#although I was watching red dwarf the entire time too

[bicycle4two]

fine as we are, but we want more || Jason Todd x Female!Reader || Chapter 5 of 8

Summary:

all things considered, you're pretty lucky.

in all your years living in gotham city, you've never been mugged, never had your apartment broken into, never been held as a hostage.

until now.

it seems your luck has run out and there's nothing you can do about it other than wait for someone to come rescue you. . .

or, jason and you reunite after a long time.

...

Read on AO3

...

Chapter 4

...

Chapter 5:

You didn’t expect Jason’s hobbies to be so wholesome. You hate to admit it, but you sort of always pictured him working on his motorcycle or doing some sort of extreme sport in his spare time. And maybe he does, but he also bakes snickerdoodle cookies for Barbara and knits scarves for shelters. You quickly find that being friends with Jason Todd means you can’t just take him at face value, that there’s more to him than a strong set of muscles and a dangerous night job. He’s more than the Red Hood.

And although you love being friends with Red Hood, love hearing about his new gear, the types of guns he’s collected over the years, the new bullets he’s acquired that somehow have elemental effects (whatever that means), the little tidbits of whatever mission he feels he can talk to you about, you love being friends with Jason Todd a little more.

Because Jason Todd visits you at Becker’s Best in the morning, because Jason Todd sends you pictures of the new cat that’s found its way into the “office,” because Jason Todd can cook when it’s too late to order food because the two of you were so absorbed in what you were watching that you’ve forgotten to eat.

(You remember scrolling through your phone, looking for restaurants that were still open, when Jason suggested that he could make something if you wanted. And who were you to say no? So, after a quick scan of what you had in your pantry and refrigerator, Jason settled on making what he liked to call his famous instant noodles.

You never thought to add cheese and jalapenos to your noodles before but now it’s a flavor combination that you can’t live without.)

You honestly never expected Jason to let you into his life the way he has, to share his interests with you, to spend his free time teaching you how to knit (you’ve only ever made oddly shaped squares despite his meticulous guidance. He assures you everyone starts out that way. Even Tim’s having some trouble) and how to crack eggs with one hand (“You don’t really have to do it that way. Just use both your hands,” he’d said when you fished out the shells from your fifth attempt. There was a lot of scrambled eggs that afternoon.) He’s even emailed you a reading list filled with his favorite books, both standalone and series. You found yourself ordering a few of them online once you got your paycheck, excited to discuss them with him once you’ve read through them.

You don’t expect Jason to weave you into his life, to fit you in wherever he can, in between saving Gotham, in between research, in between servings tables, but here you are in one of the library’s function rooms with your hair tied away from your face and Jason’s extra Wonder Woman apron wrapped around your waist. Today’s hobby exploration is pottery.

“I have to say,” you start, easing yourself onto your stool, grinning at Jason as he does the same, dwarfing his seat. “I did not expect this.”

“It’s new,” he says with a shrug, already bringing out his materials, setting aside the tools in an orderly line on the table beside him and then unwrapping his clay. “Babs brought home a brochure from the library, and I figured why not?”

“You do know I’ll be humming Unchained Melody the entire time, right?” You follow his lead, only throwing your slab of clay onto the wheel as opposed to just simply putting it on. It lands off center, so you pick it up and do it properly. Which is, disappointing.

“You wouldn’t be the first one.”

“Probably won’t be the last either.”

The instructor comes in and tells the class that you’ll be making bowls today. She shows some examples, bowls of different heights, widths, and depths, even some wonky looking ones with “character.” You think that you probably won’t make anything that can properly hold food, so you settle to make something small, something that can maybe hold your paper clips and those cute erasers you keep buying but never use. After a few safety reminders, the instructor wishes everyone luck, advises patience, and says that she’s always available for questions and assistance.

Oh. And to have fun. Of course.

Your classmates begin the activity almost immediately, even Jason is already wetting his clay, wheel spinning as he envelopes the lump in his hands, putting pressure on each side to make the lump slimmer and taller. He wipes excess clay on the rim of his water bucket before getting back to work, pushing his clay downwards with the palm of his left hand.

“You gonna get started, angel?” He asks, attention still on his work, molding the clay like it’s nothing. “Or are you just gonna ogle at me? I get it. I’m irresistible.”

You blink, a little dazed, before letting out a huff, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Ugh. You wish, Todd.”

Jason lets out a soft laugh, a sort of raspy sound, and you force yourself to not look at him, to look at your dry lump of clay. You wet both your hands and the clay before spinning the wheel, slowly at first, trying to get the feel of the peddle, before picking up the speed and repeating what Jason did to his project.

You press the clay together, watching it grow tall before it flies off the center of your wheel.

“Ah!” You yelp, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to you. And the instructor. Who was coincidentally behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” the instructor says kindly, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Was I going too fast?”

The instructor looks at the lump. “You’ve probably made it a bit too tall. No worries. It’s fixable.”

So, you slap the clay back in the center, ignore Jason’s gaze, and repeat your steps. Molding the clay, trying to find peace and serenity in the activity. Because Jason said pottery is good for stress, but you feel like you’ve never been more stressed before.

(Okay. That’s a lie. You were a hostage to a bunch of Freaks just the other month, but that’s different.)

You spend about thirty minutes in silence, brows furrowed, bottom lip between your teeth in concentration, your clay is finally listening to you, stretching and shrinking with the guidance of your hands. You think that maybe you’ve gotten the hang of it, and you take a break, your ankle hurting from the peddle, looking over to see that Jason’s clay already looks like a bowl. It’s impressive really, how quickly he’s able to make one while yours is still shapeless. You watch him use one of his tools on the inside rim of his bowl, opening it further.

“That looks like a ramen bowl,” you tell him once his wheel stops spinning. He wipes excess clay off his hands once more before turning his attention to you. To your project.

“Angel,” he says, mouth quirking. “What is that?”

“Clay,” you say lamely. “It’s clay, Jason.”

“Do you need help?”

“Please.” Because although you can always ask the instructor, you’ve seen her flit from one student to the next, guiding different molds of clay, helping create different kinds of bowls, and you don’t want to keep her from someone whose project actually has potential. That, and you’re the only one in the room who still has a lump, and you’re sort of embarrassed.

“C’mon. It’s easy,” Jason says, already by your side. “Start the wheel up again.”

And you do, you press on the peddle, gaining momentum and mold the clay the same way you’ve been doing the past how many minutes.

“Good, that’s good,” Jason says and you bite your lip once more to keep yourself grounded because he’s so close to you now, practically cheek to cheek as he moves in to help. And. You don’t know what you’re feeling but whatever it is, it’s not appropriate for pottery class. “Now dip your thumb in the center. Yeah, just like that.”

And you follow his instructions, trying to pace yourself because you don’t want your clay to go flying again. So, you apply pressure with your left thumb, using your right hand to help guide your thumb outwards, pressing against the clay so that the hole you created gets bigger.

“Careful,” Jason says, voice soft. “You don’t want it to be too wide.”

“Got it,” you breathe out.

“Now let’s make it a bit taller. Wet the clay.”

You do as he says. He tells you to pinch the base and slowly move your hand up the wall of your bowl to make it taller. It’s starting to look like a wide Japanese teacup. And you think that maybe you can stop here, quit while you’re ahead.

But there’s a little devil over your shoulder telling you that if you stop now, then Jason’s going to go back to his seat. And do you really want that?

“What’s next?”

He hands you the same tool he was using to widen the rim of his bowl and you try your best to mimic what he did. But you get excited, you do a bit too much. And your bowl is starting to look a little like a plate.

“Jason,” you all but whine. “It, it does not want to bowl!”

“Easy there, angel. There’s still hope.” He looks at it for a second, studying it. You wonder what goes on through his mind, what he sees in your bowl-plate. Because it’s starting to look like you should maybe start from scratch, turn it into a lump again. Or start over with a new one. “Here—let’s just do this.”

And he guides your hand back to the clay, tells you to spin the wheel, and to your surprise he doesn’t let go. Instead, his hands lightly cover yours, using you to mold the clay to his liking.

“Oh my God,” you say. “Jason. We’re Ghost.”

“What?” He’s a bit distracted, guiding you to mold the bowl upwards, to make it less plate like.

“Ghost. We’re having a Ghost moment.” You don’t care about your project right now. Because this is a once in lifetime moment. So, you turn your head slightly, lips angled to his ear, and you softly sing, “Oh, my love, my darling…”

And Jason jerks so suddenly that your bowl goes flying. It soars through the sky before making an impressive splat on the ground. The class bursts out in laughter, but you can’t bring yourself to care, to be embarrassed, because you’re too busy looking at Jason, watching how red creeps up his neck and paints his cheeks and ears. And you’re pretty sure you look exactly the same. Because everything is catching up to you, your mind going haywire.

And you have to wonder if he’s feeling the same things as you. If his heart is beating against his chest so hard, so violently, like it wants to burst out. Because yours is trying to break through your ribs and fly over to Jason in hopes that he catches it.

…

It’s something that he’s used to doing. Patching someone up. With a job like his, it’s not easy to go to the hospital, to explain why you’re all banged up, with broken bones and burns on your skin. More so if you can’t manage to get out of uniform, too tired, too much in pain to peel off all the layers. It’s why all of them know first aid, it’s why Alfred can perform surgery. It’s just easier that way. Convenient.

Jason’s pretty good at dressing wounds and setting bones straight. He’s had to do it to himself a couple of times, too, and he likes to think he’s healed up pretty nicely, his scars could honestly look a whole lot worse.

He just never expected to have to do the same for her. Never in his life did he want to be in this situation, disinfecting her wounds and wrapping her hand. And that makes him nervous. Because he doesn’t want to screw up, doesn’t want to cause her any more pain than what she’s already in.

Because she’s pretty banged up. There’s a cut on her lip and one of the first things Jason tended to was the wound on her cheek. They had to squeeze into his small bathroom as he helped her wash, disinfect, and bandage the soft skin. He didn’t have any make up remover, so she still has mascara darkening the skin under her eyes. Her hair’s a mess, frizzed and knotted from being pulled, from being wrapped around someone’s fist, and her clothes are dirty, the knees of her jeans ripped.

When Jason first saw her, he wanted to go back to the people who did this, do something so much worse than what they did to her, but the logical part of him hit before he left, reminding him that although she isn’t broken, she’s battered and bruised and needs help being put back together.

So, he places the bandage at the inside of her wrist, just below her thumb, and begins wrapping it around her wrist, once, twice, before going diagonally, towards her pinky finger, then straight across the other fingers, and finally going back down the back of her hand. He repeats the process a few more times, wrapping the bandage in a sort of figure of eight motion. And she’s a trooper, really, not complaining one bit even though he knows it must hurt no matter how careful he’s being.

“You know,” he begins, clearing his throat. “When I taught you how to throw a punch, I didn’t think you’d actually to do it.”

“If you don’t want me to defend myself, then don’t teach me self-defense,” she says, pouting.

“I just hate that you had to do it all.”

“It could have been worse. If you didn’t teach me at all, it could have been so much worse.”

It’s supposed to be comforting. She’s saying thank you, she’s saying that because he taught her this, he protected her. But Jason still hates it. Wishes that he was there to show that mobster who the hell he thinks he’s fighting. He tries to find solace in the fact that Batgirl swooped in when she did, stopping things from escalating further, from getting to the point where he couldn’t fix her on his own.

“I’m pretty shit at keeping promises, huh?” He does one final round around her wrist before securing the bandage.

"Jason, no, honey, don’t say that.” She tries to touch him, to bring her hand up to cradle his face but then she winces, remembering why she can’t, the injury forgotten in the wake of reassuring him. “It was just some bad luck.”

“You didn’t use to have bad luck.”

And for some reason, she smiles. She smiles at this, this unfortunate turn of events, and Jason can’t figure out why.

“You remember,” she says, and now, now Jason understands. It’s something from their shared past. The fact that she never used to find herself in these types of situations. “It’s fine, Jason. No one walks alone at night without knowing the risks.”

“I still hate it.” He pinches the tip of her finger to check for circulation, to make sure he didn’t wrap her hand too tight. When the color comes back, he pinches it again.

“Same, but it’s done and, really, it could have been worse. My bag wasn’t stolen. I’m still alive. And I’m pretty sure I gave that jerk a black eye before Batgirl broke his face.”

There’s an excited look on her face now, a sparkle in her eyes.

“It was amazing, Jason! This guy thought he can just rough me up, take my things, and then POW I gave him the good one-two, y’know? He didn’t even see it coming! He lost his balance. He fell! And he was pissed, he’s so pissed that I did that to him that he didn’t even notice Batgirl gliding in before BAM she flips him over her shoulder and kicks him in the face!”

And Jason is smiling now, too, loving that although this bad thing happened, she’s not letting it ruin her night. She finds something about it that’s good and maybe he should be concerned that she does, that she’s getting excited over Batgirl kicking some mobster’s ass, but hell, he feels the hype, can imagine the takedown. And he makes a mental note to thank Barbara again for being there.

“You think you can teach me that, too?” She asks once she’s calmed down. She’s breathing heavily and Jason hands her the bottle of water he told her to drink ages ago but has remained untouched.

“I’d prefer it if you ran away from trouble, but sure. You’re gonna have to work up to it though—lift some weights if you’re thinking of throwing down grown men.”

“Ugh. Heavy lifting. Let’s put this on the maybe pile of weekend activities. So, how has your night been?”

Jason wonders if he should talk about it. If he should mention the progress they’ve made on Batman’s last case, or maybe explain to her how and why the temperature dropped so drastically last week. And maybe warn her against accepting anything from a Dr. Q, because you can’t trust Harley, not really. But he thinks that maybe telling her all this will scare her, make her realize how much worse tonight could have gone if she went face to face with someone stronger.

And he doesn’t want to make this night worse when it already looks like it’s getting better.

But he doesn’t want to lie, either. Because this is different than his usual relationships outside the Belfry, outside those he’s made as a vigilante. She knows him, both inside and outside the helmet, so he doesn’t need to talk in code, doesn’t need to make up some obscure job, or excuse. And sure, he’s had relationships like that before, too, but this is different somehow.

She’s different. And he’ll probably never say it out loud, but something about her just makes him want to bare it all, to let her see all the ugliness in him, to see if she’ll still want to be with him after, to see if she’ll still call him friend, if maybe, just maybe, they could be more than just that, but at the same time, he wants to shield her away from it all, to keep her at a distance so she’ll never know, so that she’ll keep looking at him the way she does. Because he doesn’t want to risk it, to risk her leaving.

“It’s been… alright,” he begins and decides that she can tell him herself how much she wants to know. “You want the shorthand or the blow by blow?”

“Really?” And she surprised, confused. “You’ll really tell me everything?”

“Well, maybe not everything,” Jason backtracks. She knows who he is, but can he really believe that she hasn’t figured out the rest? He thinks that maybe once you know one secret identity, you know them all, but people can surprise you with how easily they can connect the dots, or how dense they can be. “Somethings I think it’s safer if you don’t know.”

“Oh, yeah. I can see that. You can’t torture out information I don’t have.”

“No one’s going to torture you, angel.”

“Of course not, because you’ll stop them.”

And she looks at him in a way that makes him feel ten feet tall. Full of trust. Full of something that he thinks can somehow, someway, someday turn into love. But not yet. They’re not there yet, but he can feel it, deep down, that they can get there, one day. If they just keep nurturing this thing between them, allow it to grow.

And when it does, when they allow it to blossom, then she’ll know, she’ll know that he’ll do more, that he’s capable of doing more than just simply stopping someone from hurting her.

Because he’s made a promise and if anyone dares to touch her again, to hurt her, to do worse than what she’s experienced so far, he’ll become something worse than the monsters in the night.

...

Chapter 6

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[lacefuneral]

red dwarf really is insane though for ppl who don't know about it. this show has been airing for 35 years. it's a british space opera sitcom about two men (later joined by a humanoid descendant of a cat and an android; also the ship's computer is a character) who are trapped on a mining space ship in deep space. there was an accident with radiation that killed EVERYONE on the ship except for a janitor who was in stasis. and the ship can keep ONE hologram "alive" at a time, which is created from a digital backup of the ship's former crew.

because only the janitor survived, the ship's computer makes the hologram his dead boss (also a janitor, but of a slightly higher rank) to run the ship. also it took THREE MILLION YEARS for the radiation to be at a safe level in the ship. so presumably the earth is gone and humans are extinct. that is also why there is a Cat Man. enough time has passed for extreme evolution to take place.

eventually the hologram is given the ability of "hard light" (so he can touch people and interact with the environment instead of phasing through walls and furniture). and i forget how this is precisely achieved, but there's a body swap episode.

the janitor who survived has homoerotic dreams about his boss and openly has a crush on an alternate universe version of his boss. the two of them viciously banter like a married couple. the boss is extremely repressed and talks about his strict upbringing. and while not canonical or explicit, there's a subtext that he's gay and is simply too repressed/traumatized to act on it, so he overcompensates with this by insisting he's attracted to women.

in the way kirk in star trek splits into good and evil halves, the characters of red dwarf have good, neutral, and evil halves. the evil halves are homophobic caricatures - but do clearly communicate latent homosexual desire.

i'm going to remind you, again, this show has been running for 35 years and the hologram can touch. these men are stuck with one another in deep space. the last two humans (er. human and human hologram) that are constantly fighting because of pent up frustration. have these two men kissed yet? fucked? nope! although lister's homoerotic dream of the two of them kissing was played for laughs because the writers have him wake up disgusted.

it's such a fascinating case of queerbait. how many shows have you watched where the leads passionately make out with one another but they're NOT canon. and the reason this happened (as well as the "low" (evil) versions of the characters) is because the 80's/90's writers thought Gay People = Gross = Funny

i mean all of that aside the show is extremely delightful (when it's aged well. and some parts have NOT aged well. like the entire prison season, which i choose to ignore the existence of)

anyway thats red dwarf and you can pirate it with a quick google but i use soap2day.to (thats the url; use an adblocker)

[introvert--weeb]

Hello! I hope ur doing okay don’t forget to drink water it’s important!!! Ohom can l request reader wearing their s/o’s jacket and acting like them in the mirror like “l’m the _____ do you wanna die?!” Smth like that and her s/o is watching them while this is happening if it’s okay can you add smiley, izana (you can add his earings too it’ll be cute!) and baji you can add others if you want or can ignore this ily!

This is adorable!! Of course I will! 💕 And thank you, you make sure you keep hydrated as well ❤️

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

--

Smiley, Izana, Baji with reader impersonating them

TW: mentions of playful threats, teasing, terrible impersonations, manga spoilers (Izana), author writes these while extremely tired, may have not been proofread entirely but author will look over at some point 😅

---

Nahoya 'Smiley'

It had all started out as the two of you were casually hanging out in his room, exchanging the odd affection here and there. Nahoya had asked you to come over so you, him and Souya could watch a new movie that he had bought earlier that week. However, this would require snacks, something you had to remind your boyfriend. And so, the twins had left you alone in Smiley's room to head to the shop and buy the required supplies. Not without your boyfriend teasing you over how you pouted at him due to his teasing over your sweet tooth.

Bored, you let your eyes wander around the room in search of something to keep you entertained. After all, being left alone is boring as hell. So when your eyes caught sight of Nahoya's Toman jacket, you felt a bubble of excitement rise in your chest. Before you could even think the plan through fully, you pulled the sleeves over your arms and fastened it. Nahoya's usual cologne filled your nose as the fabric hung loosely off your frame.

Making your way towards the full length mirror that resided in Nahoya's bedroom, you grinned at how good you looked. Maybe you should steal his jackets more often because you looked amazing! You could probably convince him to let you have a hoodie or two since you understood you couldn't take his Toman jacket. Maybe commissioning Mitsuya to make you one was a viable option? That thought was tucked away for now.

While admiring yourself in the reflection, an idea popped into your mind. Why not pretend to be Nahoya? After all, it was only you in the home and it was an entertaining idea. So this is how it all started.

Your lips pulled until you had the grin your boyfriend was known for as your mind reeled through all the phrases you knew he would say. It was entertaining trying to get his voice right (you never could) and you couldn't help thinking that it was a good impersonation of your beloved.

Nahoya was about to enter his room when he noticed what you were doing. He had arrived at the door as you had gotten to the 'I'll kill you' line that Smiley was known for, his hand slapping over his mouth to stop the laughter that threatened to expose his position. Wanting to enjoy the show more, the boy made himself comfortable leaning against the door frame as his face displayed just how amused he was. After all, who wouldn't be entertained by their partner trying their best to be like them?

You eventually caught sight of your boyfriend in the mirror's reflection, your cheeks flushing a deep red from the embarrassment. Greeting your boyfriend with an awkward wave, you watched as he came closer and flushed an even deeper red at the laughter that he let loose.

Smiley couldn't stop his laugh now. Not when you looked so cute in his jacket and the memory of you impersonating him still fresh in his mind. Once he was close enough, he brought you into his arms to place a soft kiss on your forehead with his smile never leaving his face.

"Ya really think I talk like that, huh?" Smiley would laugh more before deciding to give you some pointers. The movie would be forgotten about (much to Souya's confusion) as Nahoya and yourself would continue with the impersonation, your boyfriend laughing while you entertained him.

Izana

Izana had invited you around so you could both hang out. Really, you just think he wanted to be held because that's all the two of you had been doing since you had entered his room. However, you did notice that Izana was without his earrings, him explaining how they got uncomfortable when he was lazing around. Understandable.

Your boyfriend was close to falling asleep, the feeling of your fingers running through his hair soothing him. It was rare for him to get time to just relax, especially with the plans of the upcoming brawl with Tokyo Manji. He had already spent hours with his Heavenly Kings simply planning an attack strategy. For now, all he wanted was to think about how good you were for him and nap.

Just as his eyes had shut, sleep trying to take ahold of his body, his phone rang. Due to how quiet it was in his room, the ringtone caused you to jolt from the sudden noise. If it hadn't just ruined a perfect moment between the two of you, Izana would have teased you over your reaction. However, all he could think of was killing whoever dared call him and maybe hunt down their families too just to make a point. It was only as it was Kakucho that the boy answered, taking the call out of his room for more privacy.

It all happened too quickly for you to process it. One moment Izana's head was on your lap, the next he was out of the room on the phone to someone. However, you did understand that Izana was the leader of Tenjiku and had been spending a lot of his time with them. Maybe it was something to do with that.

However, you were getting bored. So bored in fact that your phone just wasn't going to cut it. Your eyes aimlessly wandered around the room until they landed on something that could entertain you. A full-length mirror, a pair of long earrings, and Izana's Tenjiku jacket. Yes, they could entertain you.

Thank God your ears were already pierced. Putting on the long red jacket and the earrings, you couldn't help but laugh a little at how you looked. The Tenjiku jacket was big on you (Izana was taller) and it made you look like a child trying on their parent's clothes.

Standing in front of the mirror and admiring your reflection, a silly idea popped into your mind. Why not try your hand at impressions? And you had the props for a perfect Izana. Without thinking about what you would do when your boyfriend came back, you started to impersonate the Tenjiku King.

You had gotten the head tilt and smile almost perfect. Now all that was left was the voice, which you were struggling with. However, it was more entertaining with how different it sounded. Just needed more lines to practice the voice with. So that's when your mind started coming up with things that Izana would never say but you wanted him to.

It was as you were midway through the "I'm the great Izana! Bow down to me, peasants" line when said male entered back into the room. Amusement at your actions danced in his eyes when he realised you still hadn't noticed his presence. Who was he to ruin the show after all. So he leaned against the wall, a soft smile on his features as he admired how his jacket and earrings looked on you.

Moments passed before you noticed the handsome sight of your boyfriend in the mirror's surface. Embarrassment filled your body but you simply smiled over at Izana, commenting that you couldn't resist the chance. Izana would just softly laugh before saying that you did look good in his things

Baji

It had become a routine in your relationship. You would come over to the Baji residence on a Saturday and the two of you would spend the day either playing videogames or reading manga together. If it was a particularly good day, the two of you might even go on his beloved bike and visit a cat café or simply drive. Saturday was quick to become one of your favourite days in the entire week.

This particular Saturday, the weather wasn't ideal for a bike ride and so this left both you and Keisuke with your usual options. You had found yourself relaxing in your boyfriend's arms as your latest manga read was in your hands. Keisuke was busy trying his hardest to read a textbook as a test was coming up in the week. It would be a lie to say that you weren't impressed with Keisuke studying to make his dear mother proud. Hell, you would study just to make the sweet Mother Baji proud!

Just as you had finished the volume of your manga and was about to help your boyfriend in studying, the sound of his ringtone echoed around the quiet room. Keisuke was quick to check who it was, a little happy that someone had interrupted his studying. After all, none of it was making much sense to him. It was as the name 'Chifuyu' flashed onto his screen that he decided he needed to take it. It could be some Toman business that he possibly forgot about and would need to know. And so, he apologised for cutting the cuddling short before leaving his room to answer the call.

Now what were you meant to do? You had finished the manga and hadn't brought any others. So, you were stuck. Feeling bored, your gaze travelled around the room until they landed on the Toman jacket and sash. That was when the idea came to your mind.

In no time, you were off the bed and already in the process of pulling the jacket on your smaller frame. The jacket itself dwarfed you under its size, falling to your mid-thigh. Of course it would though, Keisuke was taller than you and bigger due to his build. But it was cute how it fell and the scent of your boyfriend's usual cologne had seeped into the material, making it feel as though Keisuke was wrapping you into his arms. Although you could just be happy like this, you had a plan and so the sash was clumsily tied how it would be on Baji.

You walked over to the mirror, having to prevent yourself from laughing over the appearance. It was as if a child had borrowed their dad's favourite jacket when playing dress up. However, there was still the plan. So, feeling childish and thinking this was the best idea ever, you began trying to impersonate your beloved. Copying his speech pattern and actions, you actually thought your impersonation was pretty accurate.

Baji had finished up the call, thankful that Chifuyu had called him up to remind him that there was a Toman meeting tonight at Musashi Shrine. Mikey would kill him if he missed another one. As he neared his bedroom door though, he was surprised to hear you talking. Maybe you had gotten a call too? Keisuke opened his door only to find the funniest sight ever. You were in front of his full-length mirror, a beautiful smile on your face as the line 'I am the great Keisuke Baji, do you wanna die?' flowed out of your mouth. Your voice was purposefully deeper but did not sound like him.

He couldn't hold back his amusement or laughter and approached where you were standing. Although he loved the impressions you were doing, he couldn't help but give you pointers while sorting the sash that was skewed on your figure. You on the other hand, had a blush that covered your cheeks, ears and neck. Your boyfriend had just caught you trying to act like him and wearing his sacred gang uniform. However, Keisuke would make you practice some of the impressions, all while grinning at how cute you were.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #anime drabble #nahoya x reader #tokyo revengers nahoya #nahoya kawata #smiley x reader #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #tokyo revengers izana #keisuke baji x reader #baji keisuke #baji tokyo revengers #requested #laura writes for tokyo revengers

[bestiesenpai]

Inamorata - Sukuna

You have no idea how much I like this idea lol ya know the meme ‘i got a boyfriend, yeah he kills people he’s crazy’ this is exactly what went through my head with this. Femme reader, I went for a...Sukuna is his own person and not attached to Itadori kind of thing? Like just a stand-alone demon. I had probably way too much fun writing this and would be down to write more for this concept

Content warnings: killing/murder/homicide choose your preferred noun, a little yandere?, size difference and Sukuna is in his four armed form, uhmm there’s a knife(main use to cut open readers palm in the beginning) and also licking blood from said wound, violence/gore at the end

Apparently there was a demon on the loose. From what you’d read on online forums and heard through the whispers of older people on the train, there was a foreboding presence terrorizing the city, preying on the weak and helpless and hoping to take over the world.

There were blurry photos and horrible sketches of what the creature supposedly looked like and the form it took, but none of them seemed to match up. The tattoos on the face and body were always off, the amount of muscle and the stature of the creature were all different depending on who you went to.

Which is why you decided, against all better judgement, to go looking for him. All the stories you’d heard about the demon, the kind of creature it was centuries ago in its prime, had intrigued you. With the mystique and terror surrounding this demon, you’d be a fool not to try and get a peek for yourself.

At first you’d tried a summoning circle, clearing a large space in your bedroom and drawing intricate patterns on the floor in hopes of his arrival. That method quickly turned futile as no demon ever came - but now you probably had a few ghosts watching you sleep at night.

The second method was to try and make a pact with the devil himself, slicing open your palm and dripping blood onto the pages of old scriptures. Attempting to sell your soul had worked even less than the first method and all you had to show for it was a bandage around your hand for two weeks.

“I’ll definitely see him now.” You mumbled to yourself, walking straight to where the demon was seen most: the red light district. Walking past bright neon signs and nearly naked women in shop windows, you took a peek into every alleyway you came across.

“Hey pretty lady, what’re you looking for?” A rough, scratchy voice sounded behind you as you walked past the umpteenth alleyway of the night.

“What do you think?” Not looking over your shoulder, you kept walking. The voice, while sounding absolutely disgusting, didn’t belong to a demon and therefore not worth your time.

“I think you’re looking for trouble.” Curling his fingers around your arm, the man you were trying to ignore snatched you back, making you stumble and fall into his chest. The nasty scent of body odor and cigarettes was wafting off the man, making you worry that his stench would cling to you for days.

“Not the kind you’re talking about.” Pushing away from him, you furiously wiped off your clothes. Looking this man in the face irritated you, he was wasting his time and you knew exactly what his intentions were.

“Don’t play so hard to get!” Forcing a less than charming smile on his face, the man made the move to grab you again.

“Don’t touch me!” Slapping his hands away, you took generous steps back from him. “You’re getting in the way of my search.”

“Search?” Quirking a brow at you, the man took a moment to think before his brows rose in surprise. “You’re looking for Sukuna, aren’t you?”

“That’s his name?” You’d never heard his name before, only seeing some people refer to him as a four armed creature from hell.

“Yup, and I’ve seen him a couple times.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the man smirked triumphantly. “You could say he and I have a kind of friendly relationship.”

“Do you now?” Your eyes trailed up from the man to the dark alleyway behind him where two glowing red eyes emerged.

“Oh yeah, Sukuna’s a great guy! Even offered to give me a position in his little army.” The more he spoke the brighter the eyes got and the fuzzy outline of a gigantic body was starting to take shape.

“His little army?” Slowly taking steps back as the figure came forward, you barely had time to react before the man was snatched up by two giant hands and yanked backwards. Lifting him into the air, it wasn’t long before a mouth with gleaming sharp teeth opened up and swallowed him whole.

As the eyes drew their attention back to you, a nervous laugh left your chest that you couldn’t force to stop. Every step you took back was now accompanied by a step forward from the creature until it fully left the alleyway and you saw exactly what you were dealing with.

Right in front of you, in full form and glory, was the demon you’d been searching for. The scrawling black tattoos along his entire body, the four arms, pink hair, second set of eyes and his impossibly muscular physique - all of it was exactly like you’d been hoping for.

“Hello, pretty little thing.” His voice boomed despite being relatively quiet, a slight echo to the deep timbre. It was almost melodic in a way, somehow soothing your racing heart just slightly.

“S-sukuna?” You squeaked out, back meeting the brick wall of a building.

“That would be me.” Chuckling as he stopped a few feet from you, Sukuna crossed his secondary arms and looked down upon you. The sheer height and width of his body easily dwarfed yours, your head only barely reaching his ribcage.

Your eyes couldn’t stay in one place as you looked at Sukuna. There was too much to take in and you could feel yourself quickly becoming overwhelmed trying to commit every detail to memory.

“You’re…” Licking your lips nervously, you could only meet his eyes for a moment before settling on the mark on his forehead. “You’re wearing womens clothes.” Tied around his waist and hanging off his legs was indeed a womens kimono, a surprising pristine white shade.

“That’s what you decide to say at our first meeting?” An echoing laugh bellowed from him and Sukuna shook his head, running one hand through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry it’s just...they never mentioned it online.” It felt a little silly to be explaining yourself to him when at any moment Sukuna could eat you like he did that man and you would have no way of stopping him.

“Little thing, I have a question for you.” Fixing you with a suddenly sharp stare, Sukuna lowered his brow and bent down, placing two arms above your head and two at your side, trapping you in against the wall with no possible outs.

“Yes?” Pinching your eyes closed, you held your breath as you waited for the inevitable bite of his teeth around.

“Are you scared?” Sukuna whispered, his breath fanning out over the top of your head.

“Yes.” It would be a lie to say no and you had nothing to lose by telling the truth. Sukuna’s eyes bore into you, the weight of his stare physically making your back bow.

“What did you think of me eating that man just now? Was that terrifying for you?”

“No.” Sukuna took a pause at your answer and although you couldn’t see it, his brow furrowed for a fraction of a second.

“What did you feel then? Surely you must have thought it was horrible.”

“N-not really.” Slowly cracking one eye open, you looked up at Sukuna, almost breaking your neck from having to stare directly above you. “I was actually quite happy you did that. He was getting on my nerves.”

The barking laugh that left Sukuna’s mouth made you flinch and throw your hands in the air. It was so loud it seemed to vibrate your entire body and a few windows on the building behind you shook from the force.

“You’re telling me you liked me killing that guy?” Grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, Sukuna held you up in the air, eye level to him. You nodded, pitifully kicking your legs out to try and get back to solid ground. “Aren’t you a messed up little thing?” Still laughing, Sukuna took a proper once over of your body. “Pretty, but messed up.”

“P-please let me go!” You whimpered, hands desperately clutching Sukuna’s to try and not fall out of your clothes and onto the ground.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like how I hold you?” Shaking you for good effect, Sukuna smirked wildly at your scared little squeaks. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s (Y/N)!” Shouting into the air, you felt relief flood into you as Sukuna finally lowered you back to the ground and his hands released you.

“(Y/N)?” Sounding it out on his tongue, Sukuna shrugged to himself. “I like ‘little thing’ better.”

“I’m only little compared to you.” Fixing your clothes, you tried to regain your breath and stop your body from shaking so violently.

“So, what’s a creature like you doing out so late at night here? It’s not safe for a human like you to roam around these parts.”

“I was looking for you.”

“Me? You were looking for me?” Sukuna snorted, waving his hand dismissively at you. “A human like you looking for me? I’ve really seen it all.”

“It’s true!” Pulling out your phone, you quickly showed him all the data you’d compiled on him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Sukuna! I did a summoning circle, I’ve looked in hundreds of online forums - I even tried to make a deal with the devil!” Showing him the mark that was still healing on your palm, the fear that was in your body was slowly trickling out and being replaced with- hope? Excitement? It was hard to say, but as Sukuna grasped your hand between two fingers and looked at your palm, it would be wrong to say it was a negative emotion you felt.

“You really did all that for me?” His voice was much softer now but it still sounded like he was mocking you. Smoothing the pad of one finger across your palm, he felt the ridges of your palm and the wound.

“I did. I find you really fascinating and I- I just wanted to learn more about you.” You faltered when he looked at you, a fierce heat overtaking your cheeks at admitting out loud that you’d been looking for a demon because you found him interesting.

“Are you perhaps interested in me?” A smirk tugged one side of Sukuna’s lip up and he chuckled when your expression only grew more flustered. “Oh little thing, you’re more messed up than I thought.”

“Will you tell me more about yourself? Please?” The words tumbled out of your mouth desperately as you let Sukuna stretch out your arm and grasp your hand more firmly. He didn’t answer you or even acknowledge that you’d spoken, instead grazing the tip of one long sharp nail along the line of the cut.

“I find myself liking you more and more, why is that?” Sukuna’s tone sounded like he was addressing himself as he spoke aloud, turning your hand every which way as he kept scraping his nail against your palm. “Were you my lover in the past, back when I reigned as the ruler of this whole land?”

Racking your brain to try and remember any information on Sukuna potentially having a lover, you were ripped back to reality when Sukuna dug his nail into your skin, reopening the cut and making blood flow freely.

“Ow!” You couldn’t yank your arm out of his grasp and you watched in mild horror as Sukuna lowered himself to your hand, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth and drag across your skin. His tongue quickly became coated in dark red blood, his saliva starting to mingle with your blood.

“You taste so familiar, you must have been mine.” Lapping up your blood now, Sukuna didn’t stop until he could tell you were starting to get weak from blood loss. The lower half of his face was now covered in red, smeared across his skin like paint.

“Sukuna, that’s gross.” The mumble slipped from your delirious mind, making him laugh as he waved a hand over the cut and made it go away. Slipping your hand from his grasp it was like there had never been a mark there in the first place.

“A human telling me what’s gross?” Licking his face clean, Sukuna grinned down at you. The longer he looked at you the longer memories of a past you returned to his mind. The irresistible draw he felt to come to you tonight had been the same one that called to him centuries ago, making you the center of his otherwise cruel and empty world.

Placing two hands on the wall behind you, Sukuna leaned over you once more, this time grasping your chin and turning your face up to him. The saliva that had mixed with your blood had also given you new memories of the past as well, and as you looked at Sukuna you remembered all the things the two of you had done together.

“So, my pet, what shall we do first?”

Sukuna ended up carrying you home, having you tucked inside his kimono as he leaped on rooftops across the city. Opening your bedroom window, Sukuna shoved his body through, having to make himself slightly smaller to fit inside the house.

“Are you uh, hungry?” Standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom as Sukuna sat on your bed, you weren’t quite sure what to do now.

“I could eat.” Laying fully back on your bed, it creaked and groaned as Sukuna rested his weight on it. The thought of offering to take him to the kitchen came and went quickly in your head; just getting him into your room was a hard enough task.

Fixing him and yourself a quick meal, as soon as you were done eating Sukuna picked you up and rested you on his abdomen. Even after shrinking himself down your legs were still stretched as wide as possible in hopes of wrapping around his waist.

“As the memories of you return, I realize how much I’ve missed you, my pretty little thing.” Petting down your back, Sukuna looked at you fondly. Propped up on two of his arms, he could stare directly at your tiny body sitting atop him.

“What kind of memories do you have?” So far, the only thing you could seem to recall were memories of a more sexual nature. One’s of you and Sukuna wrapped up in each other's arms, both of his cocks stuffed inside you as you begged to cum.

“I remember giving you the world, whatever you wanted was yours for the taking.” The look in Sukunas eyes was surprisingly soft and you could feel the love coming out from him.

“Whatever I wanted?” Repeating the words, your mouth hung open slightly at all the possible things you could get.

“The world may exist to serve me, but I exist to serve you.” Fully sitting up, Sukuna held you against him as he leaned down, lips grazing your forehead. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I can get you anything in the world, I can do anything in the world.”

“Kill for me.” The whisper that left your lips was almost too quiet for even yourself to hear. But Sukuna nodded, having heard you perfectly. Your words made his body thrum with excitement and his nerves were on edge.

“Kill for you?” He repeated, kissing you on the forehead. The fingers that held you closely dug into your sides and if Sukuna wasn’t careful he could crush you completely.

“You love me, don’t you?” There was just the slightest hint of worry in your voice. What if you were overestimating your power over Sukuna? He could say no or even kill you himself.

“You have no idea what the things my love for you will do.”

Although it pained him to do so, Sukuna left you once the sun began to rise. He had other things to attend to, temples that worshipped him as a god to visit. Promising to see you once dusk began to settle over the sky, Sukuna leapt from your window and into the horizon.

“You came back.” Even though he swore up and down he’d come back, it still shocked you to see him back on your bed once it hit a certain time of night.

“Of course I did.” Sukuna almost seemed hurt you would question him. Holding out a hand, as soon as you grasped one of his fingers he pulled you to him and nestled your body into his side. “Did you do what I asked?”

“The list is in my pocket.” Before leaving, Sukuna had told you to make a list of all the people you wanted him to kill for you. The list had started out short, just a few people that had hurt you that you couldn’t let go of, and then it grew to others, politicians and corrupt people in the media.

“Quite impressive, little thing.” Reading over the list, Sukuna stood up. “Shall we go then?”

“Go whe-” As Sukuna threw open your bedroom window you were met with a strong gust of wind. “Sukuna, where are we going?” You asked him over the wind in your ears. Putting his upper arms into the sleeves of his kimono, he made sure you were nestled safely inside.

“We’re going to take care of the first person on your list.” Wrapping an arm around you, Sukuna jumped out of the window. Though this wasn’t your first time in this position, you hadn’t been fully cognizant when Sukuna took you home last night. Now, with a head clear and no lack of blood to distract you, you could see the lights of the city clearly as they whipped past you.

“It’s beautiful.” Carefully leaning forward, you gazed at the downtown area with all the flashing lights and swerving cars.

“If you say so.” Patting your hip, Sukuna pulled you back, resting your weight fully on his arm and clothes. He wouldn’t admit it, and despite knowing he would catch you in a millisecond, Sukuna didn’t want you to fall out and fall to the ground.

Coming upon the first persons house, he settled you on the ground outside. You were in a tightly knit residential area standing directly under a streetlight, with rows of houses that all looked similar. In a flash, Sukuna had broken into the house and grabbed the person you were after.

“This them?” With a tight grip on their ankle, Sukuna shook them side to side.

“Mhmm.” You didn’t need to look to know he’d gotten the right person, just the feeling you had around them was enough to confirm it.

“W-what’s going on here?!” They screamed, blood pooling in their head the longer they hung upside down.

“Don’t speak.” Sukuna barked, shaking them once again. “You don’t speak to her, or at all.” The person screamed again, a high pitched sound that quickly got shut off as Sukuna swung their body and smacked them against the ground. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

For a moment you thought they’d died from how hard Sukuna hit them against the ground, but a small whimper and breathless gasps sounded from where their face was crushed against the pavement.

“Do you know why I’m here?” You whispered, standing over their motionless body. Rolling over onto their back, they shook their head and started to stammer. “If you can’t answer my question I don’t want you to make a sound.” Pressing your foot onto their throat, you flinched when their hands came up to try and claw you away.

“Don’t touch her.” Instantly pinning their arms down, Sukuna glowered. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Let me think.” Staring down into their glassy eyes, a million options went through your mind. Sukuna’s power was limitless, there was nothing he couldn’t do. If you asked him to throw their body into outer space, he would do it in a heartbeat. “Rip them limb from limb. You can eat them if you’d like.”

“As you wish.” A sick grin curled Sukuna’s lip and he drug their body across the ground until they were directly underneath him.

“(Y/N) wait! W-wait please!” Their shrill cries fell on deaf ears, and the sound of the first limb being torn off their body was something you could get used to. “Oh- oh my god, my leg!”

“God I wish you’d shut up.” You kept your eyes on the person's face, refusing to look at where blood squirted generously from their now missing extremity.

“Allow me.” With the swipe of one claw Sukuna gouged out their throat. Hot, bright red blood spilled out onto the pavement, pooling and almost making it to where you stood. Throwing one leg into his mouth, Sukuna used a non-bloody hand to lift you up and place you onto a brick wall.

“Thank you.” Giving him a gentle smile, you now had a front row seat to Sukuna ripping apart this person's body and slowly devouring them. There was a mess of blood coating Sukuna’s skin, far more blood than when he had drunk yours.

As you watched Sukuna eat this person, a sense of satisfaction washed over you. It felt good to get justice in your own way for how this person wronged you. After being told to let it go, try and move and let time heal the wound, you could finally get closure the way you wanted.

“All done?” You asked once the last piece of their body was consumed. Standing up to his full height, Sukuna still looked down at you. The blood on his skin began to sizzle off, evaporating into the air and leaving the pungent smile of iron behind.

“Have I made you happy?” He responded, cupping your face and lightly squishing your cheeks. Smiling proudly, a warm flush washed over your face the longer you and Sukuna looked at each other.

“Yes, very.” Nuzzling into his palm and kissing it, you let out a breathless laugh as Sukuna did the same.

“I’m happy to please you.” Kissing you on the top of the head, Sukuna pulled out the list and crossed out the first name. “Shall we go to the others now?”

#tw: violence #tw: blood #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[cadopan]

Arsenal’s player ratings for Manchester City vs Arsenal FAWSL Matchday 11 (1-1)

I think I’ll just be straight up with it and say that although it felt like the best thing in the world to nab a draw in the dying moments of the game, I don’t think we deserved it. People are saying it’s a “fair result”, yes, due to the mishandled ruling by the ref that led to our goal, but looking at the game in its entirety — City were the better side and rightfully took the lead. Anyway, it wasn’t all as gloomy as I made it sound so far, there were significant positives from an Arsenal POV and I’m excited to get into those too. Leggo! 

As usual: these are based on my impressions of watching the game live, not analysing it in replays so there could be moments that I didn’t pick up on, I’m not claiming to have remembered all of it. 

Starting XI:

Manu — 6.5/10. Not at fault for the goal, and put in multiple solid saves that kept us in the game. The one at point-blank range from Jess Park was especially fantastic. An anon once pointed out that Manu either “makes worldie saves or stays rooted to the ground, there’s no in between” and it particularly resonated with me as I watched her in this match haha. Her distribution is generally okay, but she takes ages to release it and is often lumbering over the ball so that gives me mini heart attacks sometimes. Noelle — 6/10. One might say this is a little high for her since it was her side that got completely cut open when we conceded (and several times thereafter), but I still think she did a tremendous job of keeping Lauren Hemp quiet up till that moment in the game. I mean, she was totally bossing Hemp in the first half and her defensive covering was near perfect too. But as she was in her last game against United, her forward contributions have completely faltered and I don’t even recall the last time I saw her overlap or join the attack.  Leah — 7.5/10. I don’t want to watch an Arsenal game without her again. Literally our saviour, best passer (among all the outfield players I’m not lying), and so much more. It’s an entirely different viewing experience when she’s in that backline and she’s on the ball. Honestly, if we had the CB depth I would move her into midfield in a heartbeat because she was doing more ball progressing and accurately spraying passes than all the midfield combined until she had to be subbed off. Thank goodness it wasn’t injury problems that came back but she just went off because she was tired. Lotte — 6.5/10. She did alright, aeons better than what she’s been showing for the past half a dozen performances at least. Both CBs did ever so well to completely nullify Bunny Shaw’s presence in the first half, and that’s a feat — Bunny Shaw is a literal physical specimen; Lotte is quite well-built and even she looked dwarfed next to Bunny. In terms of buildup, she tried some long diagonal balls in the second half but you can definitely tell that they lack the crispness and accuracy of Leah’s distributions. Leah’s balls pick out an attacking player (usually one of the wingers) and immediately stick to their feet, whereas Lotte’s ones sorta float into the air and the player on the receiving end has to jostle with a defender for it. Katie — 4/10. I didn’t think Katie had a good game at all. She was letting Jess Park rinse her time and again, and she just won’t give up on foolish fouls that I fully expected her to get a red and be sent off. Her crosses were overhit many a time and she barely offered anything that impacted our attacking game either, but truly it was the defending that was not up to standard. Jess Park essentially had all of City’s good chances (at least three or four) and they were all very damning ones where she was left wide open on that right wing. Oh, and I don’t even want to think of our predicted lineup for the upcoming Brighton game which she’ll have to miss because of accumulated yellow cards. Let’s all think back to our away game at Reading when she got booked for time-wasting while we were 4-0 up. Sigh, if only… Frida — 4.5/10. Sadly, also poor. She doesn’t seem like she’s getting anywhere near regaining that early-season form and she just looks stripped of confidence in whatever she does. Any time she tried to pick out a pass or get the ball forward, it was wayward and straight back into the feet of the City defenders. I feel like I’m watching a different player to be honest; there’s zero creativity coming from her on the ball and I actually have to make it a point to notice her because her presence is that nonexistent in midfield. As long as Lia’s fit, Lia needs to start ahead of her or else that extra body in midfield is going to amount to nothing but a ghost. 

Kim — 5/10. Even as the team’s been beyond poor these days, I felt Kim was one of few who kept her level to a certain standard each game, but today she got on my nerves a lot. We’ve all echoed it many times I’m sure, but she. takes. too. long. to. pass. the. ball. Countless opportunities to break on the counter and teammates around her busting a gut to offer themselves as an option, but she just dwells on the ball and a swarm of opponents eventually forces her to turn back or wiggle free into a position where the attack is already dead. Move the ball along and even if the pass isn’t threaded exactly right, it gives us a chance to make something happen further up the pitch!!! This is so clear for everyone to see, so Jonas or the girls better be getting on her case about this. That being said, marking 250 appearances for the club is monumental, and she deserves all her flowers because she has been one of the most consistent players this season so far (despite my frustrations with her today).

Jordan — 5/10. I really wanted Jordan to have a good game because she was awful during the last, but boy did she make it hard for herself by starting the first 30 or so minutes absolutely terribly. She was getting her pocket picked nonstop and losing possession all over the pitch. I’d say the only saving grace today was her work rate; girl ran everywhere, from making well-timed defensive tackles to pressing the opponent goalie way up at the front. It was a performance as if to show how much it prides her to be a box-to-box midfielder. And to be fair, a couple of times in the second half she spun the defences and did well to get some quick passing going, but still… these moments were few and far between and we need way more of those from her. Preferably asap, since Kim’s not much of a chance creator to begin with and Frida is just floundering at the moment.

Beth — 5.5/10. Arguably all of our best chances of the night fell to her. The open goal from the goalie error in the first half, and her shimmy past Lucy Bronze that led to her chance later in the game. I would like to think early season Beth would’ve put at least one of those away. And a recurring feature of her game today was that she just took too many touches. And it’s a different kind of dilly dallying on the ball compared to Kim, because Kim stays on the ball but rarely gives up possession. Whereas when you’re one of the forward players, the decisiveness required is so much faster as you have defenders facing up to close you down and also because the opportunity wasted is so much more valuable. Finally, we all know Beth does her best work on the right wing, not the left where she has to start if Keets plays. It’s actually hurting us that our best LW option is an injury-prone Tobin and we don’t have an out-and-out left winger whose best position is there. How bout we cop another one from Hoffenheim, Jule Brand anyone?

Viv — 5/10. Sigh, I think even that might be generous. The only reason it isn’t lower, and I sound like a broken record saying this is because she isn’t getting enough service. At all, in fact. Our play through the middle seems all but broken down, and we’re feeding the balls to our wingers but they aren’t actually sending in balls that Viv can get her head (or boot) onto?? Bless her for dropping so deep every game just to carry the ball forward herself and kick off a move so she can get some service. Even if we scrape by matches like this and grind out results till the end of the season, can’t blame her if she leaves soon because I wouldn’t want to be playing this kind of football either. 

Keets — 4/10. Yeah, she had a really bad game. I don’t even remember the times she got forward or looked threatening with her pace (which is what she’s in the team for), but rather her defensive tracking back instead. Though I’m sure Noelle appreciated those greatly. And it greatly limits us that she can only function as a right winger (or centre forward but no room for that since, well, Viv and Stina). Whenever she and Beth have this mid-match switcheroo, we instantly look 50% less dangerous because she’s simply ineffective on the left wing. And it becomes a clusterfuck in the centre because she drifts inward into Viv’s space and there’s just a huge gaping hole going forward on the left side. Ideally, Katie could bomb up and take over that space to send crosses in from deep, but she couldn’t do that as she was occupied with Jess Park… so it really only works against weaker teams who sit deep and let us have the ball, not in an open game like today’s.

Subs:

Rafaelle — 6.5/10. What a breath of fresh air. Gone are the days where I had to dread every moment a long ball was played behind us or we had to defend a counter. What an introduction, and she was outpacing/dealing with Bunny Shaw ever so well until she got her tap-in. Upon watching the replays of their goal, I did find myself a little disappointed that she just let Hemp’s cross glide past her and into Bunny’s path. As a CB, one should at least attempt a slide or interception instead of just ball-watching in that situation but I guess she didn’t want to risk an own goal on her debut lol. Elsewhere, she also did a Leah-esque forage forward in the second half which gave me hope that our buildup from the back will not have to be so reliant on Leah from here on. Anyway, good stuff and hope she keeps it up so we don’t have to see the likes of our other CBs start another game again.

Lia — 5/10. Came on, did her job, but I’ll just be blunt and say that her impact was minimal so I might as well not really give her a rating. She came on right before the opening goal, and once the goal was scored we practically crumbled until the last few minutes when Tobin rescued us a point. Stanway and Weir were carving up our midfield in that passage of play right after we conceded, I was practically waiting for them to extended their lead. Back to Lia, she should start the next match and I said it in another ask but I think she’ll do well to sit in front of Leah and our new CB combination of those two who are more adept in possession should help her get into the rhythm of spraying out her inch perfect passes a lot more. 

Tobin — 7.5/10. What a way to come back in style. At the death, too. And it wasn’t just her goal that was impressive; she was doing her part to relieve us of City’s pressure and started off in much deeper positions way back in our half (also due to the formation change when Stina came on). So it was just superb play that she got herself in that position to finish off her goal, and the execution really doesn’t require more to be said. She delivers in important moments, but I think we all already knew that. @ Injury Gods, please let her stay fit for the rest of the season, please please please. Tobin-Viv-Beth front three has to become a mainstay, especially for this tough patch of matches we have coming up. 

Stina — 6.5/10. Her presence in and around the box in undeniable. And it was her being in the thick of things that made Tobin’s goal possible in the first place. Mmm, and we did get to see Viv and Stina coexist together, but I actually thought it was pretty ineffective and would’ve been considered somewhat underwhelming if the late equaliser didn’t happen. Given, we were in shambles after conceding, but they were hardly linking up with one another and just sorta hovering around that front space together. They defo need more time to gel so I’d be open to seeing more of this two-at-the-top system but Stina could just be a direct replacement for Viv and I’d be fine with that too. Although, I loved seeing her call for the ball and make darting runs into space, then receive it with her chest or outmuscle the City player to get to it. This kind of “target” presence leading the front line is really important, and Viv hasn’t really been (or hasn’t been getting the chance) to do this in recent times so it was different element that we were missing. 

My MOTM goes to Tobin even though her shining moment was solely that stunning goal but she gets it because of how well-taken and dramatically late in the game that was, and how simply average everyone else was. Tbh, it should go to a City player and that would be Lauren Hemp (followed closely by Jess Park) because their wingers today were nearly unplayable and all the moves that contributed to them looking the better side came from contributions via those two.

Bonus:

Jonas Eidevall — 3/10. Yeah I’m getting annoyed with this dude. His screaming incident was already a huge turnoff and mark of unprofessionalism, but he’s repeatedly losing his temper when he should know better as the leader of the team it’s really not a good look in my books. Not to mention the players looking less and less convinced by his “game plans” or tactics, I wouldn’t be surprised if things gradually start to go south (if it hasn’t already). He’s really fortunate we didn’t walk away with nothing today because whatever he set out to do, didn’t fall into place at all and individual magic rescued his ass. Also haven’t read his post-match comments or interview but I have no impetus to dissect anything from him right now anyway. 

Referee — 2/10. In this day and age where we can easily whip out the rule books and technicalities, it’s especially easy to dispute a decision that was utterly wrong, which it was. Rightfully, play should have been halted and restarted in City’s possession (or a drop ball) but I can also understand what was going through the ref’s mind when she decided to wave play on. Possession wasn’t lost to the other side and actually ended up with another City player, albeit in a more fortuitous position (according to hindsight), so she let it carry on. And I think that we were thoroughly beaten in the following few moves (Hemp gliding past Maritz and the cross beating both Lotte and Rafa), so it was a fact that we came second best in the defending and thus let the ball into the back of our net. I’m just happy this headache isn’t the headline thanks to Tobin’s equaliser because I don’t want to wade through all that whining even if it’s for pleading my team’s case. But that ref was also dodgy on some of her other calls and I didn’t like her at all. 

Overall: Phew, we finally got here. Thanks for sticking with it if you managed to read this far! 

To sum it up, what I took from today’s performance was that we still have so far to go in getting the players clicking together and actually play as a team. So many times I thought to myself, this team is not even thinking of working together. Especially in attack when being in tandem is so crucial. Like are they even looking for each other when they send out a pass or just whacking it aimlessly? Even for our goal, the ball fortunately fell at Beth’s feet from the City defender misclearing it and we scrambled it into a chance for Tobin. 

Hence, throughout the game I also got the sense that players were just trying to do too much by themselves. Individual magic is what we were counting on from the moment the kick-off started and today we had Tobin Heath to provide that, but we all know teams don’t get very far only relying on that. Certainly not the top teams, which we are aspiring to be and certainly have the personnel to do so. I’m at least grateful for a slightly positive result to cap off the weekend after taking countless hits over the past week from both the men’s and women’s Arsenal teams 😮‍💨 Feel free to leave your thoughts in my ask if you have any, I always enjoy a good discussion.

Edit: one other thing that leaves me feeling more meh over this match rather than celebrating the draw is the fact that City were the better side, but didn’t look like they outplayed us off the park in a way I sort of expected. To be even poorer than a side that was also kind of underwhelming given the bolstered squad they have now, is what gets me down most. It felt different from, say, imagining how Chelsea would play us. If our team met Chelsea in our current state, we would surely be ravaged, maybe even worse than the outcome of the FA Cup final. 

#my player ratings #arsenal wfc #man city wfc #fawsl #fawsl 21/22 #manu zinsberger #noelle maritz #leah williamson #lotte wubben moy #katie mccabe #frida maanum #jordan nobbs #kim little #beth mead #vivianne miedema #nikita parris #rafaelle souza #lia walti #tobin heath #stina blackstenius #jonas eidevall #lauren hemp #jess park #bunny shaw #man city women #woso #chelsea fcw

[shoutogepi]

Red Roses

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.5k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), flowershop!au ]  

themes : haaaa where to begin… almost dubcon?? (BEWARE!), dom!kiri, size kink!kiri, light spanking, tinyyy bit of ass play, little use of “Sir”

bio : Kirishima decides to educate you on the alternative meaning behind a red rose.

author’s note : this fic was meant to be for the @bnhabookclub​ provisional licensing exam event using their flowershop!au, but alas... i am a lazy procrastinator. anyway you should check them out!! i’ve absolutely loved being a part of something so great. also thanks to all who helped me with this fic <3 buuut special thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​​ for beta reading <3

tagging: @queensynderella @marilla-eldriana @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @hisoknen 

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he bell tinkles overhead as you step into the quaint store, palm clammy against the metal doorknob and chest tight with apprehension.

“Y/N! Thank god for you,” your friend exclaims from behind the register, sliding over the counter with ease. She shoves the apron she’s holding into your hands before attempting to throw her hair into a messy bun. “I cannot believe my sitter cancelled on me this last minute— my husband has to be out of the house in ten minutes!”

You smile at her gratefulness, but your eyes are not on her. The curtains on the back room part and out steps the store owner, red eyes landing on you. “Y/N,” he greets you, the timbre of his voice low and cool. You nod and smile hesitantly toward him, shifting your attention back to your friend even though you can feel his gaze raking over your body.

Yuki wags a disapproving finger toward the man behind the counter, “Kiri, you better take good care of her!” She commands with a playful yet firm tone, body already halfway through the door you’d just come in through.

Your entire being screams out for you to beg her to stay, but you hold your tongue as you recall it was you who said you’d cover her shift. She already seems to have had the stress lifted from her shoulders at your arrival, and you can’t bear to back out after coming all the way here.

Looking back toward the source of your stress, you can’t help but admire him. Scarlet locks hang down around his face, majority pulled back into a sleek, short ponytail to give you a better view of his handsome face— jawline sharp as his teeth and the scar on his forehead slicing through his brow. He’s tall; well over six foot with rippling muscles adorning his long, tan arms. He’s wearing a crisp, white button down rolled up to the elbows, black and red ink poking out of the hem and trailing down his forearms. The store’s pine green apron is pulled snug around his figure, accentuating his broad chest and narrow hips. You already know his ass looks incredible, even though it’s hidden by the plastic countertop. He’s a five course meal on legs, for Christ’s sake, but you know better than to get ideas— he’s a player.

“Of course,” Kirishima replies across the store after her retreating form. His eyes drift over to you, catching your stare. “I’ll take great care of her.”

The door closes, sealing you to your fate with the red beast of a man. For a moment you just stand there, frozen as your mind runs through a thousand thoughts. Before he can comment about your blatant staring, you rip your eyes away from his, throwing the neck of the apron above your head. Tugging the tie around the back of your waist, your fingers fumble with the thick material as you turn to face him again. “So what should I work on?”

He seems amused at your question, even though it’s extremely valid. Not even bothering to hide the generous once-over he gives you when you've finally tightened the bow behind your back, he takes his time to answer you. “Yuki usually does the ordering for next week’s shipments tonight, but I’ll do that. You can put together some bouquets— I’ll give you one to follow off of.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s giving you real work to do, but then again, you are covering a shift after all. Kirishima shows you the corner behind the counter designated for bouquet assembly, and he helps you make the first bouquet before he slips away behind the curtains of the back room once again, leaving you alone in the store.

He’d picked a simple bouquet for you to reproduce; a dozen red roses with a few sprigs of baby’s breath and a touch of greenery. The work is pleasantly methodic to complete, and by the time the sky is dark, a small sense of pride blooms in your chest at the pile of bouquets you’d managed to complete. It’s five minutes to close, and not a single customer has come into the store in the last hour. You’re snipping the ends off of the last branch of baby’s breath when you hear the rustle of the curtains behind you.

Immediately the atmosphere of the room changes. The once warm and light mood that filled the shop dissipates, replaced with a heavy, silent tension that causes trepidation to ooze into your veins.

“These look pretty good, Y/N,” Kirishima speaks from behind you, thick fingers moving over the packages of cellophane in a slow, analytical sweep. You roll your eyes, wondering if he’d thought you’d do a shit job or something.

You open your mouth to give him a curt thanks, but your voice dies in your throat as you feel his presence a hair’s breadth from your backside. The heat that rolls off of him licks at your skin through your clothes, your hands fixed midair.

“Though this one’s a little off,” he murmurs, breath washing over the shell of your ear. His hands come into your field of vision, arms absurdly thick and just generally large in comparison to you. His hands are just as big, dwarfing yours as he plucks the dainty flower from your stiff fingers.

The tattoos that peek out from the cuff of his sleeves hold a certain gravity that captures your stare. You watch him tuck the stem among the bouquet in your peripheral, placing it in precisely the perfect location to make the ensemble flawless.

Your stomach lurches when his chest brushes against your shoulders, fingers turning in on themselves to form to meager fists that you place atop the counter. “There,” he whispers, and you can feel just how close his lips are to touching your ear.

His voice does something to you; up close like this it sounds almost akin to how a tiger’s purr rumbles through its whole body. Except it’s your body that it thunders through, an unwanted heat beginning to form between your thighs. You shift your legs slightly, bringing your feet closer together in an attempt to mitigate the sensation.

You nearly gasp when he pulls away, eyelids fluttering shut in relief.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” he comments, returning to the pile of bouquets that rest along the countertop. He starts to tuck them into his arms, red gaze flickering to gauge your expression. There’s a knowing gleam in his eyes, and you try your best not to allow heat to flood into your cheeks. But he doesn’t push it any further, turning and walking around the counter to crouch in front of one of the fridges that line the wall. You find yourself wishing for the cool air to wash over your own face, and you grab a few bouquets before making your way over to him.

You kneel down next to him, slightly annoyed that even sitting down he’s still at least a head taller than you. Stupid proportional man. You open the door and prop it open against your hip, leaning in to place the fresh bouquets inside an empty bucket, following Kirishima’s lead.

Kirishima watches you from the corner of his eye for a moment. “Thank you,” he says as he continues to fill the buckets in front of him, “for filling in for Yuki, I mean. The shop doesn’t look too busy but it needs two people to keep it up and running, so… I appreciate you coming in.”

His words are unexpected, and they bring a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks. You’d never seen the playboy be so openly appreciative before, although honestly you’ve only seen the fuckboy side of him— the one that eyes you down, and blatantly flirts with you when you come to visit your friend during her shifts. “Of course, Kiri,” you reply automatically. The burning in your cheeks only intensifies when you realize you’ve addressed him so informally, but when you turn to apologize to him, you find he’s much too close for comfort. He’s leaned in, taking you by surprise as the scent of his deep, savory cologne wafts into your face. Those carmine eyes piece into yours, making your stomach fill with butterflies, flapping round your stomach in a concoction of nerves and— you hate to admit it— hunger.

“You’ve done such good work today, Y/N,” he nearly whispers, and you watch as his full lips part to utter the words, sharp fangs glinting at you. Before you lose yourself to the moment, he stands, mollifying the intensity and severing you from the invisible string that pulls your gaze to his. You hesitantly take the hand he reaches out to you, trying not to think about how truly huge it is compared to yours. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you still as his other hand comes to touch the back of your waist when you all but collide into his chest. “Sorry,” he says but you wouldn’t deem his tone apologetic, “you’re so dainty, y’know— like a flower.”

You turn on your heel to face the other direction, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his comment affects you; you’re sure you look like a bird with fluffed, ruffled feathers— you certainly feel that way at least. You let out an awkward laugh as you take a hasty step toward the register, your body wanting nothing more than to rid itself of this infuriatingly delicious heat that Kirishima’s words create underneath your skin, licking and crawling along your bones. Finding yourself safely harbored behind the counter once again, your eyes fall to the nearly-completed bouquet you were just wrapping up when Kirishima exited the back room. Your fingers reach for a sprig of greenery, flat wide leaves fanning out in an elegant manner that could only accentuate the beauty and simplicity of the red bouquet.

But your sense of security is proven false, for Kirishima’s deep, demanding voice trickles like honey into your ears. “Red roses are accepted as the symbol of love all around the world,” he pauses for dramatic effect, and you hate to admit you’re left teetering on the edge of your metaphorical seat waiting for his next words, “but true florists know they convey another meaning.”

By the clarity of his diction you can tell he’s standing not far behind you, probably a step or two away. You can feel your heart rate spike again, your breath catching as you wonder what his next move will be. “And what’s that?” You reply dryly but it comes out more like a breathless whisper.

His thick forearms intrude your vision and settle on either side of your figure, leaving just a touch of space from your flesh. Your nearly shaking fingers drop the twig of leaves when he reaches between your hands, plucking a single thorny stem from the assembly before you and holding the soft, velvety petals to the tip of your nose. He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know to take a sniff of the blossom, and you inhale as much as your lungs will take before he answers your question, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“Desire.”

Your body freezes completely, too shocked to even draw in a breath of air, when his pointy teeth graze the very tip of your ear. Jaw hanging at his sheer impudence, you’re still as a statue when he moves the soft swell of the bloom across your far cheek, soft petals trailing along your fiery skin. The action tickles slightly, causing your head to turn toward his face that hangs down above your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he coos, and again there’s that rumble in his voice that resonates through your frame. He drops the flower, not caring to even spare a glance as it falls from his fingertips. The digits move to cup your chin, middle finger pushing the corner of your jaw to swing your face directly in front of his. Simmering red eyes stare deep into yours, flickering toward your lips briefly before he decides he no longer wants to drag this out.

You’re horrified to moan so unabashedly when his lips press against yours in a vicious siege, dominating them and claiming them as his. His kiss is rough, as if he can’t hold himself back from his beast-like passion, yet it’s much more meaningful and encaptivating than you’d imagined it would be. His arm slithers around your hips to place his hand atop your ribs. Your eyes widen at his undisguised motive, and you open your mouth to call him out— but before you can pull away to tell him to stop, his tongue slips between your lips. Knees wobbly at the sudden intrusion, your tongue begins to move with his, stroking, and swirling, and tangling into one sexy, sloppy mess. His hand slips from its place on your ribs, drifting underneath the side of your apron and cupping your entire breast— not much of a challenge for his large palm.

Kirishima moans into your mouth at your acceptance, and you can only croak out a small whimper of reciprocation. His hand is hot through the nearly sheer fabric of your blouse, and the bra does not do much to block his calloused hands from your chest. His other hand continues to grip your jaw, just hard enough so you’d have to struggle to pull away from him. That is, if you were ever to want to pull away from him.

Your hands are still frozen in front of you, unsure what exactly to do in this situation. Mind completely exhausted of all higher levels of thought, the only emotions you can recognize are lust and satisfaction. Actually, your brain is so hazy with these feelings that you don’t even complain when he starts to undo the tie at the back of your apron. His teeth drag across your bottom lip, the sharp edges not quite pressed hard enough to cut you, but for some reason it brings an unexpected thrill. Pulling away from your mouth, Kirishima’s lips meander across your jaw, his hand tilting your head up so he can continue his journey to your throat. He sucks on the tender flesh there, inhaling your sweet and clean scent as his tongue washes against your skin. You gasp at his brazen action, ass pushing against his hips to discover something long and thick there. Teeth prick into your flesh just a touch too hard, but he’s let go of you after only a minute, and he traces over the small wounds with careful licks.  

“Do you,” you suck in short breath when he squeezes your breast, your words faltering, “Do you do this with all your employees?” You taunt, but Kirishima can recognize the doubt in your tone. It’s hidden under false scorn, but your question is pure and filled with true intent. 

He pauses his treatment on your neck for a spell, and when he speaks, the wet skin on your throat feels cold as his breath falls upon it. “Of course not,” he purrs, raising his head to take your earlobe between his teeth, pulling away and sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. Your body jolts at the stimulation, and your bottom brushes against his crotch again. This time, his hand moves from your breast to wrap around your waist, securing you in place. He presses his concealed cock against the swell of your ass, and you bite your lip at the sheer size of him. Leaning in, he places a long stripe on the side of your ear with his hot tongue, and you can hear the teasing dripping from his voice. “Only with the pretty ones who beg for it.”

Kirishima’s hips rut against your ass, and he holds you in place so that the gentle grind he offers is felt in full effect. You nearly moan at the feeling of his hot length rubbing against you, your pussy starting to leak onto your panties. Of course you know he’s been around, but he’s so sexy— and he’s got to be good at what he does with all that experience.

He pauses, angling your face to still in front of his again. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a pleased smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. He turns your face away again, and your eyes fall shut as his nose scrapes along your cheek. “Yuki says to stay away from you,” he grumbles, lips pressing against your cheek as he speaks, a groan slipping from his parted lips as he rolls his hips into yours particularly hard. Your bottom lip is held prisoner between your teeth in a desperate attempt to hold in the moan that craves to be set free. “Says a good girl like you is too good for me to be messin’ around with.” His words convey a dash of irritation, and you’re caught off-guard at the seasoning of disdain.

You wonder when she’d told him that— when they’d talked about you— but Kirishima does not allow you another moment to ponder it. He kisses you again, and all thoughts are cleansed from your brain as his lips seize yours. The hand on your chin drops and you gasp as it lands on the hem of your skirt, curling around you so his hot palm rests on your inner thigh, just a short distance from your soaked panties. Your feet move to draw your legs together, and your quivering thighs rub against his hand as you struggle to make your body move to your will. Pulling back to fill your lungs with fresh air, you mumble against his lips, “Kirishima, that’s—”

“But I know you’re not all that innocent,” he continues, fingertips brushing over the saturated lace. He groans as he traces along your slit, delighted to find you’re more than aroused from all his touching and teasing. Your cheeks feel impossibly hot, and you let out a soft whimper as he grazes over your clit a few times, your head falling back against his broad chest. Kirishima takes in your lustful expression, and the way your eyelashes flutter at him makes his cock twitch in his pants. “You’re so wet, sweetheart— fuck, you’re a naughty little thing. Y’want this, huh?”

Even though you only give him the slightest nod, he seems to accept your response, for his grip around your waist tightens considerably, pulling you flush against him. His hips buck against yours and you moan aloud when the clothed tip of his cock rubs against your panties through your skirt. You can’t even react when he spins you around, your head feeling fuzzy and laden with desire. He grabs your hips, easily placing you on the edge of the countertop before his fingers move to rip off your apron, then coming to undo the buttons at the front of your blouse. “The— The store,” you pant, eyes darting toward the door that currently sports the ‘open’ side of the sign. You swallow thickly when Kirishima falls to his knees, landing at the perfect height for him to put his head between your thighs.

His hands move to snag the hips of your panties, and you nearly whine in embarrassment when he slides the item down your legs, a thick string of your lust connecting the material to your pussy before it severs. Kirishima only moans in awe, pride oozing into his system as he takes in how drenched you are for him. He shoves the soiled lace into his pocket, and you whine at the action, about to complain but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry, Princess. No one’s gonna bother us,” he breathes out as he comes closer to your weeping core, your slick trickling down your ass cheek to drip onto the countertop.

White hot mortification bursts through you as he takes a long whiff of your pussy, and you squirm to move backwards but rough hands trap your thighs open, dragging your ass to hang halfway off the edge. He smirks as he looks up at you, examining your flustered expression.

“You ‘dunno how long I’ve wanted to have a taste of this sweet little pussy,” he growls, and your hands fly to the end of the counter to steady yourself, grasping onto it tightly. He chuckles when your cunt twitches before him at his words, his hands spreading your thighs apart into an obtuse angle, moving forward to drag his nose along your slick folds. You whimper at the contact, clenching around nothing as he teases you, your mouth falling open to suck in ragged breaths of air. His tongue darts out just slightly, and he runs the tip along your slit, separating your folds and savoring how your thighs shake underneath his grasp. “Mmmm,” he moans, sending tiny vibrations echoing through your sopping cunt, “good girls always taste the best.”

You can’t bear to look at him any longer, and you move your hand to place your curled knuckle between your teeth as his tongue creeps out, the flat muscle petting over your entrance slowly. His teeth graze your clit and you whine at the stimulation, the smooth enamel sliding across your bundle of nerves easily. His tongue is slow and playful, stroking you and avoiding where he knows you want him most.

Kirishima nuzzles into your cunt, rubbing your clit again with a lewd snarl pulling up his lips. “Look at me,” he commands and you follow his direction instantly, eyes blown wide with lust and tongue pressed tight against your knuckle. He groans at the sight, and you only shift your hips in his grasp to try to get closer to his mouth. Those scarlet eyes find yours once again, and you struggle to hold his gaze as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in and rolling his tongue over it. He moves the muscle hard against you, just fast enough to have you moaning out, your hand flying from your mouth to grasp the top of his crimson hair. Pulling away briefly, he blows a small huff of air across your heat, shit-eating grin splitting to gloat. “Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart? Be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me.”

Your lips waver as they press into a firm line, your thighs straining to close at the intensity when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. But his massive hands hold your legs apart without any effort, and he lashes his tongue against you without mercy. There is nothing more you want other than to throw your head back and close your eyes, jaw hanging open and heated pants drifting out, but you force your gaze to remain on the man between your legs. Your fingernails scrape against his scalp as you try to find some way to channel the pleasure he introduces to your body, but the action only seems to spur him on. One hand leaves your thigh only for his other arm to wrap right around your ass, and your hips buck helplessly against his face when a fingertip prods your slicked entrance.

Kirishima does not ask for permission, and you suck in a silent gasp as his finger spreads your pussy, shock and pleasure shooting through your limbs at the stretch just one finger provides. “You seem a little quiet, sweetheart. Wanna hear that sweet voice of yours again,” he growls against your pussy, tongue flicking down to trail along the edges of his finger lodged deep inside of you.

You can only whimper as he glides the digit out, pushing it back inside slowly and nearly making your eyes roll back in your skull. His finger is already so long and thick— god, if you had fingers like that you could probably make yourself cum in—

A shriek of bliss rips from your lungs as he thrusts his finger into you, curling toward himself and rubbing some place your fingers have never reached. There’s a cocky grin on his face, and you hate to admit he looks so good looking up at you like that from between your legs, but you can’t bring yourself to form any words. “That was cute,” he chuckles, jagged teeth nipping gently at your pearl again and forcing your entire body twitch against him. He makes sure to capture your full attention before he finishes his thought, the corners of his lip curling with something darker. “Is that the best you’ve got? I think you can do better.”

He’s anything but gentle, the heel of his palm rubbing against your folds as he fucks his finger into you at a rapid pace. You’re seeing stars flash before your eyes, the sliver of sanity you were so desperately clinging to ripped from your grasp. You cry out when his mouth returns to your clit, sucking, and flicking, and slurping. Your eyes just won’t stay open, jaw losing the opposite battle as it hangs ajar, broken and unrestrained moans tumbling out like a burst dam.

Kirishima seems satisfied with your reaction, and he begins to groan against your cunt. You’re dripping with enough slick to coat the entire lower half of his face, and the vibrations from his throat only reverberate through your pussy, making you sharply tug on his hair.

“K-Kirishima,” you pant, a plea about to leave your lips. You’re not sure if you want to beg him to stop, or to give you even more. But Kirishima makes that decision for you.

A strained gasp slices though you when his finger slides out of you, only to be pressed against another digit and shoved into you. The unexpected addition causes you to yelp, a strained moan purring out of you as he allows a few slow strokes for you to adjust. Jesus, having two of his fingers in you feels like you’re being stuffed already— a fleeting pang of fear shooting through you as you wonder what his cock will feel like. But you’re not allowed to ponder the thought, his fingers picking up the pace and curling against that spongy spot again.

Body squirming with bliss, your hips thrash in his hold, switching between scooting back and forth, rocking yourself against his mouth. Kirishima can feel your cunt begin to tighten snug round his thick fingers, your walls fluttering and pulsing at his rough but generous stimulation. “Gonna cum? Bet you make sucha pretty face when you cum, come on sweetheart,” he murmurs, slick lips kissing along the top of your pussy, across your clit. You would’ve cum already if he just kept that sly mouth of his on your clit, and you don’t expect his next words to affect you so much as you cum all over his hand. “Sooner you cum, sooner I can split you open with this cock. You want that, right? Wanna have me fuck that tight little cunt— y’wanna be my good girl, huh?”

Kirishima holds your hips close, arm tightening around your bottom as your body spasms with your orgasm, euphoria zipping through your entirety. The broken moan that rings out into the room makes his cock pulse in his pants, trousers feeling suddenly much too snug for his liking. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, thighs quivering atop the counter and toes curled in your sneakers.

Finally he allows you a moment to breathe, fingers slipping out of your pussy and standing before you. His arm slides up with him, snagging around your waist to lay his palm flat against your shoulder blade and hold you upright. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smirks as your eyes finally open, only to catch him tracing his tongue along the fingers that just brought you to heaven’s gates.

Your palms land on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers curling around straps of his apron. He laughs as you whine gently, ducking down a considerable distance and allowing you to slip the loop over his head. You undo his shirt as your lips collide, this time in a sloppy and desperate kiss. His tongue rolls over yours in your mouth as he tugs your bra to rest on top of your chest, your breasts spilling out into his eager palm. He thumbs over your nipples and growls against your mouth, and you whimper and allow your fingers to spread across the flesh of his chest. When you open your eyes, you notice a black and red dragon carved into the top of his pec, dipping halfway down from his collar bone and curling around his shoulder down the length of his arm.

Shirts thrown to the floor in crumpled heaps, you trail your fingers down his hard six pack, thumb combing through a neat trail of black above the button of his jeans. Digits running down to cup his hard length, you look at him with wanton eyes and groan. “Wanna taste you, Kiri.”

Kirishima clicks his tongue in his mouth, a beefy hand wrapping around your wrist entirely and steering your hand to rest on the bulge on his thigh. Your eyes widen almost comically, your throat drying and pussy tightening with a cocktail of apprehension and excitement. He leans down to run his tongue along the column of your throat before he pulls back with a brief nibble to your jaw, locking eyes with you. “I don’t think a sweet girl like you can handle taking me in your mouth.”

His fingers move to undo the button on his jeans, the suspense thick in the air as you watch in awe. He tugs the jeans to rest beneath his ass, the bulge in his black boxer-briefs already indicating you might be in for more than you can handle. You try not to let your jaw drop when his cock springs free, swollen tip glazed with a sheen of pre and pulsing veins decorating the entire shaft. Hand around the base of his cock, you whimper as it only covers half his length— his fist is already considerably bigger than yours and suddenly you’re in fear for your pussy.

Kirishima laughs at your expression, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and smoothing the hair from your forehead. “Don’t worry Princess,” he murmurs, arm around your waist again to push your hips to the very edge of the countertop. Your pussy twitches when the head of his cock brushes your folds, and you find yourself wondering if you’re about to be in a world of pain or pleasure. Probably both. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing gentle, wet kisses there.

“I don’t— I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you croak out, arms hesitantly wrapping around his neck. Yet your legs spread on their own accord, inching forward so his cock rubs against your opening.

Kirishima purrs at the action, licking his lips against your throat. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and spits into it, the crude noise making you flinch and wrinkle your nose in disgust. But it doesn’t last for long— any conscious thought leaves your brain when you glance down, seeing him stroke the top half of his cock with his slick hand. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and pull him closer, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is about to come.

Thankfully his movements are slow as he pushes into your wet cunt, and you’re surprised how easily his length slides into you. The stretch is unreal— unlike anything you’ve ever felt before— and it takes all your willpower not to clench around him for you know that will just cause you further discomfort. He only enters you halfway, grip tight on your waist as if he’s having a hard time controlling himself. Sighing against the flushed skin of your neck, he moves to kiss you again, lips tender and careful.

You whimper when he gives a tentative thrust, your nails clawing into the muscles lining the top of his shoulder. His cock is so thick, and knowing it’s only halfway inside you has your stomach twisting in terror. He’s goddamn huge. It takes a few more gentle thrusts for your grip on him to loosen, and your body relaxes slightly in his arms.

Kirishima clearly has enough experience with this, because the pace he sets is perfect. His hands slide all over your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of flesh he can find. Hips rock into yours at a slow, benevolent pace, your pussy stretched wide around him and fluttering as his thick veins drag along your velvet walls. Lips finding yours again, his tongue and pointed teeth distract you as with each thrust his cock shifts a tiny bit deeper inside of you.

At some point you start to moan, head falling back and mouth open wide as long, unadulterated sounds float out from the bottom of your lungs. Kirishima’s pace hastens, hands landing on your hips and thrusting into you swiftly. His cock is making your head spin, brain full of fog as your heart hammers in your ribs. He swears as his rough hand claps atop your ass cheek, taking note of the way your pussy shivers around him and a sharp squeak is summoned from your lips. “God you’re fuckin’ tight sweetheart— fuck, you a virgin?” He moans, fingers biting into the reddened skin on your ass. When you shake your head at him, he questions how on earth it is possible for you to be this snug around him, but he makes sure to thank whatever deity there is for it.

You cry out when his thumb greets your clit, and he fights to maintain his measured pace at the way your cunt squeezes so tightly. Your slick is dripping onto the countertop, his cock buried deep in your core, again and again. His added stimulation to your clit has you gasping for breath, a coil in your stomach filling with pressure. “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod Kiri please don’t stoppp,” you beg, pupils drifting up into your skull and your hands flying all over his torso, grabbing whatever skin you can reach.

Kirishima groans, palm pushing your tailbone forward so your hips bump against his. You scream at the full intensity of his cock inside of you; every inch and every vein setting fire to your insides, his thumb relentless on your clit. Your vision turns white as you reach your peak, your body seizing in ecstasy. Pulling him close, you wheeze for breath against his chest, his thumb never stilling its movement on your clit until you grab his wrist and rip him off of you, overwhelmed with the bliss from your orgasm rippling through every bone in your body. He’s still moving inside of you— albeit at a snail's pace— but it’s enough for him to prolong the pleasure simmering in your veins.

Finally you collapse into his chest, mind numb and eyelids too heavy to keep open, your lips pressing clumsy kisses into his skin. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, his fingers carding through your tresses. “Now, that was cute, Princess,” he says, the amusement in his tone laced with something darker. His fingers curl in your hair, pulling your neck back so your head tilts up to meet his sinister gaze. “But you didn’t get permission to cum, did you?”

Your heart begins to race, your stomach plummeting as he holds your gaze without vigilance. You whine as he pulls out of you, your cunt never feeling this empty before as his hot length disappears. Kirishima picks you up without effort, biceps swelling with intricate swirls of charcoal ink. He places you on wobbling feet before spinning you around, your hands flying out to grab the counter as he shoves your shoulder down.

“That makes you a bad girl, Y/N.”

Horror streaks through your every limb, and yet, only a sinful moan wanders out of you, your feet moving apart and thighs spreading for him to fit between. You crane your head to look at him, drinking up the beautiful man behind you. Broad shoulders trail into a broad, thick chest, tapering down to a tight and powerful waist. Each muscle on his body is prominent and enticing, covered snugly with tan skin that glimmers with a sheen of sweat. His red hair hangs to frame his handsome face, mostly still tugged back into his low ponytail.

As if reading your mind, he moves a hand back and snags the tie off, vibrant locks of scarlet licking the tops of his shoulders. Running a hand over his forehead, he looks at you with a predatory gaze, a smirk curling up one side of his lips. “Y’know what happens to bad girls, right?” You bite your lip and shake your head, egging him on as the top of his cock traces around your opening. “Bad girls get punished.”

The loudest scream of the night rips through you as he thrusts into you without warning, his cock hitting all different kinds of places than before in this new position. Kirishima doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust; he starts slapping his hips against your ass roughly, fist gripping the hair near your scalp again and pulling it tight so your back arches. You cannot breathe, or speak, or think— but somehow his name slips out of your mouth between all the moans.

A harsh slap across your ass sounds, the sting causing your pussy to quiver around his length. “Bad girls don’t get to use my name,” he growls into your ear, leaning over your body to take the tip of your ear between his teeth.

Your eyes are crossed in pleasure, your expression probably comforted into the most lewd, carnal face you’ve ever made. His cock is too big, and you know you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow, but maybe that adds to why it feels so fucking good right now.

“You’re makin’ this seem like a reward, not a punishment, Princess. You like taking it rough, huh?” He teases, pulling your head back by your hair and eliciting another moan from you. “Answer me.”

His cock pounds into your cunt, the sheer stretch enough to make you cum, let alone the length. Your lungs begin to shake as you feel your orgasm building again between your legs. “Yes Sir!” You yelp when his palm cracks against your ass again, your knees wobbly and the pressure continuing to build.

Your reply makes his cock twitch inside of you, and Kirishima sucks in a cool breath of air between clenched teeth. His hand grips the bottom of your thigh, and you cry out when he hikes your knee onto the countertop, cock drilling into you even deeper than before.

Your pussy twitches as you cum instantly, a drawn-out moan vibrating through your throat. Fingernails scraping along the countertop in your gaze of euphoria, Kirishima is forced to halt his assault on your cunt as it squeezes him tightly, his teeth piercing into his lip in pleasure. But as soon as your cunt loosens, he’s fucking into you with renewed vigor, your hips knocking into the counter as he plunges his massive cock into your sloppy heat. “You just don’t fuckin’ learn,” he snarls, wrist twisting to pull your hair tighter, bending your spine to his will.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you choke out, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks. Each thrust brushes your cervix and it hurts, but at the same time the intensity of it all feels incredible. “I didn’t know I could… could cum so q-quick! Please, Sir— ah!— Please forgive me!”

Kirishima tosses his head back at your admission, your apology immediately accepted. His hand slips from your hair to your throat, turning your head so he can see your face as he pounds into you without mercy. The tears slipping down your cheeks make your eyes sparkle and he groans, his own end in near reach and only approaching quicker at the sight of you. “Y’look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart— shit, I know you have one more for me,” he leans in and pokes his tongue out to collect a salty tear, kissing the wet skin on your cheek. His thumb on your throat wanders to your lips, and you take the digit into your mouth with enthusiasm, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You whimper around his finger when his other hand comes around to circle your puffy clit, already overstimulated and thighs shaking. Your legs try to close but he keeps them spread apart, cock still ramming into you as his lips trail down to your neck. His hand on your throat loosens and comes to rest on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and tracing his slippery thumb over your puckered hole. Your eyes widen with shock, and you force your voice to work even though it comes out scratchy and breathless. “W-What are you— Kiri wait, that’s—”

“Have you ever had anything in here, Princess?” He inquires as his thumb slips into you, making you shriek at the fiery stretch. Pushing the digit into your ass, he moans at the sight of you sucking in his thumb so obediently, your hole trembling and squeezing round his finger.

You shake your head, at a loss for words once again. You can feel his cock rub against his finger through your walls, and though it’s a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, it’s far from unwelcome. More tears of pure pleasure descend from your lashes, the combination of all his stimulation driving you insane. You can feel your climax building with every thrust, your walls dragging along his cock and his finger, his other hand rolling your clit.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me, it’s alright,” he purrs, balls feeling tight with his near release. His fingers pinch and rub all over your slick clit, and you mewl out as that familiar pressure heightens in your stomach. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Show me how good you are, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t allow you a second to think, and you whine out for him when his hips crash against your ass, shoving his entire cock inside your soaked hole and spreading your aching walls. The spot he’s hitting with the head of his cock causes your eyes to cross— you didn’t even know it existed before now— and suddenly everything is too much, and you’re crying out his name as your orgasm tears through you.

Kirishima gives a few more hard thrusts before he’s there too, the tips of his teeth piercing into your neck as he floods your pussy with his heavy load. Your cunt pulses around him, milking out every drop he has to offer as you’re thrown into waves of complete euphoria. Eyes closed, toes and fingers coiled tight in pleasure, you whimper as he gives your clit a few more rubs before his hand moves up to push his hair back. “Good girl,” he praises, hot palms sliding along your curves and rubbing circles into your skin.

You’re totally spent; body limp atop the countertop, nipples hard and hot against the cool plastic, tears drying on your cheeks, ass feeling warm and fuzzy, and pussy trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. Kirishima is careful when he pulls out, and you can’t even find the energy to make a noise of complaint at the emptiness between your legs. You can feel his release begin to dribble out of your abused hole, and your body twitches when he presses his thumb in to shove his seed back inside.

He sighs as he grabs a paper towel from the sink behind him, dragging it along his weeping, yet still impressive, length. As you’re still catching your breath, he walks around the counter and into your field of vision, tucking himself back into his pants nonchalantly. When he reaches the door, he flips the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’ before sauntering over to you, eyes trained on yours. “Well, sweetheart,” he chuckles, gaze raking over your exhausted form, still collapsed on top of the counter in a sedated-like state. He reaches forward, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he smiles brightly, but a shadow of something more ominous lingers in those scarlet eyes. “You’re gonna have to cover Yuki’s shifts more often.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

soooo that happened. finally some dom kiri on my blog!!! please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima smut #bnha smut #mha smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #kirishima eijirou fic #kirishima fic #bnha fic #mha fic #my fics

[princesssarisa]

Snow White Winter: "Snow White" (1995 Jetlag Productions animation)

In the '90s, Jetlag Productions was probably second only to Golden Films as the most prolific producer of "mockbusters," made to cash in on the success of Disney and other big name animation studios. While I never actually watched their films as a child, I remember seeing the VHS covers of their versions of Alice in Wonderland, Pocahontas, and others on the shelves of Blockbuster Video. When I recently watched their Cinderella, I found it surprisingly good, although far from Hollywood quality, so I've looked forward to seeing their version of Snow White too.

After watching this forty-five minute Snow White, it was no surprise for me to learn that besides their mockbusters, Jetlag also produced The New Adventures of He-Man. Visually, this production bears less resemblance to Disney's Snow White than to a high fantasy-adventure cartoon from the '80s or early '90s, such as He-Man, She-Ra or The Legend of Prince Valiant. Snow White, in her flowing pink and lavender dress and with her long waves of hair, is much more of a classic medieval beauty than Disney's 1930s China doll (she looks more like a recolored Odette from The Swan Princess), while the wicked Queen looks genuinely pretty and not overtly villainous in her deep red gown, though her actions reveal her villainy soon enough.

The plot closely follows the familiar tale, but with some room for creativity here and there. A voiceover narrator reveals that after the Queen became the kingdom's ruler following the death of Snow White's father, she oppressed the people, taxing them in order to spend their money on beauty treatments. She has a large collection of mirrors, and when she speaks to the magic one, her chant is possibly the most elaborate in any Snow White adaptation: "Magic Mirror, tell me, do/Tell your mistress, tell her true/Answer me, obey my call/Who's the loveliest of all?" She also interacts with the Prince around the middle of the story. As Snow White is running through the forest after the Huntsman spares her life (with every tree seeming to turn into a monster – the one sequence this version blatantly borrows from Disney), she bumps into the Prince, who is hunting in the woods. Though he only sees her for a moment, the Prince falls in love at first sight and resolves to find her. Having heard of the Queen's beautiful stepdaughter, he visits the castle to enquire, but the Queen, disgruntled that she herself isn't the Prince's object of admiration, sends him away with the half-truth that Snow White was lost in the forest and is presumed dead.

The seven dwarfs are identical brothers named Sunbeam, Toadstool, Fawn, Hedgehog, Robin, Cricket and Tadpole – Snow White has trouble telling them apart, and they sometimes can't tell each other apart either. Snow White lives happily with them in their pretty cottage covered in climbing roses, until the Queen finds her and makes her three attempts on her life, each time in a different magical disguise. First she appears as an old peddler woman and tries to strangle Snow White with a brooch's lace band, then she appears as an old man with a poisoned comb, and finally as a little girl selling apples. When the Prince discovers Snow White's glass coffin, he begs the dwarfs to let him take her home to his castle and try to find someone who can revive her. But of course this proves happily unnecessary, as when his two servants lift Snow White from the coffin, the piece of apple falls from her mouth. As for the Queen, her ending is a variation on the ever-popular "she breaks her mirror in anger at Snow White's survival and its magic backfires on her," but in a way that also recalls her fate in the Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child version. Here she smashes her entire mirror collection in her rage, but when she tries to smash the magic one, its glass turns into a portal that magically drags her through the frame, trapping her inside the mirror forever.

While this isn't a full-fledged musical, it features three songs: "We All Have Love to Give", sung over the opening credits, "Hip Hip Hooray," sung by the dwarfs as they work in their mine, and "I've Found My Happy Ending in You," sung over the closing credits.

As with Jetlag's Cinderella, while this isn't the most sophisticated production, it's still enjoyable. The animation might be "Saturday morning" in quality, but all the same it has charm. And while it does feature some mockable elements, like the dwarfs' annoying voices or the Prince's melodramatic pining over a girl he saw for less than a minute (he even declares that if Snow White is truly dead, then he'll die too!), as a whole I'd say the story is well told.

One interesting element of this Snow White is that the mostly Canadian voice cast features several notable voice actors from the My Little Pony franchise. Snow White herself is voiced by Venus Terzo, who voiced Rainbow Dash in Generation 3, and a few others went on to be heard in the pop culture phenomenon that was My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Kathleen Barr (the Great and Powerful Trixie and Queen Chrysalis) voices the wicked Queen, while Andrea Libman (Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy) voices the little girl she becomes to give Snow White the poisoned apple.

I wouldn't call this an essential Snow White, but for a child it would be a decent introduction to the tale. Overall, it's a solid middle-of-the-road animated version.

@superkingofpriderock, @ariel-seagull-wings

#snow white #snow white winter #fairy tale #jetlag productions #goodtimes entertainment #1995 #animated film #mockbuster #animation

[bffsoobin]

Apartment 370

↳everything about your apartment was perfect. Aside from your neighbor. Choi Soobin has become the bane of your existence. You can’t go a single day without looking over your shoulder for your misleadingly handsome neighbor. Just how many petty pranks does he think he can get away with?

➤ enemies to lovers!au, neighbors!au, arguments, petty behavior, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,062

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none really other than swearing and Soobin kind of being an ass. I also didn’t proof read or edit this, as per usual.

A/N: To be honest I’m feeling a little unsure about this? I loved the concept and I’m very glad that a lovely follower requested it but I feel like lately all of my writing has started out really well and then just got progressively worse? Like all of the endings I write are just kind of lame? Just a weird insecurity I’ve been encountering lately. So please leave me some feedback on what you think about this!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You loved your apartment. It was small, but just right for you to live in. The shower had hot water, your bedroom had a beautiful window for your plants to sit on and the wifi connection was always working well. You even only had to travel up two flights of stairs if your elevator stopped working. There were a lot of pros to living at your complex. But there was one, massive, glaring and obnoxiously loud con. Choi Soobin. When he had moved in next to you, you tried to be nice. You knocked on his door and introduced yourself; making some kind of lame joke about borrowing sugar. 

He didn’t laugh. He just introduced himself back and apologized for not having any sugar. Apologized? Had he really missed the joke that bad? Your delivery had been impeccable. Despite his charming face and annoyingly adorable style, you decided there was no way you could be friends with someone who didn’t understand a classic joke. 

Soobin must have decided there was a reason he didn’t like you either, because just about a week into being neighbors he began to wreak havoc. He played music as loud as it possibly could be at the weirdest times of the day and yelled at his television way too much no matter what he was watching. It seemed like every day you had to storm over and knock on his door to complain. This went on for weeks until he finally agreed to stop when you threatened to involve your burly landlord in the matter. 

For a few days, you enjoyed peace and quiet. You came and went from work without seeing him, took naps in silence and remembered how it felt to cook in your own kitchen without the sound of a twenty something year old man screaming at reruns of Survivor as background music. 

As they say, ignorance is bliss, because little did you know Soobin’s silence was about to erupt into a new, massive volcano of stupidity. One night you woke up around 4 am to the sound of scratching coming from the wall that connected your and Soobin’s bedrooms. You were already annoyed at the fact that you had to be up at 7am to pick up an early shift for your slacking coworker, so you didn’t have it in you to just roll over and go back to bed. You couldn’t have if you wanted to anyway because the scratching noises were only getting more and more persistent. You flung yourself out of bed with a groan. Pets were allowed here, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Soobin had gotten a cat who decided to be a little extra scratchy. 

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen, hoping to clear your mind and sort your thoughts. In the silence of the night, you could hear Soobin’s panicked voice through the thin walls. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, as you could hear pauses as if he were listening to someone else. What a weird fucking dude, you thought. With eyes still drooping you walked back to your bedroom. The cat would have to be done scratching at the wall by now, right?

Wrong. The same consistent noise that would surely haunt your dreams still persisted. Knowing Soobin was awake gave you enough grounds to throw on a sweatshirt over your sleep clothes and go knock on his door. 

When it swung open, you could see just how distraught he was. His usually fluffy hair was flat and knotted and his eyes were sporting huge dark circles that only made the panic in them amplified. Wait, panic?  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry but you need to leave,” he had the door open just far enough to stick his head and shoulders out, as if he were trying to hide something. 

“No, Soobin. I heard your cat scratching at the wall and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I can’t sleep. Can’t you lock it in the bathroom or something?” His face scrunched in confusion. 

“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” Your insides boiled with hatred at the idea of him trying to lie his way out of this. 

“Listen up Choi. Unless you have a dragon in your bedroom scratching the shit out of the walls, I don’t want to deal with your lies. Just take care of it! I need my beauty sleep and you and your noisy cat aren’t helping at all.” Soobin’s face paled and for a second you thought that you had finally won. And then Soobin said:

“It’s not a cat. It’s a racoon.” 

You almost fell onto your ass right in the hallway. Soobin’s eyes sparked with a type of mirth you never thought such an admittedly gorgeous face could possess. 

“I’m calling the landlord.” You snapped the door shut in his face and turned away.

That had apparently been the final straw for Soobin. The next day when you got back from work, you found a handwritten “RACOON HATER” sign taped to your door. What you found inside was somehow even more unsettling. Your whole living room and kitchen had been essentially trashed. Throw pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor, many of your photos and art you had on the walls were switched around or taken down altogether. And the worst of it all; everything was covered in a fine dust of glitter. It was a struggle to find a single surface that wasn’t covered in glitter, really. 

A new type of dislike for Choi Soobin brewed in your stomach. Hatred. Your kitchen counter- also covered in a dust of chunky silver glitter- became the victim of your frustrations as you slammed your hands down. It would cost you so much time and money to get all the glitter out of your living spaces, let alone the fact that you'd inevitably be leaving some behind for the next poor soul to rent this apartment. Gritting your teeth, you went to work with your poor little vacuum. 

You had only managed to clean your coffee table and half of your couch before you heard a series of loud knocks on your door. You grumbled at the idea of having to take a pause in your work but you trudged over to the door anyway. 

To be honest, you had no idea who you were expecting to see behind your apartment door-which you belatedly realized was still decorated with Soobin’s handmade sign- but you didn’t think it would be the man himself. 

Soobin stood in the hallway, picture perfect as always. His face was tan and smooth and free from any possible blemishes. Had he plucked his eyebrows? They were groomed to neat perfection. His tall frame was dwarfed by a fuzzy blue sweatshirt that was easily a size too big. If you had met him by chance on the street, you would have fallen in love in an instant. But you knew better. You knew he was the one who reduced your once lovely apartment into the mess it was now.

“Oh, sorry,” he feigned innocence, “are you busy?” He didn’t even try to hide the smirk that blossomed on his face. A grumble of a curse fell from your lips before you responded. 

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to break into my apartment and spread glitter on everything. So yes, I’m sort of busy,” you laced your voice with enough venom to kill a horse, and it seemed as if Soobin had gotten the message as he shrunk back into the hallway a bit. His mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he struggled to find the perfect retort. 

“I-” he cut himself off as his soft eyes became hyper focused on a spot on your face. Suddenly you were a new combination of concerned and offended. His hand hesitantly rose toward your face before the softness of his fingertips made contact with your cheek and brushed something away. You held your breath the entire time, unsure if you should be upset or worried or utterly lost in the way his skin felt against yours. The contact was brief but still made your skin burn bright red. When his hand left your cheek, you saw that he had brushed away a piece of glitter that was now resting delicately on his fingertip. 

“Sorry,” he hurried out, “I just wanted to get the glitter off of your face.” His whole demeanor had changed, and you were sure that whatever plan he had in mind when he knocked on your door had vanished. 

“Okay, weirdo,” you tried to ignore the way you were yearning to feel his touch again, “I’m still busy so can you like, go away?” Upon hearing your words he turned away to head for his apartment door with ears as red as you’d ever seen them. 

Although the glitter incident was now months behind you, you still often found pieces in random spots around your home. And Soobin was still a pain in your ass. He had been quiet for close to two weeks after your odd encounter and you were almost convinced that he had changed his ways. You were quickly proven wrong when he conned the man who works the front desk into hiding your mail for a week straight; making you subsequently late to paying some of your bills. 

More recently, a new person had moved into the apartment across the way. The first day you met him, you were busying yourself with taping up Soobin’s door with bright pink duct tape from the outside. Your new neighbor-who you learned to be named Yeonjun- had squatted down right next to you and offered to help tear pieces of the tape. 

You and Yeonjun had become fast friends. He was incredibly charming and willing to lend an ear every time you needed to complain about Soobin. For a while, you were almost able to forget the fact that the devil incarnate lived next door to you. While your work schedules tended to be a little crazy, the two of you managed to talk for at least a few minutes every day. He helped you gain some sanity back within your apartment hallway. 

Despite also being friends with Soobin, Yeonjun never took sides in your little feud; but you were always secretly worried that somehow Soobin would put a bug in his ear. One day, about two months after Yeonjun had moved in, he knocked on your door while you were in the middle of making dinner. You invited him in but he hesitated. 

“I just came to talk to you,” he bit into his bottom lip, “I really like you. But I don’t see us ever being more than friends. I hope you understand.” You scrunched your eyebrows. Where was this coming from? 

“Uh okay? I know that. I don’t like you...like that, Yeonjun. Did you hit your head or something?” You were seriously confused. Yeonjun’s eyes widened comically. 

“Well Soobin said that-“ as soon as the words fell out of his mouth Yeonjun put together the invisible puzzle pieces. His face morphed into extreme regret.  “I’m so sorry. I should have known it was part of your weird prank war. You should have seen how convincing his acting is though, he really had me thinking you had a crush on me.” You scoffed at the idea of Soobin beginning to spread rumors to one of your closest friends just for the hell of it. If Yeonjun hadn’t been mature enough to address it right away, you could have gone through weeks of confusion about why he was avoiding you.

You looked back at your kitchen, catching sight of the steaming bowl of ramen you’d just finished making. Sighing, you shut your door behind you to stand in the hall with Yeonjun. He looked sheepish in your presence as you laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m not mad at you, Yeonjun. I’m going to talk to the bane of my existence,” you gestured toward the door with the shiny ‘370’ plaque. “Just don’t bother calling the landlord if you hear yelling.” As soon as you heard the sound of Yeonjun’s door snapping shut, you laid into Soobin’s door with a heavy knock. As soon as it was opened far enough, you wedged your body inside and subsequently sent Soobin stumbling backwards. 

“How dare you?” You roared, throwing your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m fine with your petty pranks and all the other stupid shit you pull against me because that’s all between the two of us. At least it’s funny and gives me something to think about in my free time. But when you start to involve my friends? That’s way too far. There was no reason to rope Yeonjun into this. He’s your friend too, Choi.” Soobin seemed surprised that you had come in with so much to say right off the bat.

“Y/N it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to see if you actually had the capacity to have a crush on someone. And you’ve been spending so much time with Yeonjun I figured he’d be the perfect person to test my theory with, plus the humiliation factor of him not liking you back would have kept me entertained for days” he sat down on his couch casually, “I guess he had to break it to you that you aren’t as flirty and irresistible as you think you are, huh?” The air crackled with tension as you gawked down at his sprawled form.

“What are you even saying? Yeonjun and I are just friends. And why does it matter to you if I have the capacity for a crush or not? You hate me. If you’re just waiting until I get a boyfriend so that you can come in and ruin it all with your shitty vendetta then you’re much worse of a person than I ever pegged you for!” Tears welled in your eyes but you wiped at them angrily. Out of all the fights and disagreements you’d ever had with Soobin, this was the first one that stirred an odd emotion in the pit of your stomach. You were tired of the back and forth. Soobin seemed oddly alarmed at the formation of your tears as he got up from the comfort of his couch and approached you like a wounded dog. 

“Trust me, I have no grand plan to ruin your life at every turn even though that’s what you think. You spend so much time with Yeonjun, I thought maybe you liked him. I knew he didn’t like you because when I told him that I-” Soobin actually clapped his own giant hand over his mouth as the words hung in the air between you. Anger shot through your mind at the idea that he didn’t even have the guts to relay the entire story. 

“You what? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world but you can’t even finish telling me what you said to someone else? I can’t believe you, honestly,” you turned and made your way toward his door, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower. Soobin’s hand clasped around your wrist as he gently yanked you away from the exit. His strong grip kept you standing right in front of him and although you struggled against him, there was no use. 

“I told him that I like you.” For a second, you thought that you had misheard him, but he continued. “I told Yeonjun that I like you. And he told me that I should go for it, because he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. But I freaked out so I told him that you liked him. I knew you probably actually didn’t.” 

Your brain was short circuiting at the confession. Choi Soobin, who had complicated your life beyond belief since the day he moved in months ago liked you? 

“But,” your eyebrows drew together as you tried to comprehend it all, “you hate me, Soobin. We have a whole...rivalry! There’s no way you actually have feelings for me. I swear if this is just another prank I’ll shove my hand so far down your throat-“ Soobin threw his hands up in front of his body in a form of defense. 

“No! I don’t hate you, Y/N. I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just thought the pranks and petty stuff was like...our way of hanging out? That’s why I kept doing them. I thought you were having fun with me.” It was ridiculous how much he sounded like a little boy explaining his side of the story to a teacher. It was even more ridiculous that the corner of your brain where you’d stuffed all your feelings for Soobin began to overflow. 

“Haven’t you ever heard that there’s much better ways to tell someone you like them? We could have spent the last 11 months not at each other’s throats if you would have just manned up and found out I like you too.” You saw the exact moment that the words finally processed and his entire face lit up with the recognition. 

A familiar, deeply dimpled smile grew across his face as his skin reddened. He clasped his hands in front of him and swayed back and forth on his feet. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in close enough that you worried he could hear your heart thumping against your ribs. 

“You like me too?” 

“Yes, Soobin. I like you too. And I would like you even more if you stopped your stupid pranks,” you tapped his nose with your pointer finger twice. He nodded eagerly with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth slightly.

“Deal,” he stuck his hand out to you and you raised an eyebrow to silently ask if he was serious. His hand didn’t waver, so you grasped it firmly and pulled him toward your body until you could wrap him into a tight hug. It was an odd feeling, soaking in Soobin’s scent as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth in his apartment. Odd, but good. Perfect.

#soobin #thesoobinnetwork #txtwritersnetwork #soobin imagine #soobin imagines #soobin angst #soobin fluff #soobin scenarios #soobin scenario #soobin reaction #soobin reactions #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin fanfic #soobin fic #txt #txt fluff #txt angst #txt imagine #txt imagines #txt reaction #txt reactions #txt scenario #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fic #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios

[gukeobi]

home is where the heart is

pairing: werewolf!jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst (jeongguk really wants pups 😔)

words: 1.5k 

an: i finally finished the last of my finals!! im so glad to be back to writing again and hope this tiny nb drabble makes up for my absence lol 

----------

The sun was warm on your skin as it blazed from above, the absence of the shaded treeline you had grown used to in the time that has passed proved itself a bigger nuisance that you had initially anticipated. It left your already thin shirt sticking uncomfortably against the growing dampness coating your flesh, the obnoxious heat of the body currently crowded around you not doing much to help combat the discomfort. 

“Guk,” you whispered, threading your fingers through the sweaty tresses of his midnight hair. The man in question hummed lowly against your throat in response to your sudden acknowledgement, continuing his combination of biting and kissing at the exposed skin as the taste of salt clouded his senses. “we have to get back to work.” 

Despite your words you tilted your head to give the lycan more room to venture, the occasional feeling of his extended incisors peeking past the softness of his lips and scraping the sensitive expanse of your throat making you shiver in delight. You knew the both of you were only wasting time by getting inadvertently sidetracked -- the unfinished structure behind you proving that statement true -- though once he started, it was difficult to break free from his intoxicating and comforting hold. 

Tightening your fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, you pulled him away from your bruised flesh, albeit reluctantly on both of your parts, ignoring the whines of dissatisfaction and protest coming from his mouth as you pulled him up to view. You could finally see the dazed look shrouding the glowing red hue of his lidded eyes and the thin sheen of sweat coating his flushed face, a soft pout tugging at the seams of his lips that tugged at your heart almost painfully. 

“Mmm,” Jeongguk responded quietly, closing his eyes once again as he captured your mouth with his. It was a distraction tactic, you knew it was, but that didn’t stop you from giving into his advances for your own selfish desire. “Just a bit longer, y/n.” 

“You said that five minutes ago,” you chuckled against him, a soft smile working its way onto your face as you attempted to reason with the lycan.  “If we keep taking breaks, we’ll never finish on time.” 

Jeongguk’s face dropped as he took in your words, his hands moving to rest on your hips as he leaned into the warmth of your palm cupping his cheek gently. He knew you were right, the two of you have been working on this project for far too long because of his tendency to get distracted by the feeling of your skin beneath his claws and the taste of your skin on his tongue, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you and the pleasant lingering feeling it left behind. 

“I know.” the lycan responded, closing his eyes briefly at the feeling of your thumb stroking the slightly sunken skin of the scar that was there. It made his stomach feel fluttery, an overwhelming feeling of love and adoration filling his chest as he gazed at you smiling back at him. “You know i can’t help it.”

With a sigh you moved to run your hand down Jeongguk’s back soothingly, the exposed flesh soft beneath your touch as your fingers dipped with his flexed shoulder blades before traveling to the curve of his lower back. His head dropped into the crook of your neck in response, sighs of pleasure leaving his lips before it shifted to the gentle caress of lips on the raised scar marring your skin. 

 Mating season was fastly approaching, the months shifting from the sweltering warmth of summer to the frigid embrace of winter quicker than you had time to prepare for. In the years before, you and Jeongguk would spend the entire duration in the pack house without much consequence or disturbance, but this year, after many long conversations both in the depths of night and under the early morning sky, plans have changed. 

The home both of you were currently building was placed near the shoreline of the lake Jeongguk used to take you to every morning at the beginnings of your relationship, relatively secluded for the sake of your privacy but not too far from the pack house or your cabin. It was going to be for the both of you, for your future family. 

Although you weren’t surprised by his desire to conceive pups, something he had no issue with expressing to you in the heat of the moment, what startled you the most was the gentle hand he’d rest on your stomach each night and the longing looks to other pack’s young on the rare occasion you would visit for territorial and alliance discussions. 

It terrified you more than you like to admit. 

The feeling of Jeongguk’s hand creeping beneath your shirt brought you out of your thoughts, a wide palm resting just below your navel and rubbing the soft skin there gently. It was somehow comforting and wrong at the same time, the implications of such a miniscule action making you shift in uneasiness. 

“Come on, Guk,” you whispered with a small smile, wrapping your hand around his wrist to tug it back from where it managed to snake itself under your clothes. “back to work, my love.” 

With a soft groan Jeongguk complied, pulling back enough to let you hop down from where you were previously seated on what will eventually be the porch of your future home. The warmth of his palms was welcomed as he held your hands in his own much larger ones, a wide smile tugging at his cheeks as he tugged you forward to walk with him. 

“What would I do without you, my little wolf?” Jeongguk beamed, a playful tone coating his words. He was still walking backwards and pulling you forward by the grip on your hands, the softness of the overgrown fauna brushing at your bare ankles and making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. 

His hair was slightly overgrown and falling into his eyes, muscles shining with sweat underneath the afternoon sun and rippling with each movement as he gazed at you with so much love you weren’t even sure this was real, if he was real. 

You never knew it was possible to love someone as much as you did Jeongguk. 

----- 

With the sun finally setting back into the horizon it was significantly more cool than it was earlier, a gentle breeze traveling past you and making the flora you were currently lying in sway and tickle against your exposed skin. The sky above you was currently painted a quiet shade of pink and blue, the pastels bleeding into each other until they blended at the seams. 

You could hear the scurry of tiny animals behind you as they sought cover in the forest, the crunch of fallen leaves and quickly approaching heavy breathing the only real disturbance in the quickly fading night. What welcomed you was a cold, wet touch on your cheek, a large mass of black entering your vision as the wolf rubbed his face against yours in greeting. 

Jeongguk had left into the forest a few hours prior to cool off and blow off some steam, his movements lethargic and slow all day while he worked as his body was not designed to handle such high temperatures. You imagined he felt much better under the brisk night cover, the wind rustling his inky coat and his body less weighed down than it was before. 

“Hey,” you spoke quietly, lifting a hand to comb through the fur of what would be his cheek, slightly cold to the touch. The wolf pushed his head further into your touch in response, a low rumble sounding deep in his chest as he moved to rest his forehead against yours briefly. 

You watched with lidded eyes as the lycan shifted to lay partially on top of you, the weight heavy and nearly winding you in the process before it settled into a comfortable blanket of warmth. Jeongguk’s large head was resting on your stomach, snout pressed in the space between your breasts as he stared at you with lidded red eyes. 

“Feel better?” The wolf huffed in response to your question, closing his eyes and relaxing as the soft fur of his tail brushed against your hoodie covered arm. Your hand was dwarfed impressively in comparison to his frame, fingers getting lost in the inky darkness of the fur on his back as you pet him gently. 

Jeongguk let out one last long sigh before nestling further into you, content enough as the cool night sky brushed through his coat. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind as he nuzzled your stomach, a whine getting caught in his throat as he attempted to suppress the feeling of disappointment he could sense was beginning to brew in his chest. 

If he concentrates hard enough, he almost believes he can hear the gentle heartbeat of his pups growing inside of you. 

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook drabble #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #im back luvs #did you miss me? #i really wished i could have come back at a better time #with everything happening #i hope everyone is staying safe and being on the right side of history right now

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (44) || atz

“I still can’t believe they want to parley.” Yunho whispers to you in shock, standing next to you on the main deck as you watch the little rowboat grow closer and closer to you, bobbing on the surface of the deep blue sea. There’s a growing sense of trepidation in you as you watch it draw nearer, Mingi ordering a group of men to lower ropes into the water to pull the rowboat up.

From the bulwarks, you can see six people on the rowboat, a sign of neutrality and peace, Yunho had told you. Worried by how Yeosang might react to seeing his father, Hongjoong had sent the navigator to the galley and told him to stay there until someone called him up. Wooyoung had… well, gone with him. Your captain didn’t tell you why, but curious as you were, you had sort of resigned yourself to the fact that you would never know.

“You have to eat Wooyoung’s shoe now, you know?” You mumble out of the corner of your mouth, trying to distract yourself from the terror you feel. Yunho swallows nervously, eyes fixed on the rowboat as it stops next to the Treasure.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

“...You also have to eat your own shoe.”

“I don’t recall any of that.”

“And you have to admit the mizzenmast is better.” You end off, fingers wrapping around his wrist. You’re shaking from nerves, but you don’t have to say it, Yunho can feel it in the way your hand is as clammy a dead fish around his.

You know Seonghwa is somewhere in the rigging with a loaded musket, ready to blow a hole in the head of any troublemaker, that the crew of the Treasure outnumber the people on the boat by several times, but part of you is still worried, a sinking feeling in your chest that borders on sheer paranoia.

“We should just kill them as soon as they step onto the ship.” Mingi mutters as he strides over to all of you, Hongjoong’s expression carefully smoothed into a neutral mask in preparation to meet the man in charge. From what Yunho has told you, the enemy captain is likely to be Commander Kang Yongsun, a prominent captain of the Royal Navy’s pirate hunter force, someone who specialises in hunting down pirates in exchange for monetary rewards offered by the Crown.

He’s also Yeosang’s biological father.

Your captain sighs, gripping his cutlass tight. “They did put up a parley flag, though.”

Snorting, the quartermaster jabs a thumb at the Black Crow floating just far off enough to not be considered a threat, its jet black shape looming against the bright blue sky like a blot of ink on paper. “Has the Royal Navy ever not want to kill us?”

“That was what I thought.” Yunho mumbles uneasily, his spear in hand as he fidgets with the shaft. Your own hand rests on the hilt of your cutlass, adrenaline already buzzing in your veins as you anticipate the fight that might probably come.

“They’re likely to be plotting something. And whatever it is, it’s not going to turn out well for us. It could be a trap. We should just blow them out of the water now. I’m sure Wooyoung could do it easily.” Mingi continues to reason insistently with his captain, probably feeling the same sinking sense of foreboding as you are. But your captain doesn’t respond to his quartermaster’s warnings, instead simply gazing at the rowboat silently with his single green eye.

When he speaks, his voice is solemn.

“I’m aware it could be a trap, Mingi. I’m not a fool. But I doubt the Commander would be foolish enough to come to us without an irrefusable bargain.” Hongjoong says as he looks straight ahead, not looking at any of you. “Besides, they did put up a parley flag, and I’m not going to be the one to break the vow.”

“We did it all the time in the past though.” Mingi reminds his captain softly, his voice reminiscing of those days of long ago that they had been a merciless pirate crew, from the stories he had told you about the last time. Your eyes widen. They had ignored the white flag? Preyed on ships that had been on the verge of surrender? Destroyed vessels that had put up the universal symbol of parley, massacring entire crews without mercy?

Yunho stiffens next to you, obviously remembering their sordid past as nothing more than despicable law breakers, and you feel your heart sinking. Exactly what kind of people had the crew of the Treasure been before you had come to the ship?

You glance at your captain for a moment, wondering how he would look like with a sadistic smirk in place of his usual, soft smile, whether his viridescent eye would gleam poisonously with corrosive venom instead of burning with the eager desire to live out his life like a blazing inferno that you know.

The thought scares you more than you dare to admit.

But now, there’s a contrite, almost sorrowful expression on his face, his green eye unfocused and lost in the past for a moment, and deep inside you, you feel your heart twist in sympathy for the man who has too many regrets to count.

“We’ve changed our ways.” Hongjoong finally answers honestly, watching as his crew work to haul the rowboat up the side of the ship. Yunho and Mingi remain silent in their guilt, but you can see their captain’s words lifting a burden they never knew they had off their chests. “We’re different now.”

The rowboat reaches the bulwarks on the port side and six people step out of the small watercraft.

With those final words, your captain steps forward to meet the infamous Commander Kang.

Your first impression of the commander is one of intimidation.

Kang Yongsun is not at all a tall man, in fact, he’s dwarfed in size by some of your taller crew mates on the Treasure. He’s lithe, slimly built with nothing too daunting about his stature, but the first time he looks upon you, even if it is merely a sweeping glance over the ship, sends a chill running down your spine.

You can, without a doubt, see Yeosang in him physically. They have the same razor sharp jawline and facial structure, similar noses, identical soft lips, but that’s where the resemblance ends. For all the similar features they share, their eyes are completely different. Not so much in the physical appearance of it, the deep brown hue of their gazes are nearly identical, but Yeosang’s eyes are infinitely kinder, softer, something that you can’t help feel grateful for.

Kang Yongsun’s eyes are as piercing as those of a bird of prey, staring down his next victim with a silent, lethal confidence that you have no wish to fall prey to. Even though he’s surrounded by hostile crew mates, all brandishing all manner of weapons at him, he doesn’t seem to be the least bothered by it, and perhaps that’s what scares you the most of all.

His escorts surround him immediately as soon as they step on board, cutlasses in hand and at the ready in case of any threat. One of them though, doesn’t seem to be wearing the same uniform as the rest of them do, a hood pulled low over his eyes, hiding his face in shadow. Instead of the customary cutlass that most seafaring men carry, there’s a massive longsword in his hands that looks like it could do some serious damage.

Your captain steps forward to meet him, Mingi and Jongho flanking him. The younger battlemaster is hefting a heavy iron bar mace over his shoulder, while Mingi holds onto his double sided battle axe, the edge glinting cruelly in the sunlight. Your captain hasn’t drawn any weapons, but his hand rests on the handle of his musket, ready to fire at the first sign of any danger.

“Kang Yongsun, captain of the Black Crow and vice-commander of the Royal Navy’s Red Rose pirate hunter fleet in service of her Majesty the Queen and the Crown. State your name, pirate.” One of his guards spits haughtily, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually speaking to what society considers the vermin of the seas. Mingi scowls, grip tightening on his weapon, but Jongho lays a hand on the quartermaster’s shoulder, a silent request for him to keep his cool.

Your captain merely sighs in exasperation, completely unruffled by the man’s imperious tone. “Kim Hongjoong, captain of the Treasure. What is your business with us?”

The guard who had addressed your captain earlier scowls furiously, beginning to brandish his cutlass at your captain. “You impertinent scum, speak with respect when addressing the vice-commander-”

But before he can get any further, there’s a razor sharp blade resting against his neck.

“Don’t test my patience.” Mingi growls, his deep voice a rumble in his chest that sends a frightened shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen a bear before except in books that San has showed you, but if you had to imagine one’s snarl, it would be something akin to Mingi’s voice now. He holds the weighty axe with so much ease it almost deceives you into thinking it weighs nothing more than a toothpick, but from experience you know that you can barely lift it with both hands, let alone hold it steady like Mingi is now.

The man squeaks in fear, pupils dilated as he eyes the blade so dangerously close to his neck. One second of tense silence passes, then another, then-

“Rumil, stand down.” The commander says smoothly, and the guard, though quivering in both terror and rage, sheathes his weapon. Hongjoong then turns around to speak quietly to Mingi, and with great reluctance, the quartermaster lowers his axe as well, although his eyes never leave the vice-commander. The man turns to look at your captain with cold, carefully neutral eyes.

His next words shock you out of your mind.

“Captain Kim, I have come to offer you a deal.”

You have to give it to your captain for not reacting in the least, because Yunho’s jaw practically smashes into the deck next to you. There’s the moment of stunned shock, the crew barely able to believe what has just left the commander’s mouth.

A deal? The Royal Navy wants to make a deal with pirates?

Maybe you haven’t heard them correctly, because you can’t have heard them correctly.

Your captain holds up a single hand in the air and the entire deck falls silent in response, waiting for their leader to speak. Hongjoong meets the commander’s steely gaze with a skeptical one of his own.

“Why would the Royal Navy want to make a deal with us?” It’s small, almost completely undetectable, but you can hear the tiny note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

“We need several things that are currently in your possession.” The commander states simply, as if the two of them are not mortal enemies who’ve been at loggerheads with each other since the very beginning. You can see Hongjoong stiffen slightly and you flinch, from Yeosang’s memories, he must be talking about the navigational charts that Hongjoong took from him.

But your captain keeps his cool, folding his arms as he looks at the commander seriously. “And what would you offer us, commander, in exchange for what you want? Our freedom?”

At his jibing words, the deck erupts into nervous, derisive laughter. You almost want to follow, but you’re too tense to do so. Even then, you recognise the absurdity of your captain’s words, there’s simply no way the Royal Navy would offer the most wanted pirate crew a pardon from all the crimes that they’ve already committed. You may not know the full extent of what they’ve done in the past, but your captain is the Pirate King of the Caribbean for a reason.

“That’s ridiculous.” You hear Yunho mutter under his breath and you can’t help but nod in response. “As if the Royal Navy would ever-”

“Exactly.” Commander Kang answers calmly.

For the second time that day, you feel like you’ve gotten slapped in the face with a dead pollack.

What.

The entire crew hushes in a split second, clearly as shocked as you are. The silence rushes through everyone on board, plunging the deck into eerie silence as that one, single word sinks into all of their minds.

Freedom?

Briefly, you imagine a peaceful life for them. Yeosang as a bookkeeper in an archive, being able to read all the books he desires to, gaining the knowledge he’s so hungry for, Yunho finally being able to put down his spear, never having to fight another day in his life ever again. Your master opening a small apothecary, venturing into the forest every morning with Shiber at his heels to search for rare herbs and plants, bringing back the occasional spice for Seonghwa, who’s opened his very own eatery and comes up with creative new dishes for Hwaseong to try every week.

You dream of Jongho being the fisherman he’s always wanted to be, taking after his father’s footsteps and sailing the sea in a tiny boat, humming to himself as he casts his nets. Hongjoong sitting on a beach, overlooking the sea as he writes tales of his times as the legendary Pirate King, Mingi pointing out his spelling errors and inaccuracies as Wooyoung comes up to the two of them with cups of hot tea in his hands and a bright grin on his face, his wrists finally free of the shackles that have bound him for so long.

For a moment, that yearning is so powerful, so strong, that you would give almost anything to let  them have that life. One of happiness, joy and peace, free from bloodshed and battles and running from the Navy. If anyone deserves it, you think, it’s them.

Next to you, you can hear Yunho’s sudden intake of breath. He must be as shocked as you are, because his spear nearly falls from his grasp as he stares at the commander. Even your captain’s facade seems to have cracked a little down the middle, his one green eye wide with surprise.

But then Hongjoong fights to keep his voice steady, fingers flexing on the handle of his cutlass as he eyes the commander with a dubious gaze. “And you would offer us what sort of freedom, exactly?”

“All previous charges held against you and your crew by the Crown will be completely cleared.” Kang Yongsun speaks without a trace of falsehood in his voice, as if what he’s saying is the complete and utter truth. It’s so silent you could hear a feather fall to the ground, the crew hanging on to his every word even if some part of them doesn’t dare to believe such good news. “As long as all of you do not commit any crimes against the Crown after receiving the pardon, you will be free men even in the territories of her Majesty the Queen.”

If it is possible, Yunho’s jaw crashes even more to the ground. At this point, it could probably break a hole in the deck.

Commander Kang turns to face your captain, whose mouth is hanging slightly agape in shock. “As the captain, her Majesty would like your service as one of her battle strategists against dealing with other piracy problems in the Caribbean waters. You will be paid in full for your work, with the prestige that comes with being a senior officer in the Queen’s own service.”

You almost can’t believe your ears. These words are too good to be true! This deal is almost irrefusable, and even your captain looks like he’s about to be swayed for a moment before he catches himself, rational mind whirring furiously.

“Freedom…” You hear Yunho whisper under his breath and you glance at him, only to see him with the broadest grin ever on his face, his eyes uncontrollably bright. “We’re going to be free people, Chin Hae!”

You can barely find the right frame of mind to answer him, the word freedom echoing over and over in your mind. All of you can be free! Make an honest living with your own hands and establish your own lives, normal lives, as free people, not as fugitives running from the law. But your captain’s word interrupts your train of thought.

“Wait.”

Glancing up, you see your captain’s face suddenly set in suspicion. He must feel like there’s something off, because there’s no way the Commander would offer them such a fair trade if he isn’t about to get something of bigger worth in return. Hongjoong’s jaw clenches as he looks at Commander Kang with slitted eyes.

“What exactly do you want from us, commander?”

Commander Kang shakes his head. “It’s very simple, Captain Kim. All I ask from you are four things; the maps you stole, which in the end you would have to return anyway as it is considered property of the Crown. Another thing I need is the knot around your neck with which contains the sorcery required to cause a hurricane.”

You gasp in shock. How would the commander know about this?

Your captain obviously feels the same way, because his fingers immediately tighten protectively around the short length of rope there. “How did you know of it?”

“Back in Nassau, the Head of Port Investigation, Leon Bastiville reported that his attempt of arresting one Kim Hongjoong and his crew was thwarted when you, the captain, undid a knot that caused a strong wind to blow your ship away from the harbour.”

A shiver goes down your spine at the mention of that man. You remember the heat of his breath as it ghosted over your ear, the coldness of the gun pressed to your temple, the cries of your captain as he had been flogged before your eyes. From the tightening of your captain’s mouth, he obviously remembers it too, one hand reaching up to touch his shoulder unconsciously.

San may have healed the wounds well, but his body recalls the agony of the whipping.

“I didn’t take the Royal Navy for one to believe in superstitions and sorcery.” Mingi hisses, clearly still quite unconvinced that the Royal Navy is here for an honest exchange and the mention of Leon doesn’t make him any friendlier. But Commander Kang turns to him, eyes narrowing.

“My superior commander has studied several ancient literary sources. They all state that the rope in your captain’s possession is a Legendary Treasure of the Sea, spoken about in many historical texts and containing enough power to rival that of a divine being.” Kang Yongsun then turns to look very deliberately at your captain, who is staring down at his rope necklace in shock, as if he can’t quite believe that this simple knot in his possession is capable of such damage. “However, if you do accept this pardon, there would be no need for you to have such a dangerous artefact, so you might as well give it up to me.”

You see your captain swallow. This knot is precious to him, you can tell. It’s his last link to the person who’d saved him so long ago on that deserted island when he’d been abandoned and shot in the eye by his father. But what is he to do? Exchanging it for the freedom of all his crew mates… is it worth it?

“You mentioned another two things.” Hongjoong fights to keep his voice steady, staring down the commander. “What else do you want from me?”

At that, something prickles at the back of your neck, a chill sweeping over you as the hairs on your arms raise uncomfortably. You don’t know how to describe this feeling, but the next best thing you can say is that you feel like someone has just walked right across your grave.

You soon find out why, because the Commander turns slowly, before raising a finger at the thing he needs from Hongjoong. Simultaneously, everyone’s mouth drops in sheer shock at the absurdity of his request, or they flare up in rage from the outrageous nature of his demand.

“He’s crazy.” Yunho whispers in a daze from next to you, his wide eyes meeting your own terrified ones.

“I want the woman you have on board.”

He’s pointing straight at you.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

[sophiamcdougall]

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART 1) Last week I was swept away, helpless, by the avalanche that is the Sanremo Song Festival and I am still recovering. For your safety, I’ve tried to keep the insanity contained on my Italian side blog. But I want to try to offer you a rough summary of what I’ve learned. Sanremo inspired the Eurovision Song Contest. Over five nights, 24 acts, each with a brand new song, compete at the Ariston theatre in Sanremo for a tacky little golden lion, and the glory of being the year’s Song for Italy. 2020 marked the 70th Sanremo, so depending on who you ask, it’s a venerable national treasure or it’s stale and embarrassing (Many Italians are sick of it. Or say they are, but see below.) It is also an EPIC STRUGGLE between THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL FOR THE SOUL OF HUMANITY Let’s meet some of the protagonists: 

AKA: host Amadeus, entertainer and comedian Rosario Fiorello, il Bel Paese, and competitor Achille Lauro.

Amadeus got things off to a bad start before the show even began by praising his various female co-hosts - all seasoned TV professionals - for their beauty and their ability to stay “a step behind a man.” Outrage ensues, Amadeus claims he did not mean it like that, but keep this in mind for later. Also competing are Morgan (below, left) and Bugo (below, right.), who are performing a duet.

Going in, the one thing I know about Morgan is that on more than one occasion, he trashtalked my beloved and blameless Fabrizio Moro. So I hate him and want him to suffer. And apparently he has quite the reputation for throwing tantrums, picking on fellow-artists and sabotaging events he’s part of. But hey. He’s supposedly talented and Bugo clearly thinks he deserves another chance.  And we’re off!

Irene Grandi kicks things off with  “Finalmente Io” (“Finally Me”). But I’m starting with her not so much because she’s the first to sing as because I don’t think the song’s  got enough attention -- either for the fact that it bangs or for what it represents in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Finalmente Io is what, in the business, we call foreshadowing.

There’s a magical thing that happens to women with when they turn 40. The  develop Not-Giving-A-Fuck superpowers. The song is basically about that. It’s about freedom, and self-acceptance, and being 100% done with male bullshit. (It's also a bit of an ADHD anthem but let’s leave that aside for now.)  “I’ve lost all my patience, and all my fragility,” she sings. 

And, “If you want sex, let’s do it now. Heeeeeeere.”

Irene is the portent everyone misses, a harbinger of what is to come. 

Think of her as John the Baptist.  Onwards. So the first thing one discovers about the Sanremo Festival is that just because we have to get through 24 “big” acts AND 6 (?) new/junior artists, and they all have to perform multiple times, that doesn’t mean there’s any RUSH. Guest singers wander on and perform a song or ten. There’s comedy. We can stop everything to talk about football.  A lady comes on and talks for a million years about how her granny taught her that True Beauty is Found Within. There are also speeches about important subjects like violence against women. In fact, we are going to talk about that a lot, but also a bunch of competent and experienced female TV personalities are stuck taking turns at playing Amadeus’s Glamorous Assistant of the evening and he can’t shut up about how beautiful they all are while they cringe and lean subtly away from him. So it’s ... slow, and awkward, but within its own cheesy terms, things are normal. Too normal. Enter Achille Lauro. 

Softly, almost whispering, he begins to sing a song called  “Me ne frego”  (”I don’t care” - but with an edge of “fuck you”). This is both an everyday Italian expression and a fascist motto. Well, it was till now. 

A nation is convulsed. Right-wing Italian boomers are screaming because YOU! CAN’T! DO! THAT! AT! SANREMO! THERE! ARE! CHILDREN! WATCHING! Italian Tumblr, which like the rest of Tumblr is feral, thirsty and gay, is screaming for different reasons entirely. 

Achille, you scandalous creature, what have you done? What have you got to say for yourself?

Something strange and magical  has released and it cannot be contained. On with the songs. Good songs, bad songs, blah songs. I like “Tikibombom” by Levante - a love letter to weirdos and rebels, “Rosso di Rabbia” (Rage Red) by Anastasio about being, well, angry but scared you can’t do anything useful with it, and “Eden” by  Rancore, about... the nature of sin?? touching on everything from September 11 to the mafia to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.   However, this contest is being judged (mostly - it’s complicated) by an industry jury of FOOLS, COWARDS, and TRAITORS who KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, so virtually all of the above artists are so far languishing towards the bottom of the provisional rankings. Achille ends up in 17th place and  Rancore at 22.

Truly, the light hath shone in the darkness and the darkness knoweth it not.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO RANCORE. 

Rapper down, repeat RAPPER DOWN. SEND HELP.

However, for people who went in implacably biased against Morgan, it’s not all bad news. "Sincero” (Sincere) by Morgan and Bugo is in last place. Whether this is anything to do with the song or because Morgan is a nightmare of a person who has systematically alienated everyone in the Italian music industry except the trusting Bugo ... we can but ponder.  Sanremo grinds on. Days blur into each other and I’m not even going to try to cover events in exact order. Sanremo knows no order. Sanremo is like the universe, linear time is a construct that doesn’t really exist, and chaos happens very, very slowly.  But meanwhile, somewhere on the astral plane:

At least that is what I deduce must have happened.

The competitors and guests look deep within themselves. Do they have what it takes? Are they ready to answer the call? 

Let’s see! It’s Covers Night! Which is also Duets Night!

That’s Elettra Lamborghini (yes, that Lamborghini) and Myss Keta.

 Are they in tune? No. Does it matter? ALSO NO.

Meanwhile ... something strange is brewing between Amadeus and Fiorello...

 But wait, PLOT TWIST.

Enter Roberto Benigni.

The beloved actor and director is the latest avatar of the Dionysian frenzy that has chosen Sanremo 2020 for the place of its birth. He is the One who will unite the electric queer mayhem and the impossible grinding tedium  of Sanremo. In him, the two strains will fuse and become unstoppable. He is going to talk about sex for twenty-six minutes

He reads from the Song of Songs, which ... I knew it was sexy, and all, but is it really like that? Do you ever think about NAKED BODIES? Roberto does. Do you believe in PHYSICAL LOVE? Roberto wishes you would. Anyway, just think of all the sex we could all be having, literally right now, right heeeeere, whether we are  “a woman, and her man. Or a man and his man. Or a woman, and her woman!” He is awful. He is magnificent. He is excruciating. He is spellbinding. We are hanging on his every word and we are considering chewing our own arms off to escape. He proposes an orgy in the orchestra pit. 

Hand on heart, all of that happened. Italian Tumblr, bear witness.

And what of Achille Lauro? He unleashed this madness upon us all,  is he just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work? Of course not. Achille Lauro came to bring not peace, but a sword, to the world of toxic masculinity and gender in general and his work is not yet done.

”I too was once a little girl,” Achille sings.

Dressed as Bowie-as-Ziggy, Achille duets with Annalisa on “Gli Uomini Non Cambiano” - “Men Don’t Change”. It’s a heartbreaking song by Mia Martini from 1992 about male abuse of women, and not a single word, or a single pronoun has been changed.

However, although he’s the one in the competition, and the one dressed to dazzle, he leaves Annalisa the spotlight. It’s like she’s the tortured protagonist of the song and he’s a voice in her head, a sympathetic spirit who can’t swoop in to rescue her but can quietly affirm that she deserves better than the the hellish treatment she’s singing about. in fact, he pointedly stays a step behind her at all times. And she’s majestic. 

Of course, he’s not fucking DONE

He’s still got to sing “Me Ne Frego” again. Can he top the cape-drop? You be the judge.

So Italian Tumblr,  is now writhing on the carpet,  making a sound only bats can hear, and shitposting itself into delirium, but has it all been ENOUGH?

NO.

Poor Rancore has died again. Toxic masculinity still exists. Amadeus is still pretty gross. Everyone is going to have to GAY HARDER. CAN THEY DO IT? This post is, like Sanremo itself, getting insanely long, so ... STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO, in which Fiorello’s true nature as a chaos being is revealed, Amadeus faces his Calvary, and the gun on the stage goes off.  ----- UPDATE: Part 2 is here

#Sanremo #Sanremo 2020 #Explaining Sanremo #Achille Lauro #Explaining Sanremo Part 1

[kibleedibleedoo]

Hero of your own fate

Chapter 9

A.N. - I went into a bit of a haze while writing this so it is slightly indulgent but its my fic so i get to write what i want XD 

Word count - 1,239

Pairings - Thorin x fem!Reader

Warnings - nudity and teasing

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

-Thorin’s POV-

“Our business is no concern of elves.” Thorin spat out. He and Balin had been lured by Gandalf to one of the many rooms that opened up to overlook Rivendell under the guise of royal duties only to be greeted by Lord Elrond who seemed to be expecting this meeting. To Thorin it seemed that Bilbo followed Gandalf like a lost little puppy, so of course he was at this meeting too regardless of whether he belonged there or not. He found a little bit of himself wishing that you were there in Bilbo’s place, but dismissed that thought as quickly as it had appeared. No, no distractions. Erebor is his focus. Nothing or more accurately no one else.

“Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond.” Gandalf bellowed back.  

It was true as it stands the map was essentially useless, just an old map of the area around the lonely mountain no further information leading to the location of the hidden door. Thorin found it endlessly frustrating. He had spent many hours scouring that map by the light of the campfire while on lookout. Thorin pondered his options for a few more seconds before stepping forth handing the elf the map that was so crucial to the quest.  

-Your POV-  

You sat on your bedroll surrounded by drying laundry, some of yours included, though most of it came from your companions. One by one the dwarves filed in and out of the bath house. Most of them leaving as naked as the day they were born. It seemed you were the only one the elves decided to clothe. They were far more comfortable with their own nakedness than you were, leaving you facing away from your travel companions. This action only amused them further and led to a hilarious game of who can make y/n blush more. Surprising everyone, Ori seemed to be winning. His unsuspecting nature lulling you into a false sense of security, though you weren’t entirely sure he was actively participating. His attention more focussed on drawing the beautiful scenery.  

“Lads leave the poor lass alone” Balin announced as he re-joined the company. “She won't be used to being surrounded by naked men.”  

“Thank you Balin. I’m not really used to seeing anyone nak-” You turned around expecting to see a fully clothed Balin but instead was greeted by another naked dwarf. Quickly you clasped your hands over your eyes as a gasp escaped your mouth. If you couldn’t see anything then at least you wouldn’t see any more limp dicks swinging around. This action caused a round of cheer to echo through the room.  

“A point to Mister Balin” Fili announced proudly.  

“That has to be worth more points brother, he caused her to gasp” Kili laughed clearly enjoying himself.  

“I’ve had enough of you lot” You managed to squeak out while walking in the direction you thought led to the door. Blindly walking into some of the pillars on the way out had caused even more uproar among the group but still you refused to uncover your eyes even after you escaped the room. Down the corridor you walked one hand over your eyes the other skimming the wall. You were not taking any chances.  

-Thorin’s POV-  

Thorin had just emerged from the bath house where he had taken a very relaxing much needed bath. The hot water soothed his muscles and the bath oils left him smelling at least somewhat decent, far more flowery than he was used to, but anything was better than well-travelled dwarf with a hint of troll. Once they reclaimed the lonely mountain the bath houses would be one of the first areas he would focus on.  

Towelling his hair dry, Thorin had failed to notice you blindly ambling toward him until you both collided. Thorin was firmly rooted to the ground but you were sent tumbling backwards. Without thinking he grabbed you and held you close to his bare chest, his damp hair clinging to your skin. He lingered for a moment before letting go. Throughout this happening you never removed your hand from your face, which now helped cover your very red face, though only left Thorin extremely confused.  

“Uncle managed to make her blush without her even looking at him!” Fili shouted from the doorway. Thorin scowled in his direction causing his nephew to retreat. A muffled “that has to worth more points than Balin.” came from one of the dwarves. Leaving Thorin even more confused than before.  

“Sorry.” he watched you step away, your dress now slightly damp from his hair. “I um well I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He smirked at that remark though he wished you weren't so nervous when you spoke to him. He knew it was partially his fault for retreating away from you but getting any closer to you would put this entire quest in jeopardy.  

“Why are you covering your eyes y/n?” he tried to say softly though it came off as a little condescending.  

“I have seen far too many naked people today” A pang of jealousy hit Thorin. Had you seen the rest of the company naked? Why were they naked around you? Then he was hit by a wave of insecurity. How would he compare now that you had seen some of the more attractive members of the company? He was used to feeling self-doubt but it was seldom about his physical appearance, though now he was cursing his vow to keep his beard short while in exile. “and although I’m sure you are very attractive, I would rather leave the rest to my imagination. Wait. No. I didn’t mean it like that. Oh god I should stop talking now.”

“y/n you can open your eyes. I’m not naked” His lower body was covered but part of him wanted you to look. Thorin was rather proud of his physique and his body hair was far more impressive than his facial hair. He knew it was improper but if you had seen the rest of the company then it hardly mattered.  

“I’ve been fooled by that phrase more times than I would like to admit today so I'm going to decline and avoid the company for a few hours until everyone's clothes are dry” You mumbled. It was clear to Thorin you were extremely embarrassed and wanted to get away from the whole situation.  

“There’s a library not far from where we had lunch, instead of turning right continue to the end of the corridor.  I made the mistake of going that way earlier. I will have a word with everyone, make sure they will be covered when you return.” He smiled at you not that you could see, finally the softness in his voice coming through.  

“Thank you Thorin” He watched as you walked away until you were out of sight. He hoped you finally dropped your hand now you were out of the vicinity, he didn’t want you to get hurt. Thorin sighed knowing he was going to have to have words with his nephews, they undoubtedly were behind this whole game although the entire company seemingly needed reminding that you were in fact a lady and should be treated accordingly.

#Thorin Oakenshield #king under the mountain #king thorin #the hobbit #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #thorin x fem!reader #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader fluff #slow burn #hobbit #Kilby writes

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Tongue Tied

Notes: This is another Valentine’s Day fic, except it’s a bit shorter.This is for those who rather have pure, straight up fluff

Setting: I wanted childhood friends au. OOC Tai, kinda. Tried to make it short and sweet for Valentine’s Day, along with my other fic that’s more plot-y and smutty tOTALLY does revolve around yokai: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427309

 When you first met him, you were both about eight. He was round, cheeky, and friendly, greeting you to the new neighborhood. Only being eight, and not really having any friends, you were rather shy. He grinned, holding up a bag of blue gummy sharks. Eagerly but hesitantly, you complied, and he beamed at you with a blush, seemingly to rival the sun as he introduced himself.

“-but ya can call me Tai-chan!”

Regularly, his mom and your mom became close friends, and often brought the two of you to the park. Him being the only familiar, friendly face, you followed him everywhere, like a little puppy. He would be always smiling and talking, falling in step beside you as he munched on whatever or whichever his mom had brought for him, sharing with you, and you offered your own snacks.

He grew on you, taking you everywhere, creating blanket and pillow forts, and promised that the two of you will be best friends forever. Although rather shy, you were extremely protective of him, finding your young self snapping at bullies when they’ve made fun of his weight, and making sure that he was alright. He would look at you shyly yet with a soft grin and rub the back of his head, telling you that you were amazing.

………………..

You were both ten. In two years, you’ve grown very close to him. Of course, his family and doctor worrying about his weight, had put him on a diet. He was still a little round, but had grown a few inches taller. You didn’t care, as long as he was your friend. Who you totally did not have a small crush on. Nope.  

The two of you were in his living room, resting in your own separate sleeping bags as Bambi played on the VHS. No matter how many times the two of you seen it, his eyes would always water up when a particular scene came along as he shoved popcorn in his mouth. All you could really do was pat his shoulder gently, causing him to stutter and have the same odd red tint to his cheeks as he laughed nervously. You stared at his odd behavior, but shrugged, reaching for the popcorn as the two of you talked about future dreams and other things as the sleepover crawled on.

By this time, you’ve knew him a bit more, use to hanging out at his house, and his yours. Cooking and baking with each other’s respective moms, was a common weekend thing.

……………………………..

 He’d gotten a bit more loud and rowdy, but was still sweet as ever. Of course, being twelve, the two of you were experiencing your own physical and mental changes. Voice cracking, outgrowing baby fat, the two of you were still close. He’d gotten many scrapes and bruises, however, while being rowdy and not as careful, and he’d grumble a little with a pink tint to his cheeks, as you hushed him, placing a Hello Kitty band-aid on his cut.

Although a bit more older, the two of you still drank Capri-sun, watched classics on his VCR, and he didn’t mind that you tagged along wherever he went. Imagine his surprise when you’ve gotten a little braver, not hesitating to cheer him on during sports tryouts, or started doing more things of your own without him. Of course, the both of your parents were wary of the two of you spending the entire night for some weird reason, but you still hung out for most of the day, swapping Pokemon cards and playing on the old gaming system while mindlessly talking like you’ve always done.

…………………..

  High school was somewhat different. He was an awkward fifteen year old boy, but head-strong, tall, and a bit more lanky. You were still a little quiet and shy, but the two of you stuck close to each other like glue. He’d drag you to his baseball tournaments, and you’d invite him to your archery ones. He still was rowdy and somewhat of a hyper, cute klutz, grinning from ear to ear with pink cheeks as you sighed, wrapping yet another band-aid around his cuts.

 You, being still young, had to bite down an odd feeling that came over you when he was surrounded by girls. You didn’t understand it, they were just being friendly, right? He looked rather uncomfortable, but was still red in the face as he kept making glances at you, a silent plea for help.

 It’s when the bullying had started. The whispers and rumors, all because you helped him escape from a gaggle of young teens. He, being protective as always, shot glares and scowls at those who dared even came close to you, telling you that it was alright to defend yourself, and to call on him if he needed anything. So, while there was some bullying, the budding attention from kids hitting puberty, was a bit worse.

He was agitated for some weird reason, yet kept a dopey smile for your sake when you kept receiving love letters and confessions. You didn’t miss the relief in his eyes when you turned them all down, and vice versa when he stated that he wasn’t really interested in most of the people in your school. You didn’t fail to notice that he kept looking at you for an extra two seconds, but dismissed it.

……………

Senior year wasn’t as bad as freshman year. He, with all of his practice in sports and such, grew a bit of muscle mass, but at eighteen, was round and taller, around six foot, easily dwarfing you. Although older teens, you’ve kept in touch despite the crazy amount of tests, finals, and new friends. People were murmuring in awe at how the two of you were so close, and yet weren’t a couple. It didn’t stop either of your ears burning, but neither of you had either dated, only fueling those rumors.

He was very popular, as were you, despite your shyness and liking to blend in. Two peas in a pod, yet almost opposite personalities described him and you. You liking to read, and him liking to play sports and be outside. It didn’t stop you from following him around, him chuckling and ruffling your hair as you played a few games with him, or him hanging out with you at the library.

 Of course, a lot of admirers from both sides were jealous because of the two of your closeness. You still politely refused the applicants of the love letters, and he, gaining more courage, stated that he wasn’t really interested in the gaggle of fawners who surrounded him. The two of you had constantly protected each other from unwanted bullies and too pushy one-sided interests while living your own lives.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, but you’ve gotten a part-time job as well as your license, him not wanting to be left behind, followed after. You forever had the image burned in your brain that Monday morning. He, waiting for you, sported a Letterman jacket, beat up sneakers, grinning wildly and proudly as he leaned against his new car. It was an older model, but you were proud of him, and plus, he was still doing things to your chest that you did not understand.

“Get in, Sugar, we’re goin’ fer a spin.” He smiled, holding up his new keys, and you couldn’t help but feel cicadas buzz gently within your stomach.

Prom was different. You weren’t really interested in going, and instead, the two of you spent the night at your house, baking cookies and listening to old songs on the radio. He smiled, wearing your mom’s apron as he swiveled to the music, causing you to laugh more than you should as he mimicked her, cursing about the neighborhood children and gushing about soap operas.  

The tiny desserts ended up being burnt, his hair was wild, and the two of you were a laughing mess, reflecting childhood days.

By the end of the night, he looked like he wanted to say something before he left, but instead, gave you one of his warm, gooey smiles that made your heartbeat quicken.

……………..

College had a unique spin to it. Tests weren’t as frequent, but they were a bit harder. There were online classes, more deadlines, and yet, despite it all, nicer, calmer teachers. You, being an excellent student, earned your funding through the school. Of course you broke away from living at your parent’s house, and had to support yourself further by working, but it was worth it.

The dorm rooms were roomy, and your roommate, who was blessed with common courtesy, was kind and distant. He, attached to you at the hip, followed the same pattern, almost, except he’d chosen a different career. Oddly, he wanted to become a teacher, but the more you thought about it, the more you could see it. Always friendly, warm, and generous, an inner part of you knew that he was good around children, and it’d be a perfect career choice.

You yourself, only nineteen, had liked the idea of biology, studying animals and their habits. It also put the two of you in a lot of the same classes for the next four years. Despite studying, working, and worrying, the two of you had seemed to find extra time for each other. Granted it was more to study, but a lot of places were in the cafeteria, at the local coffee shops, and sometimes in your dorm room if your roommate was out. Within the four years before graduating, you’ve discovered more about your own feelings for the blond, and had secretly accepted them. You didn’t know of his own feelings towards you other than a very close friend, but you were surprised that he turned down popular, pretty people.

To say that you were relieved, was an understatement, but you couldn’t fathom why he’d turn down so many nice admirers. You’d accepted the fact that he might be asexual, or aromantic, and cherished him as your close friend no matter what the outcome might have been.

 ……………….

 Graduation was celebrated with lots of laughter and cheer from both of you and your families. Not really having a place, the two of you, being really close, decided to rent together on a lease. Age twenty-three, the two of you had to struggle a bit to find jobs, but luckily, with his charm and endearing personality, it didn’t take him too long to land as a kindergarten teacher, and you, with your experiences and tenaciousness, landed in the science lab some miles over.

   The two of you worked perfectly together, splitting bills and chores, making meals, it was almost as if the two of you were a couple, due to your wishful thinking. Which, to be fair, you thought and wondered a lot. What was the two of your relationship, what were you waiting for, and so on. It was growing on you, and you were feeling as if you had enough. Although not blaming him, you wanted to spend as much time at work as possible, staying away from the very being who made your heart soar and yet hurt from the questioning and pining.

He, being very keen, noticed immediately of your sudden absence. Going early and coming home later, eating briefly with that odd, distant look in your eyes as you joined in on his conversations, but it was as if you were replaced by something else. It was driving him mad, because in all of his years of knowing you, it didn’t add up.

One night, you came home to an odd sight. The table, although already set neatly, had your favorite dish set out on a platter. He sat there, pouring two glasses of wine as he stared at you.

“This ain’t like ya, Chickadee.” He stated bluntly, setting your glass near the platter, and you sighed, sitting down. Of course he’d notice, and although you felt guilty, you needed to give yourself space from the accepted, yet buzzing emotions welling within you.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” Was the silent plea, and you, caught off guard by the sheer hurt in his voice, found yourself nodding.

…………..

Present. The two of you, adults, sat at the table as he stared at you intently with a look of worry and hurt. He was your friend, and you guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to let loose your feelings, so he could know, and let you down, gently. Taking a breath, you started.

His eyes were widened, but he didn’t speak as you spoke. Letting the weight of your concerns and feelings be lifted off of your shoulders as you could only briefly make eye-contact. He was stunned, to say at least, but it’s what you’ve been feeling for years. As soon as you finished, you bravely stared at him, to drink in his reactions to your inner conflict. Swallowing thickly, he set his utensil down as he gave you a warm, heated stare.

“We’re both a lil’ dense, ain’t we, Sugar?”

You couldn’t help but nod a little as he stood up, walking over towards you to stare at you. It was your turn to look surprised, letting him cup your face, and lean in. Soft and warm, just like him, you couldn’t help but think as finally, finally, the two of you shared a kiss. The soft fluttering of butterflies within your stomach melted with a warm heat within your gut, surprising you in an instant as the two of you had broken away, him staring at you with a soft smile and a hot blush to his cheeks.

“Ya know how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that?” He asked rather shyly.

“Since we were eight?”

“Right on the nose. Ya as well?” He grinned, kissing your forehead gently at your nod.

“We gotta lotta talkin’ to do, but how ‘bout we start things proper with a date?”

  You gently took his hand within yours, rubbing your thumb over the back in soft circles.

“Sounds perfect.”

………………

Short bc I had a 12k fic already done not too long ago, and this is for the crowd who just wanted fluff and cuteness.  

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #Like I had permission from a sweet artist to let me write the visuals in my other fic #And they gave me permission to post it on A03 #I was unsure about Tumblr so I left a link to my fanfic account

[chuuyasnumber1simp]

Born of Lies, but Learning to Love- Extra

A/N: i thought of this awhile back, when i was working out the plan and storyline, but couldn’t fit it into the storyline. 

So, i thought it’d make it a cute lil extra! It takes place during the two days Y/N had to stay home and heal from her injury's :)

It’s not mandatory to read, but i think it adds a little more to You and Chuuya’s relationship. 

Part One 

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Reader getting drunk, a serious conversation while drunk, F L U F F 

Chuuya’s POV:

It was quite sad watching you drift about the house, like you were looking for something and hoped to find in the various paintings and things he had in his lavish house. 

Chuuya enjoyed the finer things in life, and he imagined you didn’t even know what the finer things were. You looked out of place, dressed in the same clothes he had given you to change into, and despite your sizes being close, the sweatshirt dwarfed your form. 

It made Chuuya sad, because here you looked normal. Like you had never endured the things you had. 

He likened you to an old painting. From far away, it was beautifully constructed, a perfect depiction. but the closer he got, the more he saw the cracks in the old paint. The blemishes, the mistakes. Places where you had been broken and then pieced back together, but much like old paintings, most people never got close enough to notice. Never cared to look deeper than the weapon you were made to be. 

You usually sat in the living room, watching tv. He found it adorable how, out of everything Chuuya had in his house -and there was quite a lot- His tv fascinated you the most. You would sit there for hours, switching back and forth between channels, never staying on one for too long. Eventually, he saw you mouthing the words to a gum commercial, but you stopped when you noticed him staring. 

“You know there’s more to watch than the news and the fashion channel,”

“I know. These require the least amount of reading, though,”

“Do you know what a Soap Opera is?” 

“An Opera involving soap?”

Chuuya chuckled at your literal guess. “Nice try, but no. They’re like regular Tv shows, but way more dramatic,”

“Do they involve reading?”

“Not really,”

“Are there any on right now?”

“No,” Chuuya watched you deflate a little bit, and you turned back to watching a lady explain the difference between satin and silk. 

“But,” You turned back to him instantly. “I just so happen to have the entire series of When Calls the Heart on DVD. Do you want to watch it?”

You slowly nodded your head, like you were scared to give a definite answer. 

Now, you sat in front of of the couch, bowl of popcorn in lap, another thing you had taken a special interest in. 

“You can sit up on the couch next to me, if you want to,”

“I can see the TV better from here,”

Chuuya popped open a bottle of Merlot, opting for something simpler, relishing the smoother and fruity taste. 

Although he would not admit it to anyone, he had already watched all five seasons of it. And shed a couple tears during certain scenes. 

Much to his surprise, you were completely enamored with what you saw on screen. The drama about Elizabeth Thatcher, a young teacher accustomed to high society, experiencing a culture shock when she gets her first classroom assignment in Coal Valley, seemed like the most interesting thing in your entire life. 

During the opening of the next episode, you turned around to face Chuuya.

“What are you drinking?”

“Wine. Merlot, specifically,”

You stared at the glass in his hand, and opened your mouth to say something, then thought better of it, and faced the tv once more. 

It took four episodes of you sneaking glances at the bottle for Chuuya to speak up. 

“Did you want some?” 

You shook your head no, but the way you kept eyeing the red liquid that sloshed in his cup said otherwise. 

He grabbed another glass from the kitchen, then poured a small amount into it, silently handing it to you. 

Against his better judgment, he set the bottle on the coffee table, hoping that if you did like it, you would use self control. 

Chuuya wasn’t a forgetful person. But he did however, forget that if you didn’t know what wine was, then there was no way you knew that, if drunk in large quantities, made you very intoxicated. And that, if drunken on an empty stomach, it enters your bloodstream a thousand times faster. 

“Chuuya -hic- did you know that this subordinate of yours tried to hit on me?”

You were currently lying face down on the ground, legs and arms spread out like a starfish. 

Chuuya found it very hard not to laugh. 

“I made an illusion of me stabbing him, then when it was over, I -hic- slapped him in the face. He deserved it, he was gross,”

“Is that so?” 

You looked up at his face, and then squinted. 

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for any imperfections on your face. I can’t find any, though,”

Even though he was sure you had absolutely no idea how your words could come across, Chuuya could still feel some heat rising to his face. 

He watched you stand up on wobbly legs, then walk towards his seat on the couch. Although, with how drunk you were, it was kind of more like you tripped your way over to him. 

The show was still playing, but what surprised him was when you plopped yourself down on the couch next to him. 

“Sss cold. And your very warm,” you wrapped your arms around his torso, and practically melted into his body. 

You did not move from that position for at least an hour, eyes still focused on the show playing before you. A scene came on where the main couple began dancing, and you turned your wide eyes to Chuuya’s once more. 

He swore that he’d never found you this attractive before this. It’s just the wine in your system, idiot. There’s no way your actually falling for her. 

“Can we try that?” You pointed to the dancing. 

“Sure,” Chuuya shrugged, the little buzz he had washing away his usual inhibition's. 

He stood up off the couch and dragged your drunken form to the middle of the living room. Grabbing your hand’s in his, he slowly swayed back and forth to the sound of the show. It was in no way graceful, you were drunk and never danced before, and he was a bit tipsy himself, which lead to him chuckling every so often when you would trip over your feet, or step on his, but nonetheless, it was enjoyable. 

He was happy. 

Chuuya enjoyed many things in his life, but they failed to make him feel the way he did now, drunkenly dancing with you in his living room while a soap opera played in the background. It felt like a ream, though he was certain that was caused by the amount of alcohol the both of you consumed. 

“Sorry. I’m not good at dancing,”

Chuuya wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you closer to him. “You don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. Often times, learning to do something is more rewarding than getting it right the first time,”

“Where’s the fun in failing?”

“No one’s good at everything at first, not even you. Humans are exactly that- human. We are not perfect, but the strive to attain anything close to perfection is why we keep going everyday,”

“If that’s true, then what form of perfection are you trying to achieve?” Your words were slurred, but the message hidden beneath did not go unheard. 

Why are you doing this?

“I don’t know. Maybe the reason I get up in the morning is to find out what I’m reaching for,”

You lowered your hands from his, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest.

“For as long as I’ve lived, if gotten up everyday because i had to. That it would be a waste of my skills to stop, to just give up and die. Life didn;t hold meaning, everything seemed so empty and grey. But now that you’re here, it seems different,”

Chuuya wrapped his arms round you and rested his chin on your head. “How so?”

“You changed everything, always telling me i’m worth more than a weapon. I thought you were lying at first, to be honest. But now, I’m not so sure. 

But nonetheless, thank you, for showing me there’s more to life, more to me,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both stood that for awhile, Chuuya holding you close, swaying slightly, and you just leaning against him. 

He tried to extract you from his arms, but you tripped over his legs, and fell backwards. Being the gentleman he was, he grabbed you, but didn’t account for the fact that your momentum would take him down too. 

So there you both were, a tangle of limbs on the floor, and he heard it. 

You laughed. 

He was kind of hoarse, like your throat wasn’t used to making this noise, but it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It was a melody he could listen to forever, and at that moment he knew that he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to be the reason you laughed. 

You both fell asleep there, the wine finally kicking in. 

But now, you had each other. 

A/N: omg im so sorry for how long this took to finish, school is kicking my booty. however, the issues have been resolved so i can finally resume writing this. Also this turned out a bit sadder than originally intended???? sorry abt that but the next chapter for this should be done by Sunday, so stay tuned :))))

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader

[slutforalistairtheirin]

Pe-Channas

A/n:  in this imagine the reader and Legolas start out absolutely hating each other.  Eventually they get used to one another, and then that turns into something more. This is set in The Hobbit, when the dwarves arrive in Mirkwood with their arachnid buddies.   Enjoy!!

Also, Pe-channas means idiot in elvish.

Word Count: 2053

Y/n's P.O.V:

"No, Tauriel you don't get it! You're friends with him! I don't know how, but you are."  You say angrily, while beating up a hanging sack filled with hay.  Not to mention, imagining that stupid prince's face on it.  

"Y/n, he's not so bad if you just give him a chance." Tauriel answers you pointedly, from her place sitting criss-cross on the floor.

"How does he not make your blood boil? Irk you to the core?" You ask, loose strands of your h/c hair going in your face as the door to the room you are training in opens, and the face you were just imagining pummeling appears from behind it.

"Oh hey princy! We were just talking about you!" You exclaim, false happiness dripping from your words.  Legolas ignores your comment, and speaks only to Tauriel.

"It's our guard shift, take your friend and get ready." He says, and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.  

"Well, you heard him.  We should go. " Tauriel says, standing up off the floor.  You simply nod, and pull your once loose hair into a quick braid.  

The two of you leave the room and meet Legolas and the other guards at the front gate.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some time later~

Fighting brought you adrenaline.  You absolutely love adrenaline.  Therefore you love fighting.  The only problem is, you hate when people do it better than you.  Such as Legolas.  The stupid prince, always had to be able to do something better.  No matter what you did, for everything you could do better than him, he had three more he could do better than you.  Fortunately, you are a better archer.  

"Legolas! Duck!" You yell, and shoot an arrow just barely to the left of his head, narrowly missing his ear, and blowing a few strands of his hair around.  You hit your mark, a spider's eye.  

The blond haired prince glares at you, and continues killing spiders around him, more aggressively now. 

By the time the spiders are all dead, Tauriel has already hurt the pride of a young, black-haired dwarf, who was pouting currently.  

You approached a light-haired dwarf, with a braided mustache.  He has pale green eyes.  His hair is thick and chaotic, similar to a lion's mane.  It also  has several braids in different locations.  

"Weapons, please." You say, a harsh tone taking over your voice.  This tone is strange for the people who know you, but it's perfectly normal to people who don't, given your threatening atmosphere.  

He hands over two large swords,  pulls about 4 smaller daggers from inside his jacket, and then one dagger from each boot.  He stops handing you weapons, and you give him a knowing look.  He hands over six more blades and you know he has more.  You aren't sure where.  "Any more?" You ask, and he pulls one more out of the back of his jacket.  

After being handed all of his weapons you direct him, forcefully, towards where the rest of the dwarves and elves are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some time later~

You're now standing in front of King Thranduil with the company of dwarves and the other guards.  King Thranduil is talking about something, you're not really listening though. Instead, you wait impatiently. 

Before you know it, he's giving the order to lock the dwarves up.  The leader, whom you hadn't caught the name of, stayed while you and the guards took the rest of the dwarves to put them in cells.  

As you're about to shove the golden-haired dwarf into a cell, you find another blade under the collar of his coat and take it out.  He gives you an innocent look and you push him into the cell, shutting it after him.  

You leave after pushing him into the cell, and turn a corner only to run into a certain blond haired prince.  "Watch where you're going, pe-channas!"  You say, and dust yourself off as if he has cooties.  For some reason, unbeknownst to you, your face turns red, which you don't notice.  When he doesn't respond, and just looks at you quizzically, you roll your eyes and walk away.  

You're not sure where you're going, and end up in your sleeping quarters.  Of course, your blush had faded by now.  Not that you even knew it was there.  You flopped on your bed and fell asleep almost immediately.  Your dreams confused you a lot, they were snippets of different things, there were flashes of a war, you saw mounds of gold, and what confused you the most was seeing Legolas.  For once, seeing his face didn't bother you.  

You're awoken suddenly when you hear a knock on your door.  "Yes...?" You say, rubbing your face groggily.   You hear Tauriel's voice from the other side.  "Y/n? Are you alright? You've been in there for hours." She asks and you can hear concern coating her words.

"Yes, I'm alright.  Do you need something?" You completely forget your manners in your weary state, so she just opens the door without being invited in.  "Have you been asleep?" She shuts the door gently behind her.

You nod, entirely puzzled as to why she is in your room.  You half wish she would go away so you can go back to sleep, back to your dreams.  Unfortunately for you she does not.  

"I've been looking for you everywhere! Legolas tells me he ran into you earlier and you..." She stops, and scans your face inquisitively.  

"I what?" You question, still half awake and hardly understanding what she was on about.  But you did know she said Legolas's name.  For some reason that caught your attention.

"You blushed!!" She exclaims in surprise that you didn't know.  You laugh.

"Tauriel, I don't blush.  Especially not because of that irritating twat.  He probably made it up."  You say, and Tauriel sighs.

"I had a feeling you'd say that, so I brought you this!" She hands you a mirror, and you look into it.  To your surprise, you were blushing! You drop the mirror on the bed.  

"What? I can't be blushing.  Why am I blushing?" You stare at the mirror in horror, it's just not possible.  That infuriating little prick could not make you blush.  

Tauriel smiles, amused.  "You like him!!" She squeals, nearly falling off your bed in excitement. "I knew it would happen eventually! I knew you couldn't hate each other forever!"

You shake your head.  "No.  There's no way.  It's not possible.  I hate that stupid, blond-haired, pretty boy prince! How could I like him? He may have a nice face, wait- no, he's uglier than a orc! I'm going to stop talking now..." You say, and rub your temples with your forefingers and middle fingers.  This time you feel your face heating up and groan.  

"I am only blushing because you embarrassed me!" You exclaim, trying to convince both her and yourself.  "Not because I like the dumb guy." You say, softer.  

"You do! Just admit it! I know you're thinking it! I'll tickle you if you don't admit it." You gasp, knowing damn well she will do it.  "No, Tauriel no-!" Before you can say anything else she starts tickling you, and all you can do is giggle and try to squirm away.  

"O-okay fine!" You try to gasp out, in between giggles.  

"Fine what?" She asks, knowing exactly what you mean.

"F-fine, I l-l-l-ike him!!" She stops tickling you, and you try to catch your breath.  

"That's better.  Now you have to tell him."

"There's no way in all Middle Earth I will ever do that.  You seem to forget the fact that the feeling of hate was mutual."  She gives you a knowing look.

"Don't make me tickle you again." She threatens. You sigh,  

"Fine, but when nothing happens don't come crying to me."  You say.  "Now can I go back to my nap?" She shakes her head and gets up off your bed.  

"You have to tell him now!!" She grabs your hand and pulls you off your bed.  "Well, not looking like that...." She frowns.  

"Then I guess I can't do it!" You say, about to flop back on your bed, but Tauriel doesn't allow you to.  

"No! We just have to fix you up some.  Starting with your hair!" She gestures to what once was your braid, but now is a complete mess from sleeping.  

"Fine... do with it what you will..." You say, although you wouldn't mind someone playing with your hair.  She makes you sit down on your bed and locates your hairbrush.  She sits behind you and runs the brush through your hair until it's smooth.  She braids it neatly down your back and over your left shoulder.  

"Perfect." She says.   "Now at least straighten your clothes.  Then you can go."  

"Yay." You grumble under your breath as you step out the door, without doing anything to your clothes, out of spite.  Tauriel smiles.  

You wander around, not really looking for Legolas but if you happen to run into each other then you'll tell him.  But you weren't about to intentionally look for him.  

As luck would have it you did run into each other.  Literally.  Again.  Except this time you fell.  You also didn't have a snarky remark.  

"Y/n, are you alright?" Legolas asks and leans down to help you up.  

"Absolutely fine, dear prince.  The floor is quite comfortable." You say, half sarcastically and take his hand to be pulled up.   "Were you just.... nice to me?" You ask, astonished.  He nods, confused.

"I thought Tauriel talked to you."  He says, running a hand through his long blond hair. 

"She did... what do you mean by that?  She just told me to come find you."  You say, and Legolas frowns. 

"I should've known she was going to make me do it..." He mumbles.  

"Make you do wha- oh..." You start, in realization.  Your face starts heating up.  "Well I guess that's what she sent me for, so... I- I really like you, and I thought I just hated you but I guess I just didn’t know how to handle the feelings I had for you." 

Legolas's eyes light up in both surprise and joy.  "You- you do? I thought you actually hated me."He says.  

"Well I thought so too, but I guess I've never felt that way before, so I didn't know what it meant, so I thought I hated you and went with it." You reply, looking down at your shoes.  

He chuckles softly, and puts his hand under your chin, and you look up at him.  You can see the colors of his eyes, the pale blue and the soft, sea green swirling together to make a beautiful aegean blue.  He also has gold flecks scattered like freckles in his irises.  

While you were zoned out on his eyes, he was slowly leaning in closer.  He captures your lips with his, and the hand that was under your chin moves to the back of your head, and his free arm wraps around your waist.  

Your eyes flutter shut, and you wrap your arms around his neck, and since he's not so much taller than you, you don't have to stand on your toes or anything.

You have to pull away for air, and he rests his forehead against yours.  

"So, I guess that means you don't hate me anymore, huh?" He says, making you laugh.  

"Leave it to you to ruin a moment."

A/N: I just felt like writing something silly, I promise I’ll write a more serious one. 

#legolas #lord of the rings #the hobbit #legolas x reader

[greennightspider]

Teddy Bear (Kili x Reader)

Author’s Note: Just a very fun, light hearted fic! I like writing goofy oneshots full of the unexpected and funny scenarios, so I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You are a stranger, dropped right from your bedroom in the modern world into the middle of Thorin Oakenshield's company. At the behest of some of the more welcoming members like Bofur and Bombur they take you on, and you do your best to prove yourself. Until one habit from your old world comes back to bite you. Or cuddle you, per se. 

Rating: Suggestive, but ultimately fluff.

Tagging: @bewareofmyinside​

Kili x Female Reader

Two weeks into travelling in Middle Earth and you felt like you were getting the hang of things. It was amazing how the things you thought were necessities in the modern world, turned out to mean so little now. And you were surprised at how little you missed it. 

Luckily, before you were thrust into the land of no cellphones, no working plumbing and no UberEats you had actually enjoyed camping rough, tramping, and exploring the outdoors. You were also pleasantly surprised when a lot of the plants you foraged for back home could be found in this wilderness, and so Bombur and the company were very pleased at the new herbs/flavors at mealtimes. You had started to feel like one of the team, and you very much enjoyed their company.

The only thing that was bothering you during your journey was your lack of sleep. It wasn’t due to the cold or the terrain as one would have thought. Yet as the nights went on you found it harder and harder to find rest. You had hoped the different circumstances would have curbed your sleeping routine, but alas no luck.

Even still, there was no way. No. Way. That you were going to admit to a throng of burly men that you still needed a teddy bear to sleep with at night. All of your hard earned respect? Gone. And Thorin had just managed to start looking at you with a normal frown instead of an annoyed frown! No way. It was too embarrassing to ever admit. 

So you resigned yourself to your tossings and turnings, never thinking that your lack of cuddles would one day, get the best of you.

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

Kili poked at the fire with his sword, the embers sparking into the night sky. He watched them dance, glad for the cool night air. It was only himself, Dwalin and Thorin left awake, Fili already taking an early night. Kili didn't mind the night watch. Dwalin and Thorin had always been late sleepers and early risers. Kili smiled as he listened to another of Dwalin's battle stories, hoping that one day he would be able to have fierce battle stories of his own. 

However, in the lull of it all the young dwarf heard the crunch of footsteps behind him. The young prince instantly put his hand on the hilt of is sword as he spun around, but his face softened as he saw it was just you.

"Y/N," Kili chuckled a sigh of relief. "You scared me for a minute."

You stood there silently, looking down swaying from side to side.

"Are you alright there lass?" Dwalin asked, turning his head sideways as you seemed a bit..off.

"...teddy..." You mumbled.

"What was that?" Kili tried to lean forward to make out what you said, but no sooner was he leaning forward than inching away.

Kili squirmed under your intense gaze as you bent down, getting closer and closer even as the young prince neared the edge of the log he sat on. Even Dwalin nudged Thorin who was looking out to the mountain and nodded to your peculiar display.

"Uuum, Y/N?"

The young dwarf prince gulped as he stared into those beautiful hazel eyes of yours, his cheeks starting to become rosy. He couldn’t deny it, having you around was definitely a welcome vision after staring at rugged dwarves for weeks on end, half of which were his family. But the way you were staring at him at this moment, so intensely, he couldn’t tell if his body was responding in fear or attraction.

Suddenly you stopped peering, and your eyes lit up with a dazed smile. "There you are teddy, I missed you."

Before Kili could register what that meant, all of a sudden he felt you hoist him off the ground and into your arms.

"I was looking everywhere for you!" You squeezed him to your unbridled chest and swung him around. Kili could do nothing but turn red as you nuzzled to his bristled cheek, helpless as a ragdoll. His arms pinned to his sides, even squirming didn’t help much as you held him in such a strong bear hug, cooing contentedly. In all honestly he was surprised at your strength, managing to lift him with such ease, although your strength was the least of his worries right now. 

As his mouth was inadvertently covered by the sleeve of your coat Kili tried to make panicked eyes at his uncle and Dwalin, hoping for some much needed assistance.

But Dwalin just hollered and burst out laughing at the sight of the young fierce warrior at the mercy of a sleep-walking Y/N. "You go lass!" Dwalin cheered, and Thorin spat out his drink as he watched his nephew get dragged into the night with wild, fearful eyes.

Just as Thorin was about to follow them Dwalin's hand stayed his shoulder. “Leave em be Thorin, I doubt those two younglings will get up to much.” He chuckled. 

"Uh- Y/N?" Kili stammered, as he was dropped onto his back on your bedfurs. For all of Kili's confident flirting, Kili had never actually been in a woman’s bed before. Or been taken to bed before. He gulped as you maneuvered around him, still half over his body preventing him from escape.

Did he want to escape though? Never in a million years did he think Y/N would be so bold, but he still was a male. He watched as the moonlight caressed the nape of your neck, as you held him to your clavicle while you prepped his makeshift pillow. Oh, it had been a long time since he had felt such intimate care and affection.

"Its bedtime now Mr Teddy." You murmured, tucking both of you into the bed. The young dwarf couldn’t resist breathing in your musk, drowning in your scent as it lulled him to relax. Kili was helpless to your sleepy smile, and once again let you cuddle him close to your breasts. He blushed as you snuggled your chin to the top of his head, giving him a small kiss that almost made his heart explode.

"Sleep now Mr Teddy." You murmured, and for once this was a prison Kili never wanted to escape.

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

As the sun peeked over the mountain tops your eyes filtered open,having had the best sleep in weeks. You stretched your arms outwards, reveling in the dawn before hearing a small cough and looking down, to see a young dwarf looking up at you with big eyes nestled to your chest.

"Uhm, morning Y/N." Kili looked up sheepishly.

The shriek that would have left your mouth would have ended up being the alarm clock that woke the entire company, had Kili not clapped his hand over your mouth instantly. You skirted to the corner of your bedmat, Kili still peeking timidly from the opposite side.

"Um Kili, why are you in my bed?" You tried to keep your voice low and unpanicked. Well, in all honesty Kili himself was not an unwelcome sight, and you had more than once caught yourself gawking at the handsome dwarf, in all his 5ft glory. But the fact that you couldn’t remember how he’d ended up here had you more than alarmed.

"Well, I was hoping to ask you the same thing." Kili replied.

"What do you mean?"

Kili rose on his elbows, careful not to see who else was awake. “You’re the one who dragged me here, calling me ‘teddy’?”

“Oh no.” You covered your face with your hands, mortified. 

"Back home I'd always slept with a big teddy bear in my bed, which is like a children’s doll in the shape of a bear.” You tried to mimic the shape with your hands. “I find it really hard to sleep otherwise. But I guess in my sleep I must’ve mistaken you for- oh Kili I’m so sorry I’m so embarrassed."

"No no no its okay." Kili held his hands up. "No harm was done, nothing except having an extra warm bed." He chuckled then winced, instantly regretting his joke in the awkwardness of it all.

“Once again I am so, so sorry.” You held your hands up. “I promise it wont happen again.”

But it did.

The next night you picked him up like a baby, while Bofur and Bilbo who were on night-watch looked on, eyebrows raised to their foreheads, Kili trying not to make eye-contact with either one.

“I’m so sorry Kili I promise I won’t do it again.”

The night after that you still managed to find him while being a sleepwalking zombie, plucking him up in his nightroll, again to Dwalin and Thorin’s amusement. 

“Stop trying to run away Mr Teddy.” You mumbled, tossing him over his shoulder.

“Yea laddy, stop trying to fight it.” Dwallin snorted. “The girl’s obviously picked you for a reason.”

“Its because I look like her bear teddy!” Kili tried to argue over your shoulder, obviously not looking in any shape to defend himself.

The next morning as you awoke with Kili in your arms again, you sighed.

“Kili, I’m so sorry about this, I know it must be annoying.”

The young dwarf gazed at your face with wide eyes, trying really hard not to look at the soft breasts he was pressed up against. “Well there are worse ways to sleep.” He grinned.

You laughed and gave him a small knowing nudge, to which he chuckled.

Kili bit his lip and leaned his head back on the pillow. “You know, Y/N, I don’t mind being your *ahem* your ‘teddy’, if it helps you sleep.”

Your eyes widened, a blush start to creep up your cheeks. “I couldn’t ask that of you. I mean, wouldn’t it be a burden?” You shuffled closer to him, your doe eyes already doing a number on his beating heart.

“Well it would save you from having to hunt for me in the middle of the night.” Kili chuckled, shuffling so that he was eye to eye with you and ever that much closer to your lips. “And its my duty to look after the company, and blushing maidens when they need me.”

“Well, as long as its okay with you, its okay with me.” You uttered softly, inching closer to Kili. 

The two of you slowly closed the gap, eyes lidded, lips a hair’s breadth apart when suddenly the sound of Dwalin banging Bombur’s pot and spoon jolted you apart.

“Wakey wakey!” Dwalin bellowed, walking around the camp before side-eyeing the two bundles of embarrassment that were Kili and Y/N on the ground, looking like two children at a sleepover.

“Aight ya two lovebirds that’s enough for this morning.” He laughed, leaving Kili sitting up flushed trying not to make eye-contact with anyone especially his brother, until he felt a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, and a whisper in his ear.

“Until tonight, my teddy.”

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BONUS: If Fili had been the Teddy Bear

FILI: *marches right up to you* Y/N, I accept your offer. I have talked about our engagement to Thorin, he's said yes, all things going well in Erebor. Thorin just said no children before we take the mountain. *Fili walks away as if nothing has happened*

YOU: *standing there, dumbfounded, mouth agape* We who the what now

#greennightspider #kili x reader #hobbit fanfiction #kili fanfiction #kili oneshot #yes dwalin is that fun dad uncle #who will both cheer you on and embarrass you