down. and sure enough, you can see just the faintest outline of where sejanus is within you. or maybe you’re so fucked out that you’re imagining it. no matter the reality, the effect is no less profound, your hormones multiplying tenfold until you throw one of your legs up, attempting to get sejanus even deeper when you know it to be fruitless.

he still does what he can, taking your calf in his hand and pressing back to get himself deeper.

#sejsworld! #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth fluff #celeste writes thg

[planete777]

ONE TOO MANY・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. when one more orgasm is one too many (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, p in v sex, high hotness (although not as pertinent, could really be read as sober sex tbh), unintentional overstimulation, a bit of crying, lando is a sweetheart

NOTE. pretty short, would probably be more of a drabble. nothing much to say other than this is not my best work but enjoy! credits to @benkeibear for the dividers.

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)

y/n feels lando everywhere, in places where she cannot ever fathom the tingles of pleasure reaching, and it succumbs her mind to a state of tattered mesh. the margin between euphoria and pain chips away in grand chunks, red swiftly dissolving in green and all ability to think dwindles.

usually, she's one to favour a bit of overstimulation, hence why lando currently slams his hips into hers, cock jabbing her cervix incessantly just succeeding 2 consecutive orgasms. yet, partnered with the fact that she's high out of her mind (leading to heavily amplified sensations) and how she already had her own fun before lando came home (and, by proxy, got high and excessively horny) meant that her body was on the verge of crying out in it all just exceeding the usual threshold.

she can feel her body shaking, head nudging the headboard with every thrust lando bestows, and it's like she's bouncing on hot lava: seconds of pure relief, startled by white heat.

there's barely any transition between the build up and her orgasm, the wave of aching pleasure crashing upon her in the blink of an eye, and her back arches completely off the bed.

"fuck fuck fuckkk-"

"yeah, that's it, baby," lando groans as he continues to snap his hips into her ass, "you're doing so well for me."

he's not stopping, and y/n can't blame him because it's quintessential that they go for longer. then lando's pace quickens and his dick seems to fly in and out of her that she can't answer what he asks.

"you can give me another, can't you?"

she wants to shake her head, but she's completely unmoving. her moans turn into silent, drunken puffs, eyes fused tightly shut as she digs her nails into the flesh of lando's muscular back. paradoxically, everything feels like nothing at all, and simultaneously, too much and her mouth flies open desperately in sobs and words as hands push into lando's sides to get him off.

"red! fuck— red, lando!"

it's with neck snapping velocity that he sheaths out of her, broken out of his high daze so rapidly that he feels disoriented. their safeword has never been used before, and now that it has, he feels like crying.

"shit, baby, i'm sorry," he presses kisses into her chest and face, concern multiplying when her sobs don't stop, "are you okay? what's wrong?"

"just too much today, sorry," she shifts to straighten out her leg but it jostles her throbbing cunt, making her wince. lando's frown deepens; it's not usually this painful for her.

"nothing to be sorry for, love," another peck is stuck on her lips, "let me get you a towel."

her throat clogs up, too enervated and satiated to reply, so she hums affirmatively instead. the bed dips and, with hooded eyes, she watches as he makes his way to the en suite, hears a few seconds of shuffling before the creak of tap and gushing water.

lando resurfaces seconds later, gently opening her legs before wiping her down. every touch heightens tenfold, and she pushes his hands away after a couple of swatches.

lando's eyebrows stay furrowed, "y/n, you should've stopped me earlier-"

"it's fine, lan'," she stretches an arm to pull him in, "just wanna cuddle now."

he follows, tucking her body into his front as he kissed the side of her neck.

"i'll run you a bath after," lando weaves his fingers through hers, "sound good?"

finally, in a state of bliss, y/n softly smiles, pulling their braided hands up to land a peck onto lando's skin.

"yeah, love, sounds perfect."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1

[anantaru]

Hiya! I just came across your post about what would happen if you said the ‘safe word’ in bed with Alhaitham and ayato.. I was wondering if you’d maybe be able to do it with Kazuha, Xiao and Scaramouche? I’m so curious aha

If you don’t want to I completely understand but I just really like your writing style 🥺

cw. saying the safeword, angsty, fem! reader

a/n. hello loves, quick side note: this is an exception since i had already planned to write them in this scenario as well, please don't send thirsts with more than one character in the future <3 ty and enjoy

— kazuha

kazuha blows his hips into you, hard, precise storms of his thrusts finding your dribbling cunt and in any other typical case, you would've twisted and turned to have him deeper in you, arch your back when he licks his tongue over your neck to wet the skin— specifically to have his cock crowd you this way, until you're seeing nothing but glittering, white stars.

thus far, it didn't develop into the same thing and you begin to wonder why you haven't felt your best tonight. involuntarily you start to sense how you're clenching down on him, wrapping your trembling arms around his chest and hiding your face into his sweat-troubled neck, his pulse throbbing on your cheek.

for some reason, you thought that if you were to calm yourself down, without telling kazuha how you really felt, it would simply go away but again, this time it didn't and nothing was as important as voicing your concerns and discomfort during sex.

he closes your already troubled breathing state when he moves down to sloppily make out with you, ramming the head of his cock into your deepest spots while excitedly running his hand down your core to play with your little clit and stimulate you further as you did something he never thought he'd ever have to encounter nor witness.

you voice, cry and yell out your safe word over and over, right against his cheek when his eyes shot open in disbelief, large and wide, glossed in unwavering worry. every little sound of you felt like it’s multiplying by a tenfold, and you can’t stop.

kazuha pulls out immediately, pacing his eyes over your shaking figure back and forth, watching you again, back and forth, "my love." he says quietly, loosing the beat of his heart when he witnessed your tears spinning out of control. to be sure he was doing what was necessary, he decided to pull away the blanket which was clumsily thrown over you both in order to make it easier for you to breathe, not leaving your space, but he didn't lay a finger on you, the last he would want now was to cross any more boundaries and it eats him up inside, quietly crying.

"do—" his heart sinks, and so does his voice, "do you need water? are you thirsty? please.." absentmindedly, you run your fingers over his upper arm, but the panic in you, for whatever reason it had emerged, is all-consuming and couldn't be shaken off.

your stomach was in knots and you can barely catch yourself, but you also didn't want kazuha to leave you, voicing him clearly, although with a silent tone, that he should please stay. he directly nods in agreement, placing his palm on top of your agitating hand, telling you to take your time and that it was okay, in fact, you had nothing to worry about, he won't leave.

— xiao

xiao's rough touch and mundane scent was everywhere around you, perceivable and invading your nostrils. you loved it whenever he was a little rough with you, almost feral, pleasing your body until you're shaking from aftershocks of his skilled thrusts.

that time, he twists his fingers around your nipples, just a bit but he did it repeatedly, like you would if you were turning a particularly sensitive knob— and your mounds of flesh were beginning to burn, while his groans were getting louder, showing sweet euphoric need, through with a loud, fast smack of his hips repeatedly finding your soiled cunt.

in combination with him stimulating you on many parts at once, you suddenly began to feel tense and sore, experience an abnormality like you can’t focus on anything, not on him, especially not on the pleasure that of course, was feeling amazing and well but it also didn't.

your heart was racing greatly and you started to sweat profoundly, cold, washed over sweat untangling over your spine and forehead. subtle hints, such as tapping his shoulder were getting you nowhere, and it only made your situation worse as time passed.

"xiao!" you cry out in an instant, not knowing what to do as his blows got even faster, pistoling into your tight pussy, thinking you're enjoying it as much as he did. "xiao, please stop!" and you squeal your safe word and panic one last time before he immediately stills himself, as if you turned off a switch in his brain, making him reach down to push you away.

his gaze hovers around your face, and that's when he saw it, crystal clear, your scrunched together expression that was signaling no sorts of pleasure and he couldn't settle on looking at you for too long, it was beginning to eat him from the very within and his chest was heavy, filled with stones that kept him chained to the ground, so he gets up to sit next to your quivering body.

xiao was speechless, did he really just inflict clear, hurting pain on the person he loved the utmost, more than himself for that matter.

his once, with pleasure glowing eyes, take on a haunted look, open wide in helpless circles, not knowing what to do. if he were the same person before he met you, he would've left and punished himself for what he did but he knew, he just knew that it would make this situation even worse. so he decided to stay, although he didn't say much at first, he did everything in his power to help you, when you so desired any help of him.

it's when he speaks for the first time, "i'm—" and gulps down, eyes burgeoning with tears yet they do not slip, "i am so sorry." his neck grew corded with tension, jaw evertight as he bites down on his cheeks, "so sorry, so sorry.."

"please don't leave me." he continues, xiao makes the tiniest noise in his voice, a worried hitch in his breathing, and for a moment you think he might be leaving you instead, starting to think again that he wasn't enough and that you do deserve better than him. but he settles back down, he doesn't leave and you would lie if you say it didn't surprise you.

you brush away the spilled, dried tears on your cheeks, "i could never leave you." and take his hand to kiss his knuckles, "it's okay."

— scaramouche

scaramouche had immense power, you knew of that and how strong and rough he could get. he easily hauls you off his throbbing cock to abruptly push you into the mattress, hovering on top of you now so he could look and read your sinful expressions, gather and indulge in them while you relish in him fucking you with his fully erected cock.

your bottom lip quivers, and tears had since long been rimming around the sides of your eyes and in any other cases it would be an implication that he was doing a good job, "fuck— fuck, that feels so good." he groans out, ramming his hips into your split hole and groaning out when you clench around his girth.

truth is, he was way too fast and needy with you tonight, making it not possible for you to catch a single breather as he uses your cunt as he pleases, taking you in and out and hoisting you back and forth his leaking member. by this time, you could barely look at him with a clear vision, tears parting from your lashes at last when you cry out in gulps and chokes— the stretch on your cunt aching and forming into anything else than pleasure.

while your first moans were fallen on deaf ears, those in particular that slipped past the tip of your tongue now, made his skin shiver.

"wait— no, no." he quickly pulls you off when you began to uncontrollably sob under him, really not knowing what had caused all of this. he was quick to brush away the tears on your face, "i'm— I'm sorry, please don't cry." his touch for now, had been completely different than just moments ago, now it's warm and soft again, understanding and full of sorrow.

he swallows dryly, unable to wet his parched throat, he hated himself very much right now, his muscles stiffened when you decide to look at him. "i'm sorry." you suddenly state, "this is so embarrassing." confusing him even more and archons knew why you were apologizing in the first place, because you absolutely shouldn't.

"don't." he pushes a warm blanket over your cold, shaking body, "don't apologize." he adds on, "you're not at fault, you hear me."

his eyes soften when you nod, searching for his touch, eyes blood shot but you really needed him to hug you right now as he pulled slow circles on your hips, opening his arms for you so you could easily rest your head on his chest. "i was too rough with you tonight, right?"

"i mean—" he quickly retracts his statement, panicking and smacking himself in his imagination, "that's not important, take your time, don't speak and take your time."

"wait, but you can speak.. if you want."

you answer back with a breathless laugh, placing him in an even more confused state but you would lie to yourself if you'd say he wasn't adorable in his stuttering and his desperate attempts to make you feel comforted. "can we lay like this for the night?"

"of course." he affirms you immediately, "you don't have to ask." silently grazing his hand from your hips to place it on your dampened cheek to cradle your face, sweetly kissing your forehead and smiling.

"everything you want."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #xiao smut #kazuha smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

[idlesana]

can i request a sana drabble!?

phone sex w r, when sana is too insatiable while away from r, and has to get herself off ;( gp btw!

gotchu, great prompt btw, and happy new year! this is a special for everyone before i go back to working on my long-fics

one call

gp minatozaki sana x female reader ; smut

summary: sana always has you for her needs, so what does she do when she doesn’t have you there?

sana wasn’t sana if not carrying herself with an insatiable libido.

it wasn’t her fault she was overflowing in lust, and it wasn’t like you’d complain, obviously. she just was how she was, and how she is, is needy, whether it’s total PG attention and pda, or, something more graphic.

and drunk sana wasn’t drunk sana if her horniess wasn’t multiplied by tenfold.

being a clingy kissy drunk was sure to cause her to become absolutely incurable when it became just the two of you, all twice functions ending with her keeping you up all night.

and this would’ve, been one of those occasions, if only her and the rest of j-line hadn’t had scheduling that kept her in japan over new year’s eve and day.

momo, luckily enough, had some connections to some parties local to the area, and sana almost gave in to fucking her (not like you’d mind— both you and sana had talked about your subtle attractions to the older japanese girl) but she’d slipped out of the party early to go to bed. lame.

so here sana was, beyond intoxicated, a bulge growing in her pants, leaving her needier than ever, and without you.

she knew she had to handle it before she was too far gone into her lust or drunkenness, so, she found herself scurrying to the luxurious yet minute bathroom, leaving her with no room, cramped, and ridiculously horny.

she leaned against the cool marble counter of the sink, fishing her phone out with shaky hands, messily inputting her passcode and scrolling to your contact, immediately hitting call.

sana placed her phone between her jaw and shoulder, holding it upright as she unzipped her pants, the ringing hurting her head.

she only managed to shimmy her pants down, not getting to the underwear before she had to give her irrationally painful erection some attention, stroking herself through her boxers, breaths growing heavy.

she didn’t even notice the ringing stopped, only clocking it once you greeted her.

“hello..?” your voice sounded gravely, but pitch still high, just how she liked. sana bit back a moan, stroking herself a little quicker.

“h-hey, pretty.” she stuttered, tone laced with lust and voice just as low. her heavy breaths were panted out into the phone, and you quickly realized what this call was about.

“hey, sana. did you need something?” you pushed up on your bed, leaning back against the headboard and clenching your thighs shut. you were playing dumb, you and sana both knew that, but that’s the route you’d take whenever sana called you like this.

“ ‘just wanted to hear how your day went, is all.” sana whined, quitting her stroking only to push her boxers beneath her balls, lifting her shirt up with her free hand, and letting her hard cock hit her stomach.

“ahhh,” you paused, stretching, garnering a light, airy moan out of yourself, which successfully made sana twitch, “i see.”

she let her pointer finger rub against her leaking tip, not holding back from moaning softly, moving to rub her palm over herself, gathering the precum to lube herself up.

“i’m okay, today was okay. i had a shoot.” you sighed, dreamily thinking of what your girlfriend was doing to herself, desperately trying to ignore the pulsing of your own nether region.

“oh yeah?” she finally, finally, moves to stroke herself, instantly moaning at the feeling, rubbing her hand up and down her length. “what were you wearing?” she squeezes her tip softly, whimpering out.

“hmm, well, i had some different outfits.” you listen to the increase in the speed of her breathing, savoring in the small, pretty whines she lets out. “the first one was a pretty little slip, backless, with some cute shoes and diamond jewelry.”

sana rubs herself faster, giving a small hum for you to keep going.

“and then the next one was a skirt and this nice corset top, cropped obviously” you pause, letting out a soft moan of your own as you stretched out once more, smiling softly to yourself.

sana runs her hand up to her tip, squeezing it softly as she moans, “a-ah! please,” she runs her hand down her length again, continuing with her motions, “please keep talking, b-baby.” her voice is whiny and cute, just how you liked her, and you could almost hear how turned on she was.

“the other outfits weren’t too interesting, but, it’s okay, what mattered was going to the hot tubs after with nayeon and jihyo unnie.”

the thought of you in a swimsuit alone has sana nearly doubling over, soft “oh fuck.” dropping from her lips in a whine.

“i took some photos all throughout the day of myself, if you wanted to see.”

sana moves quick, taking the hem of her shirt to her mouth, holding it up, as she turns the phone on speaker and swipes to your text conversation.

“yes please.” she mutters through the fabric, slowing her stroking to go back to teasing her tip, running her thumb over it.

“mmm, okay, baby.” you move quick too, scrolling through and picking only the best photo for sana, wanting her to get the relief as soon as possible.

you smile as you find one of you in the swimsuit, a selfie from above of you looking up at the camera, doe eyed, and your whole body was in frame, cleavage on very obvious display. you select it and one other, a mirror selfie of the same pretty swimsuit, perfectly highlighting your features. you send them both over, waiting for sana’s response. and you get it soon after, sana groaning out, which turns into a shakey moan, as she starts up stroking herself again.

“f-fuck, wow, you look so— mgh, so good.” she’s stroking herself quicker that before, now imagining fucking you, pounding into you just how she wants. she swears she can almost feel you, absolutely soaking her length and clenching against her.

“god, y/n, i need you.” she finally drops the sweet act, back arching as she makes subtle thrusts into her hand as it falls back on her.

“i can tell, wish you were here.” you mumble, your own arousal getting to you now. “want you in me, always so big, filling me so well.”

sana shudders, staring at the images, trying her hardest not to let her eyes flutter shut. she imagines just how you’d stretch on her, just how you’d moan beneath her as she had her way with you.

“f-fuck, i’d fuck you so— shit, so, so good.” she feels herself losing it, so close to release, and she whines out, “god, you’re so pretty baby.”

you whine right back, and it gets sana stroking herself even quicker, her own pre-cum rolling down her length, veins defined and just so hard.

“want it so bad, sa-chan, would want you to fill me up, want all that load in me.”

and that’s what does it for sana, her hips stutter and she thrust into her hand, moaning shamelessly now, curses falling from her lips heavenly as you can only listen, so, so frustrated. she spills out all over her hand, whimpering softly to herself as she strokes herself into sensitivity, having to stop her movements.

“thank you,” sana pants, letting her shirt drop and moving to clean her hand, “i miss you.”

“of course, sana. you know i miss you too, even more so after that.” you groan, rolling on your bed, ignoring the aching wetness forming in your underwear.

“hey, hey, don’t be upset, maybe i can help you after my party?” she chuckles, and you’re quick to respond.

“oh. definitely.”

she was in for quite the night.

#sana x reader #minatozaki sana x reader #twice sana x reader #sana scenarios #sana smut #sana imagine #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #twice imagine #twice imagines #twice sana smut #minatozaki sana smut #sana oneshot

[fluentmoviequoter]

hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood

Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

The Man Under the Hood

“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.

“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.

“She stayed through everything else.”

“We were friends then, it was different.”

Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”

“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”

“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.

The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.

“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."

Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.

“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.

“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.

“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”

Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.

“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”

“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.

“Me too,” you reply against his lips.

You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.

He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 

“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”

Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”

“Oh no.”

Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.

Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”

“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.

“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”

Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.

“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”

“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”

“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.

“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.

Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.

“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”

“Don’t.”

“Jaybird.”

“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”

“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”

“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”

Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”

Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”

“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”

“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.

Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.

Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.

He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”

It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”

You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.

Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.

Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.

Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.

Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.

As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.

“It’s me,” he adds.

Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.

As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 

If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.

Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”

You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.

“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.

He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.

“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.

He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.

“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”

Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.

“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”

Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.

“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 

“But what?” he asks quietly.

You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.

“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”

He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.

“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”

Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.

“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.

Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.

Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.

You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x reader #red hood #dc comics x reader #dc comics #fem!reader #requests

[clubkira]

POWER OUTAGE .ᐟ

── TETSURŌ KUROO. ┊ HAIKYUU!!

raining in japan m.list // haikyuu!! masterlist.

premise. thunderstorms scare you greatly. but thanks to your cute neighbour, you know you’ll be okay after all.

content. tetsurou kuroo / f!reader. fluff. reader is a scared of storms, mainly thunder. power outage. set ambiguously post highschool / university. neighbours to lovers.

word count. 3.1k

soundtrack. show me how : men i trust.

¹new message from jia ෆ hi i’m not dead yes i do still write !! @tetzoro @tetsuskei i hope i did your man justice ^_^

03:24

You manage to catch the flickering lights of your dining room’s lamp glitch out repeatedly from the corner of your eye, the lights inside your dingy apartment appearing to go haywire as constant streams of raindrops pound against the glass of your windows.

With each passing second they seem to multiply tenfold of the previous, their impact upon crashing into each other sometimes merging with one another in sync to form a continuous stream of running water trickling down the brick walls of your complex instead of the constant buzz of millions of tiny water droplets.

The soft glow from your lamp dims momentarily before coming to a complete halt. Your hopes are quickly dashed when you see it attempt to start back up again before going dead, and after a few seconds of the darkness swallowing your apartment whole a begrudging sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook.

“Ah, damn it . . . not again . . .”

You slowly stand up from your seat at the dining table, cautiously pushing your chair back just a little as to not hit the rest of your furniture and carefully maneuvering your way through the dark of your living room.

“Where the hell did I put that flashlight . . . ?”

You really should’ve thought to charge your phone and powerbank ahead of time when you heard a thunderstorm was making it’s way to your city on the news earlier. Now with a dead cellphone battery and empty powerbank you’re left to fend for yourself amist the unknown layout of your apartment without a light source.

Scuffling around in the dark, you take a step forward, miscalculating how much distance there is infront of you as you find yourself accidentally ramming your shin against the side of your unusually hard bookshelf, sending you reeling in agonizing pain stomach first and flopping right onto your couch.

Ouch.

Your teeth grind against each other as you hold your shin, wincing while rocking slightly in an attempt to alleviate the pain. “God, that did not sound good . . .” You can’t see through the near pitch black lowlight of your apartment, but you’re almost certain a nasty bruise may have begun to form on your skin from that.

A few more minutes of stumbling finally merits you to where you had originally intended to end up in the first place— the supply closet. Feeling around for the door’s surface your hand manages to find it’s grip onto the smooth metal handle, twisting it open and carefully reaching out into the darkness.

“It should be on the second shelf . . . or was it the third? Fuck, I really can’t see anything right now . . .”

Your fingers brush up against the elastic wrist tie of the flashlight (it was on the third shelf after all, go figure) and you impatiently snatch it from off the pile of other assorted junk you’ve haphazardly thrown in there throughout the years.

All you hear is a soft click as you turn on the device before your eyes are bombarded by a bright flash, the sudden overload causing you to stumble back a bit, blinking repeatedly to soothe the burn in the back of your retinas.

Maybe it’s not the best idea to hold a flashlight so close to your face while it’s aiming (or pointed) directly into your eyes.

Using your newly gained lightsource you make your way to the fuse box in your kitchen, now being able to easily navigate your way through the dark you give yourself a moment to stop and glare at the corner of your bookshelf that you’d run into earlier, “Asshole.”

Opening the fuse box, you shine the light onto the many circuits housed within, eyes trailing down and scanning each one for the labels of what light they control. You experimentally switch the one for the living room on, glancing outside of your kitchen into the hall to check, only to be met with disappointment as you see the nothingness of the night staring right back at you.

Just as a confirmation (and because you’re stubborn), you switch a couple more of the circuits on and off repeatedly, disappointment mares your features when they yield no results. “No power at all . . .”

A deep crackle of thunder booms from the sky outside, startling you as you nearly drop the flashlight in your hands if not for the wrist tie securing it. A few seconds of heaving and checking outside your kitchen’s windows— only to see more rain than you could ever possibly need in three lifetimes —causes you to ease up a little. You feel a chill run down your bare arms though, the short sleeves and pajama shorts you chose to wear tonight not doing much with the raging wind howling just outside your apartment.

The sudden sounds of gentle knocking at your door cuts through the silence of your empty apartment, the hairs on your back shooting straight up in surprise. You cautiously make your way over to the door, uneasy as your hands hesitate to lay on the knob. Who else could be up at this late hour?

Your eyes squint through the tiny peephole of your door, zoning in on a familiar head of messy black hair, donned in a worn out old highschool volleyball hoodie. With noticeable bags underneath his eyes matching your own, you can tell he’s been staying up as late as you have.

You can’t quite see much or well for that matter through the tiny peephole’s space, but he patiently waits outside with an uneasy look on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and pacing around anxiously on the small space on your door mat.

With your heart rate spiking back down to normal levels, you slowly open the door to him. He jumps back a little when he sees you in front of him, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually be awake. You give him a polite smile.

“Hey, Kuroo.”

He chuckles a little, bringing his hands out of his pockets. You notice the pearly whites of his canines poking out from his lips when he grins. It suits him well. “You know it’s okay to just call me Tetsurou.”

“Right, right. My bad.”

“‘You doing alright?” He asks you worriedly, craning his head aside to check the dark of your apartment. “Heard the entire building’s power just got wiped by the storm. ‘Was told it won’t be back for another few hours.”

Of course it won’t be back for awhile, the electricians can’t really do much while the thunderstorm rages outside. You doubt anyone in the building who was asleep by now would even notice there had been a power outage tonight, most people aren’t awake at the acceptable hours of 3AM working on their overly procrastinated capstone assignment anyways to even care about the torrential rain pouring outside their windows.

“Can I come inside?” Tetsurou asks before stopping himself, backtracking hurriedly while making funny hand gestures. What was that sign he just made? It might’ve meant Apple in JSL. “I mean, if it’s okay with you. I know it’s late and all, and that you probably want to sleep but I—“

You cut him off with a giggle of your own, “Tetsurou,” his cheeks dust a light shade of pink in the darkness. Your laughter. It sounds like bells to him, akin to the raindrops that hit your windows with a light tinkle each time they fall from the clouds above. Wind chimes in the raging storm that falls around you two and lighting crackles behind him, illuminating your bright face for him.

“I don’t mind, you can come inside. You must be cold standing out here, I know I am and I’m just in the doorway.” You take him by the hand, his skin’s cold just as you expected from the frigid air as you guide him into your apartment.

He stumbles a bit through the front door “H— hey!” trying to remove his shoes by the entrance and lay them by the door mat, bringing with him two large blankets tucked under his arms you hadn’t noticed him carrying in the darkness.

Tetsurou’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness, squinting and zoning in on the little stack of books piled up at your desk, the flashlight you were using placed just beside an open notebook. “You’re still trying to work on that assignment?” He asks, setting the blankets down on a chair as you slide into your own, clicking the flashlight on and shining it down on your pages.

“Yeah, it’s due soon.”

“There’s a storm outside.” He comments on matter of factly, chin folded into the crook of his hands as he leans on the backside of the chair. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the obviousness of the situation.

“And?”

“Just, come here.” You feel his hand reach out into the darkness, standing you up from the table with mild disagreement from you, “Relax with me a little, let’s go sit on your couch together. I brought blankets for a reason.”

“I can use one while working at the dinner table.”

The frown that tugs at Tetsurou’s lips is barely noticeable in the dark, but he whines audibly. “That sounds uncomfortable, though.”

“It’s fine.”

“Isn’t it better to huddle together for warmth?” He suggests playfully, “Y’know, no power n’ heat.”

You think his compromise over for a moment, and he senses the hesitation brewing inside your mind. “I promise it’ll be good.” Lighting flashes outside your window for a split second, followed by the loud seismic boom of thunder that causes you to flinch in his hold. Instinctively he jumps, pulling you into a hug as your heavy breathing fills the silence of your apartment. Seconds tick by on the clock hanging on your wall, as it seems like the heartbeats of both you and Tetsurou meld into one beat.

“Are you . . .” Tetsurou looks out the window for a moment, his voice drawls on low and quiet even though the only two people here are you and him, as if he’s about to ask something he shouldn’t. “Are you scared of thunder?”

“. . . No.”

“That sounds like a yes to me.”

“I’m an adult,” You huff, trying to break out of his hold and back to your pile of due papers, “I don’t get scared by thunder like a little kid.” Tetsurou barely catches the “anymore” you mutter underneath your breath. His hold on you not only tightens but he drags you to the couch, much to your protests and complaints.

“You’re not a very good liar,” he grins, plopping you down beside him before reaching over you to drape a thick blanket over your shivering body, were you always this cold? You try to move your hands to lift the blanket off, to stand up but it’s heavy. It traps your arms underneath it, feeling like he condemned you to the couch.

“Is this blanket weighted?” You ask and he hums, draping the other one he bought over himself with a relaxed sigh. “Yeah, I’ve found they’re really good for rainy nights.” You can’t deny that now that you’ve gotten a taste, having this is almost like having a barrier from the cold rain and air outside, and you’re already warmer than you were just a few moments ago.

You wrap it tighter around your body, the fabric smells like him. “Thanks, Tetsurou.” Another crackle of lighting blasts inside your living room through the window, peeking through the gap of your curtains as thunder follows closely in suit. It’s louder this time, and seemed to be a lot closer to your apartment than the others. Your hands slam over the cups of your ears to shield them from the thunderous booms, they feel weighed down by the heavy blanket as you bury your head into the thick material, closing them as like an extra precaution from the storm outside.

You don’t even realize you’re shaking until you feel a hand smooth over you back. Tetsurou’s.

You can barely make out his voice with your hands blocking your hearing, “Are you okay?” It’s muffled and quiet, and his hand rubs soothing circles into your back as you barely manage to move your head to a nod. More thunder comes and Tetsurou’s eyesbrows knit together as you frantically switch to shaking your head no, feeling it drop further into the blanket in shame. Your heart in sync as the storm outside won’t stop taunting you.

The small raindrops that crash against your window feel like they’re right up against your ears, the bright lighting that races across the sky’s edge stings your eyes to look at it, even if you shut them as tight as can be. And that god awful thunder, the thunder that makes you feel like your dingy apartment might crumble underneath it’s roar, crashing to the floors below as the trees outside cave in on you from above.

“This is so embarrassing . . .” Tetsurou hears you mutter as you lift your head to the side to face him, fear is written all over your features and you look like you’re about to cry in the presence of your next-door neighbour. Your voice cracks, and you think you’d prefer if the floor underneath you did fall through after all. “I just really hate storms . . .”

A weak chuckle escapes your lips as you wipe away the tears that prick at your eyes, attempting to lighten up the situation for Tetsurou. You don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by crying in front of him when you were the one who invited him in, “I guess I really am still a little kid, afraid of thunder and lighting like I’m still four.”

Tetsurou doesn’t laugh at your self deprecating jab, and you feel your stomach drop at the lack of a response. Would you have preferred if he laughed? No, not really— but it felt awkward to have only silence between the two of you in the heat of the moment. His hazel eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness when he blinks, and he wraps an arm around you before pulling you into his chest, you let out an alarmed squeak involuntarily from his actions, and the heartbeat in your chest magnifies to the sound of the thunder that you’re so scared of outside.

His own heartbeat is loud too, now that he has you leaning on his chest like this. The wild thumping and beating, is that from you? You feel stupid for getting excited over that possibility, but as you look up from your spot you catch his eyes, tired and still beautiful as both his arms envelope you in a deep hug. He covers your ears with the palms of his hands, red crawls up the skim of his neck and ears in the darkness.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you quietly, flinching when you snuggle deeper into his chest, the scent of his home shirt being the same as the one on the blanket he brought over but stronger. The smell of clean linen from his laundry detergent sticks to the material of his shirt, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out “Did you just do the laundry before coming over?”

This time it’s his turn to laugh nervously, “Yeah . . .” his head rests atop yours, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It fills his senses, it’s not overpowering or overwhelming at all.

Maybe because it’s you.

“I didn’t want to smell bad when I came over . . . Is that— is that bad?”

“. . . No,” you decide, a content smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not.”

Suddenly the loud sounds of the storm that had you once afraid and cowering in fear seem to drown out from Tetsurou’s cupped hands over your ears, but you know they’re just as strong now than they were earlier, and perhaps even stronger as the night drags on. But in Tetsurou’s embrace, underneath the blankets he brought from home that smell just like him, wrapped up in his arms and snuggled up against his chest; you think you’ll be okay.

“Stay with me,” you eke out without thinking, and a part of you hopes he didn’t hear because you’re worried you’ll ruin the tranquility of whatever you have now— that this moment is only temporary, all will be over by tomorrow morning when the technicians come to fix the apartment’s power outage at 6AM, and you’ll both go back to treating each other as just neighbours. That you’ll pretend you never snuggled together when you had no power and no heat, and you never said the words you’re about to say to him now. “Please, don’t go . . .”

To your surprise, a soft kiss is pressed to the crown of your forehead as Tetsurou’s wild hair tickles at your skin, the erratic beat of his heart thumping wildly in your eardrums. He looks just as nervous as you do, lips suddenly dry and throat closed up when he tries to speak. After a disgruntled groan, the two of you laugh as once more does lightning flash across the sky, with thunder coming in it’s place moments later, hand in hand as always. Just as you expected.

But this time you’re not scared, not when he next whispers out the words you’ve longed to hear since you were a little kid during these storms, not when he cuddles you closer to his chest and brings his lips close to yours before tilting your chin up and capturing you in the sweetest of kisses, his lips perfectly molding to fit yours as he mutters in between the short breaths of air with a smile that rivals the brightness of the lighting you were so scared to gaze into from outside the windows.

“I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry.”

Raindrops continue to fall from outside, thunder and lightning work as a terrifying duo in sync as they torment the nature. But it all seems significantly less scary now. Underneath the onslaught of rain, the continuous lightning and thunder you’ve feared since childhood, the annoying lack of power— you found something able to strike against even the worst of thunderstorms, and something better to indulge your night in than your assignments that lay long forgotten beside your flashlight on the dining table far away from you and Tetsurou on the couch, warm underneath the blankets together bundled up to escape the cold air.

You found Tetsurou Kuroo.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

2024 © property of CLUBKIRA. all rights reserved. no reposts · plagiarism · edits · stealing · translations etc. thank you !! 𐚁

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #tetsuro kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo fluff #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x female reader #haikyu imagines #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu oneshot #( 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝒻 : 𐚁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒞𝓁𝓊𝒷 ) #𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝓃’. 𝒯𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓈 ෆ

[transmascissues]

hi! so I have my top surgery date in a little over a month and I've noticed that my dysphoria around my chest has like,, multiplied tenfold since I got the date confirmed. its getting to be a Problem. is this normal? shouldn't dysphoria be reducing now that there's like a guaranteed solution incoming? if this is normal that's fine but I've not heard anyone mention it to me before

you would think it would be reduced, but i also had an increase instead. i think it is normal, or at least not an uncommon experience.

for me it was like…before i had the date, i just had to indefinitely live with my chest being there. and i got pretty good at ignoring it and just living my life with it, because the alternative was misery with no end in sight and i did that for a while and it was not sustainable (as in, it was quite literally almost the end of me). so i found ways to cope and just live my life with the dysphoria essentially as white noise, hanging around in the background but not too intrusive most of the time.

but then, once i got my date, there was an end in sight! it wasn’t just a life of ceaseless misery that waited for me if i didn’t learn to live with it. and on top of that, there was the impatience of “oh my god why can’t it just happen now why do i have to wait longer i’ve been waiting long enough these are the longest months of my life”. and those two things mixed together in my brain to make a lot of the dysphoria i’d learned to cope with come back with a vengeance. time always seems to go by slower when you’re looking forward to something in the future, and knowing i had a date for getting rid of the source of that dysphoria gave my brain permission to feel it in the meantime.

i’ve never really seen anyone talk about this either but i’d guess it’s probably a pretty common thing. i definitely feel like waiting for my date to arrive once i had it was harder than waiting to get it in the first place. anticipation sure is a bitch.

#ask answered #top surgery adventures #trans man #transmasc #top surgery #gender dysphoria #chest dysphoria

[spacecowboyhotch]

Blossoms & Whiskers

prompt: painting

pairing: jake lockley x f!reader

contents: anxiety, a couple kisses, avoidant love confessions

wc: 1.1k

an: the first of hopefully many promotional fics for the @moonknight-events’ bingo @juneknight & i have going on right now. DISCLAIMER: as a event runner i will not be entered in the drawing for prizes. this is promotional only.

SP BINGO 2024 | moonknight masterlist

As soon as you enter the flat you know who’s fronting. There’s the faint smell of paint wafting through the space and the covered canvas that Jake keeps easeled in the living room is gone. The window to the fire escape is open and there’s a mason jar full of murky water in your view. His hand appears, dipping and swirling the brush.

“Jake?” You yell as you kick off your shoes and hang up your light jacket.

“Out here. I’ll be in in 20,” He calls back distractedly through the window, hand disappearing.

You’d never seen Jake paint, it was something he’d picked up in the last few months and something preferred to do on his own, like many other things in his life. But, you always like to imagine the expression on his face. Brown eyes under a furrowed brow, intense and scrutinizing as always. His nose scrunched in concentration, the tip of tongue sticking out the corner of his full mouth like it does when the two of you play Jenga. The lines he paints are as sharp and precise as the lines of his body.

You peg him for a structured modernist, dependent on clear contrast and definite shapes. One day you hope to no longer guess, you hope that he’ll share even the smallest bit of his art with you.

You decide to take a quick shower and put on a kettle for some tea. By the time he’s slinking through the window carefully with the canvas, you’re curled up on the couch with a book. His eyes linger on you, enjoying how incredibly cozy you look.

“Took longer than expected,” He explains as he sets the painting back on the easel, turning it away from you.

You don't look up when you respond, “It's alright, honey. Cover it up and come snuggle.”

Jake is quiet for a handful of moments, unmoving. Finally he says, “It's finished.”

Your eyes freeze on the page, but you don’t move. Your interest in piqued. “Oh?”

“It’s for you. I’d like you to see it.”

“Are you sure?” You ask gently.

“I’m sure. Always sure about you,” He adds his voice is still quiet, but firm.

You grin, throwing your book on the floor as you stand, uncaring about what page you were on. Jake was sharing this with you. For a moment you wonder if he’s shared this with Marc or Steven at all– they’d mentioned giving his privacy. But if he was sharing this with you, certainly he’d shared it with them.

“Eyes closed,” He instructs, and you quickly follow suit. “Good girl.”

With your eyes covered, you can hear your own breath more clearly, hear the quiet drag of the easel against the wood floor. Hear his quiet, even steps.

His hands come to rest on your waist, and you feel his mouth brush the shell of your ear as he whispers. “Open for me.”

You open your eyes to rows upon rows of your favorite flower. The sun hangs low in the sky, just beginning to dip below the horizon, a few clouds dotting around. It’s much brighter than you ever imagined. Jake is a conglomerate of neutrals and darks, leather and basics. To see so much color, such an obvious lightness from his own hands stuns you. As you take more in, you see a black cat frolicking through the stems, batting at one of the flowers. Its eyes shine mischievously.

It’s your turn to fall quiet, your eyes whisking over the canvas time and time again, drinking in all you can.

“Don’t comment too quickly,” He says dryly, his hands squeezing your hips.

“Oh, Jake, its beautiful,” You breathe softly, taking a small step forward to examine it in further detail, wanting to see each and every stroke.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, that comfortable warmth that you bring to his chest multiplying tenfold. “You think so?” He asks, trying to sound noncommittal.

“I know so. Is this cat supposed to be ours?” You point to it, grinning up at him. He’d mentioned his want for cat a few times, but it wouldn’t be a possibility until the lease was up so that you all could move to a pet friendly place.

Jake hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering to you before they return to the canvas. Jake was the last of the boys to come around. Your relationship is the newest, and though it is no less sweet, no less passionate sometimes he struggles to be open with you. You’re patient, knowing that every piece of the man standing beside you is worth waiting for.

“It's supposed to be me,” He admits quietly.

“You?”

“The cat is me, and everything else…is you.”

“Me?”

He grows quiet again, trying to figure out what to say. He so desperately wants you to understand. You gaze up at him, watching as he mulls things over, gathering up the words to tell you what this all means to him. What you mean to him.

“Its me, basking in everything that is you. You love the sunset, you love pointing out shapes in the clouds. You love these flowers. There’s more there, more intention that I could explain. But I hope that one day, the cat, that you’ll—“ He stops, realizing that he’d got too carried away. He was about to show all his cards.

You raise a hand to cup his cheek tenderly, “I do. I do already, Jake. It’s easy.”

His gaze grows more intense as he studies you, searching for any dishonesty. There’s not a drop in your eyes. “Me too.”

Jake didn’t know it could be this easy. Sure neither of you have said the words outright, but he can feel it in the way you look at him right now. You lean in, closing the gap between you to press a soft kiss to his mouth before, one he gets lost in. And when you pull away, you simply turn back to the painting. Your hands reach out, fingers wiggling and his hand darts out, grasping yours.

“It’s still wet,” He reminds you, squeezing your hand gently before he lets it go.

“Right, sorry,” You murmur sheepishly.

All of this has you feeling a little shy— held but with hands that are afraid you’ll break. You could ask him to say it, you could say it yourself but you know that things are the slowest with him. Sometimes you have to treat him like the cat he’s painted. He’ll spook easily, retreating into solitude.

You tuck the idea of asking for more in your back pocket. Another time. Instead you ask, “So…where are we hanging it?”

Jake relaxes. He knows your thinking face, could see you weighing the pros and cons. It feels good to know how you feel about him and even better to know how well you know him.

He drops a kiss on your forehead before moving towards the fireplace. “I was thinkin’ here.”

“I’ll go get those sticky strip thingies,” You say, marching towards the closer that holds everything from spare linens, holiday decorations and yes— sticky strip thingies.

“Command strips,” Jake corrects you, snorting softly under his breath.

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x f!reader #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight fanfiction #moonknightevents #arson writes

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

may i request mini headcanons for an MC that gives out praise constantly but vehemently denies praise when they receive it themself. thought it’d be interesting since a lot of the LIs give out praise a lot :3

The Arcana Mini-HCs: MC who praises but refuses to be praised

Julian: is used to being praised but is not used to receiving praise from somebody he believes knows him for who he really is. becomes determined to make you see yourself as wonderfully as he sees you

Asra: this is going to turn into the deflection Olympics. they'll see this as a cue to help you accept and believe good things about yourself, but it's fun watching him falter over the same affirmations

Nadia: poor self-esteem, huh? not on her watch. be prepared for her love of flustering you to multiply tenfold. she will call you on your hypocrisy if you refuse to accept praise while giving it out

Muriel: he gets flustered just from noticing you looking at him. when he notices your own habits, though, he'll start quietly saying "you too" after compliments and giving you a Look if you start to deny them

Portia: she's very fond of exposure therapy. good luck denying a small compliment, because she's only going to ramp up the praises until you accept the initial small one (and then kiss you 'cause she's proud)

Lucio: here's the funny thing about him: he's quite secure in his own ego, but he sees his value as indirectly tied to yours, so any time you turn down a compliment he's doubly offended for both of you

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[murdrdocs]

i feel like mike is ALWAYS so grumpy,

him with his obnoxious sister and girlfriend is just so canon to me sigh

oh he absolutely is (also i blacked out and wrote 600 words of pure delusion ??? im so sorry i rlly have a problem omg)

first off, sleeping sans pills is a little hard for him for the first month or so. it’s hard for him to fall asleep and stay asleep, so he spends a chunk of the night just laying and staring at the ceiling where his nebraska poster used to be, waiting for sleep to find him instead of searching for it. when he actually gets up in the morning, his body just feels like he’d gotten hit by a bus, evidence of his restless night showing up all over the place.

and abby, as kind as she is, just doesn’t know when to shut up. mikes pouring them both a bowl of cereal and abby just continues talking about any and every single thing under the sun, completely oblivious to the agony her older brother is in. mike tries to be patient, he hums between his yawns as he fills her bowl with milk, he blinks lazily at her as she keeps talking. but at a certain point enough is enough and the cereal is a little stale and mike was really looking forward to a nice bowl of cereal to give him energy for the day but everything is shit right now so he ends up politely (at least as best as he can) asking abby to stop talking.

he thinks that by the time you’re supposed to come over later in the afternoon, he’ll feel better. he doesn’t have work until a few hours after breakfast, and he uses the time to take a shitty nap on the couch. a nap that’s disrupted by the doorbell ringing entirely too loud, followed by abby’s excited screech which alerts him of your arrival. he’s happy to see you, but he’s tired as shit and now he has to go work a dead end job and he can barely manage to paint an appreciative smile on his face when you walk him to his car and promise that you and abby will have fun.

by the time he gets back after work, the sun has set and it’s a few hours past traditional dinner time. the lights in the house are still on and when he enters he hears a movie playing. he’s so tired he only wants to take a shower and sleep but he knows you’ll refuse to let him do just that until he’s eaten, which ends up with all three of you at the table, you and abby having dessert while mike slowly makes his way through dinner.

he’s nodding off the entire time, and he’s sure he would’ve knocked out face first in his slice of pizza if you and abby weren’t talking his head off. you bounce off of each other like you’re playing an exciting match of ping pong, mikes head going back and forth as he attempts to follow a conversation with no real connections.

and to make matters worse, you’re both on mikes case, too, cracking jokes and being far too concerned and it’s too much for his tired head and his grumpiness just multiplies tenfold until he takes a final bite out of his pizza and storms down the hall to take a shower.

(of course, you find him when he’s slipping a shirt over his head after his shower in his room, hair dripping onto the cotton and flinging onto the carpet when he turns to look at you. he apologizes, tells you about how sleepy he’s been, and kisses you good night. but he’s still a Grumpy Guy, despite the chronic exhaustion)

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #five night's at freddy's #mschmidtsworld!

[tarotwithlove]

pac ♡ a short message from your guides

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · TWITTER · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated

GROUP ONE

“let go of the old story and of the life you once lived. you want so much more for yourself but do not make any attempt to go towards it.

you want so much more for yourself but you ignore our signs and messages because you are too afraid to leave the comfort of the life you have built.

do you want to be on your deathbed wishing you had lived your life for yourself? do you want to wake up every day and wish you had been brave enough to take a chance? to push yourself? to endure the difficulty that came with change?

we know how much you wish for change, and how much you ignore it. we are trying to bring your dream life to you but there is only so much we can do—and only so much we are willing to do before we stop trying entirely.

the greatness of your fear is almost admirable. some of us understand you, you must know that dear. some of our lives were so controlled by that same fear, asking ourselves every night, “what if my family no longer accepts me? what if i regret it? what if? what if? what if?”. until one day you wake up and you realise you have let your entire life pass you by. we want more than this for you.

we want you to live not just wish to live. we want you to want to live, so much that you fight for it”

GROUP TWO

“you are still struggling to find balance in your life. we are proud of you for how much you have overcome; how much you have healed; how much you have grown.

of course, we are proud, how could we not be? we recognize that at times our lessons were a bit too harsh for your heart, but there was no other way. you’re a bit stubborn to our messages, so if we have to take some extreme methods to get across to you, we will. and we have. and you have moved above all of the obstacles we’ve placed before you with ease.

the uncertainties and stresses and heartbreaks… all these lessons… and look at you now. we cannot help but look upon you with pride.

though, dear, there is still a need for you to try and find balance in your life. you are either too focused on work or too focused on love, and can never find a happy medium between these two things.

you long for love and connection but can you manage a relationship on top of all your other responsibilities? especially in a new connection with someone you have wanted to be with in this way for so long?

we know more than you can ever imagine but we only guide you so much. don’t just plunge into things without thinking them through. balance, remember?”

GROUP THREE

“your potential is limitless, more limitless than anyone could ever explain to you or that you could ever truly know and understand—especially right now.

you have so many dreams and you wonder how you are going to achieve all of them; wondering even as you persist in the knowledge that you will achieve everything you decide you will.

we have watched you through every moment of your life, and we are so moved by your will to live; your will to have better than anyone could ever imagine for you; your will to do anything but accept the life you have been given. don’t worry. you will have it all.

every effort you put in is being multiplied tenfold behind the scenes on our part. more than that. so much more than that. don’t focus on the hows or whys or whens, just know that you will be rewarded for all that you have done and are doing. and never, ever, worry that your manifestations and prayers are going unheard and not listened to.

for now, enjoy the little moments of the life that exists around you.

you will miss this peace and quiet when it’s gone.”

GROUP FOUR

“you may not want to admit it but that connection ending was the best thing that could have ever happened for you and your life.

and that is right: for you, not to you, because even when you felt like your life was falling apart it was just falling into place. and you are seeing so right now.

remember how tired you were every day, how tethered you felt, how unsure you were if you should have been following your mind or heart. how you woke up every day conflicted and went to bed riddled with guilt. how you wondered if you should have stayed or if you should have let go.

but you were strong enough to let go, and that should let you know that you are strong enough to do anything. you did not believe this before, always going along with the flow and shooting low out of fear that actually reaching for the things you want would do nothing but hurt you, and while it was a bit harsh to teach you the lesson in this way it was needed.

but… we also fear that we have made you too afraid to try at love again. there is only so much that we can say that is going to ease your pain and uncertainty, but know that every risk worth taking is a risk that is worth getting hurt for.

know that you will never know the true outcome of a connection and you cannot spend the rest of your life running away from potential happiness out of fear of potential heartache.

be brave in the way we know that only you can be.”

#tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a group #pick an image #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #channelled message #**