#‘of course it’s not that serious; nothing IS! but because we’re human we have to pick a few things to care about’

[chrissturnioloshoe]

Bored and horny - C.S

Smut - Chris and Y/n have been best friends for years but what happens when they’re both bored and horny together?

Chris and I have been best friends for years and I’ve obviously thought about him in more of a friend way. I mean who can blame me? He’s hot as fuck. We have a very flirty relationship but we also joke around a lot so it’s hard to differentiate if the flirting is serious or not.

I lay on Chris’s bed next to him as we both scroll aimlessly on our phones in a comfortable silence, which is unusual for us because normally we can never shut the fuck up. I don’t mind it though, it’s not an awkward silence it’s quite nice actually.

For some reason I’ve felt unbelievably horny all day, which for me isn’t unusual but why now? All I want to do is get my back blown out by the nearest human with a dick, which just happens to be Chris. But he’s my best friend, wouldn’t that be weird? He probably doesn’t even like me like that anyway, we’ve been friends for so long it would just be wrong. Or would it?

I roll on to my back as I put my phone down and let out a sigh, which catches Chris’s attention. He looks up from his phone at me as I stare up at his ceiling, my mind being took over by impure thoughts of my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks, snapping me out of my daydream. I turn my head to face him, my eyes capturing his beautiful blue ones.

“Nothing. I’m just horny” I say blatantly. He chuckles at my bluntness but it’s nothing he isn’t used to after being friends with me for so many years.

“Same” Chris says still chuckling as he puts his phone down.

“I haven’t had a good fuck in like forever” I whine.

“Yeah me too” Chris says as I turn to face him. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, my mind going back to all those impure thoughts. I wonder if Chris has ever thought of me in that way before? I wonder what he’s thinking of right now? Is he thinking the same things as I am?

“You know what I think we should do?” Chris says, ripping me away from my thoughts.

“What?” I ask smiling, hoping whatever he is thinking of saves me from my boredom and horniness.

“Well…since we’re both horny…and we’ve got nothing else to do…” Chris begins to say, still looking deeply in my eyes.

“Yeah?…” I ask skeptically, my heart beginning to beat faster as I let him continue with his idea.

“Why don’t we just fuck?” Chris says. “As friends of course” He adds. I take a moment to comprehend what Chris is asking me, our faces inching closer and closer to each others.

“Well I guess…if it’s just as friends…” I begin to say as I feel Chris’s body shift on top of mine.

“Is that a yes?” Chris asks, now fully on top of me.

“Yeah, I mean why not? We’re both bored and horny right?” I say as I wrap my arms around Chris’s neck. I mean what could go wrong? We’re just two best friends doing a favour for each other, right?

“Right” Chris says, agreeing with my previous statement before placing his lips on mine. The kiss starts off soft and gentle, our lips moving in sync. Chris’s tongue swipes across my bottom lip before sliding into my mouth. I reciprocate this action and our tongues explore each other’s mouth as the kiss becomes deeper.

I run my hand through Chris’s hair as our kiss intensifies. I feel myself getting wetter and wetter by the moment as our kiss starts to become messy. He groans into the kiss as I wrap my legs around his waist grinding my hips into his. Chris pulls away from the kiss and starts kissing my neck, sucking and biting skin, enough to leave marks but not enough to hurt me.

I moan slightly as Chris sucks the sweet spot on my neck making me tilt my head back to allow him more access. I never thought I would be doing this with him, but here we are and I’m certainly not complaining.

Chris pulls at the hem of my shirt and looks into my eyes for reassurance, I nod my head eagerly which makes him chuckle as he pulls my shirt off in one swift motion.

I see Chris’s eyes light up as he stares at my bare chest. His hand goes straight to my boob, grabbing and squeezing it as his head dives down to suck on my nipple. I let out a soft moan as I feel his tongue swirling around my nipple before sucking it, leaving my nipple hard.

I feel my clit starting to throb as I begin to get even more wet. I grind my hips up trying to create any sort of friction between my legs as I become more needy. Chris kisses and sucks the skin around my nipples, leaving purple and green marks on my skin.

“You’re so beautiful” Chris whispers between kisses as he works his way down my stomach all the way down to the waistband of my shorts. Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the sound of Chris’s compliment.

Chris pulls my shorts off leaving me in noting but my hot pink thong. He opens my legs and starts kissing in between my thighs. His mouth creeps closer and closer to where I need him most, he stops momentarily to suck on the skin dangerously close to my core.

“Please Chris” I whine as I become more and more impatient.

“Please what? What do you want me to do” Chris says with a smirk before leaving a quick kiss to my clothed clit.

“Literally anything” I whine. Chris smirks before pulling my underwear off and throwing it into the pile of my clothes. My legs automatically close as a sense of nervousness washes over me. I’m not usually a nervous person when it comes to sex and I’m completely comfortable with Chris so I don’t know what’s come over me.

“Open your legs baby let me see that pretty pussy” Chris says. I open my legs for him as he takes in the sight beneath him. He leans back down and starts kissing the area around my clit, teasing me and making me whine out his name.

Chris runs his fingers through my wetness, spreading it around my core before attaching his lips with my clit. He sucks my clit making me moan his name as he begins to swirl his tongue around.

“You taste so good baby” Chris says as he continues swirling his tongue around my clit. His hands squeeze my thighs as my legs wrap around his head. He begins to flick his tongue on my clit, driving me insane as I moan out his name.

“Fuck” I moan as Chris’s tongue lays flat on my clit, licking a long stripe up. His fingers come into contact with my hole as he inserts his middle and ring finger inside. He fucks his fingers into me at a fast pace as he curls them upwards inside of me, hitting the perfect spot. He traces his tongue across my clit as my back arches slightly and I begin to tug on Chris’s hair.

Chris’s arm comes up to press down gently on my lower stomach, intensifying my pleasure. I feel myself clench around Chris’s fingers as I feel a familiar knot in my stomach form.

“Feels good baby?” Chris says as he continues eating me out. My eyes roll to the back of my head as my mind begins to go blank. The only thing I can focus on is the amount of pleasure Chris is giving me.

“Fuck yeah Chris” I moan as his tongue brushes against my clit and his fingers hit the perfect spot repeatedly. “Fuck I’m gonna cum”

I tug on Chris’s hair as I feel my legs begin to shake and my body start to shudder. I let out a series of high pitched moans as Chris’s fingers and tongue work at rhythmic pace, causing an overwhelming amount of pleasure to wash over me as I release on Chris’s fingers.

Chris leaves one final kiss to my clit as he pulls his fingers out of me and sucks them clean. I pant as I come down from my high, I swear I can see stars. Chris crawls back up my body and connects his lips with mine. I can taste myself in him as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. I cup his jaw and pull him closer to me as we indulge in a messy and wet kiss. Our tongues slide around each others mouths as we softly bite each others lips.

I tug on the hem of Chris’s shirt hoping he takes the hint, which he does. He pulls his shirt off quickly and then leans back down to kiss my neck and play with my nipples. I caress his back as I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding my hips into his very prominent hard on.

I bring my hand round and dip into into Chris’s pants, stroking his hard dick which makes him groan in my ear. He presses his clothes dick into core repeatedly as he moans softly in my ear. He pulls back and kneels between my legs, his hands roaming around my body. His thumb swipes across my clit momentarily as I look up at him with lustful eyes.

“You’re so perfect Y/n” Chris says before taking his pants and boxers off. My eyes follow every movement he makes as I watch him stroke his dick a few times. I never thought I would get to see Chris’s dick, it’s bigger than I thought it would be. He catches me staring and looks up at me with a smirk.

“See something you like baby?” Chris chuckles teasingly. My cheeks flush a shade of pink as I quickly look away.

“Fuck off Chris” I say jokingly. Chris grabs my thighs and pulls me towards him.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asks as he looks up at me.

“Yeah, I do” I say with a smile.

“Good cause I can’t wait to fuck you” Chris says before lining himself up with my entrance. He grips onto my thighs as he pushes himself into me. At first it’s sort of an uncomfortable feeling but it soon turns into pleasure.

“You okay?” Chris asks as he’s all the way inside of me.

“Yeah I’m fine, just fuck me already Chris” I say growing impatient. Chris lets out a little chuckle before thrusting into me at a rhythmic pace. He lets out a few groans as he watches his dick enter my pussy repeatedly.

Chris leans down allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist, grinding into his hips as he fucks into me. I hear Chris’s heavy breaths in my ear as he massages my chest. I plant kisses up his jaw as I feel his hips slam of mine.

“Faster” I moan in Chris’s ear, making him pull away from me and push my legs up so my thighs are resting on my chest and his dick fucks into me deeper. He fucks me faster as I moan out his name repeatedly. It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked this good, there’s no way we can only do this once,

“Fuck Chris” I moan as I feel his dick hit off my g spot. Chris lets out a little moan as he hears me moan his name once more.

“Fuck Y/n I never thought I would hear you moan my name like that” Chris moans as he throws my legs over his shoulders. He continues to fuck into me even deeper and at a faster pace than before. His fingers snake round to my clit and he begins to draw circles on my clit, adding to my pleasure.

“Fuck yes right there” I moan as my back arches slightly.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” Chris says as he looks down at me with a smirk.

“Yes fuck yeah” I moan, every thought from my mind completely gone.

“Turn over” Chris says as he pulls out of me momentarily. I turn over and get on all fours as I feel Chris press on the smalls of my back as he fucks into me once again. “Fuck you’re so tight baby”

Chris slaps my ass which makes my body jolt forward slightly. He holds onto my hips as he slams into me from behind. The only thing that can be heard in the room is the sound of our skin slapping together and our moans. Chris squeezes my ass as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

I reach my hand round to my clit and rub it in fast circles. I let out small moans as I feel Chris’s hands roams around my ass and back. I clench around Chris’s dick and pick up the pace of my movements on my clit as I chase my high.

“You fuck me so good Chris” I moan as I feel my legs begin to shake and I feel a wave of euphoric pleasure wash over me.

“I know I do baby” Chris says as his head falls back and he grips my hips to fuck into me deeper.

“Fuck Chris I’m cummimg” I moan as I feel myself spilling out over Chris. A plethora of moans leave my mouth as my legs lock and my body goes into spasm. “Fuck” I whisper as I close my eyes, recovering from my orgasm.

“Fuck Y/n I’ve been waiting so long to do this” Chris moans as he chases his own high. I whimper as Chris slaps my ass and continues to fuck into me deeper and harder. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” Chris moans as I feel his dick twitch inside of me.

“Chris” I moan as I grip onto the sheets beneath me. I press my face into the pillow as I snap my eyes tightly closed. All I can hear is Chris moaning behind me as he slaps my ass every now and then.

Chris pulls out of me and lets out a series of moans as he strokes his dick a few times before releasing his cum all up my back. We both pant and catch our breathes as we recover from our highs. I collapse on my stomach as Chris lays on his back next to me.

“That was fucking insane” Chris says as he looks over to me with a smile on his face and his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Yeah, it really fucking was” I say as I open my eyes. We take a moment to recover and reflect on what just happened before Chris got up to get me a towel. He cleans the mess up off my back and hands me and my clothes so I can get dressed.

“I can’t believe we just fucked” I chuckle as I put my clothes back on.

“I know, that was actually fucking crazy” Chris chuckles as he puts his shirt on. I smile as I think about what just happened. It was the best sex I think I’ve ever had, there’s no way we can just do it one time and not again.

Hey guys this was like my fave thing to write hehe. I haven’t proof read though so sorry for any mistakes. The first time I wrote it tumblr fucking deleted it so it’s bit shit cause the first one was so fucking good 😭😭

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo

[homies-slut]

Burns Deep

Summary: Your jealousy burns deep, but Homelander’s burns deeper than you ever imagined.

Warnings: language, 18+ content, jealousy

Extra: GIF is not mine

It was another day at Vought tower, kissing the public’s ass once again. Edgar just announced the newest member of the Seven, Stormfront, and you couldn’t help the bitterness you felt the moment you saw her. The I don’t give a fuck attitude was enough for you to roll your eyes every time something came out of her mouth.

You were already 20 minutes late for your daily meeting why not make it 30 to piss John off even more. You were closest to him out of the Seven and once she joined, he completely took your attention for granted and kept it on her just because she was different and stronger than most of us.

Strutting your way towards the tall steel doors in your new supe outfit, the baby blue and white leather hugging your curves uncomfortably yet enough to make you feel more confident than you ever have.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Y/N.” Homelander smiles, but you knew it wasn’t genuine. He was steaming from the ears. Where were you? Who were you with that was more important than being here?

“Sorry, outfit malfunction.” You shrug, taking the seat next to Starlight. His eyes never stray from you until you sit down, throwing him the sweetest smile you could muster with innocent eyes. You knew he wouldn’t stay mad long. It was almost impossible for him to go an hour knowing you were mad at him.

“As I was saying,” he continues through gritted teeth, “Edgar does not make the rules anymore. We are the ones who are stronger than any of them weak feeble humans out there,” he rants. “We have the power guys! I don’t think they really understand what we’re capable of, and now with Stormfront being here we can really show them what we stand for.”

“How sweet of you.” She smiles. “I just don’t understand how anyone could just let themselves be controlled by some company, for what?” She explains. “Money! I mean, come on you guys, we are the company.”

“And that is why you are the best and why we need you,” Homelander says almost sincerely with puppy dog eyes, you wanted to squeeze her vocal cords until she couldn’t talk anymore.

“Aright, is that it?” You exclaim, getting up and walking towards the door. “I have a date tonight that’s way more important than this bullshit.” You add just to piss him off even more.

That wasn’t a lie. You did have a date with one of the workers at Vought from wardrobe. You realized just how much you were missing out on cause you were too busy wrapped around Homelander’s finger.

“Walk out that door and you’re out,” Homelander growls, slamming his hand down on the table. You halt, mouth parting in astonishment when you turn around to face him. Red eyes, blazing with only what you could call anger, stare back at you.

“You can’t be serious?” You snap angrily, your eyes already turning a bright shade of blue at the rage and power coursing through your blood.

“I’m dead serious. Sit your ass down now, we’re gonna have a little chat,” he hisses. “Everyone else, out.” They give you a look of pity, hesitant to leave you alone with the raging supe.

“Now!”

They scatter like ants until it was just you and John.

“You,” he laughs bitterly, pointing a finger in your direction, “really like to push my buttons, don’t you, Y/N?”

You pretend to think. “Hmm, I really don’t know what you mean, John. As far as I’m concerned this meeting was over before I even got here. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

He stalks towards you almost like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. “Who is he?” He spits, towering over you. You stand your ground cause he doesn’t scare you at all. Sure, you know what he’s capable of, but would he really go as far as hurting you? His best friend. The one he was experimented on with since they were toddlers.

“You don’t know him. He sure is handsome though,” you coo, bringing a hand up to graze his jaw. You watch his eye twitch and jaw clench under your fingers. “I was quite lonely without you these least few days, you know, since you’ve been with Stormfront so much. I just decided to find someone to keep me company.”

He grabs your wrist in one hand and your throat in the other, shocking you, and in one swift motion pins you against the wall. His face hovers close to yours just enough to where you can smell the mint gum on his breath.

You let out a harsh breath at the impact and laugh as much as you can with the little oxygen you were working with.

“Why have you been so bad today, hmm? You like being a bad girl and embarrassing me in front of everyone. Just because I haven’t given you enough attention.” He was seething, fingers tightening around your neck. Homelander was seeing red. The thought of you going on date with some else was enough to trigger him. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen after. The way you’d let him touch you in places he was only meant to touch.

He yanks you towards him, bringing his lips to yours in a rough burning kiss. His mouth was hot against yours, fingers lessening their grip just a little so you could breathe easier. He releases the harsh grip on your wrist, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands travel to your thighs, lifting you up while you wrap your legs around him, threading your finger through his blond locks.

“You’re fucking mine, Y/N.” He made a low guttural sound in the back of his throat. “I’ll kill him before he touches you.” You release a loud moan at the thought of him killing someone over you. His lips were everywhere skin was showing. Your back hit the table before you were yanked back towards him. He grips your face harshly. “Who do you belong to?” His other hand found the warmth of your pussy under the leather fabric, teasing your clit in harsh circular motions.

“You,” you cry out, bucking your hips into his hand as tears welled in your eyes. “I’ve always belonged to you, John!” You gasp when he rips a hole in the crotch of your suit. He unbuckles his pants, yanking them down and running the red tip of his swollen cock against your moist folds. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and he yanks your head up firmly. “Eyes on me, young lady,” he growls with a hunger present.

He inches the head of his cock inside you, letting out a small whimper. “Fuck.”

“Please, please, please,” you beg. You were pathetic, cock drunk to say the least. “John, please,” you whine.

He thrusts deep inside you without warning, and you grip his shoulders tightly, burying your nails in the fabric of his suit. “Goddamn, this pussy,” he grunts, pulling out and thrusting in you again until he was driving his cock in and out of you in a chaotic manner, like he couldn’t get enough.

“This is your punishment for being a bitch today, understand?” He barks, plunging your pussy while it makes squelching noises from how wet you were.

“Yes, yes,” you moan loudly, feeling the burning sensation building in the pit of your walls. You clench around his cock, and he jerks you in for another kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth. He growls against your mouth, releasing his seed in your pussy as you coat yourself with his cock that was still fucking you.

“I dare you to act up again,” he warns, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them who try to take you from me.”

#the boys #Homelander #Homelander x reader #Homelander smut #the boys prime #john gillman #antony starr #Homelander imagines #the boys imagines

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART ONE : CHAPTER SEVEN

pairing: jake sully x human!fem!reader

summary: in which project pandora is revealed

warnings: none! word count: 3.6k

author’s note: it all goes downhill from here…prepare yourselves

AO3 | prev | next

You didn’t mean to become distant. You didn’t mean to pull away. But when you got really focused on something, it was hard to really pay attention to anything else.

And right now, you were focused on planning out Project Pandora. The last few days you had been locked up in your lab sorting through plans and past designs and trying to figure out the best way to do this without Quaritch knowing or suspecting anything. If anything, he probably did suspect something considering how loudly you voiced your disapproval for the RDA. Just didn’t know what extent you were willing to go. Honestly, you didn’t know either.

Grace was starting to notice your withdrawal, the way you didn’t eat or barely interacted with her and Jake, hell you even ignored Norm’s side comments. You knew that the more she worried the more likely she would start to figure out what you were doing. And you’ve been able to hide this project from her for half a year, you weren’t about to let that change now.

Which was why you were sitting with Norm and Grace, eating with them while Jake was still asleep that morning.

“They must’ve worn him out the other day.” Norm muttered, glancing toward the back where the sleeping chambers were.

“There preparing him it seems.” Grace sipped at her tea. “His ceremony’s today. He’ll be officially one of the Omatikaya by the end of tonight.” She glanced toward you knowingly, “Pretty big deal.”

You nodded quietly, poking at your breakfast. “What do we do after?”

Grace didn’t respond. Even Norm remained quiet.

“So nothing?”

“So, I'm working on it, Tinkers.” Grace sighed as she got up to throw her now empty cup into the sink. “Just give me some time, I’ll think of something.”

“Parker and Quaritch won’t listen.” You argued calmly, getting up as well. “Grace, you know that. They want that Unobtanium crap and guys like Parker and Quaritch aren’t going to stop just because we’re preaching kumbaya—”

“Then what do you suggest we do?!” Grace hissed exasperatedly. “Convince the Na’vi to leave their homes? Because we all know that’s not going to happen, no matter how diplomatic we try to be. Na’vi people will not leave, they will fight it and then we’ll have war on our hands!” She shook her head, running a hand through her red curls. “I don’t know what else you want me to do, kid.”

You knew what to do. You’ve known what to do for months now. “Someone has to do something.”

Grace narrowed her eyes, “Let me figure it out. Give me time.”

“Morning, Jake.” Norm said loudly, causing the two of you to turn to said man.

Jake was watching the two of you, obviously sensing the tension in the room. His eyes stayed on you longer as he asked, “Everything good?”

Norm glanced toward Grace and despite your stubbornness you did as well. At the end of all of this, Grace was the one in charge. All of you looked at her each time no matter what.

Grace was looking at you steadily and you realized at that moment there were way too many observant eyes on you. Watching you as if you would blow up any second. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Right, Tinkers?”

Perhaps you were being paranoid but you could’ve sworn that maybe, just maybe, Grace somehow knew what you were planning. She couldn’t have figured it out that quickly though, right? Of course, she knew you like a mother would a daughter but still, no one should know about the project. Not even her.

You have to be careful now.

“Peachy.” You forced a tight smile before grabbing your bowl of unfinished breakfast and throwing it in the sink.

Just as you were about to walk away, Grace grasped your arm, stopping you. “Don’t do anything reckless.” She tightened her grasp, giving you a stern look. “I’m serious.”

After a few seconds, she finally let you go. You didn’t say anything as you sauntered toward the door to your lab. Once you got to the hallway a voice called for you.

“Doc.”

Despite yourself, you stopped at Jake’s voice and turned to find him rolling toward you in the small hallway. Seeing him now reminded you that the two of you hadn’t spoken ever since he admitted to both you, Grace, and Norm about what Quaritch tasked him to do.

You weren’t purposefully avoiding him. Though you also weren’t going out of your way to talk to him either. Really, you wouldn’t blame him if he were upset with you right now.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, I get it and you have every right.” Jake started which surprised you. “But—”

“Jake, I’m not upset with you.” You assured him before he continued. An exhausted sigh left your lips as you leaned against your lab door. “I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Quaritch.” Jake frowned.

“More or less.”

He massaged his face tiredly before grunting, “I can figure out a way to fix all of this, to fix my mess. I-I know you love this place and I don’t want him—”

“You and Grace have an awful habit of carrying the world on your shoulders.” You commented, smiling sadly at him. You stepped forward, brushing his short hair back, causing him to look up at you. “Leave some for the rest of us, yeah?”

Just as you were about to drop your hand away from his hair, he caught your hand and directed it to rest against his cheek, his gaze never breaking from yours.

“Come to my ceremony tonight?” He asked quietly. Your heart fluttered as he squeezed your hand, “Grace will already be there. I want you there too.”

A smile stretched onto your face just as it became warmer by the second, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Tsmuke!” Osa gasped excitedly as you and Grace arrived at Hometree. The younger girl ran over toward you and hugged your waist despite her mother’s protests.

“Hello, little one.” You smiled, patting the top of her head.

She looked up at you curiously, pulling you down to your knees. “Are you here for the ceremony?”

You nodded and allowed her to pull you toward the crowd of Na’vi as they began to gather. You could spot Tsu’tey in the midst looking grumpy but tolerant. Mo’at was also among them but stood at the front next to the clan leader and her husband, Eytukan. Of course, you and Grace both stood out since you were wearing clothes while the others wore their usual cultural clothing. You wondered if you’d ever be brave enough to wear what they wore. If Jake could rock a loincloth then perhaps you could do the same if you put your mind to it.

The very idea made you smile quietly despite your distracted mind.

Soon Jake joined the crowd of Na’vi that waited for him. His body was covered in white markings which you guessed was a part of the ceremony. The crowd parted just a bit so that he could stand in the middle and in front of both the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik. Neytiri was with him, smiling proudly when her father stepped forward.

“You are now a son of the Omatikaya.” Eytukan announced. “You are part of The People.”

The Olo’eyktan was the first to place his hands on Jake’s shoulders and then the rest of the people had followed, touching each other’s shoulders, all of them connecting to the new son of their clan.

Grace grinned proudly and even her joy rubbed off on you a bit. Truly, you wished you could enjoy this entire moment all together, you wished you could be standing next to him, becoming one of the People as well. But even you knew this wouldn’t last long.

At least you would have this moment. At least you’d have this calm before the impending storm ahead.

Maybe in another life…

“Moping already?”

Later that night, you were sitting against a tree, absentmindedly watching both Jake, Grace, and Neytiri talking amongst each other, nearly blending into the crowd of people.

Tsu’tey was walking toward you and squatted down next to you, “Why are you not celebrating with your fellow demons?”

For a moment, you wondered how he’d react if he knew about Jake’s mission. How he’d react when he found out that you knew as well and didn’t tell him. You felt as if you were somehow betraying him, betraying the Omatikaya people the same as Jake was.

“Huh? What is wrong with you?” Tsu’tey pushed your head, snapping you out of your drowning thoughts. “Since when are you this quiet? You’re usually as mouthy as him.”

You shook your head, “It’s nothing. So what’s next for him? Now that he is one of the People.”

If Tsu’tey noticed the way you quickly changed the subject, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he focused his narrowed eyes on Jake who was standing next to Neytiri. “He can try to become a warrior, make himself useful. And then he can choose his mate or mates, whichever the people decide.”

“Mates?” You repeated incredulously. Yes, you heard the Na’vi could choose a mate but more than one? This was news to you. “Like at the same time?”

Tsu’tey looked at you as if the answer was obvious, “What, do you Sky People do not do that?” You frowned. He scoffed and smirked cockily, “Of course you don’t.”

“Well, not all the time...” You mumble.

He rolled his eyes before gesturing toward Neytiri’s father, “The Olo’eyktan used to have a second mate, along with our Tsahik. She died years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No pity, tsmuke. It was long ago.” Tsu’tey stood. He then smacked your arm, nudging you off roughly, “Now get up. Go talk to your demon friend.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, “Always so demanding.”

He tapped his heart twice. You did the same.

“And keep him away from her.” He glared hotly in Jake’s direction as he was still standing with Neytiri.

And now that you looked at them, really looked at them, they looked close.

It was strange though. You did not get mad. You weren’t entirely hurt either. Perhaps this made things easier for you. Perhaps now you could go through with Project Pandora without anything holding you back from it.

Because once it’s launched there’s no going back. There was no coming back from it.

“Hey.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw that Jake was now in front of you, smiling down at you.

“Hi.”

Jake studied you for a moment, cupping your cheek gently, “Why are you over here all alone—”

You backed away, “Um, I’m uh, I have to go.” He stared at you in confusion as you removed his hand, “Tell Grace I’ll be back at the station.”

Just as you were walking away, Jake followed after you, grasping your arm, “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on with you? Doc—”

“Nothing!” You turned when he pulled you back. “It’s nothing, okay? I just need some time alone.”

“Y/N.” Jake moved in front of you, now blocking your way, forced to face him. “I know something’s up. You’ve been acting strange since this morning and I’m worried, okay? I’m worried about you. Hey—”

He caught your face between his hands. Despite yourself, your eyes fluttered closed. Drowning in his touch, the way he held you how you always yearned for him to, his scent overwhelming your senses, your foreheads leaning on each other.

The two of you stayed like this, neither one of you saying anything, afraid of what the other would do. Just when you felt the gentle graze against your lips, you stopped him, shaking your head and pulled away.

“I need time.” You whispered, not meeting his gaze. “Go back to the ceremony, go back to Grace…and Neytiri.” You placed your hands on his chest, further pushing him away. “I’ll be fine.”

Jake didn’t let you go right away. Instead he moved his hands from your face toward your hands against his chest, grabbing them and squeezing them tightly in his hands.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He told you a small smirk lifting his lips. “At least not without me.”

You lift your shoulders half-heartedly, “I’ll try.”

The next morning, your pillow was snatched from underneath you.

Your eyes snapped open, “What the fuck—”

Grace stood over you, glaring at you as if she were challenging you to finish the sentence. “Get in the link bed.”

She stalked away as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and staggered out of your bed. Everything was too confusing, you woke up too fast, and now the world around you was muffled and groggy. The only thing you could make out was Grace’s back as she continued down the short hallway and into the link room..

“What…What’s going on, Grace?” You asked, finally able to take in your surroundings after a few seconds. She didn’t respond to you as she pulled open her link bed. Norm was already awake and setting it up. “Grace, what—”

“I do not want to talk about this here.” The way she talked to you made both you and Norm stop, startled. Now that you were looking at her, she looked pissed and perhaps even frightened. But of what you did not know.

Wait. Did something happen? Did the RDA do something? Where was Jake?

“Jake is already linked up.” Grace hoisted herself onto her link bed as if she read your mind. She then pointed toward yours, “Get in!”

“Alright, alright!” You scrambled toward your link bed, pulled it open, and got in. Norm came to you seconds later, “Do you know what’s going on?”

He shook his head, “No. All I know is she was in a rush to get Jake into his avatar so she could talk to you. Must be serious.”

Well, that certainly didn’t help. But you didn’t say anything as Norm closed your lid and linked you to your avatar.

When you peeled your eyes open, you found Grace standing in front of you. Yellow eyes glaring at you.

You sat up, checking your surroundings. Just as you remembered, you were still in the forest where you last left your avatar. Now you looked back at Grace, “Okay, what’s going on—”

Before you could even finish, she dropped a bunch of papers down on the ground in front of you. Once you saw the familiar designs that belonged to parts of your project, your eyes widened as you began scooping it up.

“How did you—”

“Don’t speak in English!” Grace hissed before pointing up. “The RDA could be watching!”

You considered your options as of now. Okay, she knew of the plans because of the designs and blueprints. But she didn’t know where you had hidden them. If you had to guess, she went into your lab and found these. Fortunately, you prepared for this and didn’t hide the actual project in your lab.

“What the hell are you thinking?!” Grace snapped, gesturing wildly to the papers you had now rolled up in your arms, “Creating bombs?! Have you fucking lost your mind?!”

“If I had lost my mind then I wouldn’t have been able to build it.”

“Don’t be a smartass!” Grace scoffed in disbelief, running her hands through her hair. “I can’t believe you would do this, do you know how dangerous this is? Do you know what would happen if Quaritch would’ve found this?!”

“He wouldn’t have—”

“You don’t know that! And you sure as hell didn’t make it difficult since those were sitting out in broad daylight!” She began pacing, shaking her head as she took in deep breaths. “How long has this been going on?”

You didn’t reply right away.

Grace whirled around to face you with wide frightened eyes, “Y/N, HOW LONG?!”

“Since the day he shot up the fucking school!” You snapped finally. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at you, jaw slacked. “There! Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

“No, Tinkers.” The look of disappointment made you falter. “I don’t want to hear that you created bombs just to get back at the RDA. To get back at Quaritch. What happened to not letting him get in your head? It’s all a suicide mission, Y/N!” You looked away, clutching the papers close to your chest. “How many did you make?”

You frowned, “Eight. Nine if you count the prototype.”

“Jesus! In two years?!”

You shrugged pathetically, “I am a child prodigy.”

Grace scowled at you for a moment until her eyes widened again, “Fuck, they’re not in the station are they?!”

“No! I’m not stupid!”

“That’s fucking debatable!”

You breathed out a tired sigh and knelt down as you tore the papers apart into little pieces until the designs were nothing but trash. You began to cover it up with dirt. Grace continued pacing in the corner of your eye. “What do you want me to do, Grace?”

It took a few moments for her to gather herself. Grace had never yelled at you like this before, never had she raised her voice at you in the years you worked side by side with her. You didn’t recognize her when she was angry with you. Hell, you hadn’t recognized yourself in years now either.

“To not use them.” She finally said as she stopped pacing. Instead, she approached you and knelt down in front of you, helping you dump more dirt on the shreds of paper. She then placed a hand on your shoulder. “Let us find another way. One where you don’t get hurt in the end.”

You dared to ask the question you knew she was afraid to ask.

“And what if your way doesn’t work?”

Before Grace could say anything, the bushes rustled further away from you. Both of you froze. You glanced around, looking for anything to defend yourself with. Instead, Jake and Neytiri appeared through the bushes, wide eyes meeting yours and Grace’s.

“What’s going on?” Grace asked when she stood. You followed slowly, gauging their faces carefully.

“The Sky People!” Neytiri hissed, gesturing wildly where they had come from. “They’re killing the forest! They are destroying everything!”

Your heart sank. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Neytiri ran off and Jake stumbled after her, not before shouting to you and Grace, “They’re bulldozing the forest! We have to warn them now! We have to tell them!”

Grace and you glanced toward each other before running off after them. Fortunately, for you, the Hometree wasn’t too far from where you and Grace had been. When you arrived, many of the people were gathered together and from what you understood as you got closer, it sounded like they were beginning to lead an attack on the RDA after what they did with the bulldozers Jake mentioned.

Once you got close enough, Grace cut toward the middle so that she could be heard by the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik. “Stop, please! This will only make it worse!”

Tsu’tey scowled at her, “You do not speak here!” He then turned to the rest of the Na’vi and shouted, “We will strike them in the heart!”

“Damn it.” You muttered, wide eyes bouncing everywhere as the warriors hooted in agreement.

“Tsu’tey!” Jake appeared next to you with Neytiri. “Don’t do this!”

You grabbed Jake’s bicep before he could go any closer. You had seen the look cross Tsu’tey’s face before any of the others. The way he glanced between him and Neytiri, the way it was clear his mind was quickly jumping to conclusions, leading him to charge toward Jake.

“Tsu’tey!” You shouted as he shoved Jake to the ground. Neytiri was quick to grab you out of the way as the warrior went for Jake. “Tsu’tey, enough!”

“You dare!” Neytiri screeched after moving you safely out of the way, hissing at Tsu’tey.

He ignored the both of you, scowling, “You mated with this woman?!”

Your heart felt as if it had stopped for those few short seconds.

But Jake shook his head quickly as he staggered to his feet, “No! No, I didn’t!”

But Tsu’tey didn’t look convinced as he went for Jake again, taking out his knife. This time Neytiri had tried to interfere but her father pulled her away before she could reach the two men. Grace was at your side, gripping your arm, silently telling you not to be foolish and get involved.

“This is stupid!” You hissed at her.

“Yeah, well, we’re both not fighters. Let’s remember that, Tinkers.” Grace mumbled, keeping you at her side.

“Correction, you’re not a fighter. I am.”

“Just listen for once, Tinkers!”

Once Jake finally threw Tsu’tey off, leaving the latter with a bloody nose, he finally spoke. “I am Omatikaya. I am one of you. I have the right to speak! And I have something to say to all of you.” He glanced toward you, “The words are like stones in my heart.”

But you did not get to hear the rest nor did Jake say anything else. The last thing you saw was the world tipping over and feeling as if your consciousness has left your body.

“Y/N!”

Just as large breaths of air enter your lungs, your chest jolting upward. You had never been suddenly pulled out of a link like that, especially not without you knowing beforehand. Usually Norm would tell you.

But instead of Norm opening the lid, it was a geared up soldier standing over you. Wainfleet.

“Hey, cupcake.” He grinned down at you, taking out a red strip as he yanked one of your wrists out. “Looks like you made the boss mad.”

You tried fighting his grip, scowling at him, “Fuck you!”

Wainfleet sighed, feigning hurt. “Damn, Doc. I didn’t know you were always so feisty. Best save that energy for the boss.”

And in the next second, you were dragged out of the link bed.

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari@tojigirl @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @erenjaegerwifee @naityelen @dumb-fawkin-bitch @raggedyoldwitch @dorck26 @nhemmingsf @biooiuygjjgfsrb @thatsenoughformelol @tojigirl

#to you worlds away #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #avatar jake #jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #tsu'tey #sam worthington #neytiri #avatar the way of water #atwow

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — 01. bucket list

previous | next

It was about six hours later when finally you stirred back to life, your pillow somehow on the floor and the sheets a tangled mess. You were about to roll over to drift back into dreamland, but a voice startled you awake.

“Oh! You finally woke up.”

You had never sat up so fast in your life. There was a girl sitting on your chair, staring at you while messing up your rubix cube. In fact, you were pretty sure that this was the same girl that you swore was a hallucination just hours ago.

“Who the fuck are you?” You snapped. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“I’m Danielle,” she smiled, unbothered by your aggression. You tried to ignore the weird twist in your stomach, convincing yourself that it was because you were hungry. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, Danielle,” you narrowed your eyes. “How the fuck did you get in my room?”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head. “You summoned me.”

I did what now?

“You know,” she gestured vaguely. “The 11:11 wish thing?”

It took you a few seconds to process what she said before you laughed in disbelief, looking around and expecting Minji to jump out and scream ‘You just got pranked!’

Your laughter quickly died down when you realized that Danielle was being dead serious.

“Oh,” you said. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am,” she frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You would’ve found her obliviousness cute if she wasn’t a random intruder who somehow magically appeared in your room.

“So what?” You blurted. “You’re a platonic cupid or something?”

“Cupid?” Danielle giggled. “That’s a new one.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve heard that humans call us angels, or genies, but we’re just messengers of God,” she clarifed. “We don’t have wings or halos, and there’s no need to rub a lamp. Just here to fulfill wishes.”

“Wait,” you raised your hand. “Pause. Did you just say God? God exists?”

“Yes,” she nodded nonchalantly, seemingly unaware of the fact that she just casually dropped a massive bombshell and answered history’s biggest question. “He’s in charge of sorting through all 11:11 wishes.”

You could feel a headache start to form. “So you’re telling me that God is real. But not, like, a holy one. And so are angels. Or messengers. And that 11:11 wishes are also real.”

“Yes?”

“And now you’re here to make me ‘happy’?”

“Ding ding ding! Three in a row!” Danielle grinned, nodding again. “Yes, I have been assigned two weeks to satisfy your wish.”

“Oh,” you slumped, tapping your fingers as your mind ran wild with all sorts of questions. “Can I ask you some questions first?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve already been doing?” She pointed out innocently.

“I’m sorry,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “You literally appeared out of nowhere. You can’t expect me to not have questions.”

She watched you get out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna brush my teeth and process what just happened. Be ready for an interrogation when I’m done.”

“Okay,” you huffed, sitting across Danielle on your bed. More awake now, you took this time to study her, realizing how angel-like she truly was. Her posture was perfect, back straightened and hands always resting gently in her lap. She had this indescribable aura to her — her smile was warm and sincere, yet her eyes were clouded by this hint of intensity, as if she could see right through you.

“This is exciting,” she clasped her hands together. “I love interrogations!”

You cleared your throat.

“Do all 11:11 wishes come true?”

“No. God chooses which ones go through and which ones don’t.”

“Do you choose which human you take?”

“We have a system in place that automatically assigns us our human, based on compatibility and how likely we’re able to fulfill the wish.”

“Woah,” you gaped. “Is it calculated by a God computer or something?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“So, you know all about me, then?”

“Not really. We’re given a brief profile of our assigned human. It’s nothing detailed — just your name, age, where you’re from, all the likes.”

“Huh.”

You hesitated before the next question.

“Does God birth you out?”

She stared at you with an amused smile. “Really?”

“What?” You said defensively. “It’s a valid question.”

“No. He just speaks us into existence.”

“How long have you existed for?”

“18 years. It’s my first year on the job. This is my first wish, actually.”

You raised your eyebrows. “So it’s kinda like the real world. Being considered independent at 18 and all that.”

“I suppose so,” she said with a shrug. “We get taught about the world and about the code of conduct for our whole childhood, until we stand before God himself. He judges if we’re ready or not, and then, boom, we’re out here making wishes come true.”

“Wow,” you exhaled sharply, letting all the new information sink in. “Okay. That’s all the questions I have. For now, at least.”

“Awesome!” Danielle clapped, and a pen suddenly materialized out of thin air.

“What the fuck?”

She winked at you, as if it was a sufficient answer to your question, and then pulled a notebook out of her pocket like a magician with a rabbit and a hat.

Well, at least I know she’s not lying about this whole ‘messenger of God’ schtick.

“To fulfill your wish, I have prepared a plan,” she explained. “You’re going to tell me all the things that make you happy, and we’ll create a bucket list of sorts. We only have two weeks, so we’ll have to make the most of every day.”

“Aren’t you meant to know what makes me happy?” You muttered, a touch of bitterness laced in your tone. “I don’t know what makes me happy — that’s the whole reason I made the wish.”

Danielle hummed, unfazed by your sudden change in mood. “Okay, I’ll just come up with the things to do. We’ll start tomorrow.”

She clapped again, and the notebook and pen disappeared. “Just do me a favor,” she smiled. “Make my job easier and wake up at seven everyday. In the morning, of course.”

“Seven am?” You blanched, your whole body having a visceral reaction. “Are you sure you weren’t sent here to make my life worse? I woke up at seven today and I literally felt like I just crawled back from hell.”

The corner of her mouth tugged upwards. “Just trust me, it’ll be worth it. Do you want your wish fulfilled or not?”

You sighed defeatedly. “You got it.”

previous | next

#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

[sunohws]

no rules - kang taehyun

pairing: fwb!taehyun x m!reader

synopsis: you and Taehyun are fwb and in order to not spoil their friendship, Taehyun imposes some rules on the relationship . . . (there's actually no other way to describe this.)

word count: 0.8k

a/n: ssfw :3 . . . this is also very VERY cringey... beware. also this has been in my drafts for over 2 weeks. um.. i may or may not have forgetten about it when i was revamping my profile. LOL!

Taehyun had four set rules when they first started out: first, no sex while they were on a busy schedule, i.e. at the time of performances, promotions, or tours; second, avoid unnecessary caresses; third, no kissing on the mouth; last but not least, no sleeping together, especially after sex.

These were four simple rules, but y/n hated them with all his heart. He knew that he could not break them, nor could he complain to have them eliminated, and finally he understood that Taehyun had them set for a reason. The Korean man had talked about something to do with the chemistry of human emotions and how not respecting them would cause a romantic attachment on the part of them, which would inevitably end their friendships.

Maybe Taehyun had exaggerated or been dramatic? you couldn’t tell, it was better not to risk it. And it’s not that you didn’t believe that, in fact, you didn’t care. Considering that you were already in love with Taehyun, nothing could make it worse. But you couldn’t tell his friend, or it might not only shake their friendship, but also with the group dynamic, more than the casual sex they had.

Which you thought was too little, considering everyone was busy with performances and touring for the last few months, a situation mentioned in Taehyun’s rules that left you with calluses on your hands, if you know what I mean.

You understood this, of course it was necessary to focus on work, to avoid distractions. However, in your humble opinion and perspective, even during work, they need to relax a little, even take some risks… And that is why you were in Taehyun’s room, lying half-naked on his bed, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom.

Originally, Huening Kai was supposed to be sharing the room with Taehyun, but fortunately, with your wit and persuasion – and a bit of bribery - you managed to swap places with the maknae. When Taehyun finally emerged from the bathroom, his gaze wandered in surprise and confusion to see your figure on his bed. And to your delight, Taehyun’s gaze also showed interest.

“No.” he said seriously, interrupting you before you could even say anything, causing your smile to crumble. “We’ve talked about this, not during concerts and promotions.” He said slowly, making sure that the other understood. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh come on.” You huffed, standing up and approaching Taehyun, wrapping your arms around his larger body. You smiled when your realize, Taehyun didn’t pull away. “You’re so tense…”

“Y/N”

You just nibbled Taehyun’s ear in response, fiddling and messing up his hair and, damn, Taehyun was so hot. You already felt as hard as a stone to have him in his arms, clean and smelling good, wearing only a robe, since knowing him well, he probably wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Are you an animal or what?” Taehyun gasped, failing to maintain a serious posture in front of the elder man, exposing his neck and giving you more room to act. You, who is no fool (ur super smart), immediately took advantage of this, leaving a trail of kisses on his skin as he ran his hands alonf the others body. A stronf and tasy body, just the way you likedit.

To be honest you still found it surreal the situation you were in, having a beneficial friendship relationship (im sorry wtf) with none other than Kang Taehyun, his crush…

“Y/N, seriously, we’re not even home…”

“But we are alone. And the reason why you don’t like to have sex with me when we are on tour or performing is because you’re afraid that you wont be able to dance the next day, but we don’t have a performance tomorrow.” You insisted, as you untied Taehyun’s robe a bit. And well, he didn’t stop you.

“pfft, I can’t believe you said that.” Taehyun laughed and patted your chest. You weren’t lying. “And look at you, as excited as I am.” You smiled, opening your robe. Taehyun narrowed his eyes and looked at you with an expression that should have been threatening but failed miserably.

“Well, just this once.” Agreed Taehyun.

You didn’t need anything else, you grabbed the boy by the thighs and lifted him while Taehyun whined and laughed. The tasty echoing laugh that made your heart warm up and squeeze. “Oh Y/N, you’re like an animal in heat, all impatient.” He scoffed, and you just smiled broadly as he threw him onto the bed, crawled over him and opened his robe.

“When it comes to you yes. And don’t pretend to be any less perverted than I am.” You added, whole nibbling and teasing one of his nipples. Sure, you would love to kiss Taehyun now, but you were already breaking a rule and maybe it was better to not push your luck… You didn’t want or need to think about that right now.

At that moment, it was just sex between friends with benefits. And while you were not so good at playing that role, you were certainly good at fucking Taehyun and making him forget everything.

And that’s what you did.

im throwing up in a good way kind of. why is this so cringe. lord! um um yeah um yeah mhm, i think yep sorry for how cringey this was.

#someone get me out #kang taehyun #taehyun #taehyun smut #fwb!taehyun #why is this lowk cringey #switch taehyun #switch reader #idol au #ssfw #beomgyu #yeonjun #hueningkai #soobin #txt smut #tomorrow x together

[seijorhi]

Scion

yakuza arranged marriage anyone??

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

wc 8.5k

tw dubcon, noncon, drug use, mentions of murder, torture, minor character death, implied infidelity, human trafficking, blood, general yandere themes, smut, nsfw

“You know we’re not actually in a relationship, right?”

Oikawa grins, “The big, sparkly diamond ring I’ve got in my back pocket begs to differ.”

You fix him with an unimpressed look, which only serves to make his grin widen. He really can’t help himself when you get all worked up like this. 

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Ring or no ring. Contract or no contract, I think it’s better for the both of us to just act like–”

“Act like this isn’t happening?”

“That’s not– you’re being difficult,” you huff. “I just meant that we don’t need to pretend to be all… coupley in the meantime. You’re free to see and do whatever you want, and… and so am I.”

It’s not a question exactly, there’s something distinctly uncertain in your tone. Are you seeking his permission or trying to reaffirm to yourself that you still have some semblance of freedom – romantic or otherwise – until the moment you walk down the aisle to bind yourself to him?

Neither thought sits particularly well with him, though before Oikawa can open his mouth to deliver a retort, you’re cutting him off. “And I’m not wearing the ring.”

“No? But I haven’t even shown it to you yet. I picked it out myself, and you know I have excellent taste.”

Your scowl deepens. “Would it kill you to take this seriously?”

“Like you are?” he parries. “You understand that you’re essentially giving me a free pass to fuck whoever I want while we’re engaged.”

He doesn’t miss the flicker of distaste that you try (and fail miserably) to hide. You’ve always been like that; wearing your emotions on your face, bare as the light of day. And while that’s an admirable trait in somebody else – one he admittedly finds more endearing than he should as far as you’re concerned – it won’t do you any favours in this world of his. The world you were born into, loathe as you seem to be to accept your part in it.

Admittedly, it does make it so very entertaining whenever he decides to push those delightful buttons of yours.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself perhaps, and lift your gaze to meet his. 

“I don’t know why you even agreed to marry me, and honestly I don’t care. I'm doing this for my family, but if this whole thing falls apart before I ever make it down the aisle, I’ll sleep just fine. So by all means, fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, I promise you I won’t stop you – so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

Though you never raise your voice, there’s a fire that burns in your eyes, unwavering. Unflinching. And far from being put off by it, Oikawa’s thrilled. 

“Fine,” he purrs, “but you’ll be wearing the ring.”

—

You’d asked for a year, and graciously, he’d agreed. 

Oikawa’s waited a long, long time for this, another twelve months will hardly make a difference. Besides, there’s nothing stopping him from stealing you away every now and then; there’s meetings with the wedding planner, picking out a venue, organising caterers, going over the guest lists – all responsibilities he could technically pass off to someone else, but why deny himself the pleasure of your sparkling company when he has the chance? 

And of course, there’s special occasions that people would traditionally want to celebrate with their soon to be spouses. Days like today; his 30th birthday. 

He doesn’t bother informing you of this, because then he’d miss out on seeing your bright, sunny grin when you open the door, and how it falters when you realise that it’s him. 

“Oh, Oikawa…”

Though it’s an admittedly poor effort, he’ll give you credit for trying to pretend that it’s not blatant disappointment leaching from your tone as you grip the edge of the door, your gaze darting over his shoulder quickly.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

Ah. His eyes drift downwards, taking in the short, summery dress, the light sweep of makeup across your pretty face. Spies the ‘fuck me’ heels sitting by the door, ready for you to slip on before you leave. 

Date night, then. And on his birthday no less.

“Did you have plans?” he asks, plastering an innocent smile across his face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The answer is obviously yes, even if it weren’t clear from your outfit, he can see it written all over your expression. 

Your fingers tighten a fraction on the door, “I assumed– I thought tonight you’d be out with your… friends.” Friends, bodyguards, lieutenants, brothers. His family, soon to be yours. “To celebrate, I mean. Today’s your birthday, right?”

Oikawa’s touched that you remember. Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t be – ever since he was a teenager, your father had essentially enforced your presence (yours and your brother’s) at any of their events, birthday celebrations no exception. 

Another glance risked over his shoulder.

He shrugs easily, “We will be, later. For now I want you all to myself.”

You open your mouth, only to abruptly snap it shut, suddenly hesitant. Not without cause, he supposes. One thing to insist that your engagement with him doesn’t construe a proper relationship, another to openly admit you’re seeing somebody else while it’s his ring that glitters on your finger. 

His smile widens. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

“… Not at all.” 

Good girl. 

He takes you to his favourite restaurant in the city. Wraps an arm low around your back and lets his thumb rub slowly – posessively – at your hip when the staff bow deeply and address him by name, ushering you both to a private room, his usual, out the back. 

You’re quiet through dinner, picking at the food on your plate.

Normally it’d irritate him, push him to poke and prod until you came alive and played with him, however tonight he finds it oddly satisfying. Delightful, if only because he knows he’s the cause of your discomfort.

Did you manage to message your jilted lover before he swept you away for the night, or does the poor bastard think you’ve stood him up, he wonders.

“You know,” he begins, idly gazing down at his glass as he swirls the last dregs of whiskey, “I’ve been thinking that we need to amend our contract.”

You glance up sharply, and he only barely resists snickering. “What?”

“I think we should add a fidelity clause.” He pauses, lets the words sink in as he drains his glass in a single mouthful, “You seemed convinced I’d be fucking other people after we married, well, now you don’t have to worry.”

You blink. “But… I told you I didn’t care–”

“This way, if you catch me being unfaithful, both our marriage and the contract become null and void, and you can go on your merry way.”

Setting the now empty glass back on the table, Oikawa rests an arm on the back of his chair. For all your naivety, you’ve never been stupid. He can tell from the sudden tight, apprehensiveness in your features that you understand the subtle threat, yet it never hurts to hammer the point home, “Of course, that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

“Of course,” you echo back, your voice unsteady, and knock back the last of your wine.

Oikawa grins, “Another round?”

—

“Her brother’s outside,” Matsukawa informs him. “Demanding to see you.”

The night before his wedding, Oikawa stands at the sink of his bathroom, a damp face cloth in hand, wiping at the blood splattered along his face and neck. He’s already shed his shirt, dumped it on the floor – it’s likely beyond salvaging, the blood already in the process of drying. Another casualty to this lifestyle, though considering how much of a colossal fuck up this night’s already been, he can’t find it within himself to give a shit about one measely shirt.

Mattsun meets his gaze in the mirror, “Want me to get rid of him?” he asks.

Oikawa exhales, dropping the towel into the sink. His tattoos, the vibrant bursts of colour inked between swirling blacks and greys, stand stark against the pale skin of his torso, rising and falling with each measured breath. There’s a temptation for him to tell Mattsun to simply get rid of him. An even bigger temptation to march out there himself and soothe the monster raging beneath his skin with more blood. 

Instead, he holds out a hand, to which Hanamaki quickly passes him a clean shirt to shrug on.

“No. Let him in.”

In truth, he’d been somewhat expecting a visit tonight, sending your brother to grovel for last minute clemency, though? Oikawa’s almost disappointed, he expected more from you.

Your glowering brother isn’t nearly as pretty to look at.

A few minutes later, dressed and clean, Oikawa makes his way into his study, ignoring the man already seated while he settles himself into the leather backed chair behind his desk. His right hand, Iwaizumi, lingers by the door, arms folded across his chest, scowling silently at their guest.

“Oikawa,” he grits out, his head inclining just a fraction – all the respect he can seem to muster for the man marrying his sister. His soon to be Oyabun, considering that after tomorrow, all that he was poised to inherit becomes Oikawa’s. 

His answering smirk is practically vulpine. “Come to play white knight? Leaving it a bit late, don’t you think?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” he spits, eyes narrowing. “Tell me what I need to do to end this.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in that?”

And Oikawa has to give him credit; he doesn’t waste a beat, “Because you’re a greedy little fuck who enjoys manipulating people. Stop playing games and tell me what it is you want in exchange for breaking this engagement, and I’ll go.”

He laughs, lazily drumming his fingers along the edge of the ornate, wooden desk. “Always a charmer, Eita. I’m curious, though, are you here begging for her sake, or your own? Because you know as well as I do what’ll happen to you and your father if this wedding doesn’t go ahead.” There’s nothing kind in his expression as his lips curl upwards, “Is the price worth it?”

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.” 

Eita’s eyes narrow. “You know she hates this, right? Wants absolutely nothing to do with any of it. She had to beg our father for months just to be allowed to attend a normal school, and flat out refused to have any part in the business, to even be in the same room when it was being discussed – which was fine because he had me to do all that.”

“The prodigal son,” Oikawa mocks, earning himself a sneer in response.

“She wanted out, and we were so close to convincing him when he had to go fuck everything up. And because he’d spent years making bad decision after bad decision, running our family into the ground and then decided to screw over the wrong syndicate, he comes crawling to you, begging for help.”

“Such gratitude, as always.”

Eita scoffs, “Am I supposed to be grateful? It wasn’t enough to take over our territory and operations, was it? You had to take her too, and because she for some fucking reason loves the old bastard, she’s going along with it. I don’t give a shit about losing any of it, but she’s not gonna throw her life away for his sake, or mine. So I’ll ask you again, Oikawa; what do you want in exchange for letting her out of this?”

Interesting. Nothing he didn’t technically already know, or at least suspect, nevertheless… interesting. And with glittering eyes he leans in close. Smirks. 

“As tempting an offer as that may be, I have everything I want.”

—

As the head of one of the largest Yakuza syndicates in the country, a small wedding was never an option. Hundreds of guests pour into the estate, all with the sole purpose of witnessing the two of you tying the knot in a beautiful, lavish ceremony. And it is a beautiful, lavish ceremony. Champagne towers and endless floral garlands falling between the glittering chandeliers, a string quartet plays as the wedding procession begins. 

Your dress was technically the only thing he hadn’t had a hand in. He’d wondered earlier, staring at his reflection as he fixed the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket, what kind of wedding gown you’d chosen for yourself. After all, despite you agreeing to this marriage, you’d made no secret of your ambivalence towards the entire day, only giving input when Oikawa prodded.

There was always a possibility you’d choose something plain and dull, simply because you didn’t care enough to pick otherwise. As you walk down the aisle on your father’s arm, however, he realises he needn't have worried. 

You’re perfect.

Heart-stoppingly beautiful in ivory lace and tulle, and though Iwa leans over, claps him on the shoulder and says something in his ear, Oikawa can’t hear a word of it. Can’t focus on anything – anyone – but you. 

And your eyes are shining for all the wrong reasons, and yet he can’t bring himself to care when the elder Semi places your trembling hand in his. A perfect fit.

From there, the rest of the ceremony passes in a blur. Vows are spoken, yours somewhat apprehensively, and rings exchanged, and when the time comes to kiss his lovely bride, Oikawa obliges, his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him, dipping you to a flurry of raucous cheers and clapping.

You stand dutifully at his side as the hoard of well wishers come to congratulate him – the both of you, technically – and pay their respects, saying little beyond the expected pleasantries. All the while his thumb strokes along the back of the hand you have placed in his. 

Cocktails. Dinner. Toasts. The cutting of the cake. Tossing your bouquet. Necessary traditions expected of you both, Oikawa suffers patiently through each of them until finally, it comes time for the two of you to leave.

The moment he has you alone, in the backseat of the wedding car, the last frayed tether of his self control snaps, and he’s on you.

Leaning across the seat, one hand cups the back of your neck, anchoring you in place as his parted lips crash greedily against your own, the other pulls at your skirt, blindly seeking the what awaits him beneath.

Oikawa can taste the notes of champagne on your lips, the sweet tartness of the chocolate dipped strawberries he watched you swipe from the dessert table before you left. Will your cunt taste as sweet, he wonders, his tongue sliding into your mouth in search of more.

“Tooru,” you gasp when he eventually draws back, a thin strand of spit connecting your mouths as you struggle to catch your breath. “Wait, just–”

“No,” he growls, tightening his grip and dragging you back in. 

The force of it, his kiss, the weight of him bearing down on you has you sliding awkwardly back in the seat ‘til you’re almost horizontal. Despite that, you make no further attempts to dissuade him, letting him kiss you senseless. 

Letting him ruck up your skirt and run his fingers along the seat of your lace panties.

Maybe because you know it’s pointless to fight when Oikawa’s made it clear has no interest in stopping or slowing down, maybe because you knocked back one too many glasses of champagne at the reception, or because you’re getting swept up along with it too – he doesn’t care for the reasons. 

He’s been waiting all day to finally have you, and for years before that, and now that you’re irrevocably his, Oikawa fully intends on taking – and enjoying – what he’s owed. 

The drive is fifteen minutes from the reception to the hotel, and by the time the driver pulls to a stop out front, Oikawa’s sliding those same panties off your smooth legs, pocketing them with a wicked grin. “Ready, sweetheart?” he purrs.

A little dazed, a little drunk, you only manage an unsteady nod, taking your husband’s proffered hand to step from the car and hastily adjust your dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. A waste of time, in his opinion, considering what he has planned for you, still, sort of cute, in its own way.

The clerk behind the counter is friendly enough, smiling politely and congratulating the two of you as he passes across the keys to the honeymoon suite. The second the doors to the elevator slide closed, Oikawa’s on you again, shoving you back against the mirrored wall, latching onto your neck, sucking and nibbling on the delicate flesh and palming at your tits as you throw your head back and heave a breathy sigh. 

Your wedding dress, beautiful as it is, doesn’t make it much further than the front door, Oikawa’s fingers scrabbling to rip open the fastenings at the back, buttons scattering across the floor as it yields to him. And he’s enough of a gentleman to help you out of the wreckage of your dress, though he makes no effort to hide the way he stares hungrily, eyes darkening as you’re bared completely before him. 

The curve of your breast, nipples peaking from arousal, those lovely, soft thighs he’s been waiting to dig his fingers into, the pretty little pussy you shyly try to hide from him, glistening from his earlier attention–

His cock twitches in anticipation. 

Fuck.

“No bra?” he teases, as if his voice hasn’t dropped an octave at the sight of you. “And here I was looking forward to unwrapping my pretty bride on our wedding night.”

He watches your brow furrow as the soft dig works its way through your tipsy haze, and before you can let yourself get upset by it, Oikawa grabs you again. Kisses your lips fleetingly and grings, tugging you towards the bed covered in rose petals, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket and tossing it aside as he does so.

“Lie down for me,” he commands, working on the buttons of his shirt, his bow tie already lost somewhere in the fray. “On your back.”

Obediently you settle on the mattress, propped up on your elbows as he sheds that too. Through glazed eyes you stare at him. At his bared chest–

No, he realises belatedly. You’re staring at his tattoos, your eyes trailing from his forearm to his bicep, rounding his shoulder and down his pectoral, following the snarling red dragon that curls up his right arm, the oni and the twin snakes baring their fangs on the left.

This is the first time you’ve seen them, yes, but they shouldn’t come as a surprise. Both your brother and father have their own, it’s the mark of the Yakuza, and yet you seem entranced by his, staring at them with something akin to wonder. 

“See something you like?” he asks, chuckling when you pointedly ignore him.

His ego stroked, he settles down on his knees at the foot of the bed. Holding you by your hips, Oikawa hauls you forward, ignoring your startled squeak, and nudges your thighs further apart. Licks his lips and lifts his lust darkened eyes to meet your own.

He watches you inhale, a flutter of trepidation teasing at the edges of your expression.

All you can seem to manage is a shaky, “Please.”

And he doesn’t know if you’re asking him to stop, or slow down or if it’s a plea for him to hurry up and get on with it. Again, it hardly matters – he has no intention of letting up tonight.

Leaning in, his nose skims along your inner thigh before he comes face to face with your pussy. Warm and glistening, clit nice and puffy, he’s waited long enough to taste you. 

His mouth descends, tongue dragging along your pussy with broad strokes that have you gasping, jerking in his hold. It’s not the sweetness of your lips, still, there’s something heavenly about the taste of your cunt, the soft, feminine musk that envelops him. He moans against your sex, the vibrations drawing another whimpering breath as your hips arc up, gently rolling against his face in search of more friction.

Fuck that’s hot. 

Oikawa teases at your clit, drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking gently, letting the very tip of his tongue flick at it, before returning to lap at your folds. 

“T-Tooru–”

A moan slips from you, your hips bucking as his tongue delves deeper, pushing between your slick folds, sucking and slurping, waggling his tongue back and forth to drive you to the point of madness. Your hands fist at the white sheets, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to try and stifle all of your pretty noises while he eats you out, tits heaving with every stuttered breath. 

Now that just won’t do. 

Adjusting his grip, Oikawa breaks away and instead brings his fingers to your cunt, teasing at your lower lips, before finally sliding two fingers inside of you with a smirk. 

And your pussy’s so wet, so fucking needy, clinging to the digits as they slowly stretch your tight little hole out. It’s not enough. He knows it’s not enough, sees the frustration pinching at your face every time you chase his fingers when they withdraw. He can’t resist holding out just a little while longer, though.

Call it male pride, the twisted satisfaction that coils deep in his guts at the sight of you desperate and fighting against yourself to beg him for what you truly want– and he hasn’t even started fucking you yet. 

“You wanna cum, don’t you baby?” he croons softly, “Just tell me what my pretty little wife needs.”

It takes a minute or two of that slow, agonising pace, but as you writhe and whine and jerk against his hold, finally your pride gives way. “Please!” you pant. “Please Tooru, more. I-I need more. Just hurry up and fuck me!”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers inside of you to rub at your g-spot as he leans down and resumes sucking at your neglected clit. 

Whatever his wife wants. 

—

Oikawa takes a slow drag of his cigarette, the tip glowing cherry red in the dark, and exhales into the cool night air.

“Whose?” he asks.

Iwa shrugs, “Dunno yet. Mattsun reckons one of the Osaka assholes trying to cut into our territory. So far they aren’t talking.” 

Oikawa’s attention shifts for a moment. Sure enough, the last two gang members have been dragged off to have a chat with Makki and Matsukawa. The latter of the two currently straddling one of them, beating him into the ground, Makki tightly gripping the other’s face forcing him to watch. 

There’s nothing but cold certainty in his voice when he simply says, “They will.”

He drops the cigarette to the ground and grinds the smoldering embers beneath the heel of his shoe. Without another word he strides into the warehouse – a makeshift den. 

The bodies haven’t been touched yet, lying where they fell in pools of congealing blood, scattered bullet casings littering the ground around them. Oikawa pays them no mind. Instead he glances at the pallets strewn across the warehouse floor, brick upon brick of drugs, cocaine, meth, bundled baggies of non-descript little pills. More than he can count, at any rate.

And there’s cases of weapons too. Nothing flash or fancy, but guns are guns, and Oikawa’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Iwa’s silent beside him, gazing around the room with a shrewd look in his eye, likely trying to calculate the street value of it all.

Ever the businessman. 

Oikawa smirks.

Drugs will sell no matter what they’re cut with. It’s impossible to tell the quality by sight alone – retrieving his switchblade from his jacket pocket, he slices one of the bricks open, dips a finger in and swipes it along his gums. 

It takes only a second for that familiar rush of euphoria to wash over him, a pleasant shiver rolling down his spine. He grins. “It’s good. Pure.” A glance to Iwa, watching at his side, “How much?”

“Gotta be more than 300 pounds here.”

And fuck if he doesn’t like the sound of that. Oikawa whistles, unable to hide the smug satisfaction on his face. 

“There’s girls too,” Yahaba, one of his men, says, stalking in from the back. “Mad Dog’s with ‘em.”

Five of them, he counts when he follows his lieutenant, huddled up out by the rear entrance, cringing away from the scowling blond who looks as if he’d love nothing more than to tear them apart, one after the other. 

Part of the shipment, or merely entertainment, he wonders. 

He steps closer, grabs one of the girl’s faces and forces it upwards, tilting it this way and that, studying her like a prize mare at auction. Clear eyes. Clean hair. No sign of bruising under the thickly applied – now smudged – makeup. Girls fresh off the proverbial boat tended to be drugged to high heaven to keep them compliant. 

Even their clothes, the scraps they still have on at least, point towards a more established lifestyle. 

Escorts, no doubt, brought along by the men for some entertainment while they guarded their stash before transport.

Shoving her away, Oikawa exhales, bringing his hand to his chin as he ponders the options. 

Nobody will miss the girls if he orders Kyoutani and Yahaba to kill them. Either they’re owned by the same people who shipped in the drugs and the weapons, in which case their deaths’ll be chalked up to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they have a pimp, who beyond the loss of income, won’t give a shit. 

No one kicks up a fuss over a few dead whores.

And even if they did, Oikawa owns the working girls in this city, this is his fucking turf. They should know better than to send their girls out here. 

Yahaba and Kyoutani are both watching him carefully, awaiting the order. They wouldn’t so much as blink if he told them to cut the girls down right where they stood. 

If he were feeling particularly generous, he could let them go, run on back home to whatever brothel they crawled out of. Unfortunately for them, he’s all too aware that the only things girls like them are quicker to open than their legs are their mouths, and that just won’t do.

At the end of the day, though, a whore’s a whore; they’ll make money one way or another. Even the ugly ones. 

“Take them back to Hirama’s, she’ll find work for them. Who knows, Mad Dog,” he says, throwing his enforcer a wry grin and a wink, “If you’re lucky, she might even let you fuck one of them first.”

The blond scowls, even under the flickering lights he can’t hide the pink flush that stains his cheeks. 

Iwa raises an eyebrow, snickering at Kyoutani’s expense, “You think so? I thought she was still pissed at him for breaking the last one.”

“Mad Dog just likes to play rough, that’s all,” he smirks. “Hirama knows that, and besides, she owes me a favour.”

The girls are already out of his mind as he turns to leave, carrying on his conversation with Iwa. Tonight’s endeavours have been surprisingly fruitful – enough that he can’t justify being pissed off at getting called away in the middle of fucking his wife.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t itching to return.

He’s almost at the warehouse door when a clamour breaks out behind him. Yahaba curses, a few of the girls shout, and there’s a gasped “Wait!” called out. 

Oikawa whirls to find one of the escorts, a slight blonde with painted red lips and wide doe eyes, ducking out from under Kyoutani’s outstretched arm. 

She ignores the snarl from Kyoutani, the pistol Iwaizumi instinctively whips out, focused wholly on him as she grabs at his arm and clings to it, presses her lithe, scantily clad body close, “Wait,” she says, tears glimmering in her eyes even as she tries for a convincing sultry look, “Don’t send me away, I– we could–”

He doesn’t wait to hear what the two of them could do, backhanding her hard enough that she sprawls to the ground with a ugly cry. 

“Whores don’t get to touch,” he sneers, spitting on her curled up figure for good measure.

Good mood all but evaporated, he meets Kyoutani’s eye as the blond snaps forward to grab her by the arm and roughly haul her back to her feet. 

“If they decide to be difficult, get rid of them.”

—

She made us. She’s pissed.

Oikawa glances up at the approaching sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor. Quick. Agitated. Kunimi wasn’t wrong, it seems.

Mere seconds later, the door to his study is thrown open, and in you stalk; a storm of beautiful fury. “You’re having me followed?!”

Smoothly, he pockets his phone and rises to his feet. “Ah, there you are, sweetheart. I was wondering when you’d be getting back.” He takes a long, lingering look at your outfit; the red knit, halter dress that clings so beautifully to the curves of your body. “Gone for hours at a time, dressed like that… What’s a husband to do?”

The grin on his face is nothing short of a challenge.

“So you think I’m cheating on you, is that it?” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really think so little of me?”

He comes out from behind his desk and mimics your posture, arms folded as he leans back against the varnished surface and meets your narrowed gaze. “Do I need to remind you, baby, of what’d happen if you were?”

And if he weren’t staring at you so intently, if he didn’t know your expressions and body language inside and out, perhaps he might’ve missed that tiny flicker of fear in your eyes. 

Not a confirmation exactly, yet enough for him to know he’s not entirely off the mark, and oh how that makes him burn. 

“You’d… divorce me and take away my family’s protection,” you mutter, your tone more petulant now than angry. 

Oikawa nods, “On paper, yes.”

“On pa– what do you mean on paper?” 

His lips curl into a cruel smile, “That was our deal, wasn’t it? Either one of us cheats, and our contract becomes void.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “That’s what I just–”

“That’s all. The contract becomes void on paper. It means that if I decide I want to get rid of your father myself, no one’ll stop me. No one would fucking dare.” He pushes off the desk and closes in on you – a tiger stalking its prey. “And that brother of yours. Your shining white knight. What do you think I’ll do to him?”

His voice is soft, sweet almost. A loving caress, if not for the terrible words he speaks. But he wants you afraid, wants you terrified. Two fingers gently tilt your chin upwards, and he basks in the way you flinch from him, the alarm you seem so desperate to tamp down bleeding all over your lovely face. 

“And me?” you whisper. Would you kill me too, he reads in your eyes. 

“You really think so little of me?” he parrots back, sickly satisfied when your stricken expression stutters. “You’re my wife; I love you, you know that. Why would I go to all the trouble of making you mine just to throw you away so heartlessly?” 

He sees the flicker of confusion in your eyes, and the moment your lips part he’s kissing you, tamping down any protest. Devouring, though, would probably be a better word. Kissing to bruise, to hurt. To claim. Teeth harshly nipping at your bottom lip, Oikawa moans when he tastes the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. 

It’s not enough, though.

You make the mistake of trying to wriggle out of his hold, whining pathetically into the kiss, and the last meagre tether on his composure snaps. The desk is only feet away, but he doesn’t have the patience to drag you over to it when the wall is right fucking there. 

Breaking away, he grabs your sides and roughly spins you around, slamming you back against the door hard enough for a pained gasp to leave your lips.

“Tooru– Tooru, wait, please!”

No. He’s never been cruel to you – not how men can truly be cruel – tonight, though, he can’t be bothered caring about the tears spilling from your lashes or the panicked shriek you give when he hikes up the skirt of your dress and yanks your panties aside.

“I haven’t– I wouldn’t–” you keep babbling – he pays it no mind as he hurriedly frees his cock from his pants and lines himself up. 

“You’re mine,” he hisses, sheathing himself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust. “My pretty wife.”

Your cries are louder now, agonised and wailing, Oikawa’s long past the point of caring, though. His staff know better than to pry, and his men won’t intercede on matters between their Oyabun and his wife, no matter how loud you get. 

This is between you and him. 

“You think I don’t know about the texts you hide?” Another thrust. “The calls, late at night? Your disappearing act last week?” His hips clap against your backside, his pace vicious and unrelenting.

The dryness of your cunt makes it an unpleasant start, yet it hardly takes long before your syrupy slick begins to coat his length, easing his passage no matter how violently he pounds into you. 

And despite your whimpers and hitched pleas, how you struggle fruitlessly against him, the plush, velvety walls of your heat cling to his cock, sucking him deeper with each fevered stroke. He pushes himself closer to you, buries his face in your hair and breathes deep, relishing how you shake and tremble as he stuffs you full, your poor little pussy moulding to the shape of his dick. 

As if he can imprint himself permanently inside of you if he just fucks you well enough.

The door shakes against its stop every time he slams you against it, and that, plus your sweet sobs and the panting breaths you share, is almost enough to drown out the slick, gushing sound coming from your pussy and the rapid paps of his balls hitting your top of your thighs.

Almost, but not quite. 

He’ll never tire of fucking you, not when your cunt’s so warm and you feel this good squeezing and fluttering around him. Oikawa’d rather die than ever give this up, and with a fist tangled in your hair, he yanks your head back to whisper as much in your ear. Drags his hungry mouth over your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft, supple flesh for good measure. 

You shudder around him, and he groans in pleasure. His wife. His. 

“I haven’t… fucked him,” you gasp out, mewling as his cock hits a sweet spot, deep inside of you. “It’s not like that.”

His expression darkens, a scowl twisting at his lips at the mention of your would-be lover. “End it,” he snarls, “or I’ll kill him myself.”

—

Less than two weeks later, Oikawa's being driven to an important meeting when Iwaizumi’s phone suddenly blares to life.

He pays it no mind, content to let his oldest friend handle whatever issue has sprung up while he busies himself with retrieving his cigarette case from the breast pocket of his jacket. Flicking the silver lid open, Oikawa slips one out and mindlessly offers the case to Iwa – who ignores it entirely  – as he pats his other pockets in search of his lighter. 

“When?” 

He knows that flat tone all too well, and glances up sharply to find Iwa staring ahead, his jaw set, face grim. Whoever’s on the other end of the line speaks for a moment more, the volume too low for him to discern what they’re saying. Whatever it is seemingly does little to set Iwa at ease. 

“Fuck… Alright, get back to the house. Tell Makki and whoever else is there not to let her out of their sight ‘til we get back.”

“What is it?”

Iwa sighs, pocketing his phone and pressing the button to lower the partition between them and the driver, “There was a drive-by downtown fifteen minutes ago. Semi Takuma’s dead.”

—

For a man who once helmed one of Tokyo’s most formidable syndicates, your father’s funeral draws a pitifully small turnout.

Oikawa could blame the weather, the dreary grey sky and the rain clouds that show no sign of letting up for keeping mourners away. The truth of the matter, however, is simply that by the end of his life, Semi Takuma’s friends were few and far between. He recognises all bar a few of the faces in the crowd, most of them from his own family, there not to pay respect to the dead – the elder Semi inspired little of that – but in support of you, the beloved wife of their Oyabun. 

Clinging to his side under the awning, your face wet with fresh tears and eyes puffy and rimmed red from the countless that had come before. Perhaps the only true mourner in attendance. Not even your brother, standing stone faced at the temple doors, greeting those who’ve bothered to turn up, seems to be able to muster much grief for the man he called a father. 

Briefly, it occurred to him that you might’ve been the one behind the hit. A cold hearted, calculating move to be sure, still, even you must recognise what you’d stand to gain in removing a bargaining chip from the board.

Could you do it? Kill the man who raised you? Who loved you, and sold you like cattle to save his own skin despite it? You’re not like Oikawa, you’re not even like your brother; you’ve never had the heart for their kind of corruption. He’d never peg you as a killer, even via proxy, but… maybe he’d pushed you too far that night in his study. 

Desperate people do desperate things.

And yet Oikawa hadn’t come home that day to crocodile tears or smirking pride, only pain and heartbreak and clenched fists beating at his chest as you sobbed yourself hoarse and broke against him.

‘You promised! You promised you’d protect him!’

He’d taken the blows, held you tight until the tears subsided. Kissed you so tenderly as your fingers curled into his shirt and you buried your face above his beating heart. 

It’d be a lie to say that he cares one way or another about your father’s death beyond the implication of trouble brewing, but this – your sweet dependency, how desperate you’ve become for any semblance of comfort in his arms (however temporarily) – Oikawa wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

He sighs heavily, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “We gotta go in. It’s almost time.”

Finally, you lift your face, lips parting to say something, only to fall silent instead, your expression morphing into one of shock as you spy something over his shoulder. 

Oikawa turns sharply, following your gaze. Sure enough, standing under an umbrella near the old, wooden pillars by the temple gates is a dark haired man dressed in a black suit. Familiar, though when he racks his brain to try and place from where, he comes up with a blank. That in itself is enough to unsettle him. 

And while there’s nothing threatening in his stance, no obvious bump or crease in the line of his suit to suggest a concealed weapon, he knows better than to assume this stranger isn’t carrying, much less that he isn’t a possible threat. 

Oikawa hasn’t gotten to where he is today by ignoring his gut. 

“Tooru,” your voice is quiet. Hoarse. And though you clutch at his larger hand, tugging at it with insistence, he doesn’t budge. “Let’s go inside. Please, Tooru, I can’t– I can’t do this without you.”

Your father was not a well loved man, and they’ve yet to find any solid leads as to who’s responsible for the hit against him. If the man by the gate had so much as a hand in it–

He makes a snap decision. “Stay with Iwa,” he orders, prying his hand from your grip with what little gentleness he can muster. “If he tells you to do something, you do it.” Even as he spits the words, hears the sharp hitch in your breath as your fingers scrabble to keep their grip on him, his attention remains firmly fixed on the dark haired figure. 

Yet the stranger makes no move to enter the temple grounds, seemingly content standing in the rain under the cover of his umbrella, staring right back at Oikawa.

… No. Not at him, he realises after a beat. He’s staring at you. 

“Tooru, don’t!” you cry.

Two words. 

With a painful slowness, he turns back to look at you. Narrowed eyes sweeping across your face, studying it with a frightening intensity. You’ve never been able to hide your feelings from him; he can read you like a book, knows you like the back of his hand.

Your expression is twisted. Agonised, but not with the raw, aching grief you’ve succumbed to over the past few days.

It’s fear that shines in those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Panic.

Two words, a tightening grip, and Oikawa understands. 

“Please,” you beg, clutching at him desperately. “We’ll go inside and just forget all about this, okay? I told him not to come, I swear! I-I told him–”

You’re starting to hyperventilate, short, squeaking breaths shaking your frame. Like a bunny, cornered and frightened, cowering from the jaws of the big, bad wolf. 

He grins. Takes both of your trembling hands in his, lifts them to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of each. Kisses the glittering diamond atop your ring finger last of all. “Baby,” he purrs, silk over a razor’s edge, “Do what I tell you. Stay with Iwaizumi.”

His second is already there. Has been since the moment he clocked the interloper, maybe even before Oikawa did. Without a word he takes you from Oikawa, sweeps you back with a strong arm curled around your waist and holds you there, struggling pitifully against him. Mere feet away your brother watches on, jaw set, hands clenched into fists by his side, glaring at the both of them as you beg and cry softly in Iwa’s arms. 

Oikawa doesn’t even bother acknowledging his presence. Eita can glower and sneer all he likes, they both know he won’t interject. Not with this. Not against them.

Not even for you. 

Pulling his umbrella from the stand, Oikawa opens it with a flourish, spares you one last grin, and steps out into the lashing rain. 

“Relax, pretty girl. He and I are just gonna have a friendly chat, that’s all!”

The sound of your sweet begging follows him until distance and the rain drown them out. 

Closer now, he gets a better look at the man who fancies himself in love with you (and he’d have to be to risk coming here, knowing who your husband is).

His face is pretty enough, he supposes, fine, delicate features with eyes a piercing, gunmetal blue. His hair’s short, dark – messy and windswept – and yet the rest of his appearance; the well tailored suit, polished black oxfords, even the watch that pokes out from under his sleeve; they give the impression of someone put together. Methodical, even. 

He can’t be much older than Oikawa, if he’s older at all, and he stands a few inches shorter, his build perhaps a fraction slighter. And if the man has tattoos – if he’s from another syndicate – they’re covered as his are, hidden beneath his clothes. 

Unlike Oikawa, though, he isn’t smiling. 

“You know who I am.” 

It’s not a question, he doesn’t phrase it as such, however the dark haired stranger nods anyway; a short, sharp jerk of his chin. “Oikawa Tooru. I know plenty,” he replies bluntly. 

“Good,” he says. “Now, I have a funeral to get to, a grieving wife to comfort, so I’ll make this quick. Showing your face here today was a ballsy move, I’ll give you that, it was also incredibly stupid. See, the thing is; I love my wife. More than some little shit like you could possibly begin to understand, but I’d sooner chain her to our bed and break every bone in her fucking body than let her touch another man, much less leave with one.

“If I were you, I’d tuck tail and run. Find some other city, some other man’s wife to pant after, because if you don’t…” he trails off, finally dropping his charming smile, “I’m gonna take my time killing you, and I’ll make her sit through every last second.”

The stranger says nothing, expression carefully blank, save for the slight narrowing of his eyes. They shift, sliding past Oikawa to gaze at the temple – or more accurately, at you, watching the interaction unfold from the safety of Iwa’s grasp. 

After a moment, he looks back at Oikawa. “My condolences,” he says, and without another word, walks away.

—

Weeks ago, you’d stormed into his office, claws out and itching for a fight after finding out he was having you followed. 

When he brings you back in the days following the funeral and tells you that you’re not allowed to leave the comfort of the sprawling estate without him by your side, you simply stare at the rug by his feet and in a tight, controlled voice, ask why. 

Sighing, as if your refusal to meet his gaze physically wounds him, Oikawa takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently – lovingly – and leads you across the room to sit. Or, more accurately, he sits, and you somewhat reluctantly allow yourself to be tugged down onto his lap. “We still don’t know who killed your father, it’s not safe for you to be out there without me,” he murmurs, his palm grazing along your thigh in a false show of comfort. 

Not a lie per se.

“Can you blame me for being overly cautious, baby?” he asks, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of you – jasmine and vanilla, the faintest hint of citrus – has his blood stirring, sends a pang of heady want straight to his cock. God, he’d fucking lick it off of your skin if he could. “I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt,” his fingers creep up under your skirt, his lips littering the curve of your throat with soft little kisses, “I like knowing my beautiful, lovely wife is safe and sound at home, right where I left her.”

…Until one day, you aren’t.

Divorce papers, signed in your name lay atop the mahogany desk in his study. Your wedding and engagement rings carefully placed next to your signature; impossible for him to miss. 

Not a spur of the moment scramble for freedom, then.

The estate is eerily quiet. Not the calm before the storm. The blood on the gravel of his driveway, a stolen wife, Makki riddled with bullets – the storm’s already begun. Ripped its way through his home and family. This, this is the eye of it.

“How?” his voice is ice.

Kindaichi scowls, glaring at nothing in particular. He knows as well as Oikawa does; keeping an eye on you today was his responsibility, and in the wake of your disappearance–

“Bedroom window,” he admits with a frustrated huff. “She said she was tired and wanted to lie down for a bit. What was I supposed to do, follow her in there?”

Oikawa’s eyes flash, and Kindaichi’s jaw snaps shut. “And Makki?” he presses.

“Makki wasn’t supposed to be here. I dunno know why he showed up when he did. I guess he saw her running and tried to stop her and–” he breaks off abruptly, suddenly interested in looking anywhere except at the steaming Oyabun.

“… And?” Oikawa hisses, dropping the papers and rounding on his subordinate. “And what?”

“It was him. The guy Iwa says you’re looking for, the one you ran into at the funeral. Her–” he stumbles over the word, and changes tactics. “… He shot him. Came outta fucking nowhere.”

Fury rises up, choking at him as his blood roars, and for a moment, he can’t speak. Of course you hadn’t been the one to shoot Makki. You, who’d never so much as held a gun. You, who abhorred the more violent aspects of his life. You, who ran off with a fucking–

“Get out.”

He waits until the door shuts before fishing his phone from his pocket. Scours through his contacts until he finds the one he’s looking for. 

It rings once. Twice. Three ti–

“Oikawa,” Eita greets, and there’s something in that tone, beyond the irritating arrogance and barely concealed disdain he usually holds for his brother in law that has him narrowing his eyes. He sounds almost… pleased.

“… You knew,” he surmises after a beat. “You fucking knew?!”

Eita snorts. 

“Are you honestly surprised, Oikawa? Not so easy to keep your wife in line when your leverage gets gunned down in broad daylight, is it?”

Oikawa’s grip on his phone tightens, and he draws a sharp breath in through clenched teeth. “You think I won’t come after you?” he seethes. 

“You’re more than welcome to try, asshole. I watched you hold me and him over her head for too fucking long, watched you hurt her, try and break her. I’ve been waiting for this a long, long time.”

“Tell me where she is, Eita.”

Silence greets him, and when he pulls the phone from his ear, the call’s been disconnected. He swears viciously, tossing it aside. Planting both of his hands against his desk, Oikawa hunches over and breathes raggedly, waiting for the white haze of pulsing anger to abate.

You left him. You left him. You left him. You left him. You left him.

The rings you left behind stare mockingly back at him, and he makes his decision. Snatching them both up, he shoves them in his pocket and rounds the desk, yanking open the right hand drawer to grab the pistol he keeps stashed away in there.

With a cold focus, he slips out the magazine, checks the rounds and jams it back into position, cocking the slide to load it before tucking it in the back of his waistband.

He told you once what he’d do if you ever laid a finger on another man, the lengths he’d go to to keep you his. Told your trigger happy lover, too. 

What happens next; well, you can’t say he didn’t warn you.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon

[captainsophiestark]

Fresh Start

Stefan Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Prompt: “We all have our reasons”

Summary: Y/N is a non-practicing witch, living her own peaceful life in a small town after running away from home a few years ago. Stefan shows up looking to do the same thing and pretending to be human, although Y/N realizes he's a vampire on-sight. They don't press him, though, even as they start dating. When things start to get more serious, however, they can't continue ignoring the secrets and truths of each others' pasts.

Word Count: 2,228

Category: Fluff, little bit of Angst

Warnings: Mentions of an abusive family, no details or descriptions

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"We're closed- oh, hey Stef."

"Hey, Y/N." My friend and boyfriend of about the last month gave me a small smile as he walked through the door of my bar. We were closed for the night, so I'd briefly been bracing myself to throw out somebody who didn't realize or want to accept that fact, but Stefan came to spend time with me as I closed things down pretty regularly.

We'd met in this same bar just over a month ago. Stefan had just arrived in town, and after moving into his house on the edge of town, he'd wandered into the bar to start introducing himself to everyone. I'd served him a drink while we chatted, and we'd actually hit it off the bat fairly quickly, which I hadn't been expecting to do with a vampire.

He hadn't officially told me he was a vampire yet, of course. But I was an out-of-practice witch. And just because I'd left my coven and come here for a different life, didn't mean I couldn't still clock a vampire from a hundred yards out.

Stefan and I had been on a few dates since we'd first met, and I kept hoping he'd trust me enough to confess his secret to me himself. Every time I thought he might be working up to it, however, he talked about something else instead. For whatever reason, he seemed hell-bent on pretending to be human while he lived in this place.

I couldn't exactly blame him, since I'd been doing the same thing since I'd left my coven at 18. Still, I at least wanted him to trust me enough to let me in the loop.

"How was work today?" asked Stefan, pulling up a barstool and watching me as I wiped down the counter. I shot him a smile.

"It was fine. Nothing too crazy, no rowdy patrons or strange and mysterious newcomers." He huffed a laugh at that, and I grinned before continuing. "Overall, I'd say it was an average day. How about you? How's the garage?"

"It's good," he said. Within a few days of arriving, he'd gotten a job at our local mechanic shop fixing up cars. I knew for a fact he was being underpaid, but he didn't really seem to care. "I got to work on an old Thunderbird today, which almost made the oil stains on every piece of clothing I wore today, somehow including my underwear, worth it."

I laughed at that, and Stefan gave me a pleased smile. I finished wiping down the counter and tossed the rag, then walked around the counter to take the barstool beside Stefan. The only thing left for me to do was put up the chairs, turn off the lights, and lock the doors, but Stefan and I had made a routine of hanging out here a bit longer than we necessarily needed to as a mini, casual date.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good day," I said. "And that you changed your clothes before coming to see me."

Stefan smirked and hummed, then reached forward to pull my barstool even closer to him. He leaned forward, resting one arm against the bar counter and around me as he got in my space.

"What's the matter? You don't want the smell of motor oil on all of your clothes?"

"I know it may sound strange, but no. No, I absolutely do not."

Stefan smiled, his eyes intent on my lips as he moved forward and trailed the hand not resting on the bar counter up my thigh. I leaned in a bit too, feeling the pull towards the man I'd fallen for so quickly. We'd kissed before, but this moment felt much more heated and like it might be leading somewhere new.

Just before our lips met, I forced myself to pause. Stefan paused too, respecting my hesitation, even as he raised an eyebrow in silent question. I wanted to take the next step with him, but... I couldn't bring myself to do it when such a massive secret still sat between us. One I was partially aware of, but that he thought I was completely ignorant to, and one that he hadn't even begun to suspect.

"Stef... I really, really like you," I started.

"I feel the same way, Y/N."

"That's good. And I've enjoyed the past month with you so, so much. I want to keep growing with you and spending time with you and experiencing life with you."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

I sighed. There wasn't a hint of judgment in Stefan's voice, but I needed to just spit it out.

"Bu... before we go any further, I think you should tell me why a vampire is hiding out in a small town, pretending to be a car mechanic."

Whatever Stefan had expected me to say, it wasn't that. He leaned back a bit, his eyes wide in shock, and I jumped in with an answer to what I knew would be his first question.

"I'm a witch, Stef," I said. "I don't practice much anymore, but I clocked you for what you are the minute you set foot in my bar."

Stefan huffed a breath of disbelief, blinking a few times before leaning all the way back to sit up straight on the stool. I think he was surprised, more than upset, but the charged, heated air of a moment before had definitely dissipated. He ran a hand through his hair, then cleared his throat.

"Well...As I'm sure you know then, we all have our reasons," he said, completely ducking the question. He stared around the room, doing anything but making eye contact with me.

"Yeah, we do," I said. I was not having the vague answering around questions nonsense. "I was more asking about your specific reasons though, not just the general reasons supernaturals run off to small towns."

Stefan huffed a humorless laugh, then finally looked at me. "You wanna start by telling me your reasons for coming here?"

"Sure." It clearly wasn't the answer he was expecting, but I wanted to be something special with Stefan. If I expected him to be vulnerable, I was perfectly prepared to be vulnerable with him, too. "I grew up in a terrible, abusive family, and so as soon as I could I got the hell out of the house and disappeared to somewhere they'd never care enough to come look for me. I stopped practicing magic altogether because for me, magic is still tied to all those bad memories. So many other witches talk about the freeing, powerful, and peaceful feeling of using their magic, but it hasn't been that way for me since I was a kid. I still grow vervain and some other magic herbs in my garden at home, but that's about it."

Stefan stared at me, clearly surprised by my complete honesty. I'd had a good few years now to process things and get to a place of being more comfortable with where I'd come from and where I was now, although it was never the easiest thing to talk about. But I cared about Stefan, and I trusted him. Whether or not he ended up deciding to share the details of his backstory with me, I wanted him to know mine.

"So..." I started, breaking the silence after a few beats of Stefan not talking. "You wanna share your stuff now? It's okay if you don't, but... I'd really like to be someone you can trust, you know? No big secrets if we're going down the path of a more serious relationship, and all that."

Stefan took a deep breath in and out, looking away from me as he thought. He seemed to make up his mind as he nodded, still staring a hole in the back wall of the bar, and spoke.

"My brother died," he finally said. My heart broke in my chest for him, but I stayed quiet, giving him space to finish. "My brother and a good friend both. We tried to save them, but... as I'm sure you know, sometimes the supernatural bullshit is a little too much to overcome. After that, I just... I needed to get the hell out of our hometown. It was too small, with way too many bad memories. So I did what I've had to do plenty of times in my long, long life. I left, and found a new place to start over fresh. And for the record, I'm not pretending to be a car mechanic. I am a car mechanic."

I huffed a small laugh, giving Stefan a warm smile and the most comforting look I could when he finally turned back to me. I reached across the bar to take his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, which he returned.

"I'm sure this goes without saying, but... I am so, so sorry you had to go through that," I said. "And thank you for sharing your story with me. I know it's not easy to talk about shit you want to leave behind, so... I'm glad we can talk about it, together."

"I'm glad we can talk about it too," he said, giving me a tight smile and squeezing my hand again. I smiled, a little less tinged with sadness this time, and Stefan did too. We held each other's gaze for a moment, letting the loving looks say what words really couldn't, and then I cleared my throat and straightened.

"So... I know I literally just closed this place, and I usually say no when you suggest this, but after getting into our mutual tragic backstories, it feels like a good time for an exception." I stood from the stool and headed around to the back of the bar again, snagging two glasses as I went. "What do you say we drink our favorite drinks, toast to our new-ish lives together in this town where we can comfortably pretend to be humans, and play pool until we're exhausted or the owner of the bar notices the lights and tells us to go home?"

Stefan grinned and stood from his barstool. "Pour me a double of the best bourbon here. I'll rack, and then you'd better prepare to lose."

I scoffed. "Bring it on, Salvatore. I've been in this bar working and practicing my pool game for the past two and a half years. You've got nothing on me."

"Before tonight, I wouldn't have had a very good comeback for that," he said, grabbing the rack and setting it on the felt of the table. "But, you apparently know I'm a vampire, so I can tell you I've been playing pool just about since it was invented. You don't stand a chance."

I grinned as I grabbed our drinks and set them on a table close to the pool table, then pulled down my favorite cue stick from the wall.

"I guess we'll just have to see then, won't we?" I asked. "Age vs. skill, the battle for all time."

Stefan groaned and rolled his eyes, straightening from where he'd almost finished racking the balls to give me a tired, exasperated look.

"That's the first of about a thousand old jokes I'm going to hear from you now, isn't it?" he asked. I grinned, the expression taking on a bit of a maniacal glint.

"Oh, at least."

"Then I guess I'd really better win this game so I have something to use as a comeback, huh?"

"I mean yeah, unless you want to get jokes about your age and about how bad you are at pool."

Stefan sighed dramatically and threw his head back, which made me laugh. He finished racking the table, grabbed a pool cue, and shook out his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight.

"I'll break," he said. I nodded as he stepped up to the table, lined up the cue ball, and hit it with a move so fast I literally almost didn't see it. The cue ball went flying, breaking apart the triangle cluster of balls and knocking two striped balls into pockets around the table.

I gasped, but Stefan acted like he hadn't done anything particularly impressive.

"I guess I'm stripes then, huh?" I stared, mouth open, as Stefan walked around the table to stand next to me. "Your move."

I closed my eyes and swore, and I heard Stefan chuckle next to me. I'd definitely have my work cut out for me if I wanted to beat him, much more than I'd originally expected. One way or another though, I wasn't too concerned. As I stepped up to the table to take my shot, Stefan hovering over me to try to mess up my concentration, I knew we'd have plenty more games just like this ahead of us. Despite the horrible circumstances that had brought us together, we'd found each other, and now we were going to live happy, peaceful lives, together.

Nothing but countless games of pool, terrible age jokes, oily clothing, and everything in between waited on our horizon.

#fictober22 #the vampire diaries #Stefan Salvatore #stefan salvatore x reader #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries oneshot #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore oneshot #TVD #tvd fanfiction #tvd one shot #tvd imagine #tvd x reader #damon salvatore #bonnie bennett #witch #vampire #The Vampire Diares

[ventingfanfics]

hi! can you write a oneshot for shuri based on the song “summer” by the carters please?

Hey hun! I got hyped seeing the song choice, but I just hope you like it! Also, this piece is a continuation of this one-shot.

Summer (Year-Round) Love

You weren’t exactly sure when Shuri had returned home, but it was pure bliss waking up with her beside you. Her leg had been snaked over your hip and she still softly smelled of her perfume. The serene and angelic look on her face as she slept tugged at your emotions, reminding you of the quarrel between you two just a day prior. Both of you had spoken ill towards each other. 

Shuri began to stir, murmuring in the process. She reached for you and fluttered her amber irises open at the lack of access. 

“I’m here,” you warmly said. 

She smiled at your tone and sat up with you. Her visage turned earnest. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to go on our date, I got back later than—“

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re here.” 

When she engulfed you in her arms, you wept. “Baby….” She pulled back concerned, cupping your tear-stained face. “Is this about our fight?”

Sniffling, you nodded. That was exactly it. “I never want it to happen again. There was nothing regular nor small about it. It felt fatal…” You closed your eyes, but the tears still trickled down your cheeks. 

Shuri wiped them away and gave each cheek a fat kiss. “It did feel serious, but you should know you’re stuck with me, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I called your lab stupid.”

“I’m sorry I implied that I made a mistake getting with you.” She cringed. “I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it.”

“And you were right, I was trying to get back at you by being unavailable every weekend, which was childish.”

She nodded. “You were crying for my attention, and it worked. I’m sorry I’ve been boring.”

You shook your head with a scowl. “Shuri, you are not boring.”

“You called me out, babe. I’m basically a grandpa on the weekends.”

You tried to get your words out as you laughed. “No, you’re just tired. Because you work so hard, my love.” You pecked her lips. “But I can do anything with you and still have fun.”

She smiled. “Really?”

“Of course! I just like having you around. And we don’t have to go out every weekend.”

“But we are this weekend. I planned something.” 

It was cute how proud of herself she looked. 

“Aw, sookie, sookie now. When do we leave?”

“I like how you didn’t even try to ask where we’re going.” 

You both laughed.

“‘Cause I know you!”

She kissed you tenderly, tracing the skin on your folded thigh. When your lips smoothly detached, your foreheads stayed close. “Just think of the three r’s.”

“I can definitely rock with that.”

Her face lit up. “Ayeee! Give me some.”

Even though you were confused, you gave her dap right back. “What I do? Ohhh. I said an r word.”

More laughter ensued. 

“I missed this,” you said in unison.

~~~~~~

“Have fun, lovebirds!” Okoye called as you and Shuri departed for your date. 

You grinned. This day was shaping up to be one of your favorites. You got your girl back, you felt the support from others close to you, and your’s and Shuri’s dynamic was reminding you of the past. 

During the travel, however, you couldn’t help but notice that Shuri was quiet. She could be like that sometimes, but you still wanted to make sure she was okay. 

“I’m just a little nervous,” she admitted to you, the wind tickling her curls. 

“Why?” You asked louder than you intended. 

She paused. “I just hope you like it.”

This was the side of Shuri that no one else got to see. She was a boss woman who projected immense confidence. But you would occasionally see her moments of doubt and apprehension. It shocked you sometimes, but you appreciated her vulnerability and knew she was only human.

Plus, you also knew she simply cared. And she still wanted to impress you. You kept her on her toes, which wasn’t a bad thing.

“I usually like what you plan, don’t I?” You respond, stroking her forearm.

“Yeah,” she breathed out, “it’s been a while, though.”

You giggled and squeezed her shoulders. “I’m gonna need for you to relax.”

She smiled, watching you intrigued, and occasionally staring at your lips. Before she knew it, you were both listening to a song by two of your favorite artists: Beyoncé and Jay Z. 

“Mm, I haven’t heard this one…” she mused and listened as you informed her that it was from their joint album Everything is Love. 

You could have sworn you were affecting Shuri, especially every time you sang the chorus with Beyoncé. “Let’s make love in the summertime…” 

She kept her hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride. 

“Perfect song choice,” she commented with a smirk. 

When you arrived at your destination, you understood just what she meant. Herein was a private beach resort just for you. It looked exactly like the pictures you’d googled over the years: the stunning blue water and skies, the pretty palm trees, the regal-looking sand, and the property itself, which was at the center of it all. You could truly make love out here just like the song said. You noticed Shuri staring at your from your peripheral vision.

“What do you think, sthandwa?” You heard her ask. 

“I think it’s every bit of gorgeous,” You answered, meeting her eyes.

She grinned. “Why are you blushing?”

You lightheartedly dismissed her teasing inquiry, further amusing her.  “I’m gonna look inside.” She accompanied you, entering the over-water villa. 

“Wow, babe, you have truly outdone yourself,” You said when the tour concluded. “I’ve never been in a villa over water like this.” And if you disliked it, there was a residence on land for you. 

“My baby only deserves the best,”Shuri replied, intertwining your hand with hers. Not breaking eye contact, she softly trailed her lips over your knuckles. You smiled and kissed her jaw when she spoke again. “Come on, I know you’re starving.”

There was an assortment of food prepared for you, baked, grilled, and with the ripest of fruits and tastiest of beverages. You said grace and dug in. Thankfully, the food was as good as it looked. But you’d expected that. Shuri did everything with precision and excellence. You were the same way and were each other's inspiration.

“So how is Nakia and Touissaint—with his little cute, smart self?” You asked, truly interested. 

“You said it right there, that boy has some serious brains on him! He saw me crying and quickly pieced it together, telling me tomorrow is not promised, so make it right with you.” Shuri shook her head in awe at the memory. You were just as amazed, and touched. “But all that to say, they still think the world of you.” She beamed at you.

“Nakia was so perfect for T’Challa,” You sighed, shaking your head despondently. “Thank Bast, they procreated, though. And you’re a heck of an aunt.” You hoped to keep the mood peaceful. 

“Who, me? I try, I try. I love little man…”

Your smile grew as you listened to Shuri rave about her nephew. Sometimes you’d imagine her as a parent to your child. It wasn’t hard to do. She had both a protective and nurturing nature about her. And the child would likely be brilliant.

“Baby?” Your girlfriend called after a while, breaking you from your stupor. You apologized with a soft chuckle. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“Nothing, just thinking how you’d be a good mom.” You watched her expression morph into a sentimental, longing gaze. 

“Sthandwa, I already cried plenty yesterday, don’t get me started again, I don’t know if I can take it…no, happy tears, I promise. Come here.” She leaned her chair back, giving you room to walk over and sit on her lap. You saw up close how moved she was from your admission. “You always say the sweetest stuff to me,” she said before pecking you. 

“Because I love you.”

“I love you more. Raising a family, is that something you want to do with me?”

“Absolutely.” You laughed when she emotionally pouted again. “I thought you knew this already.”

“I was hoping you still felt this way.”

You held her pendant and kissed her searingly. The kiss deepened as she trailed one hand up and down your side, the other resting on your rear. As your tongues dueled, you could feel your panties moistening. Shuri sucked your tongue, sliding her tattooed hand up your romper and along the fabric that covered your most sensitive area. You flinched against her when she teasingly stroked where her hand lay. 

“Do you see what you do to me?” You whispered, slowly grinding against her cosmic touch. She nodded, pleased at the fact. “Do you like it?” 

“Very much.” Her smile became sly when she dipped her digits past the material, now directly feeling your slick heat. Her eyes pinned you as you reluctantly moved off her. “You want to go inside?” But you had something else in mind. You licked her lips and pecked all over her abs that were exposed from her black crop top. 

“I know you’re just as wet, my Queen.” You held her gaze as you guided her shorts past her hips. She didn’t object and worked with you, undeniably turned on by you and your ministrations.

It was truly music to your ears when she threw her head back, hissing a curse word when your tongue touched her. There wasn’t a spot you didn’t lick nor suck, and she rewarded you with more juices. She particularly enjoyed it when you nuzzled her, the friction making her tremble and moan your name. You pressed the flat of your tongue inside and against her and gripped her in place as she covered your face with her release. “Bast,” she breathed out heavily. 

“Bast can’t help you right now,” You retorted and laughed at her expression. She grabbed your hand when you extended it, kissing you wantonly, and quietly praising your ministrations. She squeezed your waist as you made out again, leading you inside the villa.

She took you into a room where the waves sounded so near. Shuri wasted no time shedding your clothes, cupping your bare breasts. You chuckled at her eagerness.

“We have all night, my love,” You reminded her, earning a slap on your ass.

“I know, but I want you bad.” She bit your neck lightly, your back skin to her front as she walked you to the bed. She laid on the plush bed and made you straddle her. Together, you arranged your legs together in the position where you could feel each other just right. 

As far as you were concerned, this was as good as it got. Feeling Shuri’s sex meld with yours was euphoria at the highest level. And you felt so close to her this way, in body, mind, and soul. You could have cried at how wonderful it all was. She was the only person you wanted to give your body to for the rest of your life, run the nation with, and build a family together with.

#shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #shuri imagine #shuri fanfiction #shuri udaku x reader #queen shuri #shuri black panther #reader imagine #reader request #summer #beyonce #jay z #the carters #black panther imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu shuri #mcu fic #wlw love #wlw fiction #shuri x f!reader #shuri x fem!reader

[mariacallous]

On the night of January 13, 2020, a Kemerovo man named Vladislav Kanyus brutally murdered his 23-year-old ex-girlfriend, Vera Pekhteleva. For hours, neighbors listened to Pekhteleva scream in agony and repeatedly called the police, but by the time officers arrived, she was dead. Kanyus was sentenced to 17 years in prison, while the officers on duty were convicted of criminal negligence and sentenced to probation. But earlier this month, Pekhteleva’s mother learned that her daughter’s killer had been recruited from prison to fight in the war in Ukraine — and was subsequently pardoned by Vladimir Putin. The independent journalists’ cooperative Bereg spoke with Vera Pekhteleva’s mother, Oksana Pekhteleva. With their permission, Meduza has translated the interview into English.

This June, human rights activists and the media started reporting that Vladislav Kanyus may have been released early. When and how did you learn about this?

I found out through social networks; it was all sent to me by friends of friends since I don’t believe in using social media. At first, we [the Pekhtelev family] thought it was fake. [The fact that he was released in April] was kept from us; they didn’t tell us.

In one document [that we received in response to a request to] the Defense Ministry, they said that [Kanyus] wasn’t listed in their ranks — this was, if I’m not mistaken, on July 17 of this year. A little later, another document came, stating that he’d agreed to participate in military operations and had joined the ranks [of the Russian army]. The third document we received said that his criminal record had been expunged. The date of the pardon was April 27, and we only learned about it two days ago.

How did your family react when it was confirmed that Kanyus has been pardoned?

I found out from my ex-husband, my child’s father. The prosecutor’s office sent a response to his complaint and, of course, he forwarded it to me. We were in shock, both Yevgeny Pekhtelev and I. We’re still dismayed. How could this happen?

I’m anxious, it’s very hard for me now. There’s a tremendous siege of journalists, and I don’t like it very much. I would really like the [press] to spread our misfortune as widely as possible but to leave out any statements and comments about our government. I’m so exposed right now that tomorrow they could easily charge me for my negative attitude towards my homeland. I’m not going to comment [on this issue].

When messages started appearing last year about prisoners being recruited to participate in the war, did you think that Kanyus could be among them?

Initially, the thought didn't even cross my mind. I was raised in the Soviet Union; my father is an officer, a lieutenant colonel in the armed forces, a military veteran. I grew up in an educated family; we were always taught to respect the country where we live. And, naturally, we believed we couldn’t be betrayed.

There was information — perhaps in the media — that criminals convicted of particularly serious crimes weren’t taken to war. At least, that’s what they told us Russian citizens. I believed it until I was faced with… I don’t know what to call it.

And I’m not alone — believe me, there are at least hundreds of mothers like me. We live in different corners of our vast homeland. Some are afraid [to go public], some don’t want to, some have given up, and some, because of the statute of limitations, no longer have the physical, yes, and emotional strength.

I’m a very strong woman and a strong person. I understand that this is tilting at windmills, that it will lead to nothing. I feel it. No one will hear us, no one will help us. Absolutely all state media are silent — because they’re not allowed [to write about us], no one has given them the green light. And the so-called armchair commentators will be divided into two groups again. [One side will write,] “I’m sick of this, how much can you [keep thinking about this crime],” and the other half will say that something needs to be done, some effort needs to be made [to put the criminal back in prison].

I believe that the news will resonate with people, but things will stay where they are because we’ve already been through the Supreme Court. And the president’s office has already given us an answer: he pardoned the murderer, the torturer, the monster.

Human rights activist Alena Popova, citing you, wrote that Kanyus was sent to the front even before the cassation [high court appeal] process was complete. How did the hearing go in the end?

It was like a video conference: the murderer didn’t attend the court session, but he signed a document stating that he didn’t object to the proceedings taking place without his presence. Everything went smoothly: we were declined on all counts, politely dismissed — and that was the end of the court session.

I wouldn’t even be surprised if [Kanyus] gets awarded a medal. That would be the most egregious slap in the face — both for me and for hundreds of thousands of women, of families with good kids who are supposed to fulfill their duty of dying [in the war]. And these scoundrels, these leeches, [choosing to go from prison to the front] just to avoid punishment, will walk next to us on our land and also secretly beat, kill, and rape. I just don’t understand who let them get weapons in their hands.

Did you speak with Kanyus during the court proceedings? Did he or his family try to contact you during the trial or after the sentence?

I don’t even want to waste time discussing the family of my child’s murderer — that’s the first thing. Secondly, no one, in fact, gave us the right to talk to him. And how do you imagine this: the mother of a murdered child conversing with the devil? Why would I need him, when I couldn’t even stand to look at him! We communicated through our proxies — a lawyer from his side, a lawyer from our side, nothing more. I don’t want to talk about that scum, that monster. He’s inhuman. I don’t want to and I won’t. I’ll say one thing: that scum is free, and my child has been in the grave for three years.

What do you plan to do next? Will you seek Kanyus’s imprisonment again? And do your lawyers believe this is possible?

I have faith that this is possible — hope, as they say, dies last. But I’m a realist. I’m a pretty educated person, and I keep track of what’s going on in the world. If they decide now to demonstratively send this maniac and pervert back to prison, imagine what the fallout will be. We’re showing mercy and granting freedom to all [inmates] for participating in military service with one hand, and meanwhile, with the other hand, we’re pushing people back into prison who, believe me, do not want to be there. I don’t think it’s politically necessary or appropriate.

We simply found ourselves in this situation through our own misfortune. If it weren’t for the war, [Kanyus] wouldn’t have gone anywhere — he would still be in prison right now. But I have faith. There’s such a thing as divine retribution — the only thing I want is for it to catch up with him. And I don’t care how it happens.

[virtie333]

Day 14 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Parents

Summary: Rey and Poe discuss having children.

Notes: Something a little different. I usually write Rey and Poe having a lot of babies, because I like to live vicariously through them. But what if that isn't what one of them wants?

AO3

It had been a long day, but as Rey settled into her bed next to Poe, she knew it wasn’t over, yet.

She had been thinking a lot of deep thoughts that day. One of her students, a young human boy named Relgan, had hurt himself while out hiking through the jungle around mid-morning. Instead of crying due to the pain or being scared of how badly he was hurt, Relgan had kept apologizing. Over and over again. Rey knew the young boy had been orphaned as a baby and had been raised by the owner of a maintenance shop on Anael. He had not been treated well by the man, and Rey had literally had to buy the child from the man in order to get him away from the slavery he’d known his whole life. Now he was in training to be a Jedi, and was doing well mentally, but he still did and said things that reminded Rey that he was not completely healed from a lifetime of trauma.

“Poe?” she said softly, hoping he wasn’t asleep already.

“Yeah?” He sounded alert.

“I was thinking… I’d like to adopt Relgan.”

Poe turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows high. “Adopt? You’re already his official guardian.”

“I know,” Rey said. “But I feel like if we adopt him, together, that will give him the sense of family that will help him heal even more. Sometimes I think he still sees himself as a slave, even if his current master, me, is good to him.”

“So, you want him to take the Dameron name?” he asked softly.

“If… if you don’t want that-“

“No!” Poe interrupted her. “I don’t mind at all. It would be an honor to call him our son.” He shrugged, giving her a grin. “I always figured we’d become parents someday.”

Rey bit her lip and frowned. Poe noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“About the parent thing,” she said. “Do you want children? Naturally?”

Poe looked at her for a long time, his expression serious. “I guess,” he started. “I never really thought about it. I mean, I guess I thought that, should I ever fall in love with a woman, I wouldn’t be opposed to us having babies together. But as my taste in partners back then was, shall we say ‘lacking uniformity,’ having babies naturally wasn’t always an option.” He paused. “Do you not want to have babies?”

Rey kept her eyes down, and she began picking nervously at a loose thread on the blanket covering them. “I did before,” she finally told him. She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Before I found out who I was.”

Poe shook his head. “Rey, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to your bloodline. You have far too much light in you to worry about your children.”

“Leia was all light, too,” she argued. “And look what happened to Ben!”

Poe reached over and gently stroked her cheek. “Those were extenuating circumstances, but I get it. I understand why you would be afraid.”

“So, you don’t mind that I don’t want children of my own?”

“Of course not,” he confirmed. “We can still be parents for Relgan, and however many other children you feel need a real family.”

She smiled at him, but she still felt sorrow deep inside. Poe seemed to sense it; for a man who could not use the Force, it sure seemed to use him sometimes.

“You can always change your mind, Rey,” he told her. “Just let me know.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She scooched forward and snuggled up against him. “You are going to be an amazing dad.”

“I think we’re going to be amazing parents,” Poe added. “After we mess up a few hundred times, anyway.”

Rey giggled. “How do you know we’ll mess up?’

“Because good parents always mess up,” Poe told her. “But they learn. And they get better. And they never stop loving their kids or each other.”

“Sounds perfect,” Rey said, her eyes closed, a dreamy smile on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

#fanfiction #damerey #jedipilot #poe x rey #life day #parents #found family

[simcardiac-arrested]

Whats wrong with predator 2018?

it’s been like 10 days i’m tired but i CANNOT stay silent anymore The world deserves to know. you will not believe how awful this movie is

1. the moment the movie starts you just understand that it…is not going to be good. it was made in 2018 so of course it has that edgy self aware marvel humor of Uhmm he’s right behind me isn’t he ? (and then you check shane black’s other works and he directed iron man 3 and everything suddenly make sense) LIKE IM SERIOUS there’s just a scene in the first 10 minutes where this Woman In Stem character goes Lol why did we name this thing The Predator? it’s more like a Hunter or a Huntsman it’s more like a Bass Fisherman LIKE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? WHAT AM I HEARING RN? it’s so fucking stupid and i hate this type of humor so much like CAN U BELIEVE WE’RE IN A MOVIE? ABOUT THE PREDATOR (DUMBASS NAME (LOL))????

2. i mention the Woman In Stem character specifically because she is. also not good. i’m not going to act like the predator movies have always been the best with female characters (even 1987 has its issues) but at least they were actually BEARABLE. The girl character in this movie is just like. this annoying 2010s smartass quirky girl archetype that we put in our movie because you wanted Women(tm) right? there she is we even made her quirky!!! we’re not going to give her a single likable quality though. we’re going to write her Bad . is this what u wanted ?

3. which is not trying to imply that the other characters are written Good . they’re all written Bad they all fucking suck. none of them have any charm or likable qualities and there’s nothing to get invested in. AND THEY DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING DYNAMICS BETWEEN EACHOTHER!!!! it’s like they just exist in the same space and that’s It . they don’t get any interesting relationships or interactions . they’re all just so nothing

4. like halfway through the movie it just turns into unapologetic US army propaganda—which is fucking ironic if you know what the original predator was made for (commentary about american terrorism in central america in the 80s under reagan)—the main character’s wife just starts suddenly going off about how he’s so cool and doing so much for his country and he’s in the army waowww wowww We need to shoot everyone who’s worked on this movie and im serious.

5. i…..do not know who this movie was made for. like who is it supposed to cater to? one of its main things is autism and mental illness and yet it has the shittiest portrayal of both. But especially autism. like what if we made a movie about how autism is the next step in human evolution (?!) and autistic people are like superheroes basically (?!?!!!?) and the entire plot hinges on the fact that The Predator wants to become autistic by stealing the autistic character’s autism dna (?!?!?!?!?!?!?? WHAT? WHY ARE THERE EUGENICS IN MY PREDATOR MOVIE? IS ANYONE ELSE SEEING THIS?) (and then the autistic character in question like. actually has unironic superpowers. look he gets overwhelmed by sounds but he can instantly understand and translate predator’s alien language!!!!!!!!) And then the next minute one of the characters says Lol isn’t it crazy how we can’t say the r slur anymore? Fucked up world. LIKE SERIOUSLY WHO IS THIS MOVIE FOR? I FEEL LIKE THIS MOVIE WOULD PISS OFF BOTH THE “WOKE” AND THE “EDGY ALT RIGHT” AUDIENCES EQUALLY . shane black probably thinks autism speaks is a charity i dont even know

6. too much predator in this movie. When i say that they should make a predator movie where every scene has the predator in it YOU SHOULDNT FUCKING LISTEN TO ME IM JUST AUTISTIC. a predator movie is a THRILLER The Fucking Predator himself should appear like. a few times at least until the climax. but nooo this 2018 ass movie just has the predator running around in every scene (btw this predator moves really fucking weird in a human way. Like they usually at least make him move semi alien-like and uncannily, but this movie didnt even bother with that) (also their design is uglier than the original) (also it suffers from the same problem as the 2010 movie by adding a Bigger Cooler Buffer Awesomer Deadlier New Predator LIKE WHO ASKED FOR THIS. WAS MY OG WIFE NOT ENOUGH FOR U) Anyway yeah if you didnt get it yet: this movie doesnt understand what impact or subtlety is. at all

7. the worst thing is with the finale. you see every predator sequel loves to reference the original 1987 movie because well, it’s iconic! it has a lot of meaningful moments and lines! Specifically in the ending of the original movie, where the main character asks the predator “what the hell are you?” and the predator echoes it back at him. Supposed to symbolize us army = monsters who kill without meaning yadda yadda u get it. anyway so in the 2018 movie finale they start to reference this moment too. the main character asks And what the fuck are you (ooo f bomb we’re SOOOO edgy and 2018core) and when the predator starts asking it back the main character just goes SHUT THE FUCK UP���� and shoots him. it’s like. my hatred for this movie was indescribable at that moment. I’ve never actually genuinely watched a marvel movie so i just took people at their word when they said it was a genre of movie that fucking hated movies. but after watching the predator (2018) which is basically a marvel version of predator? yeah i get it. What if they made a movie that hated its source material and had 0 respect for it. and also hated its audience. and hated being a movie

8. they made the dogs ugly

#the one on the left is from the 2010 movie and on the right is from the 2018 #AND LISTEN. THE 2010 MOVIE WAS ALSO BAD. IT SUCKED. BUT AT LEAST THE DOG DESIGN WAS FINE #then in the 2018 movie they were like Waht if we just put a predator face on a dog (????) #god i fucking hate this movie so much i actually cant #everyday i wake up and think about how it has ruined my life in every way possible #i need to watch prey. Badly #cramswering

[rockingrobin69]

Baking Mistakes

To my beloved, most wonderful @getawayfox, with all the love. Happy birthday! 

“Oh no.” Harry could only blink for a long, long moment, before rushing right back into, “Oh no, oh no, Padfoot! Moony! Someone! Help!”

Fuck. Smoke rose, terrifyingly thick tendrils, and was that actual fire in the oven or did he finally lose it? because he might as well have. Lost it. Entirely. School just ended, he was meant to be an adult now, and…

“What is it?” Remus’s voice thundered into the kitchen, only seconds before the man himself. “Sugar beans, Harry, what the—”

“—Fuck have you done!” Sirius wasn’t too far behind. “Mate, you’re burning your pie!”

“You don’t say!” Harry’s screech reached a new, hysterical height. “What do I do? How can I save it?”

“Save it? We need to save the kitchen, you wretched little—”

“Padfoot.” Remus held out his wand, although he did spare a second to rolling his eyes. “With me, on three, everybody. One, two, Aguamenti!”

“You said on three!” Harry exclaimed, same time as Sirius shouted, “You never said what spell!”

“The oven is on fire,” Remus grumbled, a thin but determined spray of water extinguishing the flames. “One would think Aguamenti is—”

“But isn’t this—how’d you call it, eclectic or something?” Sirius cut him off. Harry was too busy pulling his own hair to listen to the reply (“of course not, you absolute goon, this is blah blah blah”).

It was all a colossal waste of time, and Harry couldn’t afford it. “What do I do?” he asked, voice thick with tears. “I need… it’s… I have to make, I mean, the cake was supposed to…”

“Oh,” Sirius said, face going suddenly serious. “Of course. June fourth. Should’ve known.”

“Right,” Remus was giving him a look, that look, and if there was one thing they had absolutely no time for… “Of course, the Malfoy boy. I mean, Draco.”

“D’you think he likes—what’s this meant to be, ash pie?”

“You’re so bloody funny,” Harry murmured, rubbing his eyes hard enough he was seeing stars. “Hilarious. Top comedy. Will you get your fluffing act together now and just tell me what to do?”

“Honestly?” one large hand landed on his shoulder with a thud. “Harry, love. Go to a bleeding bakery. Nothing good’ll come out of this mess.”

“But. But it needs to be… shit.”

He looked up just in time to see his godparents exchange a look. Remus was nodding, and Sirius sighed. “All right, all right. Vanish all of this, and we’ll make something together. When’s he coming over?”

“Erm, six.”

“Right, so that gives us… wait, what? Harry, that’s in twenty minutes!”

“Better work fast then?” he smiled, miserable.

“Buddy, you know we love you, but…”

“Please, please!” Harry was not above begging. “I see how quickly you two get ready in the morning, and you share a bathroom. With your skincare routine and your hair magic, you two have to be the fastest humans alive.”

They both laughed. “Not exactly human, dear godson.”

“If you can doggie style a cake for me—”

“No. Please don’t say that. Never say anything like that ever again.” Sirius was still shivering when he reached him. “Harry, there’s no shame in store-bought. Baking isn’t for everybody.”

“But Draco’s so good at it,” Harry whimpered. “At bloody everything. And I just wanted—never mind. It’s stupid. I’m never going to be… It’s stupid.”

They exchanged another glance, and now both were sighing. “All right, new plan. Moons, you’re watching the door. Harry, you and I are going to make my cousin’s famous no-bake-cake, and we should cut it in… just about. Come on, chop-chop. Remus, love? Don’t let him come in here before ten past, minimum.”

“I’m sure I can stand ten minutes of his fishing for NEWT scores.” Remus made a face, as though he didn’t love what a swot Draco was, didn’t actually prefer him to Harry. Some family, this was. Harry looked at them both, teary-eyed, with gratefulness this time.

“What are you waiting for? Get me the scales. And flour. And Harry… next time you set the kitchen on fire, we’re going to have a very serious talk.”

Harry nodded, a bit choked. “Thank you. Yes. Thank you.”

It wasn’t the best cake he’s ever made, but it was more than enough. Draco was happy, Sirius was happy, Remus was happy, and Harry didn’t burn anything else for the rest of the day. Success, in his book.

Oh, the oven? Yeah, it short-circuited soon afterwards. To be fair, all three residents were too scared to approach it. Good thing Draco will be taking all these muggle-studies courses in uni next year, because the Black-Lupin-Potter household sort of held him responsible for what happened. And counted on him, too.

Families. What can you do.

#drarry #800 words #wolfstar #wolfstar raising drarry #baking a cake #not successfully #we're not all El okay!!! #fluffy drama #there's some innuendos too #sort of #rockingrobin69

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

You know what I just realized? The rant I did for Persephone about her trauma can actually be said for Hades. I know what you’re thinking, “what are you talking about a big chunk of that section was speaking on how Hades’ trauma is treated better than Persephone’s!” which I’m not denying since I did state that, but I only really meant the Kronos stuff that Hades has been suffering through every other season. I’m talking about the relationship with Minthe and Hades.

Listen as much as I relate to and adore Minthe’s character I won’t ever lie or disregard that she was a shitty partner. They both were of course but no one has the right to put their hands on another person and shout all types of insults at them, no matter how much I hate Hades I’m not going to defend stuff like that. But with the presence of his very toxic relationship I think we were genuinely robbed of the effects that it had on him in the long run. We never got to see his thoughts completely and we didn’t get to see how it affected his everyday life, each time there was a toxic panel of Minthe and Hades we got transitioned to the next happy uwu romance scene like nothing ever happened. I’ve never been in a toxic relationship before but I have been through many platonic relationships that were utterly terrible, I know it’s not the same thing nor is it comparable but it’s the only thing I can really speak on that sorta correlates in some way. But toxic relationships, especially those that last a very long time, do indeed affect you and your behaviors you start limiting your emotions and stop doing things that the person you were in that relationship with dislikes. You change yourself entirely since you want to make something out of the scraps that they chose to give you and you’re forced to conform to their ways because you’re under this guise that they care about you and you deceive yourself by giving yourself the comforting thought that “they’d never do this to me” or “we’re friends/lovers so they didn’t mean it” or even “I deserve this treatment.”

These emotions and thoughts could’ve been easily explored during the Minthe arc since especially being a man and being a victim of mistreatment is rare in the media with romantic relationships. This could’ve been a great exploration of mental health issues with men and how getting their feelings and traumas validated should be respected and welcomed within our society, the things that Hades faced would’ve probably reflected that of other experiences that other people faced within similar relationships and it would’ve been a good door for representation for male abuse survivors. But sadly, all of that got overshadowed by the building and foreshadowing of Kronos and Persephone coming into Hades’ life to be the better woman and “heal” him instantly.

Did we see pieces of how Hades was effected by Minthe and the trauma it left him with? Yes, but the thing is we only saw it while we were gathering evidence for Minthe to be season 1’s villain and it felt like it was there for drama only. After Minthe slapped Hades and bruised him no one else should’ve put their hands on one another, I hated how this very serious moment got played for jokes and giggles throughout the comic when it’s obvious that the narrative was trying to argue against stuff like that. I don’t understand why Hades had to immediately be lovey dovey with Persephone as well, something like that happens to you I’m sure the very last thing you’d be worried about is a girl you met a few days ago that you started having feelings for. Maybe instead of that Hecate and Hades had a moment so that he could be properly comforted and talked to in a gentle manner (no I’m not saying use a baby voice or anything but just be a friend??) which would’ve been very powerful and empowering since a lot of men’s traumas do not get validated by others because of the “be a man” stigma. Showing people that men deserve to be sheltered and cared for like a normal human being, especially after something traumatic happened to them, would’ve been adding onto the theme of mens mental health.

Instead of that though we have Hades going over to Hera’s house and seeing Persephone after she lured him outside. Now listen, I understand that maybe he was trying to distract himself from the situation or even trying to forget about it in some way but throughout that whole time Hades never even mentioned or thought about Minthe. He got assaulted physically and a girl he barely knows keeps on touching him and getting close and personal without his content. It would be pretty stressful to deal with and it could’ve went to showcase how much damage this stuff does to people. Abuse is not just something you can forget about entirely to the point it doesn’t exist, you can try but like all trauma it’ll always be there and that’s what Lore Olympus gets wrong every time. They make something traumatic happen with the two characters and only ever validate it to either use it as drama, a plot, or to have a cute moment. And that’s entirely fucked up.

I don’t like how Lore Olympus used Hades being mistreated in his relationship as some one up. “I’m so much better than you because I don’t put my hands on people!” amazing I’m so glad that Persephone is a decent human being but why is that even in the whole “better woman” thing. It’s just weird how they’re using that as some crutch instead of giving the situation the respect it deserves. No one should be putting their hands on anyone and that shouldn’t be something that makes you better that should just be common decency. Same could be said with the whole Hades vs Apollo thing, it’s just depressing honestly that that’s being used as some sort of badge even though the comic should be trying to normalize it. These are normal things, no one should be doing any of that stuff to other people it’s sick and utterly deranged. Stop rewarding the bare minimum.

Anyways, that’s all I really have to say. It’s disappointing that it was used as a way to make a cute uwu moment and I hate how they glamorized it almost immediately after moving on completely. But I’m not surprised since it happens all the time.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lo hades #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical

[my-inner-crisis]

Sometimes you watch a tik tok that enrages you to the point where you want to rant for an hour. So this is it (probably not an hour-length read mind you but ya know).

Two very popular arguments on the clock app have my blood boiling.

1. Where did Lucien’s ACOTAR personality go in the rest of the series?

Oh, I don’t know, let me see. He began the series in relative peace, only having to deal with Tamlin’s ass, which was honestly his least serious problem. Remember how his brothers and father executed his lover brutally and then tried to kill him? He owes Tamlin his life, so you know. In the very beginning of ACOTAR, first thing that happens to Lucien is that his friend, Andras, is murdered in cold blood and SKINNED. Not only does he die, but he’s skinned. After that it’s just downhill for my boy Lulu from there. He is taken under the mountain, tortured to break Feyre’s spirits, UTM is a particularly triggering place to him since he had his eye carved out of his head like 50 years ago, he was so severely beaten and his face was in such a state, it MADE TAMLIN VOMIT. So, he goes back UTM, his mind is held by Rhys like a toy, he’s whipped by Tamlin under Amarantha’s rule, he’s punished for helping Feyre, yet he still goes to help her again. He’s severely abused physically. Good good. Then he comes out of that situation just to find himself in the worst PTSD hours not only for himself, but for Tamlin AND Feyre. He’s caught in the middle, any push he tries to achieve with Tamlin backfires horribly. The High Lord with the power of brute strength hits him. Feyre is scheming and he is aware of it, he gets dragged between the two of them, he isn’t sure what Feyre is up to and tries to go rescue her. He thinks her mind is warped by Rhys who lied so much to him and everyone, Lucien certainly couldn’t guess he was good actually. Feyre leaves Tamlin and messes up the Spring Court in the process, leaving the High Lord to be a useless depression monster, the direct result of that being that he is sexually assaulted by Ianthe. Tamlin has 2 brain cells so of course Hybern double crosses him, which leads directly to Feyre’s sisters being turned fae. Keep in mind that Lucien had no power over Tamlin at any point, you think he’d let himself get dragged into dumb deals with Hybern? Of course not. But now his mate thinks him culpable in her Making, she loses the one she loves due to this and it’s obviously directed to Lucien too, she never asked for a mate, she was happy to marry Graysen, so now Lulu is here courtless (oh no), homeless (so sad), with a mate (yay) who doesn’t want him (noooo) so maybe, MAYBE he is depressed. He finds friends with some sad little humans who also have sad lives like a queen without a throne and a man whose people have been dead for 500 years and the human lands is nothing like it used to be. Lucien is so far away from happiness or even just like a normal, simple day, it’s funny. And we’re surprised he’s not the snarky little rake he was in ACOTAR? Just READ.

2. Elain clearly doesn’t want Lucien and clearly wants Azriel, this is a crack ship

All I have to say to this is the following:

We don’t know what Elain wants, we don’t know why she does whatever she does, we don’t know her motivations and we don’t know how she feels about Lucien. All we know is that she’s reluctant to speak to him and she opposes the idea of mates. It’s fiction, it can go anywhere. SJM could kill half of the characters on one page. Stop arguing with Eluciens (or anyone else) about their ship’s validity. Let me have my cottagecore fantasy with them and maybe you’ll be right, but I can still ship it, even if it doesn’t become canon. It doesn’t have to be correct to be a ship. I used to ship Sasuke with Gaara because they interacted twice and my 14 year old brain was like yes. Just leave people be, let us enjoy our ships 😌

#Elucien #pro lucien vanserra #pro lucien #Lucien vanserra #elucien

[the-missann]

Previous Post

Now, it's time to introduce the characters!

First up, is my main main character

Larson "has a last name but doesn't want to share it"

Larson is a young man who regularly hates people. At first he thought these were just his normal feelings, but he finds out it's actually because he's not even a human, so of course he hates humans!

Well, Larson hates everyone but humans have a special place at the top. His high school career has him spending most his time trying to find any information about his real species.

When his work is left stagnant, that's when he meets someone he didn't expect to.

Here's a scene to showcase his wonderful personality

At the moment, they were at lunch ready to discuss their ideas. Cassie was sitting at the lunch table with her plate full of foods that weren’t good for anyone, including herself. She wiped her hands clean of the bright orange grease from the pizza she finished and now, she was currently eating a sandwich from her lunch bag.

She munched on this food while Larson told her their best odds.

“I don’t know if you can hear me over all that noise you’re making, but if this is screwed up, I won’t think to leave you in a heartbeat.”

Cassie swallowed what she was eating and spoke. “You must really think I’m not in this the same way you are. Look, just because I’m not frowning and getting my big girl pants on doesn’t mean I’m not serious.”

“Could have fooled the hell out of me.” Cassie ignored that and moved her tray over to him. “Why?” Was all he said.

“I’m offering you some. You don’t eat at all, at least whenever I see you, you’re not.”

“Because we don’t get hungry often.”

“I know, but we still have to eat so why not just eat anyways?”

“I eat when I have to. Nothing more.” Larson stated.

Cassie snickered. “You must eat like a salad and some water huh?” Larson grabbed her wrist right before she was about to eat something causing Cassie to drop it. Her other hand grabbed it before she complained to him. “I must be right if you thought to do that.”

He let her hand go and rested his head in his hand. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you!” Cassie returned to eating, but stopped suddenly and looked behind Larson.

He turned his head—curious by what she was looking at—and he saw a girl smiling at them both.

Larson groaned. “What do you want?” He turned back to face Cassie.

Cassie looked at the girl and offered her an apologetic smile.

“Uh, well, I wanted to invite you two to a party I’m throwing…” she trailed, “it’s kind of far from here so if you don’t have a ride-”

“We’re good,” Larson said cutting her off.

“B-but, you can bring each other if you want!” The girl pleaded.

Larson opened his eyes and looked at Cassie. Cassie just kept eating without saying a word. He then sighed and got up facing the girl.

“I know what kind of angle you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not interested in spilling my seed in some worthless being. Not even her,” he said pointing behind him at Cassie.

“Ew.” Cassie mumbled.

The girl's eyes widened. “I-I wasn’t asking you to-”

“Really?” The girl pressed her lips together to Larson's comment. “I mean besides the fact that you always stare at me, you’ve slept with pretty much half the school. So I must be next on the list, huh?”

The girl’s mouth opened and she just took off to the door of the cafeteria. Larson scoffed and sat back down.

Cassie stared at him for a while and eventually Larson let out a groan. “I’ll gouge your eyes out if you keep staring at me like that.”

Cassie clicked her tongue. “See? Like that.”

“What are you talking about now?” He was exhausted.

“You could have declined her in a more… human way.”

Larson watched as Cassie reached for more food. He sighed and spoke while putting his elbow up to rest on the table. “If I did that, then I’d be leading her on and I don’t have the slightest intention of doing that.”

“You wouldn’t be leading her on if you just said you’re not interested.”

“Yes I would. Humans always think there’s a chance for them to get one in just as long as you’re not taken.”

Cassie just shook her head, “speaking of which; not that I want that, but why aren’t I ‘worthy’ of your seed?” She then laughed at herself after saying that, Larson just stared at her. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I still want an answer.”

Larson sighed. “It’s pointless either way. So I told myself I’d never reproduce.” He simply stated.

“Why?”

“I just said why!” He grew agitated.

“Okay, maybe it’s pointless, but wouldn’t you want to see what a little you would look like?” She spoke happily at the idea.

“Yeah, my parents have baby pictures.”

“Boo, you’re no fun.”

Next Post

Not so fun fact: That friend of mine told me Cassie was annoying and I should change it, someone else did as well and it made me sad (though I never told them that) but then I thought about other characters like this and realized they only thought she was annoying because she was a girl. Prime evidence: Spongebob from season 1-4 was "annoying" but we liked him for that. Also, they didn't find Larson in need for a change despite my intent to make him unbearably mean sooooo idk I think their bias was showing.

Fun fact: Larson gets some scars on his face at the end of the 1st book, so if I ever draw more, he's suppose to have scars, but I forgor sometimes.

#creative writing #writing #writing community #writing side of tumblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writeblur #fantasy novel #novel writing #novel #fiction #author #indie author #original character #my ocs #my ocs art #oc artwork #original characters #male protagonist #sci fi #sci fi fantasy #scifi fantasy #sci fi and fantasy #Larson

[all-too-ric3]

hi! can you write 22 and 25 with daniel richard please 🥺

Delayed lovers. 

Warnings: Curse words, pure fluff, delays (‘cause that’s a TOC of mine and I consider it a warning)

Summary: Working with Daniel was incredibly fun until an interviewer starts messing with your schedule, but fixes your love live, which makes it not that bad. 

Word count: 1.205

Prompts: 22. “Can you say that again?” “Were you not listening?” “No I was, I just like hearing your voice.” - 25. “You know, I think my parents would be proud if I brought you home.”

Don’t forget to share, like and leave feedback. I do not authorise my writing being published on any other platform.

“What do you mean you have to do the interview later? We have a busy schedule today, stop playing with us!”. Being Daniel’s PA and media manager  wasn’t easy at all, too many calls, too many paps, too much gossiping. Just like that time the internet spread the news of Daniel’s wild parties and him trashing the whole hotel floor, I mean, he can be chaotic, I cannot deny, but trashing the whole floor? Completely not true, only his and Lando’s room, but we already dealt with it or all of those rumours of him retiring, completely not true and it created an incredibly huge chaos in his fan base.

“The interviewer is running late, she cann-” the man started saying. “Running late? Do you think that’s a valid excuse for you to come up with?” I said angrily. Daniel is already getting ready for the interview and now this man’s telling me we have to postpone the interview, the nerve! 

“I’ll see what I can do” he said, a bit scared of my small outburst. “Please, I know it’s not your fault, but put yourself in my position” I said with calm trying to get him to understand we don't have more time. “I know, I apologise, give me a couple minutes”

As he walked away I went to check on Daniel, as i open the door I see him , his back to the door, completely bare, and that’s surely one of the perks of working with Daniel, easy to the eye, among others of course, and definitely not the continuous flirting between us, definitely not that one. 

Because to be honest, I don’t like thinking about it, I just… go with the flow I guess, I go with the flow when he kisses me, or when we cuddle, or when we’re too drunk to dance like decent human beings, but it isn't serious at all, just playful flirting, right? My feelings for him are just camaraderie, butterflies? Nah, just an old slice of pizza I found in my fridge that made my tummy turn, right?... Right?

“Can I come in?” I said, peeking my head through the door. “I know I’m taking too long to get ready but, which shirt? Funky flowers or unicorn vomit?” He said, showing me two colourful shirts, totally his style. “About that… there’s no hurry, interviewer is running late”

I walked to the small couch and moved the mountain of clothing he had on it. “So should I stay shirtless? My whole tits out for you to see?” He said standing in front of me. “There’s nothing to see to be honest, you’re too lanky to consider that as tits” I said trying to push him away but failing completely as he threw himself over me and squeezed my head with his chest.

As the laughter stopped and we regained our breath a bit he laid on top of me, “Get off of me!” I screamed while pushing him away but he was stronger and pulled me with him, now I’m laying on his bare chest, listening closely to his heartbeat. “This delay with the interviewer stressed the shit out of me!...” I started rambling about our schedule and the meeting I have to go to with possible new sponsors. “Do you actually like those shoes? Be honest please, because if you do, I’ll work extra hard to get the deal with them, but if you think it’s not worth it, I’ll be happy with whatever result we get” I waited a couple seconds for his answer but didn’t get one, i looked up at him and found him already looking at me. “Can you say that again, babygirl?” he said and smirked when he saw me blushing at his new pet name, “Were you not listening, Dan?” I said with fake anger. “No, I was, I just like hearing your voice”

My head was now buried between his shoulder and neck, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and my tummy turning and I’m starting to think it isn't because of an old slice of pizza and more because of those so called butterflies. “Dan, please”

“You know, I think my parents would be proud if I brought you home” he said and i couldn’t hide for any longer, my eyes now staring at his. “Don’t say that kind of thing!” I said and caress his cheek, he closed his eyes at my touch and continued, “I mean it, they always told me I need to find a responsible woman, that can stand up for herself, that loves me even when I’m being a pain in the ass” we laughed at that part and he turned his head a bit to kiss my palm, “Besides, you’re gorgeous Y/N, I know you don’t understand it, you think so little of yourself sometimes, you doubt about your abilities and your knowledge, you go around joking about your height but that hurts you, sometimes you can be your own enemy” He said grabbing my face between both hands, “If only you can see yourself as I see you, you’d fall in love as hard as I did”. WHAT DID HE SAID? 

I sat up quickly and froze for a couple seconds, do I love him too? I mean, when I’m with him, there’s nowhere I’d rather be, and when we’re away, I cannot stop thinking about him. Is that love? It surely feels like it sometimes, like when we kiss, or when we joke around, or when we just lay down in silence. Yup, that's how my mom told me love felt like.

“Dan, at this point, I don’t even see this as a job, working with you is incredible and it feels so natural, but I cannot deny my heart is aching for more” He sat up too and looked straight into my eyes. “Let me give it to you, I’d give up everything I have achieved for you to give me a chance”, I closed the gap between us and said “I’ll never ask you for something like that, nothing makes me happier than seeing you achieve your dreams”, he gave me a small peck of the nose, “Be mine? be mine and you won’t regret it, be mine and I promise I’ll love you until my dying day” I nodded and our noses touched “I’ll be yours in this life and the next one” and I closed the gap between us, our lips collided in a kiss I’ve never experienced, his hand pulling me by the waist and my hands tangled in his hair.

 “The interviewer has arr… sorry” the media coordinator burst through the door and left as quickly as he came in. “I’ve never been more grateful with a delayed interview” he said and I hummed and nodded, going back into our kiss. We already waited for them for a while, then can wait for us a bit.

#daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo #dr3 x reader #dr3 #mclaren f1 #f1 one shot #f1 fluff