#some of their powers wouldn’t be suited to breaking out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

Text

don’t touch her (mv1)

max x reader , unnamed mclaren employee x reader

summary: max knows his feelings for you are wrong, you have a boyfriend. but all bets are off when that boyfriend gets aggressive with you

notes: this one’s angsty guys, also we’re gonna pretend that japan was later in the season just for timing purposes

warnings: physical fight, blood, a toxic relationship

He knew he shouldn’t be staring at you from across the paddock. He knew it was wrong on so many levels. You were a part of the Red Bull team, one of his coworkers. You were also dating someone from the McLaren team. Max had never wanted to hit Lando over the head as much as he did when the young Brit introduced you to your current boyfriend. But he couldn’t stop himself from searching for you in any room he went into, or at any media events or any meetings.

Max Verstappen could confidently say he was without a doubt in love with you.

He had grown attached to you quickly, being one of the only people he worked with that didn’t fawn over him just because he was good at his job. You treated him like a real person. When he was with you there was no Max Verstappen, there was only Max. You were a breath of fresh air, the calm in the storm that was his chaotic life. You were his quiet, safe space he could escape to when things became too much. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and shield you away from all that was wrong in the world, but he’d settle for calling you his friend, his best friend.

Max liked to think of himself as a good person, the type of person that just wanted to see you happy, even if it meant seeing you with someone else. He promised himself he wouldn’t act upon his feelings, at least not while you were dating anyone. He wouldn’t dare destroy your happiness just because of his heart.

Max could also admit he was petty, so childishly petty. He didn’t like seeing you hanging around the McLaren garage during race weekends, weekends where you would usually be by his side, making sure he was ready to drive. Instead he had to watch your navy blue stand out against the bright orange at McLaren. It didn’t suit you, being surrounded by papaya, Max thought.

He knew he could complain about it to Christian. He could use his power to make you come back to him, but in doing that he may end up hurting you or your job. So he sat quietly and let his annoyance fester inside him.

He could tell when things started to shift with your boyfriend. When your long hugs and visits to the McLaren garage turned into brushing shoulders and arguments in an empty walkway outside.

Max tries to ask about, tries to help make you feel better, but you shrug him off, telling him that you’ll work it out, it’s nothing but a rough patch.

He asks if you’re okay, if there’s anything he can do to help. You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders.

“There’s nothing you can do Max.”

He’s never felt so helpless in his life. He hates that he has to see your face with tear stains over it, that your smile has dimmed in the garage. That you no longer search him out for comfort.

Part of him thinks he should have a conversation with your boyfriend. He thinks he should give him a talking to about how he’s ruining someone so special. But he knows he’d probably end up throwing punches if your boyfriend ticked him off anymore than he already has.

You don’t seem to get any better as the season comes closer to an end. Max tries to help you open up to him again, asking if you have any plans over the winter break. He even invites you to join him on his trip back home to the Netherlands. He tells you that his mother and sister would love to have you with them during the holidays.

You frown, telling him that you planned on staying near Milton Keynes to do some work at the factory.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s winter break, I’m sure they can spare you for a little while.”

“I can’t take time off work just to hang out with you Max.” The words are much harsher than you mean for them to be, you can tell by the way Max takes a defensive step back.

He nods. “Right. Sorry.” Then he leaves you standing there to go to his driver’s room, or somewhere that just doesn’t have you.

Everything becomes clearer to Max at a party near the end of the season. It’s just after the Japan race, and Lando had insisted on celebrating the McLaren 2-3 as well as another tally to Max’s list of wins this season. The nightclub is filled with drivers as well as team members from each team hoping to let off some steam before the next race weekend.

Max doesn’t want to be there. He wants to go back to his hotel and sleep before he has to fly back home just to fly to Qatar a week later. But Lando and Charles keep putting new drinks in his hand, which promptly end up being left on random tables, and dragging him around to converse with everyone else that’s there.

He keeps an eye on you the whole time, watching as you wrap your arms around yourself, staring into the crowd on the dance floor. He can tell you aren’t really looking at them though, that you’re staring off into space. Your boyfriend comes up to sit on the stool next to you. He says something in your ear, to which you shake your head and leave, walking outside.

Max quickly pushes his latest drink into Charles’ hands and follows you outside.

You lean against the wall, attempting to get some fresh air after feeling a bit too claustrophobic in the club, but the heat doesn’t help as much as you hoped. You see Max as he steps outside and quickly walks to you.

“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing, because I know you, I know when you’re upset and you can’t hide it from me. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?” He asks, his words spilling out quickly.

“Max, it’s not you, it’s just-”

“Y/n! Come on, we can talk this through!” Your words are cut off by your boyfriend who looks around for you, the smile falling off his face when he spots Max standing next to you. “Are you fucking serious Y/n?” He storms over to you, and grabs your forearm, yanking you away from Max. “Always running back to Max, huh?”

You yelp when he roughly pulls you to him.

Max is quick to put himself between the two of you, pushing your boyfriend with just enough force to make him let go of you.

“Don’t touch her.” He snarls.

You already know how this is going to end. Max stares at your boyfriend with fire in his eyes. While Max isn’t quite as tall as him, he makes up for the height difference in his strength. He’s got enough muscle to knock him to the ground in seconds if he wanted to.

Anyone with half a brain would know they’re in dangerous territory, being on the receiving end of Max’s intense stare, but your boyfriend refuses to back down.

“She’s mine Verstappen. I can do whatever the fuck I want.” He says quietly, taunting Max.

That’s all it takes for the first swing to fly. You think it’s Max, but your boyfriend is quick to throw up his own fists in defense.

It’s a mess of navy blue and orange as the two end up rolling on the ground, throwing punch after punch. Max ends up on top, straddling your boyfriend, lifting his fist to swing. You grab his arm and pull him off and away from the fight. You catch a glimpse of your boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend’s bloody nose and black eye.

Max huffs, pulling his arm away from you and stalks towards his car. You follow him, practically jogging to keep up. You stop when you’re standing between him and the driver door. The lamplight illuminates his face. He’s got a bruise on his cheekbone, a split lip, his hair is a disheveled mess, and his fist is coated in blood, whose you aren’t sure. He’s avoiding eye contact with you, instead looking up at the sky.

“Max, why-”

“I’m fine.” He says when he finally looks at you. “Let me drive you back to the hotel.”

The drive back is quiet. You can’t help but keep looking over at Max, the streetlights passing by spread light over his face. He pulls a plain hoodie from the back of his car, pulling the hood up over his head. He keeps his down as he walks inside, attempting to avoid any interactions with fans that have decided to hang around the hotel.

He walks you to your door, then turns to leave, stopping only when he feels your fingers thread themselves through his. You gently pull him inside your room.

“Bathroom.” You tell him, steering him towards the small bathroom.

He sighs, knowing that there’s no use in trying to argue with you. He tugs the hoodie off and tosses it on your bed. He lifts himself up to sit on the counter of the bathroom, just next to the sink. There’s barely any room between where his legs hang off the counter and the wall opposite the sink, but you manage to squeeze between them with a small towel in your hand.

You run the towel under warm water, then bring it to his face, softly dabbing at his lip. He flinches slightly, pulling away. You apologize softly, then continue to wipe the blood from his lip.

You do the same with his hand, gently holding it in your hand and wiping away the red. It turns out to be mostly blood from your ex boyfriend, his skin only slightly bruised from the impact.

“You shouldn’t have hit him. You could’ve broken your hand. You wouldn’t have been able to drive.” You scold him quietly.

He gives you an incredulous look. “I should’ve done a lot more than hit him.”

You don’t answer, continuing to absentmindedly wipe at his hand. The blood is long gone, but he can tell you’re too lost in thought to notice.

He lifts your head up to look at him with his other hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.

You shake your head. “You heard him. Always running back to you?”

“I like it when you come to me.” He shifts slightly. “I mean, I like feeling like you can come to me for, well for anything really. You should’ve felt like you could’ve talked to me.” He drops his head down now.

You can tell he’s starting to close in on himself, that he feels somehow at fault for this. It’s your turn to lift his head up this time. His eyes are welled up with unshed tears. He tries to blink his tears away putting on a brave face for you.

You gently swipe your thumb under his eyes, then hold his cheeks in your hands.

“This is not your fault Max. It’s my fault. I let it get bad, I should’ve ended it a long time ago. I just have a talent for being self destructive I guess.” You let out an unconvincing laugh.

He leans into your touch, letting his eyes flutter closed.

After a few minutes you begrudgingly pull your hands away from Max. He immediately misses the warmth on his face.

“You should put some ice over your bruise.” You tell him.

You step back, giving him space to hop down from the counter. He stands over you, but his height is anything but daunting. He looks down at his now clean but bruised knuckles then back up at you.

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” You tell him.

He clears his throat then shuffles around you, back into the main part of your room. “I should probably go.”

You follow him, itching to give him a reason to stay.

He grabs his hoodie from your bed and walks back to your door. He opens it, ready to step through when you call his name. He turns back to see you standing near the door as well, shifting your weight on your feet.

You take a deep breath then throw caution to the wind. You take a quick two steps to him and press your lips to his cheek.

Max freezes, only regaining a semblance of composure when you pull away from him.

“Thank you Max. Really.” You smile.

He gives you a sheepish smile and a nod, his cheeks colored with a light pink blush.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Max.”

#max verstappen x reader #formula one x reader #mv33

2K notes · View notes

lisired · 2 months

Text

dress code

pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader

genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)

summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?

word count: 7.4k

a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

“Who are you thinking about?”

You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.

Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.

Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.

The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.

“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”

Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”

You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.

“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”

Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”

“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”

“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”

There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.

“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”

Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.

With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”

Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”

“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”

Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”

“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.

Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”

Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.

You knew how to complement your beauty as well.

As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.

Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.

Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.

“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”

“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.

Class was typical which was fine, you expected no prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.

As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.

You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.

Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.

Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.

Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.

“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”

That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.

“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.

Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”

One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.

“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.

When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.

For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.

There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.

“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.

Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”

Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”

“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.

Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.

“Holy shit,” you winced.

Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”

“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”

You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.

When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.

Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.

Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.

That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.

Nakamoto Yuta.

When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.

And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.

When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.

“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.

You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”

He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”

That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.

“The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.

Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.

“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”

You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”

In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.

The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires.

Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.

Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”

Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.

You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.

In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.

If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.

But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.

You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.

Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.

The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.

You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”

At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.

Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.

Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.

Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”

Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.

Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”

“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.

You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.

“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”

That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.

The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.

You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I…, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”

“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”

You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.

“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”

It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”

That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.

Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”

You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.

Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.

When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”

Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.

And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.

Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.

“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”

Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”

Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.

This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.

“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.

His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.

Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.

Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.

“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.

Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.

It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.

Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.

“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.

Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.

When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.

Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”

There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.

“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”

He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”

“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”

“Good. Come early.”

“How early?”

“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.

The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.

Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.

You couldn’t fucking wait.

Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.

You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.

Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.

The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.

You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”

“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”

Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.

“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”

There was no way you were strong enough for this.

Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.

To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.

Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.

Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.

“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”

Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.

It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.

Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.

And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.

Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.

And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.

There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn’t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.

That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.

“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.

Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.

“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”

As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.

It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.

Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.

All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.

Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”

In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.

The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.

“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”

When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.

He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.

“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.

Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”

Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.

Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.

And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.

It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.

After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.

You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”

“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.

“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”

It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.

In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.

You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.

“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.

Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”

Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”

“Say it again.”

“Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”

Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.

“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.

“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.

Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”

The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.

Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”

“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.

He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.

“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”

Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.

And in all honesty, you were fine with that.

#yuta smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #yuta x reader #nct imagines #yuta imagines #yuta nakamoto smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

647 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

Text

Amazon’s financial shell game let it create an “impossible” monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

For the pro-monopoly crowd that absolutely dominated antitrust law from the Carter administration until 2020, Amazon presents a genuinely puzzling paradox: the company's monopoly power was never supposed to emerge, and if it did, it should have crumbled immediately.

Pro-monopoly economists embody Ely Devons's famous aphorism that "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

Rather than using the way the world actually works as their starting point for how to think about it, they build elaborate models out of abstract principles like "rational actors." The resulting mathematical models are so abstractly elegant that it's easy to forget that they're just imaginative exercises, disconnected from reality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

These models predicted that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power. Even if they became a monopoly – in the sense of dominating sales of various kinds of goods – the company still wouldn't get monopoly power.

For example, if Amazon tried to take over a category by selling goods below cost ("predatory pricing"), then rivals could just wait until the company got tired of losing money and put prices back up, and then those rivals could go back to competing. And if Amazon tried to keep the loss-leader going indefinitely by "cross-subsidizing" the losses with high-margin profits from some other part of its business, rivals could sell those high margin goods at a lower margin, which would lure away Amazon customers and cut the supply lines for the price war it was fighting with its discounted products.

That's what the model predicted, but it's not what happened in the real world. In the real world, Amazon was able use its access to the capital markets to embark on scorched-earth predatory pricing campaigns. When diapers.com refused to sell out to Amazon, the company casually committed $100m to selling diapers below cost. Diapers.com went bust, Amazon bought it for pennies on the dollar and shut it down:

https://www.theverge.com/2019/5/13/18563379/amazon-predatory-pricing-antitrust-law

Investors got the message: don't compete with Amazon. They can remain predatory longer than you can remain solvent.

Now, not everyone shared the antitrust establishment's confidence that Amazon couldn't create a durable monopoly with market power. In 2017, Lina Khan – then a third year law student – published "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," a landmark paper arguing that Amazon had all the tools it needed to amass monopoly power:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

Today, Khan is chair of the FTC, and has brought a case against Amazon that builds on some of the theories from that paper. One outcome of that suit is an unprecedented look at Amazon's internal operations. But, as the Institute for Local Self-Reliance's Stacy Mitchell describes in a piece for The Atlantic, key pieces of information have been totally redacted in the court exhibits:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/amazon-profits-antitrust-ftc/677580/

The most important missing datum: how much money Amazon makes from each of its lines of business. Amazon's own story is that it basically breaks even on its retail operation, and keeps the whole business afloat with profits from its AWS cloud computing division. This is an important narrative, because if it's true, then Amazon can't be forcing up retail prices, which is the crux of the FTC's case against the company.

Here's what we know for sure about Amazon's retail business. First: merchants can't live without Amazon. The majority of US households have Prime, and 90% of Prime households start their ecommerce searches on Amazon; if they find what they're looking for, they buy it and stop. Thus, merchants who don't sell on Amazon just don't sell. This is called "monopsony power" and it's a lot easier to maintain than monopoly power. For most manufacturers, a 10% overnight drop in sales is a catastrophe, so a retailer that commands even a 10% market-share can extract huge concessions from its suppliers. Amazon's share of most categories of goods is a lot higher than 10%!

What kind of monopsony power does Amazon wield? Well, for one thing, it is able to levy a huge tax on its sellers. Add up all the junk-fees Amazon charges its platform sellers and it comes out to 45-51%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Competitive businesses just don't have 45% margins! No one can afford to kick that much back to Amazon. What is a merchant to do? Sell on Amazon and you lose money on every sale. Don't sell on Amazon and you don't get any business.

The only answer: raise prices on Amazon. After all, Prime customers – the majority of Amazon's retail business – don't shop for competitive prices. If Amazon wants a 45% vig, you can raise your Amazon prices by a third and just about break even.

But Amazon is wise to that: they have a "most favored nation" rule that punishes suppliers who sell goods more cheaply in rival stores, or even on their own site. The punishments vary, from banishing your products to page ten million of search-results to simply kicking you off the platform. With publishers, Amazon reserves the right to lower the prices they set when listing their books, to match the lowest price on the web, and paying publishers less for each sale.

That means that suppliers who sell on Amazon (which is anyone who wants to stay in business) have to dramatically hike their prices on Amazon, and when they do, they also have to hike their prices everywhere else (no wonder Prime customers don't bother to search elsewhere for a better deal!).

Now, Amazon says this is all wrong. That 45-51% vig they claim from business customers is barely enough to break even. The company's profits – they insist – come from selling AWS cloud service. The retail operation is just a public service they provide to us with cross-subsidy from those fat AWS margins.

This is a hell of a claim. Last year, Amazon raked in $130 billion in seller fees. In other words: they booked more revenue from junk fees than Bank of America made through its whole operation. Amazon's junk fees add up to more than all of Meta's revenues:

https://s2.q4cdn.com/299287126/files/doc_financials/2023/q4/AMZN-Q4-2023-Earnings-Release.pdf

Amazon claims that none of this is profit – it's just covering their operating expenses. According to Amazon, its non-AWS units combined have a one percent profit margin.

Now, this is an eye-popping claim indeed. Amazon is a public company, which means that it has to make thorough quarterly and annual financial disclosures breaking down its profit and loss. You'd think that somewhere in those disclosures, we'd find some details.

You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Amazon's disclosures do not break out profits and losses by segment. SEC rules actually require the company to make these per-segment disclosures:

https://scholarship.law.stjohns.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3524&context=lawreview#:~:text=If%20a%20company%20has%20more,income%20taxes%20and%20extraordinary%20items.

That rule was enacted in 1966, out of concern that companies could use cross-subsidies to fund predatory pricing and other anticompetitive practices. But over the years, the SEC just…stopped enforcing the rule. Companies have "near total managerial discretion" to lump business units together and group their profits and losses in bloated, undifferentiated balance-sheet items:

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/public-purpose/publications/2021/dec/crouching-tiger-hidden-dragons

As Mitchell points you, it's not just Amazon that flouts this rule. We don't know how much money Google makes on Youtube, or how much Apple makes from the App Store (Apple told a federal judge that this number doesn't exist). Warren Buffett – with significant interest in hundreds of companies across dozens of markets – only breaks out seven segments of profit-and-loss for Berkshire Hathaway.

Recall that there is one category of data from the FTC's antitrust case against Amazon that has been completely redacted. One guess which category that is! Yup, the profit-and-loss for its retail operation and other lines of business.

These redactions are the judge's fault, but the real fault lies with the SEC. Amazon is a public company. In exchange for access to the capital markets, it owes the public certain disclosures, which are set out in the SEC's rulebook. The SEC lets Amazon – and other gigantic companies – get away with a degree of secrecy that should disqualify it from offering stock to the public. As Mitchell says, SEC chairman Gary Gensler should adopt "new rules that more concretely define what qualifies as a segment and remove the discretion given to executives."

Amazon is the poster-child for monopoly run amok. As Yanis Varoufakis writes in Technofeudalism, Amazon has actually become a post-capitalist enterprise. Amazon doesn't make profits (money derived from selling goods); it makes rents (money charged to people who are seeking to make a profit):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profits are the defining characteristic of a capitalist economy; rents are the defining characteristic of feudalism. Amazon looks like a bazaar where thousands of merchants offer goods for sale to the public, but look harder and you discover that all those stallholders are totally controlled by Amazon. Amazon decides what goods they can sell, how much they cost, and whether a customer ever sees them. And then Amazon takes $0.45-51 out of every dollar. Amazon's "marketplace" isn't like a flea market, it's more like the interconnected shops on Disneyland's Main Street, USA: the sign over the door might say "20th Century Music Company" or "Emporium," but they're all just one store, run by one company.

And because Amazon has so much control over its sellers, it is able to exercise power over its buyers. Amazon's search results push down the best deals on the platform and promote results from more expensive, lower-quality items whose sellers have paid a fortune for an "ad" (not really an ad, but rather the top spot in search listings):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

This is "Amazon's pricing paradox." Amazon can claim that it offers low-priced, high-quality goods on the platform, but it makes $38b/year pushing those good deals way, way down in its search results. The top result for your Amazon search averages 29% more expensive than the best deal Amazon offers. Buy something from those first four spots and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average, you need to pick the seventeenth item on the search results page to get the best deal:

https://scholarship.law.bu.edu/faculty_scholarship/3645/

For 40 years, pro-monopoly economists claimed that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power over buyers and sellers. Today, Amazon exercises that power so thoroughly that its junk-fee revenues alone exceed the total revenues of Bank of America. Amazon's story – that these fees barely stretch to covering its costs – assumes a nearly inconceivable level of credulity in its audience. Regrettably – for the human race – there is a cohort of senior, highly respected economists who possess this degree of credulity and more.

Of course, there's an easy way to settle the argument: Amazon could just comply with SEC regs and break out its P&L for its e-commerce operation. I assure you, they're not hiding this data because they think you'll be pleasantly surprised when they do and they don't want to spoil the moment.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

Image: Doc Searls (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/docsearls/4863121221/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

591 notes · View notes

campbell-rose · 5 months

Text

Alastor Redesign

Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted.

Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue.

I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic.

If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows.

I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol.

Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #alastor the radio demon

566 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 5 months

Note

Hii! I hope you're having a nice day or night I would like to request Skz reacting to their idol!s/o performing on MAMA Awards with a very cool and dark concept with their own group, something similar to Itzy's 2021 Mama performance or (G)I-DLE's MMA 2022 performance? Ty!!!

s/o performing on MAMA with dark concept ♡

author's note. thank u for the req!! i hope u like the outcome ^^ i tried my best, i added some like,, solo stage moments??

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

so so so soooo proud

staring at you in awe all the time like,, with all due respect to your members – he’s mesmerized

not only by your beauty, duh but your outfit is something that he just can’t help but stare

he’s extremely proud because he knew how nervous you were before the performance

but oh dude when you drop a diss at mama

the kids look at him in shock but he didn’t know either

the mischievous look in your eye makes him even more mesmerized

after the performance chan mentions it, not to make people suspect anything

"the performances were really, really good. personally, i enjoyed the dark ones"

mhm we all know which specific one !!

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

minho is as anxious as you — it’s first time performing such a dark concept and you’re going to have a solo in it

he knew it since he helped you practice

hence why he’s nervous. not to get him wrong, he knows you’ll slay but it’s a hard dance break

he gets chills the second you enter the stage, a powerful walk along your members

the performance is smooth-sailing and then there’s time for your solo

and keeping it short: you destroyed the stage

minho couldn’t be more proud, especially that you were on everyone’s lips in the industry even weeks after mama

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

mf can’t sit still in one place when he knows it’s your turn perform

his members have to calm him down 😭

you wouldn’t tell him what’s the concept – only that it’s dark and cool concept

he mouths the lyrics of the song, amazed by the stage and outfits

he’s kind of disappointed when it’s over and light go out

but then boom, suddenly there’s a light shining on you and your leader

changbin frowns, not sure what’s happening – and suddenly you have a solo stage, performing a quite sexy dance to tease your next album 🫣

(the members have to tug his clothes to remind him to close his mouth)

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

he’s more excited than you 😭

asks you to send pics of your outfit and makes up and everything !!

absolutely stunned once you enter the stage w your members, dark and elegant suits on

he was sure that you told him everything mhmm

but when suddenly your members run up to you and seem to rip your clothes, he lets out a loud gasp (drawing attention from the idols nearby)

and suddenly there’s a reveal of gold shimmering dress underneath, your maknae putting a crown on your head

he’s so so confused but loves it, his inner artist is buzzing with excitement how to capture that on canvas once he’s home

and he grabs onto chan with tight grip when you hint the next album name, pointing at the crown

be ready to have a lecture ehh didn’t you spoil anything!! why he didn’t know!! and how proud he is<3

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

flustered babyyyyy >.<

he thought it’s a cute concept because your latest album was lovey-dovey

but his mouth falls agape as soon as a mysterious melody reaches his ears and two of your members come in, dressed head to toe in black elegant outfits

he noticed there’s a ?? small podium ?? but didn’t pay any attention to it once you joined your members on stage, also dressed in a mind-blowing dark dress with silver jewelry

you performed one of your popular songs and then three of your members had a cute solo stage, a dance break with a song from your newest album

but the music got cut and the light focused on you, smokey makeup and… fake blood on your face?

you jumped from the podium (like that one wony stage hehe) and your members formed a regular ending position with screens hinting that’s a beginning of new era

dude was speechless and for a moment forgot he’s an idol,, fanboying over his cool n badass gf ^^

(all the fansites thought its adorable meanwhile his member were giggling at him hehe)

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

woah there do you want him (and your fans) dead??

you haven’t spoiled anything to him and now he’s shocked, flustered, amused, amazed and all the other things at once ;; his brain is going 28202729 km per hour like!!

because goddamn you look so hot in such concept…!

and when you start rapping at your solo stage, throwing a snarky comment at mama there and here

felix is just blushing and giggling like a teenage girl,, but also he’s kind of feeling intimidated by your sudden powerful aura

not that he minds tho~

will fight the haters of ur performance if he sees any, literally defending you like a lioness defends her cubs (on anon accs tho lol)

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

to be honest your performance is the only reason why he’s at mama …

he knew how excited you were abt it, saying it’s gonna tease your next comeback

so naturally, he was intrigued

but he wasn’t expecting that

you literally owned the stage,, all of your members too ofc

but there was just something so fresh seeing you in a dark concept with smokey makeup,, kicking a prop chair and loosening your tie…

he was stunned!!!

and seungmin couldn’t help but feel the overflowing sense of pride that it’s his girl right here, catching everyone’s attention

( especially after you cursed in a part of a song that was supposed to be censored )

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

this man almost made you spoil the whole performance for him 😭😭

he’s just as excited as you are, buzzing with excitement

he was even squeezing chan’s hand once you entered the stage

everything was so enchanting – the rock version of your newest song, the mysterious background, dark and elegant outfits

when suddenly a backup dancer handed you a guitar

and you had an electric guitar solo, the accessories you had shimmering in the light

literally everyone was focused at you and your skills, jeongin staring in awe and mouth hanging open

( he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that “that’s my gf y’all!!” but sadly he couldn’t !!!? <\\3 )

after the solo you joined your members in finishing the choreography,,, he even missed the big spoiler for the next album that your main rapper did in the choreo

bc he was so so focused at you,, he could see how proud you were

and so was he!! expect a lot of kisses n praises after the performance!!

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08

495 notes · View notes

bella-goths-wife · 1 month

Note

How would the Vees reaction to their pet falling to stockholm syndrome? Do they loose interest, do they become more obsessive, does this make them act out more to try and gain more control? So many questions!

Yandere Vs reaction to pet reader falling to Stockholm syndrome

Warnings: Valentino, abuse, punishments, verbal abuse, pushing boundaries

I think it all depends on in what way the Stockholm Syndrome presents itself

If it meant that you becoming less hesitant about doing what they asked and being more submissive while still retaining your personality and keeping your humanity in tact, they would adore it

They would instantly become more obsessive over you, because the lack of resistance would mean that they would get more pieces of you than before

They’d get to experience a certain vulnerability with you, and it would make them feel powerful to know what a command they have over you

I mean, you actually look at them with affection now

You’ve accepted your respective role as their daughter figure/pet/personal entertainment

And this would cause many more fights over who could have you for the day

They have an established schedule put in place for you because at the start of you working there, there would be many times when one of them would interrupt you when you were working with another one and steal you away

So they made a schedule that is only allowed to be disobeyed for punishments or emergencies

But after you become less resistant to your role, they’ll all want to spend every moment with you

So one will interrupt another one’s day with you and cause an argument over you

But Vox will quickly fix this by updating the schedule to suit these needs and forcing you to spend more time with them outside of the working hours

However, if Stockholm syndrome caused you to be more submissive while also loosing your personality they would absolutely hate it

Sure they love that your following orders, but your not filling their social or entertainment needs while doing so

They wanted you less resistant, but they didn’t want to completely break you

You wouldn’t fulfil your role as their pet, your just an emotionless puppet who cleans up after them

They will do anything they can to bring out your personality again

At first it was bribing you with things that are seen as rule breaking, such as offering you time outside the tower without them or being let out past curfew

But you didn’t want to leave without them, you said that you couldn’t break the rules

So they started leaving situations for rule breaks out for you to try and coax your spirit back, like leaving food your not allowed to eat out or pushing you to spend alone time with someone they knew you were physically attracted to

But you’d leave the food and always kept it professional with your old crush

So they turned to punishments

They went through voxs punishments, and nothing

And then velvettes, still nothing

And finally Valentino’s punishments, and still nothing

They even did all there punishments combined when they became desperate, but you just accepted it and asked how you could improve your work for next time

They gave up, they couldn’t do it anymore

They still somewhat cared for you, in their own sick ways

So they wouldn’t completely lose interest, your very presence would be enough to keep some interest going

And your useful, so they would keep you around and they don’t move you out from their floor of the tower to the employees floors because they still have some care for you

And sometimes they will all come in for some affection from you, although it isn’t as fun for some of them anymore

Even though your still useful, they keep you around kinda like you’d keep the extremely old dog that can’t care for itself anymore because they were passed on to you

Your just no fun for them anymore, but that doesn’t mean they can’t keep you around for when they feel the need to hurt or hold someone

Tag list so far :)

@buttercupfangirl @the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @repostingmyfavs

319 notes · View notes

cobaltperun · 2 months

Text

Woe out the Storm (9) - Hard Comes the Rain

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 2.5k

-You pray for the storm of your life, it's over and nothing survived-

This school year was officially turning into the biggest mess you had ever experienced. Oversized Gollum-looking monster that killed a bunch of people, finding out from Wednesday that Weems was a shapeshifter who had no issues with covering up Rowan’s murder, and now this ominous message burnt onto school grounds.

Fire will rain.

There had to be more to it than that.

Let it never be said Wednesday was the only one who could sneak in and out of some secure place. And your methods were more suited for what you were aiming to do.

You were sitting in a tree, close to one of the open windows of the mayor’s office. There was probably someone there, so you’d need to do this quickly. Just go in and out, and if you can’t get what you need in fifteen to twenty minutes, try again tomorrow. You stabbed a knife into the branch, one of the knives you didn’t mind losing and jumped down, using a small burst of lightning to slow down your fall. When you landed you sent some electricity through the ground, searching for electrical wires, you wouldn’t damage them, you’d just use them to cut the power at the very source.

A drop of sweat slid down your face. It was difficult to locate the wires, to recognize what was your electricity and what wasn’t. And you needed to stay in control and not fry the wires. You took several deep breaths, focusing as hard as you could and finally, after what felt like eternity, you found it, the steady current going toward the building. That was the hardest part.

With a bit of a smirk, you sent your own electricity toward the power source and disrupted it, cutting off the power in the entire building, you would have cut the power off for entire block to make it less suspicious, but you didn’t have that kind of control.

Well, more optimal solutions aside, you accomplished what you were after. You zapped to the knife in the tree and tossed another one through the open window, zapping inside. For once you allowed the beast within you to somewhat come out as your eyes turned red and your vision cleared, the darkness around you was no longer an issue. Perks of your primary beast being what it was.

You broke into the archive, making sure to make as little sound as possible as you did that, and powered the computer on with your electricity. Your eyes narrowed as you forcefully bypassed the security. This was why you were so focused on learning all about technology you could, with your powers and knowledge you were a human hacker, capable of breaking into any device you were familiar with, regardless of passcodes or any other protections. With full access to the PC you began searching through the files, starting with Crackstone. There wasn’t anything there, at least not anything you didn’t already know. So, you went with another tactic.

Garrett Gates, dead family, the mansion that was long abandoned but recently bought by some woman. None of this was helping you, at all. You should have brought Wednesday with you somehow, maybe she could have seen something in this mess of information.

“Come on, it’s an old family, surely someone wrote some kind of book about it?” you muttered, already anxiously searching for Garrett’s grandparents or someone even further back. Nothing, it was as if one of Jericho’s oldest families just vanished from records older than a century ago and you weren’t sure if it was them specifically or if it was just in general. No books, no records, the only new information was the existence of their mansion, which you could have figured out without extra effort.

As the last ditch effort you wrote ‘Fire will rain’ and all of a sudden something strange began happening, it was as if something was disrupting you, as if there was a security in place that was specifically meant to stop a raiju or someone else capable of using lightning from getting into the system.

“Shit!” you cursed, turning the computer off and running outside, no longer caring if someone working here would catch you. You didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but just for a moment you felt as if you could sense the danger, as if you were on a timer and needed to get away as soon as possible, otherwise you’d be in way over your head. You reached the window you came in through and were about to zap to the knife in the tree when you froze and ducked. Someone was in the tree, right where your knife was.

That figure, it didn’t feel human, it didn’t feel like you were looking at some outcast, just one glimpse was enough to freeze you on the spot. It didn’t matter that staying near the window made you vulnerable, that it was the obvious entry point for you, none of that mattered. You just couldn’t move.

Your heart hammered in your chest, there was nothing you could do, to escape or protect yourself. Somehow, despite only catching the glimpse of that figure you knew not even shifting into your beast form would help. You were at the mercy of whatever was in the tree, you couldn’t even pull out your phone to apologize to your parents for being reckless, you could just sit there and wait.

And then the tension vanished, but so did your knife. And the power was back on. You dared to look outside and the moment you did that you were met with completely blue eyes staring down at you, no pupils, nothing, not even the sclera was white, everything was pale blue. Before you could even begin to understand what was going on; before you could even take in any other features of the one in front of you, you were struck by pain and slammed into a wall. There wasn’t even a sound, there was nothing, just pain, excruciating pain you couldn’t endure.

~X~

Wednesday was always a light sleeper, though she learnt how to ignore certain sounds in the middle of the night. A loud thud against the wall and a body dropping to the floor was one of those sounds. Thing frantically tapping her arm wasn’t something she could ignore though. Especially when he insisted on repeating your name in Morse code.

“What?” she didn’t appreciate being woken up, and it didn’t sound like you were losing control over yourself. But Thing was persistent, so she opened her eyes and sat up. Due to Enid’s excessively colorful side of the window Wednesday couldn’t see it quite clearly, but she could swear she saw a body lying there. Thing jumped from her bed and ran outside, turning around just once to make sure Wednesday was following him.

Surely it wasn’t you, right?

But it was you.

You were right there, unconscious and lying on the cold stone of the balcony. “Y/N,” she touched your neck to make sure you were alive, only to be struck by a vision. It was just flashes this time, chilling completely blue eyes, a shadowy figure in the tree, being thrown against the wall, and then nothing. Wednesday almost gasped, both due to the vision and the realization that you were alive.

What were you doing? How did you get into this situation? Wednesday didn’t know, all she knew was that she needed you to wake up, because carrying you and risking another vision wasn’t something she wanted to deal with. So, she shook you slightly, ignoring how the grunt of pain you let out didn’t sound as good as she hoped it would. Not when she wasn’t the one that caused it. No one else should have that right and whoever did this, sooner or later she’d get her revenge.

“Y/N,” she spoke again as you blinked a few times. You looked disoriented, in pain, and barely aware of where you were, and then your eyes widened and you frantically looked around, jumping to your feet, and pulling Wednesday behind you before she could even realize what was happening.

“What? Where is that?!” you were looking for whatever or whoever attacked you, and there was no doubt in Wednesday’s mind that you were instinctively making sure you were between her and whatever danger you were worried about.

“Calm down, we’re alone,” she assured you, but you didn’t listen, still stuck between flight and fight response. “Y/N,” she tried with your name and that reached you as you let out a shuddering breath and calmed down enough to turn around and look at Wednesday. “Can you walk alone?” she asked and though wide-eyed you nodded slowly.

You didn’t move and Wednesday realized you were waiting for her to get inside first. With a heavy sigh she did exactly that. A thought came to her mind, entirely related to the information her mother revealed to her. About that generational bond between her family and raiju.

As far as Wednesday was concerned this, from your interaction with Wednesday to this apparent protectiveness, simply wasn’t your choice. You couldn’t help it if her being an Addams made you drawn to her. That would certainly explain your behavior toward her, your acceptance of who she was. She was different, she was stronger than some curse that brought the two of you together, she knew about it, she wasn’t influenced by it. Every experience she had with you was of her own free will, and so was this. If a raiju was meant to die for an Addams, it certainly wouldn’t be you dying for her.

No matter the consequences of that choice.

And that decision was even more definitive now that you came back from wherever you were like this. Clearly in pain, though without visible injuries, and attacked for something she was almost certain had something to do with her and/or her investigation.

Even she could see how distraught you were, but there was nothing she could do other than lead you to your part of the room, only guide you to your bed until you went through the motions and got on the bed. You were anxious, still focused on perceived danger and frantic and Wednesday had to do something about it. As you were, you wouldn’t go to sleep, and she had no patience or will to deal with that right now. So, she did the next best thing and struck a pressure point on your neck before you could react.

As Wednesday watched your unconscious form she found herself biting her lower lip, angry and frustrated at what just transpired.

~X~

You were alive.

Somehow.

When you woke up the next morning the first sight you saw was Wednesday sitting at the bottom of your bed, reading a book with Thing dutifully staying next to her.

“How bad was it? Since you are sitting here?” you couldn’t help but ask, revealing to her and Thing that you just woke up. Wednesday didn’t move, she didn’t even look at you and that made you even more worried. “Wednesday?” you remembered how disoriented and afraid you were, how you followed her, frightened that whatever attacked you would come back and that she’d get hurt too if that happened. Was that really enough for this kind of reaction from her?

Thing jumped to your side and asked you how you were feeling.

You smiled a bit, bringing your fist up to fist bump him. “I’ll be fine, Thing,” and you would be, the pain from last night was mostly gone. Being a raiju meant you had a higher than average tolerance to pain and that you healed faster than normies and most outcasts as well.

Wednesday just stood up and went to her bed, not even looking at you in the process. You sighed softly and glanced at Thing. You thought he’d just shrug, keeping Wednesday’s secrets under lock and key, but he didn’t. He openly told you she was worried and that she spent the night watching over you, that the lack of pain had a lot to do with the medicine she injected you with and you just leaned your head back into the pillow and nodded.

You made Wednesday worried and had nothing to show for it. All you accomplished was getting caught and hurt.

~X~

Two days later Enid approached you while Wednesday was tending to Eugene’s bees and the two of you were alone in your room with an idea you would have loved, if there wasn’t one tiny detail that made you refuse.

“Come on, it’s Wednesday’s birthday and there’s no better place for her!” Enid tried to persuade you.

“I agree, that’s the perfect place for Wednesday’s surprise birthday party, but, there’s a lake I need to get across and I’m not doing that,” you were absolutely never going to give in and approach that lake. Or any other bigger body of water. Not even for Wednesday.

“Y/N, come on! If you aren’t there there’s fifty percent higher chance she won’t even tolerate it!” Enid kept trying, as stubborn as she always was.

You sighed. “No, not even for Wednesday,” besides, you had a feeling Wednesday would hate the surprise either way. She barely spoke to Xavier, and you were fairly sure she never spoke with Yoko, or Ajax and whoever else Enid was going to convince to join. Frankly, you and Enid were the only ones whose presence at Wednesday’s surprise birthday party was understandable. “Besides, she is going to hate it either way,” you pointed out.

“Well, maybe she will, but I will show her that she is appreciated and accepted!” and you thought Enid’s reasons and way of thinking were perfectly reasonable and something most people would appreciate, but that was the thing about Wednesday, she didn’t need to feel like she was appreciated or accepted, she was the one in complete control.

Besides, you were still shaken by what happened at the mayor’s office building. At the end of the day you owed Wednesday for taking care of you. And you weren’t about to repay her with a surprise party, even if it was for her birthday. You’d wish her a happy birthday the morning of her birthday and you’d hand her the gift you’ve more or less had ready ever since you took Wednesday’s knife.

Frankly, you were just glad that knife remained in your possession, unlike the knife you left in that damn tree.

“I really can’t convince you?” Enid tried, hopefully, for the last time.

“You really can’t. I’m not getting close to that much water, no matter what,” you stood your ground. It wouldn’t matter what the reason was, you just, plain and simple, wouldn’t risk falling into water, no matter how safe the transportation was.

Not even for Wednesday.

A/N: Well, there’s chapter 9, a bit short, but I feel like I accomplished what I was after. Honestly, I’m gambling on that line from Laurel, that it’s a part of the bigger game or whatever she said, paying off and blindly adding to that part of the plot. Will it work out? Well, I hope it will. Worst case scenario I can use ‘wrong people’ line from Bianca’s mom as an explanation. Oh, well, we’ll see when season 2 comes out.

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #enid sinclair #jenna ortega x reader

151 notes · View notes

sp00kworm · 4 months

Text

One Word

Pairing: Enchanted Armour/Knight (Sir Jurdanus Dawling) x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, Fantasy Violence

Summary: An Enchanted Knight finds you amidst a mushroom circle and your life is never the same after.

Rain dripped down the back of your neck as you flopped onto the mossy floor. There was no way out of a mushroom circle. They were carefully laid traps, hidden behind roots and dotted in intricate patterns which made them hard to predict. Whatever Fae had hidden this one was powerful indeed. The mushrooms were like iron and the small pebbles between skipped upwards at your face when you attempted to break the circle. Your fingers were numb from trying to force them between the littler mushrooms. It was impenetrable, and eventually you would be food for the Fae who wanted to steal you away. There was some Fae that didn’t eat mortals, but those were far and few between. The only thing you could do was try and think of deals you could try to trick the creature which came to collect you. If it took them longer than a few more days, you would be dead anyway. There was an odd comfort in that. You wouldn’t be subjected to the whims of whatever the Fae decided to do with you. The other hope was someone stumbling along your path, but few would be able to taint the Fae circle enough to let you free, and you didn’t have much you could offer them anyway.

How many more hours would you last, you wondered? Defeated, you cradled your hand and sat inside the circle, massaging the tender joints as you watched the sun move overhead. It was nearly evening time, the sun was beginning to set along the horizon, threatening the sky with orange and pink. The trees rustled and birds sang their evening tunes as you picked at the pebbles around you and flicked them against the ward. The pebbles pinged back at you like a game, and for a time it was entertaining. Sodden moss wet your bottom and you tried to ignore the wetness on your backside, sitting on the moss in favour of the agony of sitting on several rocks. The old trees creaked in the wind, and you removed your satchel to look at the mushrooms and herbs you had managed to collect before getting stuck.

Suddenly, the whole woodland went quiet. No animal made a murmur as the wind continued to blow gently through the leaves. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, waving with the wind as there was a great ‘thunk’ in the distance. The heavy clunk of armour thudded along the winding path between the old, twisted trees. The blood in your limbs went cold and your heart leaped into your throat. You stood up again and watched down the old dirt path as a great, heavy suit of armour rounded the corner. The armour was maybe six and a half feet tall, and the heavy cloak fastened about the shoulders made it all the more imposing. The steel was stained with black carbon, and the details were once orange copper. The details were green in most places but the emblem in the centre of the chassis, once bright, was a Swan, swooping upwards towards the sky, its neck bowed gracefully. There was a crown around its neck, resting on the top of where its wings were spread. The Knight rounded the trees closest to you, his armour clanking before he stood, the visor fixed on you trapped in the circle of mushrooms.

“Sir!” You shouted, “Please could you help me out of this faery circle?”

The Knight tilted his head, watching you carefully as his other hand not rested on the trunk of the oak, reach for his sword. He had two on his back, strapped underneath the great fur cloak which lined his shoulders. Watching him reach for the sword you panicked and reached for your bag, attempting to find something which would prove you were not Fae.

“Please, Sir...” You rummaged, throwing the pouches of weeds and herbs you had collected before you dragged out a small iron link you had found. You clenched it between your hands and showed him your skin, “Please... I’m no Fae. I got trapped here while foraging. I promise!”

The Knight looked at the link before he thundered over, the dark metal of his armour glimmering in the setting sun. The copper detailing was sickly green, almost falling off, and his neck piece squeaked with rust as he drew the long sword from his back. He turned his stance and looked at the mushrooms before there was a rattle through the armour and his hand reached forwards to where the magical barrier lay. The barrier rippled under his hand, the magic caving like a bubble, but still resisting. With another shuddering rattle the Knight grasped his sword by the hilt and stabbed it forwards. The warding screamed as the blade burst through the magic, sending sparks flying as he heaved the iron through it, to the floor. When he reached the floor, the Knight turned the blade swiftly and severed several of the mushroom caps. The barrier faded with a hiss and just like that, you were free.

You tried not to gawp as the Knight sheathed his weapon and stood back, resting his hands on his hips. You quickly hopped out of the circle and sighed with relief as you collected your items. When you finished you looked back at the Knight.

“Thank you, Sir...” You asked, wondering what the Knight’s name was. He probably had a House Name.

The Knight shuddered inside his armour again before the joints clicked and a voice echoed inside, “Sir... Sir, S-Sir...” He couldn’t seem to say his name.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, “Sir?”

Again the voice echoed from inside, “Sir...Sir...”

You frowned softly at him before daring to reach for the visor which covered his eyes. He let you grasp the metal, subdued and quiet.

“Here let me open this so you can...” You said before tugging the visor. It remained firmly shut. With a grunt you tugged it hard. It stayed down, as though it was glued.

The pieces fell into place then, and you let your hands fall to his broad shoulders. You fisted the fur. It was well cared for but old and holes had opened in the bottom of the soft leather upper. The crest wad old, battered and stained.

“You’re cursed aren’t your?” You asked as you stood flat footed again on the woodland floor.

The Knight nodded his head and tapped the crest in the centre of his chest. There was the house crest and a small moto painted intricately underneath.

“Alte Volant”

“I’m no specialist but this is definitely noble house armour... but, well I guess I could help you, as thanks for helping me?” You offered with a shaky sigh.

The Enchanted Knight nodded, his neck squeaking a little, and offered a hand to you. You looked down and then realised he was offering to carry your bags. Carefully you gave him the larger of the two and kept your satchel.

As your bag landed in his gauntlet, the air fizzed and a blue skinned Fae stepped out from a tree, their eight eyes twitching at the sight of the broken circle. Quickly, you whipped around, but the Knight was faster. The Fae span with another hiss of fury, her hands raised, crackling with blue magic as the tree roots curled violently under the woodland floor. As she clenched her teeth, magic shot from her, and the Knight grabbed his shield from his back, the great steel plated with old iron. He dragged you behind him in a flash as the bolt clanged against the shield and dissipated like water, falling as mist f. The Fae hissed again her body morphing into the trees as she skittered around and observed you both through one great black eye.

“A suit of armour playing Knight.” She gloated, “You died a long time ago, Knight!” She hung from the tree and reached her scales fingers for his helmet, “Iron is unbecoming. Iron is cheating.”

Instead of an answer, he sliced her fingers off with a strike of his blade and pushed forwards. The Fae screamed, and you covered your ears, watching as the Knight slammed her head against his shield then again, with a downwards arch, sending the Fae flying against the floor. There was a great screech before the iron blade sliced through her neck. You jumped as blue blood spurted up the trees and shook behind a trunk as the Knight wiped his blade with a clump or moss. He looked up and reclined his head at you. Without him, you would be dead.

You took a deep breath, “Come on, let’s get out of the woods.” You beckoned him to follow you as you grabbed your bags and made your way down the path. The thump of heavy armour behind you was the only indication you had of the Knight following you.

Luckily, your home was on the outskirts of town, tucked against the woods you had just been trapped in. The stone cottage had smoke billowing out of the chimney still, so that was a good sign that the cottage would be warm still. You opened the gates and looked back at the Knight following you. He paused by the gate and stared for a moment at the small, cobbled path to your home before he stepped inside the garden and waited again. You looked at the blue blood which had stained his armour before closing the gate and leading him inside to your home. The door creaked a little as you let the hunk of armour inside and you closed it firmly before turning the key in the lock and heading to the hearth. As you stirred the hearth the Knight stood by the table looking up at the dried plants and flowers.

“Come and sit down, I don’t know of you can still feel the cold, but it’ll at least be better than standing by the door.” You waved him over before getting a damp cloth from the kitchen area for him to clean the blood off himself. Graciously he reclined his head and placed a gauntlet over his chest. He began carefully cleaning the blood from the grooves of the paint.

While he cleaned himself you placed a couple of logs onto the stirred flames and looked into the ashes. Sat at the back of the hearth was the charcoal coloured egg you had found so long ago. It was a dragon egg. Abandoned or stolen, you didn’t know, but there was life in it as it wiggled gently and soaked in the heat of the new fire. The Knight caught your gaze and peered at the wobbling egg in fascination. A disapproving grunt was his only comment.

“Yes, I know. But I couldn’t leave it to die with the Fae.” You reasoned softly as you emptied your bag onto your work surface. The Knight shook his head but continued his work.

“How about we look for your crest? I have an old history book somewhere, and it has most of the noble houses in it.” You offered.

His visor turned slightly but he made no effort to tell you he wanted to have a look. Ignoring his silence, you went to get the book.

The book was very old. Your great, great grandmother had taken it before the great collapse. Many of the old houses no longer existed, after the revolution, but a few still remained in the far reaches of the country. You wondered just how long this Knight had been wandering. With a thud you placed the book on the table and leafed through to the catalogue of old house emblems. There were around a hundred, and you took a breath before beginning to scan for the old, battered coat of arms which was printed onto his chest plate. A swan in flight. It was a regal link. The Knight had maybe been close to the Queen before the collapse and that was many years ago. He could have been cursed a long time.

“Edelwyn… nope that’s a tree. Oakenfast… no that’s an acorn. Unicorn… a hare. That’s a peacock…” You turned the pages as the Knight creaked next to the fire, warming the leathers of his skirts before he began to brush the dirt from his cape with a hard brush. His weapons were next and you watched him for a moment as he pulled out carefully stored oils and cloths and began to meticulously clean the Fae blood from the iron. A few more pages revealed nothing until a crown appeared.

“Well, we might be down the right track, Sir!” You cheered as you reached for the kettle and filled it from a pail of water. Once it was over the fire you fetched the book and sat in the other chair on the large, overstuffed pillows. You looked at the crest on his chest again and hummed, flicking between three pages before you found it.

“Dawling!” You cried out as you hopped out of the chair and showed the Knight the book. The crest on his chest was penned beautifully with inks of good quality. You beamed at his helmet as you pointed at the crowned swan.

With a faint creak of metal, the knight reached up to take the book from your outstretched hands. There was the faint sound of wheezing breathing through the visor of his helmet as he touched the page with the crest and then carefully, like he was caressing a baby bird, traced the letters of his family name.

“Dawling was the closest family to the Queen.” You told him quietly, “Before the revolution the Dawling family were the last near her and all of them were said to have perished when they burned the castle in the North.”

With a soft nod he looked over the small descriptive notes, his armour flexing gently with tension.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth…” You offered a gentle hand to him.

He said nothing but you watched him reach up, his fingers twitching. The metal of his gauntlets was cold against your skin but smooth and well looked after. Warmth enveloped his fingers from your skin and the Knight peered up at you. His visor was shined and as he put the book down you saw a faint glow behind the slats. Behind the metal there were two haunting eyes. The blue eyes glimmered before disappearing again into the darkness of the armour. Wisps of light trailed out of his neck.

“Would you like anything?” You asked as you patted his hand.

The knight shook his head as he looked back at the dancing flames.

“I suppose now I have to call you Sir Dawling!” You joked as you let go of his hand, “I wonder who put this curse on you though…I suppose we will never know now, but you can stay here a while if you like?” You offered.

Sir Dawling turned to look at you and nodded his confirmation, the flames reflecting patterns over his armour.

“I’ll make you the spare room up then.” With a smile you went to collect some linens but you were stopped by Dawling standing by the fire shaking his head, pointing to the sunset in the sky. With a confused stare you followed him towards the door and watched as he stood by the door, collecting his weapons.

“Can you not sleep?” You asked as he packed his weapons. He shook his head again and then made the shape of a butterfly which his armoured hands. When that didn’t work, he pointed to the blue blood which remained on his shield.

“The Fae? I doubt they would come this far out of the woods and beside they can’t get in here without invitation.” You soothed, but Sir Dawling shook his head and insisted, opening the door. He closed it behind him, his leathers squeaking a little as he sat outside the door on a small log. You looked through the glass of the window as he took his whetstone out and continued to work his blades. It seemed as though he was to stand guard. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep? He was after all, cursed. With a sigh you went to the fire and decided to make dinner, pondering on the curses which could have been cast over him before the revolution truly took root in the country. You stoked the fire gently around the dragon egg still nested in the coals. There was an answer to the riddle that you could not see.

A few hours later, after reading numerous books on the subject of magics, you hadn’t found many answers. The key to the Knight’s curse probably laid in the type of magic used to curse him. With more questions than answers you stood from the fire, wrapped tight in a blanket, and took the spare to the door. Quietly you listened behind the wood. Sir Dawling’s armour creaked with the phantom movements of his breathing and quietly the thud of his metal finger against his thigh. Quietly, you opened the door. His helmet turned to face you immediately. Dawling made a shooing motion with his fingers, beckoning you to head back inside. You stepped out onto the stone step and smiled at him before offering him the heavy woollen blanket. You could see he was eyeing the red dyed wool, but instead of giving him a choice you thrust it over his lap and smiled. Carefully, he unfolded the fabric and laid it over his thighs.

“You don’t have to stay out here you know… I feel bad with you out here protecting me and helping me again.” You sighed and rubbed at your shoulders against the cold.

Sir Dawling held his hand up and shook his head, as though it was no trouble at all for him.

“But still… there has to be something I can do?” You asked, “Or maybe give you? I don’t want you out here all night bored…”

Again, Sir Dawling shook his head and you sighed at his protest.

“Fine but please, come back inside if you’re cold or anything. I’ll keep the fire on for the little one anyway.” You joked.

He shook his head at the idea of the dragon egg again and fixed his gaze on the moon and the stars above. You left him there, gazing up at the night sky, and went to bed.

For fourteen nights, Sir Dawling sat outside your cottage. Reluctantly, throughout the day you let him follow you too and from your jobs in town. You didn’t have a particular profession, but you had a lot of room for foraging and several of the plants on your property were useful to the locals. Alongside a bountiful variety of mushrooms there were several herbs like mint and rosemary which were used in salves. Sir Dawling watched the exchanges carefully, wary of the townsfolk who were wary of him. The people asked after him curiously, but most of the people in the town were far too familiar with the workings of the Fae in the woodlands. Once you explained a few of them were even sympathetic towards the poor Knight, though the others knew that a crest meant he was once someone of an important station. Not many looked on the Queen or her Court favourably out in the woods. Still, no one had said anything, yet. Sir Dawling followed behind you, his tattered cloak billowing, and his swords an obvious statement of prowess. He didn’t need to draw them for people to know he was a killer.

“Are you going to sit out here again?” You asked on the fifteenth night as you gave him a clean blanket.

Sir Dawling shrugged his shoulders, and as always, he didn’t reply.

“Well would you like a fire? I don’t know if you can feel cold but I got a little cast iron fire pit while I was out in town today!” You pointed to the edge of the small vegetable patch where the iron pit was located.

With a creak, Sir Dawling stood up, his armour clanking as he reached the fire pit and then bent over in order to drag it closer to the door. He reached for a log from the stack you had down the side of the house, but you had already beaten the Knight to it.

“Here.” You smiled and watched him take the log before you went inside to fetch some kindling and a small scoop of hot coals from the fire inside, “You know, the egg is really close to hatching I think.”

Sir Dawling shook his head at the mention of the egg you had pilfered inside of your home.

“I know you think I’m silly for keeping it…” You said as you handed the Dawling the kindling, “But I couldn’t stand the idea of a poacher getting it! That or the Fae. I just wanted to see if I could save it.”

A long wheezing sigh echoed from the chamber of Sir Dawling’s armour as he took the hot coals from your hands and carefully poured the scoop under the kindling. The twigs quickly caught fire with a few fans of his hands. Gently, he handed you the fire scoop back to take back inside and you did so before returning, running with your oven gloves on, with the dragon egg in hand. The egg gave another shake and a creak as you ran for the fire pit outside.

“SIR DAWLING! FAN THE FLAMES QUICK!” You screeched.

Sir Dawling took the fan from your pocket and fanned the flames as high as he could get them as you rolled the egg gently into the fire. The charcoaled shell cracked with the smoking wood, and you gazed at it in amazement as fiery lines erupted over the surface. The red patterns intertwined with one another, weaving an intricate image over the shell before a small, horned nose butted a chip in the shell. Sir Dawling leaned close enough to watch the egg shake and a small nose batter at the shell again. The flames licked the surface, like a caressing mother, and you dropped the oven gloves in favour of squatting by the pit.

The iron base glowed with the heat as another great creak sounded and a spiked tail flopped into the wood. The wood spat at you as claws raked at the thick calcium, gouging freedom from the egg. Horns prickled the egg and soon a small, growl sounded from the flames. A small, jade green dragon curled in the fire, grumbling in the fire, its tail poised high, and its neck flared defensively. It hissed and spat a small flame. With a firm hand, Sir Dawling removed the fire poker and watched as the dragonling growled, its sharp, ravenous teeth flashing. You looked at the jewelled creature in awe before sitting by the side of the fire and replacing your oven mittens. The dragon spat, its horned prickled in your direction, but you reached gently to move the eggshell out of the fire. Dawling’s helmet shifted to you, watching as you reached into the coals again and then placed the meat you were going to cook into the embers. The dragon grumbled, lowly, like a cat, but quickly turned its slitted pupils on the meat. Its eyes were a glorious orange, like amber. Carefully, its claws hooked the food, and you delighted quietly as it took the food and began chewing at the chicken leg.

“I know…” You whispered at Dawling as he looked to reach for the poker again, “Its stupid to try, but I think I can do this. Its such a beautiful creature.”

With another echoing sigh, Dawling nodded and watched you feed the dragon.

Another leg of a chicken had the small dragon clawing at the edge of the fire pit, its head raised, looking up at you with a gentle rumble. The scales down its neck glittered in the fire light like gems. The dragon was beautiful. Carefully you dared to let the hatchling sniff your hand. The dragon rumbled, sniffed and then carefully pushed its head up into your hand. Underneath its chin, as it raise its head, there was the glittering of a bright, pearl coloured scale, round and fat like a heavy gemstone. It glittered before the hatchling ducked its head again and growled, hopping out of the fire to curl around your legs. The dragon peered up at Sir Dawling from between your legs, and cocked its head, wondering about the suit of armour which clunked in its seat.

“He’s cursed.” You offered down at the dragon, “He did something in his previous life which upset a great sorceress, so she made him like this.” You smiled at Sir Dawling, offering him your hand and a comforting squeeze. His gauntlets creaked with the squeeze, but you smiled at him and then offered the dragon your hand as well.

“Wait… how do I tell if it’s a male or female…” You whispered as you turned back towards the house. The dragon followed dutifully, swinging its tail like a happy kitten as you both slipped through the door.

“How do you like Frasadu?” You asked the dragon. It chirped in response, “So maybe you are a boy…”

Sir Dawling shifted on the log outside, touching the crest on his chest as he watched you go inside, feeling an odd ache where once his chest was. The Knight shook his head, moaning inside the armour as he reached for the poker by the fire.

There was a disgusting sound, like two pieces of metal grinding metal together, which woke you up. With a scream, you shot out of bed, just as there was a great slam against the heavy stone wall of your home. You heard the sing of iron outside, indicating Sir Dawling had drawn his sword. The dragon by the fire stirred, and opened his mouth, his teeth lighting with fire. You rushed to the door, grabbing a dagger before you opened it. Frasadu howled at outside, and you froze by the door as Dawling’s sword sliced through the first fae who dared to get too close. With a rush of odd light, his gauntlet slammed through the chest of another, and you stood, clutching at the iron dagger as the bottom wall of the garden exploded into rubble. A great insect like beast crawled over the stones, its mouth parts slicing against one another again to make the awful noise.

“DAWLING!” You screamed as the insect beast slammed a great, needle like leg down towards him. The Knight rolled and sliced upwards, severing one of the monster’s legs before he made a quick roll back towards you. He held his hand up and you watched as Frasadu roared, flaring his wings before he shot a great ball of explosive fire at the insect. The beast screeched and reared before its abdomen set ablaze, and it sprinted for the trees, howling.

The fae watched their monster run and hissed, their black eyes glinting like oil slick in the fire. A few of them slunk behind the logs and rubbles of your walls, watching as you reached to touch the top of Frasadu’s head. There was a brief moment of silence amidst the crackling rubble, both parties staring at one another. Dawling flicked the blood from his great sword and turned the flat of the blade upwards at the slinking faeries.

“You have dragon lord blood.” A great tall Fae slunk from the rubble, her white hair was braided intricately around her head, holding poisonous thorns and dried hawthorn leaves. Gossamer wings fluttered behind her, placing her before you gracefully. Her face was narrow, impossibly thin in all dimensions, and her skin glittered green with a shine of iridescence. Black eyes bore holes in Sir Dawling as he stepped between the two of you.

“Silence Knight.” She scoffed. Her clawed fingers gripped into a fist and you felt the metallic scream of Sir Dawling as he was thrown in the air, writhing, his armour denting and groaning in on itself, “The incessant smell of your shame bores me.” The Fae spat, “You were cursed for it, and so you will end with it, curled in a ball of molten rotting metal.”

“Wait!” You begged, holding your hands out as you rushed in front of Dawling. He howled above you as his gauntlets were peeled open, each joint pulling outwards from his body. His arms buckled as you stared down the Fae.

“He is protecting me. He saved me…and I have looked after him. He does not deserve this…” You asked of her, “Please, leave him be.”

“I, Ushura, Lady of Glowing Stars, will not let the Fae Slayer live.” Ushura screamed, her fingers gripping the metal, tearing at it with the familiar glow of blue magic. It was the same colour that glowed inside of Sir Dawling’s armour from time to time.

“Please, my lady.” You begged, “What can be done to repay this sin?” You asked.

Ushura spat her disdain at your feet, “Your Queen has long since died. She was the one who asked it of him, but he was the one who carried it out, burning our burrows, slaughtering our children in their nests!” Fury burned in her veins, the weight of a thousand lives, her people, heavy on her shoulders.

“He suffers still for his slight, my lady, but please, let him live.” You asked, “I do not know what I am or who I am to you, yet, but I can only try and make things right.”

Ushura held Sir Dawling aloft, but the crushing of his armour halted, as did his howling. You watched her black eyes soften a little at the edges as she looked at the small hatchling at your side.

“Misee wi. Forni talmas, ui porteh alme.” She spoke gently, watching as the dragon at your side listened, his ear turned to her. The hatchling dipped his head and turned, his head stretched upwards, revealing the pearl beneath his neck. It was strangely, like you knew what to do, and you reached out carefully to touch the pearl. Frasadu hummed against you, and there was a great spark of white, brilliant light. You heard the Fae recoil and hide behind the rubble. There was an unending ringing in your ears before the light dimmed enough to reveal a great shape before you. All the sights and sounds of your ruined home disappeared behind the great shadow. Two wings spread out, shadowing beyond you, far into the corners of your field of vision, and you gasped at the silhouette of the dragon before you.

“Long have I awaited the return of a Dragon Lord. You are the last. The last of the line of glory, of brotherhood and blood ties beyond that of this continent. Frasadu was not a name you came up with, but it has rather always been my name, little one. Together, we are to restore what is broken, to mend the broken reaches of the world. We are destined to be, as your Knight is destined to follow you. Tell them, in the old tongue. As one we once were, and as one we are once again.”

The light receded as quickly as it had appeared and when you could see again you looked at your fingertips touching Frasadu’s chin. The dragon’s orange eyes reflected wisdom of thousands of years, and you smiled as you cradled his chin. With a resolute breath, you turned back to Ushura.

“Ret yue fristra, ret yue gugartha ne.” You told the fae.

“Then as one you must all remain.” She hissed. Her claws unravelled, dropping Sir Dawling from her grasp. The knight landed with a great crash, armour clattering against stone. You tried not to turn, holding the gaze of the Fae as Frasadu puffed his chest out before you, spreading his wings out in a threatening display.

“You must not return here.” You told the Fae, “Sir Dawling is to remain with me.”

Slowly, the Fae disappeared back into the trees, their eyes merging with the shadows as the firelight flickered far from view. You watched them for a moment before rushing to Dawling’s side. The armour laid motionless, laid in dented chunks.

“Please don’t be gone.” You begged quietly as you turned his helmet and desperately tried to place him back together.

There was a groan from somewhere within all the scattered metal and you found a twitching gauntlet in time to hold Sir Dawling’s hand. The metal armour groaned as you took his hand and tears burned in your eyes. You felt the wet drops on your cheeks as Frasadu growled and dragged a crushed greave over by your side.

“I don’t know how to fix this!” You told the hatchling, and the knight who’s head was laid in your lap.

The helmet visor clicked open with a sudden screech of metal. Your tears dripped inside the shell only to see the faint wisps of soul slowly swirling inside. The gauntlet by your feet twitched before it began to float, the dent groaning as the leather gloves stretched. You sobbed as you watched it float, the fingers reaching for you. The tips caressed the apples of your cheeks, slowly shifting downwards before they gave a gentle twitch. The chest plates expanded with a groan.

“Dragon… Lord.” Sir Dawling wheezed, his armour shaking, grinding along the floor as it attempted to fuse back together. You clawed at the pieces, pulling them together as your tears dripped down the once beautifully intricate metal work.

“Can we fix him?” Frasadu rumbled innocently. He sat next to you, his scales against your leg, “His soul is still here.”

“I don’t know how to fix this Dawling…” You wept on the armour with a thundering sob.

“Jurdanus…” Dawling wheezed, “Jurdanus… Dawling.”

“Jurdanus, please, Sir Dawling, I can’t…” You stuttered as you finally placed the rest of the armour together.

The knight gave one final, heaving breath, before the light dimmed behind his visor and the metal went slack against the stone. The fire continued to crackle behind you, dulling the sensation of reality for a moment before you placed your hands on Frasadu wept onto his scales. Sir Jurdanus Dawling didn’t move. The fires crackled as you held Frasadu close, and you looked to the stars in the night sky above. All was quiet, for a moment, before there was a gentle whoosh, like gas being lit. Frasadu grumbled, shifting in your grasp, stretching to look at the armour as a soft blue wisp drifted down towards you both. Amidst the fire you watched the light swift before it formed the shape of a large man. The silhouette drifted closer, and a hand reached to touch your cheek, tracing the same pattern Sir Dawling had drawn.

“Jurdanus?” You asked, hopefully.

The silhouette nodded before spreading its arms and laying backwards. The light disappeared back into the armour. A great whoosh sounded again before the ruined armour before you clanged, shifted, and banged, rumbling violently as it once again took on the perfect shape of a suited knight.

The light behind the visor glowed once more and with a delighted shriek you jumped over Sir Dawling’s hips, delightedly shaking his shoulders as he reached up to steady you by the waist.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” You wiped the tears from your face, sniffling.

Jurdanus nodded his head and reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Tenderly, he cupped your face, and there was a whisper of thanks on the wind, although no voice echoed from within the armour. You smiled and howled with laughter as Jurdanus sat up and dragged you with him, holding you close to his chest as he span through the garden, with Frasadu hot on his heels.

#enchanted armour #monster x reader #enchanted armour x reader #enchanted knight #enchanted knight x reader #reader insert #original work #original works #fantasy writing #fantasy #knight #sir jurdanus dawling #monster boyfriend x reader #fantasy romance #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance

209 notes · View notes

drefear · 10 months

Text

Hail to the King

Chapter 2: It All Comes Back to You

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

Tw: masturbating (male) hints of trauma and past abusive relationship, drinking, a lil more of possessive and creepy Miguel.

AN: I have to say I feel like some of this might be kinda shitty because it was a bit rushed, but I also hate slow paced plots, so I guess I can’t help it. Hope you like it!

You.

The world was blurry as your eyes lost focus for a bit. Nothing seemed real. You thought you might wake up and everything would be normal again. No crazy mob bosses, no blow jobs in the office, no scheduled sex, none of it.

Who the fuck was this guy?

His life was so far from any type of common man’s that you were almost impressed. Fine pressed designer suits, women on their knees during his lunch break, meetings about hard drugs. For a building so beautifully kept and full of charming people, it sure was a mystery. Was everyone just sleeping with different people throughout the day? Were they also snorting lines off of the bathroom counter or cooking meth in the kitchen? What other dirty deeds were done in this place?

Lyla knocked on your door, saying something about setting up your new phone and calendar.

“And the blue events in the calendar are strictly private for Miguel.” She added, to which you saw that- yep. That meeting was blue. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and listened to the rest of what she had to say.

“Ok, that should be it. Your new phone is set up, and it also has the company card connected to it already, so you don’t need a physical card. Miguel set me a message about your shopping spree later, but I raised the budget he gave you to an extra ten thousand. Just in case ya really need something that might cross that line. And whatever you get, I do the paperwork so I’ll just write it up as an investment, like our donations to charity.” She shrugged and turned, blowing you a little kiss as she exited the room.

Your mind assaulted your conscious thoughts once she was gone, remembering how he looked only thirty minutes ago. Head back in ecstasy, eyes never wavering from yours as he orgasmed and slammed up into that girl's throat. You shivered from the memories and stood up abruptly, needing to move around before the warmth in your core spread and created any type of physical arousal.

Your phone buzzed, seeing Miguel’s name light up the screen. Unlocking your phone, only the words ‘Come to my office now.’ showed up and your feet began to move towards your door when you stopped.

A million thoughts danced behind your eyes and you smirked, tired of him already.

‘No.’ is all you answered before exiting your office and shutting the door loudly behind you so he knew you’d be gone. You confidently walked to the elevator and tossed your hair over your shoulder. He wanted your unfiltered thoughts? Well then, he had no idea what he signed up for.

Standing in the elevator, you saw him walk out of his office as well and make eye contact with you, making you flash back to what you’d seen earlier.

In seconds, you realized something as you stood ten feet away now. He knew you wouldn’t know about the color coded schedule. He planned that little power play. He was showing his dominance, like a dog peeing on his territory. A show of who was in charge and what you were to him. A plaything.

This split second of awareness made you even more confident in your defiance, as you saw him begin to close in on the elevator. The doors began to close and you smiled, waving to him right before they shut.

The ride to the lobby was serene, like the calm after the storm. Your day had been intense to say the least. A lot of arguing, thinking, absorbing, and borderline sexual assault on your eyes. But it wasn’t a bad day. In fact, this all gave you a thrill you didn’t know you needed.

Once on the ground floor, you walked outside and waved to a taxi, getting in once one stopped. Scrolling over the list you were given by Lyla, you stopped at one stare in particular.

“Take me to Hermès.” And you were gone.

Standing in the dressing room, the whole world felt like a scene from Pretty Woman. You twirled in tight, business dresses that you thought they only wore in movies about billionaires with red rooms. The color of your favorite so far was a lightweight white dress, but it seemed a bit much for the office, so you tucked it away and decided if you needed a sexy dress for an event, you’d pull it out.

You’d decided to go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue, where you’d been fired the previous day, and eat lunch right where this all had begun.

Sitting at a table, you requested Peter kindly and he made his way over in an instant. “I am so sorry, it was completely out of my control! I didn’t-“ he apologized and you just shook your head.

“It’s ok. I understand now. How about you get me a white wine and we call it water under the bridge?” You requested and he nodded, fetching it with hast. It was a great meal and once you were done, you gave Peter and Gwen both a hug.

“You know, since you technically got a huge promotion, we should celebrate! Go out tonight, get some drinks?” Gwen asked and you quickly agreed. A few drinks sounds exactly like what you needed.

Now beyond overstimulated, you made your way home with around thirty thousand dollars worth of clothing.

And when you saw a moving truck outside of your complex, you remembered that you were indeed moving.

Hours of tossing shit in boxes and taping them closed, you were packed and in the moving van on your way to your new apartment. You were still reeling with this whole world and how quickly things had spun into a web of insanity.

Leaning your head back against the side of the van, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the reality began to sink in.

Arriving at your new place, the large men brought in the big pieces of furniture you decided to keep, which was really just your couch, bed, and coffee table. Everything else was unneeded and ugly anyway. You tried to help as much as possible, but quickly opted for carrying in boxes and garbage bags you’d packed in a rush. It was over just as quickly as it started and soon, you were sitting on your floor cross legged and staring at the boxes, then glanced at the shopping bags that were full of expensive dresses and clothing. That sounded like a lot more fun than unpacking your old sweats and knickknacks.

Pulling everything out and placing it on hangers, your eyes glanced at a specific outfit you’d chosen that’d be perfect to celebrate with Gwen tonight. Pulling on a white halter dress, you enjoyed the little bits of side boob and the way the thigh had a slit that showed more skin. The light fabric made it comfortable and easy to move in, and with a quick pair of strappy heels with sparkling rhinestones all over from Jimmy Choo, you grabbed your new Louis Vuitton purse and smiled. Maybe this job would be so terrible.

Texting Gwen, you also decided to invite Lyla and Jess. Lyla agreed to come out, whereas Jess said she didn’t have a sitter for the boys and would come out once her husband got home from work. A girls night was exactly what you needed, and everything about the feeling of hopping on the train and getting eyes from a few good looking men made you hum with pride. Ignoring all of the bullshit from the past two days, you liked Gwen a lot and she’s become someone you trusted even only knowing her for about a week. She had an authenticity about her that made you feel like she was honest and brave.

Lyla also made you laugh with how she always had something to say back. Her fun loving attitude was one you almost felt jealous of, how she seemed so relaxed. Jessica had a bad ass vibe to her, like everything she did could be documented and made into a comic or story. Like some sort of legend in the making.

You wanted to be like them in so many ways, you’d have to start taking notes and learning how they seemed to be so damn cool.

Stepping off the train and hurrying towards the club Gwen suggested, you couldn’t help but smile. You’re first time clubbing in Nueva York! It was so exciting, seeing people waiting outside of the club in a long line like in movies you’d seen. Waving to Gwen, who was already on line, you caught up with her. Her outfit fit her so well, a black shirt leather jacket over a dark silver mini dress with black tights with rips in them and black platform boots with chains down the sides. She looked like a rockstar, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She smiled wide and grabbed your hand.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She added and you couldn’t agree more. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab yours from behind and saw a familiar pair of heart shaped glasses.

“Lyla!” Gwen cheered before you even turned around fully, all hugging together. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, how’s Mr. Grumpy pants?” The blonde asked and Lyla just rolled her eyes.

“Cranky as usual, but he comes in handy for some things. Follow me.” She pulled you both out of the line and to the front where many people were giving you all dirty looks. A security guard only took a second to look at Lyla and moved the ropes for her and you to come in, not even bothering to check your ids. You looked at Gwen in surprise and she just nodded, as if telling you to keep your cool.

The club was packed beyond belief, and a girl in a bodysuit and fishnets let you to a large booth-table with velvet black couches and a large bottle of champagne on the table. “Who did this?”

“I may have called ahead and three around Miguel’s name.” Lyla shrugged, grabbing a flute of champagne and filling it with the bubbly alcohol. She handed you each one more and tilted her glass to inspire a toast. “To our new recruit in the Spider society!” She cheersed and you blushed at the attention, Gwen whooping and hollering. The thrum of the heavy bass and heat from the moving bodies made you almost lightheaded, enjoying the free feeling from the liquid in your cup. Another bottle was brought out once Jess arrived and the four of you swayed a bit to the beat, to which you grabbed Gwen’s hand and attempted to pull her to the dance floor. Lyla followed with Jess and you all moved, swaying your hips to the rap playing in the dim lights. The flash of Lyla’s phone camera made you cover your face a little, still smiling and not stopping your dance, swiveling in a seductive motion and feeling the heat between your legs begin to rise from the feeling of the eyes around you watching. Jess nudged you and pointed to a man at the bar, a bit taller and thin in a dress shirt. You made eye contact with the man and the temperature of your chest rose once more. You made your way over to where he was, raising a hand at the bartender as you ordered a drink. He leaned over and spoke.

“On my tab.” His voice was low, eyes catching yours once more and making you feel very aware of your surroundings. A blush creeped onto your face and you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself and you returned the favor, shaking his hand gently. Big Sean pumped around you both as you talked for what felt like an hour, light conversation giving you a feeling similar to a high. It had been a while since you’d enjoyed speaking to someone like this, chemistry and familiarity.

“Is that you?” You heard someone speak from behind you and call your name, turning to face the last person you thought would be in front of you.

“Eddie?” You gasped, fear coursing through the previously hot blood in your veins, cold as ice now from this familiar face. “How did you-”

“I heard you moved here a few weeks ago and came to visit. Nothing like a friendly face, right?” You searched around for your female friends in vain, finding no one you even recognized. He slipped his hand into yours, frozen with horror as he squeezed, something you knew was actually a warning. “How about we find somewhere to talk?”

“Actually, I’m with my coworkers, now is a bad time.” You tried to remove your hand from his and felt him unrelenting, his grip tightening. “Please, not here.” You begged, pleading with him and knowing you’d get nowhere.

“There you are!” Jess’s voice rang through as she pushed through the crowd, Lyla and Gwen behind her. “We’re about to get another bottle- who’s this?” She raised a brow questioningly at Eddie, who stepped closer with a small smile.

“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” He shook her hand and her eyes glanced to yours, hopefully seeing the feeling of terror you were trying to show her.

“Right,” Jess pulled you closer to her and slipped her arm into yours, “well, sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re having a girls only night, so she’ll have to talk to you another time.” Jess secured her hand around your arm and smiled, knowing exactly what you needed. Behind you, Lyla had signaled security and had them coming closer, but a voice made everyone stop moving instantly.

“Actually, I think it’s time we all go.” A deep voice said from your right and you looked up to see your boss.

“How-“ Gwen asked but was quickly cut off by the glare Miguel sent her.

“I saw the videos Lyla posted and came to celebrate as well.” From his body language, that definitely was not his true intentions, but you were left in the dark as Jess and Lyla looked extremely nervous, like they’d just got caught doing something very bad.

Gwen leg the way out as Jess and Lyla followed, to which you began to walk forward with them, but a hand grabbed your wrist once more and you came face to face with Harry, who’d been caught in the crossfire of your drama.

“When will I see you again?” He begged slightly, a small smile on his lips until Miguel stood in between you two and sneered at him a bit.

“Get your hands off my employee.” His voice was dangerous, a presence only a lion would challenge. Without letting anyone interject, he dragged you out through the crowd and into the street lights. A hoard of men in black clothing stood outside with the girls, seemingly waiting for you and Miguel. You all climbed into a black SUV where all of the seats faced each other and both Jess and Lyla hung their heads, Gwen holding your hand in concern.

“What the hell was that, Lyla?!” His voice was loud, accusatory. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

“Of course not, I just wanted to-“

“I don’t even want to hear it. And you, Jess? You should know better than anyone what that could have led to!” His tone made you coward backwards a bit, Jess unwavering in her confidence.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to like that? Lyla and I were with her and Gwen, we were perfectly safe.” She defended and Lyla nodded, Gwen looking up just as confused as you.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked quietly and as if he just noticed you were there, his eyes were cautious. Everything was silent for a moment before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“That nightclub is owned by another mob in Nueva, a smaller one, but it would still be a problem if anything else had happened. They would think I sent spies to their club.” He added the end as an example. You looked down as Gwen rubbed your shoulder from worry.

“I’m taking you all to a different club, one that won’t cause any unnecessary issues-“

“Actually…” you started and but your lip before continuing. “I think I just want to go home. I’m too tired to stay out.” You didn’t dare look up at anyone else, eyes trained on your shinny shoes that you were so excited about a few hours ago. How did everything keep happening so fast?

The car stopped outside of your building and you got out, followed by Miguel. He tapped the top of the car and the rest of the girls were sent home. You both walked in and onto the elevator.

“I don’t need an escort-“

“This is also my building.” He interrupted you and you finally looked up at him, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the buttons of the elevator. He tapped your floor and then the top floor. Of course he had the penthouse.

You stayed soundless, the exhaustion finally hitting you and making you drag your feet. The doors opened and you glanced at him before just walking out.

“By the way.” He spoke before you could walk too far, turning to look into his eyes for the first time that night. “Next time my office door is shut, remember to knock.” The metal doors closed and the memory of him fucking into that woman’s throat was then fresh on your mind.

Miguel’s head fell back against the metal. Lyla had posted those videos of you dancing on her account and he’d seen them when she started not answering his messages, then watching how you moved your body in that adorable white dress. And the way it moved up your thighs while you danced-

Miguel opened his eyes as the ding of the elevator sounded that he’d reached his penthouse. Walking into his dining room, he shed himself from the suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, stretching his shoulders and tossing the shirt into a hamper close to his closet. Unbuckling his belt, Miguel let out a breath of relief as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. Sitting down on his bed, he reached for his laptop and settled under the covers. Scrolling through a few documents, he pulled up his background search of you. Your photo popped up with some of your social media. Pictures from the beach, a few from birthdays, and some family photos, you seemed completely normal.

But something was off.

Miguel knew he was intimidating, it was part of his stature that made his job a little easier. You weren’t afraid of him, you kept your ground and fought back to him.

But tonight, you had fear in your eyes when you saw that guy. What was his name again? Adam? Who knows, but he saw that slight hesitation and anxiety in you that he didn’t recognize. You were scared of that guy.

He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d saw you as he was getting his normal de-stressing from one of the girls in the lower levels, something many women around him volunteered for. She’s come up and offered sex, but he just needed a mouth to fuck.

And then you walked in with that plain outfit and sensible shoes, holding your tablet like you’d been in a rush. And he couldn’t look away. You should have been the one wrapped around his dick, he wanted to hear you gagging on him as he thrusted upwards and grunted. He wanted to cum inside your mouth, not someone random woman’s from marketing. He wanted you.

Unknowingly, his hand had traveled to his boxers and he’d begun rubbing himself to the thought of you.

All he could imagine was you mouthing off to him, and him bending you over the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding one arm behind your back as the other moved to grasp anything within reach as he took you from behind. Miguel rolled his eyes back at the thought of your warm hole welcoming him as he licked two fingers of his free hand and rubbed circles on your clit until you were practically pushing him away from the intensity of your orgasm. But no, he wouldn’t let you get away that easily, he wanted to feel it around him, so he would angle his hips a little more upward, hitting that soft spot that made you arch your back into him more and let out broken moans.

As if on cue, white ropes of his own mess hit his chest and he looked down in surprise, having forgotten what his hand had been doing. He sighed and got up to rinse himself off with a softening cock and an empty mind. The single thing on his brain when he tossed and turned in his sleep that night?

You.

Gwen’s outfit

Your outfit

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

#miguel o'hara #Miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #Miguel O'hara x reader

419 notes · View notes

lovelyiida · 5 months

Note

bakugou and reader being seen as a power couple by the media!

you're my favorite writer here btw

☔

❥: omg I’m your favorite? GUEHEHUEHE

bakugo x (gn) reader, swearing, mentions of suggestive content, protective partner, mentions of arguing

At first, it was mutual trust between the two of you that propelled you to where you are today. Bakugo knew you were a hard worker; you took your title seriously, and most importantly—you kicked ass.

Both of you were paired at Best Jeanist Agency back in high school and only spoke here and there. However, when you both made it to the big leagues, you saw each other more often. Due to the familiarity of being around each other years ago, you began to form a strong bond.

And some strong unknown sexual tension...

When you fought side by side, you were an invincible duo, your quirks complementing each other seamlessly. With your somewhat "healthy" communication (besides a snide comment here and there) skills, you both maintained a very business-friendly relationship.

But the both of you easily saw through that.

Of course, both of you noticed the drawn-out gazes, protective hand placements, and the subtle brush of hands during patrols. It wasn't until sooner or later that the media would catch both of you in a rather steamy slip-up.

A star duo was born!

The relationship was embraced positively by both the media and the general public, particularly during interviews.

“So, Mr. Dynamite…how did you know (hero name) was the one for you?” the bright and bubbly interviewer asked.

Harsh florescent lighting, tight hero suits, a raging headache, 3 hours of sleep, and a single cup of coffee was all it took for Bakugo to snap. Which was impressive because the interview passed the five minute mark.

“Look at them and tell me you wouldn’t wanna [REDACTED] them? That’s why, nothing else, nothing more,” the blonde stated matter-of-factly.

A beat of silence washed over the room, the interviewer left speechless, gazing back at the camera with pleading eyes for a live cut.

Turning towards the interviewer with a smile, you shrug your shoulders with a quick motion and nod.

“Yep, I’d agree with him.”

Boom, 10 million views, an increased paycheck, a higher position on the hero chart, and a multitude of sponsors to choose from.

The people loved both of you.

You were raw, unscripted, intense, and caring. What more did the people not want to see?

Your profound connection was evident to everyone. From the way you seamlessly covered each other on missions to the tender hand squeezes and kisses on the cheek, such as when Bakugo accepted an award at the hero gala.

Publicly and privately, the two of you were a power couple, a dynamic force that some found almost too good to be true. Certain individuals, often claiming to be fans, went to great lengths, attempting to psychoanalyze every move in an effort to discredit your relationship as a mere PR stunt.

These obsessive "fans" even went as far as paying a multitude of hidden paparazzi to spy on both of you, desperately trying to unearth a flaw, a hiccup, or a mistake to exploit. However, whenever it seemed like they might succeed, both of you swiftly shut down any rumors with quickness.

[BREAKING] PRO-HERO COUPLE found arguing at MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR HOME

Yikes, the header photo did appear somewhat convincing.

Bakugo was pictured bellowing at the top of his lungs, and the expression you pulled back wasn’t the sweetest. But, of course, context is key.

Soon, you were sat in front of a camera to do an embarrassing PR apology...

“Just making it clear for all you weirdos out there, Dynamite and I were indeed having an argument... and I apologize that you had to witness a grown man getting worked up over discovering that Iceland is, in fact, not a land covered in ice. It's quite the opposite.”

Later transitioning smoothly into another interview, both of you now share a laugh about it. “I had to explain it to him for almost 20 minutes, and he was genuinely upset. Yelling at me like I'm the crazy one!” You chuckled.

Glancing over, you see Bakugo rest his hand on your thigh and let out a chuckle. “Yeah, and I still think you're [REDACTED] wrong.”

“Language!”

Oh, the power couple you were…

YAY IM FINALLY BACK!

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @snxwycloud , @skylardarling

#mha headcanons #lovelyiida #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #bakugo x reader

314 notes · View notes

in1-nutshell · 5 months

Note

Hmmm do know what we don’t have? ANGST! Picture this: Buddy is a pilot for a giant mecha. Each suit is user specific as they share a psychic connection with their chosen pilot as Buddy generates the power for them similar to the way a spark powers a Cybertronian. They can go months without eating, sleeping, or drinking while they pilot it. But Buddy had a bad encounter with the Decepticons while exploring space which separated them from their squad and left them fearful of revealing their organic nature to the Crew of the Arc. They know the Autobots are good people, but having the Decepticons respond to with fear and violence that left them and their partner so close to death? It’s better to just leave something’s unsaid… even if it kills them that they can’t be honest with their friends

Do we all love a little angst from time to time? The whole mind link thing reminded me of 'Avatar', which in itself is an interesting concept with a mech suit. Since you did not specify the continuity or characters, I randomly selected them. If this is not what you wanted, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Hound, Ironhide, and Prowl’s reaction to Human Buddy in a giant mech suit (with mind linked to it like Avatar)

SFW, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of malnourishment and illness (but nothing explicit), happy ending, platonic, Human Reader

The Mech suit was safe. It was Buddy’s safe place. After all, they wouldn’t have survived the Decepticon attack if it wasn’t for the suit. They remembered how the brutal attack was left in the station.

They remembered the screams and yelling.

The sounds of blaring alarms and missiles exploding.

Those awful sounds…

Thank goodness they were found by Cosmos in the space station’s ruins. Buddy only had the mech suit and the airlock pod that had their organic form when he found them.

As much as Buddy hated the weak form of their organic body was, they still needed it to have this body operational. So, Buddy kept up with appearances on the Arc and guarded the tiny pod with their life. Many bots tried to pry the pod open, but that usually ended up with Buddy’s pede in their chassis.

A couple of days passed and the warning signs of their organic body failing began appearing. Buddy knew it was important to give the metal body a break but the memories of the attack… it was too much…

They did, however, miscalculate the length of the warnings because one minute they were walking down the halls with one of their bot friends and the next they were staring at the covering of the pod.

Uh oh…

Hound

Hound was so concerned when his friend suddenly fainted. All their biolights off and optics gone offline.

“Buddy? Buddy! Can you hear me!? Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the medbay! If you can hear me keep hanging in there!”--Hound

He scoops them up and is racing to Ratchet for help.

It isn’t until he passes by Buddy’s room, he hears something inside, something coming from the pod. Taking a risk, he went inside the room with the limp body in his servos and looked at the pod.

The pods doors suddenly opened revealing a rather malnourished and exhausted looking human.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Hound

“… I can explain—”--Buddy

“Why do you sound like Buddy!”--Hound

“Oh this is going to take a bit to explain…”--Buddy

It took some explaining from the human to finally figure out what was happening.

Hound is sympathetic to Buddy’s situation. While he is hurt that they kept this sercret, he has kept secrets too. Hound isn’t able to judge a secret. He is quick to accept Buddy, the bot and human.

He vouches for Buddy when they do come out to the rest of the crew.

“So, your real body is in this pod here and then your mind goes into this body?”--Hound

“Yes.”--Buddy

“… This sounds like a human film I saw one time. I don’t remember the name of it, but it was a rather long one.”--Hound

Ironhide

Ironhide already has his servos on Buddy and is running to the medbay. He is not wasting any time, for all he knows every nanosecond is precious.

“Buddy! Oh Primus—EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY! SOMEONE GET RATCHET TO THE MEDBAY STAT!”--Ironhide

A moment of silence for the mechs that got trampled by Ironhide trying to get to the medbay.

He doesn’t know what just happened, but he knows that something like this isn’t common.

It’s just Ironhide and Ratchet when he comes in. As Ratchet starts examining Buddy’s body they come to a horrific conclusion, Buddy’s body wasn’t even Cybertronain. In fact, it had some similar human machinery than anything close to their anatomy.

It was a hollow shell.

A soft thud was heard in the medbay. It was coming from out of the pod. A muffled noise was heard from the inside.

“Ratchet, did you hear that?”--Ironhide

“Shh! Quiet!”--Ratchet

…

*muffled* “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”--Buddy

“Did—did that pod just—”--Ironhide

*muffled* “IRONHIDE!”--Buddy

“Yeah, I think it did! Pass me those pliers.”--Ratchet

Ironhide and Ratchet carefully pry open the pod and out popped Buddy.

Everyone is just surprised at what was happening. Ratchet is jumping into action seeing how sickly Buddy looked. Ironhide wants answers but he also knows that this isn’t the time for it.

Buddy does eventually tell him and Ratchet what was going on. Ironhide… he can’t exactly be too angry about this no matter how much this bothers him he can’t.

He knows what it’s like to fear for your life around bots that could potentially end your existence.

Ironhide does talk to Buddy about it.

He vouches for Buddy when they tell everyone else on board.

“Kid, go on and sleep. It’s been a long day even by Autobot standards.”--Ironhide

“I’m okay ‘Hide.”--Buddy

“Kid that’s not a suggestion. When was the last time you slept?”--Ironhide

“…”--Buddy

Buddy starts sprinting in the opposite direction.

Ironhide is close behind.

“GET BACK HERE AND SLEEP!”--Ironhide

“NO!”--Buddy

Prowl

Prowl is internally freaking out when Buddy’s body goes slack. He is quick to hoist them on his back.

“Buddy? Buddy?! Now’s not the time for your games! Primus, Ratchet!”--Prowl

He is quick to comm in Ratchet and escorts them to their room as it was the closest. Prowl is not expecting a tiny human to come crawling out of the pod looking half dead. He had his sneaking suspicions about the pod and all of the human references Buddy had made, but he thought he might have been a bit too paranoid.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Prowl

“I can explain—”--Buddy

“You BETTER START!”--Prowl

Ratchet was so close to exiting out of the room when he saw Prowl arguing with a malnourished human with Buddy’s discarded body in a corner.

It takes a bit for Buddy to explain as they are trying hard to stay awake. Prowl while he wants all the answers, he backs off seeing how Buddy is. After Ratchet helps patch them up Buddy does their best to explain everything.

Prowl has conflicted feelings about Buddy hiding their identity.

On one servo he is angry.

How could Buddy hide such important information from everyone, from him?

On the other he is understanding.

He can’t count the number of times where he had to lie low in fear of triggering the enemy.

Not that he would ever admit that.

Prowl does give Buddy some space to decide on his feelings of this new discovery.

He does make up his mind and stands by Buddy as they explain everything to the rest of the crew.

“Was what we had… was it real?”--Prowl

“Prowl, all that I said was true. None of it was fake.”--Buddy

“…How can I trust you?”--Prowl

“You shouldn’t… but if things seemed fake on your part—”--Buddy

“No, no my feelings were true.”--Prowl

“Friends?”--Buddy

“Friends.”--Prowl

“… What in the Pits did I just witnessed?”--Ratchet

#maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #tf hound #tf prowl #tf ironhide #human buddy

156 notes · View notes

novellafaire · 1 year

Text

TWST Boys on a Carnival Date

Dorm leaders x Reader

Summary: What is it like when the boys take you out on a date to the local carnival?

A/N: sorry lovelies for the small break! finals were a pain, but we’re here again now, so I hope you enjoy! ♡

p.s. requests are still currently closed for the time being, so if you send any it’ll be a while before we get to them, hope you understand! ♡

• if we’re being honest, you were probably the one who organized the date

• because of his childhood, chances are he’s never been to a carnival

• he would normally see these events as being childish, but the happy look on your face makes it worth it

• he does enjoy spending time with you though, even if he prefers the calmer dates such as tea parties or study sessions

• will be more lenient on his own rules, but will follow any rules to the letter that the carnival has

• you’ll have to remind him to enjoy himself

• wouldn’t care too much for any of the rides, especially the more exhilarating ones, but once again, he’ll do it for you

• if he had to choose a favorite though, it would probably something more calm and traditional, such as the ferris wheel or carousel

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your hand grasped firmly around Riddle’s as you led him through the carnival grounds. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he followed obediently. Finally, the two of you came across a carousel.

Riddle looked at you quizzically, did you think he was a child? But you simply smiled at him and waited in line. Once it was your guys’ turn to mount the wooden creatures. Riddle chose a cream colored horse, given his ties to the equestrian club, while you chose the one most suited to your preferences.

Riddle felt incredibly out of place sitting on the faux creature. Even still, he listened diligently to the rules being told about the ride. He couldn’t fathom why you wished to bring him here.

That is, until it started moving. His brain still screamed that this is childish, and if Ace ever saw him like this, he would never hear the end of it. Though, for some reason he couldn’t explain, his heart disagreed. Joy filled his veins as the air slightly tussled his crimson hair, and as the scenery around him began to move. He can’t recall if he’s ever felt this free before.

Once you guys dismount the ride, you can’t help but ask his opinion. A light shade of red dusts his cheeks as he avoids eye contact with you. His hand feels warm curled around yours, even as refuses to admit he enjoyed it.

“I suppose I can understand the endearment towards such a ride”

• you probably had to drag Leona out there one way or another

• he does enjoy spending time with you, but he much rather stay in one of your dorms just hanging out and sleeping

• but he knows that there should be other dates than just those, so he indulges you

• (it’s totally not because when he first declined you, you suggested going with other people instead)

• he’ll buy you anything you want without much thought. he’s also really good at the carnival games, so he’ll gripe about it the whole time but if you want a prize, he’ll win it for you

• the smug lion will also enjoy the compliments that follow

• once again, he doesn’t care much for the rides or anything, he only does them because you seem to enjoy them

• if he had a favorite, it would probably be the haunted house, not because they scare him, but because he likes teasing you, and he won’t admit it, but he likes the feeling of being relied on

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You instinctively jump back and lean into Leona’s embrace when another eerily well designed ghoul jumps out at you. In your world they wouldn’t have been as terrifying, but in this world they have the power to use magic to aid in their scaring, which ups the fear factor tremendously. As you hide your face in the lion beastman’s torso, you can feel the deep chuckle reverberate through his chest. Looking up, your gaze meets his infamous teasing smirk.

“Scared, herbivore?” He grins with an eyebrow quirked. You huff, crossing your arms defiantly as you turn away from him

“Of course not! I was just startled, that’s all”

The mocking look on his face doesn’t leave as you guys continue walking. He stays a few paces behind you, thinking to himself. You’re an incredibly strong person who has put up with so much — including himself — and he knows that, so seeing you get scared from what he considers child’s play is very amusing to him. And, as much as he would deny it, he loves how he can be someone you’re comfortable relying on.

He’s used to people not thinking he’s good enough, or that he would always be second pick, so having you come to him first makes his heart soar with joy. It also inflates his already massive ego.

Your banter continues, and to further your point on not being scared, you quicken your pace to go further in front of him. However, this quickly back fires as another jumpscare happens right as you turn the corner. You quickly return to Leona’s embrace, forfeiting your pride for the moment. Leona just secures his arm around you to make you feel safe, but as he speaks you can practically see the smirk on his face.

“You’re just jumping at every excuse to be in my arms, huh?”

• he was actually the one who probably brought it up with you, even though he enjoys taking you out on more lavish dates, he does want to experience more land-dwelling customs and because it can give him ideas for business opportunities

• he’ll try to win you plushies from the rigged games, but he won’t be able to win, which simultaneously frustrates and embarrasses him

• instead he’ll spoil you by buying you other stuff you want

• a bit reluctant to eat any of the food, but will snack a bit on it if you insist

• will never participate in the dunk tank. no matter how much you beg or plead, that is one thing you’ll never catch him partaking in

• most likely to have really bad luck — like he’ll try to be all suave but then something will happen, like the ride getting stuck, and it’ll be ruined

• not a huge fan of the fast paced rides either, he prefers the more “romantic” ones

• but honestly his favorite thing is to just walk around the fair ground with you, looking at all the stalls

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your arm was hooked across his elbow, with his other free hand resting over yours. Even as people bustled around you guys, filling the air with their laughter, you didn’t mind the noise. You and Azul had been having a nice conversation and were now walking around in comfortable silence.

While you were watching everything around you, Azul’s eyes were focused on you. Even in the summer heat and humidity, you looked ethereal to him. Even though he could be pessimistic at times, especially about himself, you were always there to brighten his day.

He was pulled out of his trance when he felt you tug on his arm, pointing to a photo booth they had. He let you drag him over to it, despite his insecurities he would happily oblige you. Especially because it would provide a physical reminder of the day, which is always nice. He would just make sure to hide it from the Leech twins — he didn’t need their relentless teasing.

“C’mon Azul, let’s take some photos together! It would be so cute”

“Of course, anything for you, darling”

• literally a golden retriever the whole time

• he was so excited when he heard about the carnival, and immediately wanted to take you there to enjoy it

• boy is literally bouncing off the walls, wanting to try anything and everything

• Jamil would shadow you guys from a distance though, to make sure nothing bad happened

• if you guys are holding hands, be assured that he’ll be swinging your guys’ arms happily

• Kalim is literally thriving in this type of environment

• another one who will buy you anything you want without a second thought — he’ll even be more than willing to buy things that aren’t actually even for sale

• he especially loves the exhilarating rides and roller coasters, or even the tilt-a-whirls and water rides.

• his favorite is probably the bumper cars though, he just has so much fun interacting with strangers like that

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, Kalim was talking animatedly to you while you guys waited in line for the bumper cars. If the people knew who he was, they would probably let you skip the line, but that thought didn’t even cross Kalim’s mind and you would feel bad for the other patrons if you did that, so you didn’t voice that thought.

Luckily though, the line wasn’t too bad, and Kalim distracted you from the wait, regardless. This was probably the fourth time you guys were going to the bumper cars, but Kalim just kept having so much fun with it

Kalim then turned his attention to you, a bright smile adorning his face.

“Isn’t this so much fun?”

His happiness was contagious, so you couldn’t help but grin back, “yeah, it is!”

“We have festivals in the Scalding Sands, but nothing like this” he beams, explaining why he finds this so enjoyable, before he pauses and adds on,

“Well, I always have a lot fun when I do anything with you!”

• the chances of you getting Vil to actually go to a carnival are incredibly slim

• they’re just too chaotic and rambunctious for his liking

• it would take a lot of pleading for him to go with you to one — probably would if you mentioned how you liked them back in your world, because then he would feel bad denying you something that was related to the home you were taken away from

• wouldn’t care too much about what was being sold unless it was accessories or something, but even then he would be quick to point out the low quality

• so no, he probably wouldn’t buy you anything unless you really wanted it, his reasoning being that he could find you something much better elsewhere

• he won’t be keen on the rollercoasters or fast moving rides, namely cause of the damage the wind could do

• flat out refuses to do any of the water rides

• Vil prefers the more slow and scenic rides

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Even sitting in one of the small compartments of the ride, Vil still has his legs elegantly crossed and his posture perfect. His eyes are gazing at the scenery that passes by while you guys chat idly. Even though this may not be his preferred type of date, he still enjoys it nonetheless (even if it doesn’t seem like that)

He turns his head towards you when you call out his name. You were pointing a camera at both of you, ready to take a picture. Vil smiles at this, and it’s not his usual smile he’s developed for the sole purpose of photos, it’s a true, genuine smile.

After you take a photo, you pull up your screen so that the both of you can look to see how it turned out. In the photo you can see your bright smile, the beautiful scenery in the back, and then the soft look on Vil’s face as he smiles — a far cry from his usual demeanor.

Enamored with the picture, you look up at him and tell him that he’s beautiful. His real smile broadens further, before it turns into a smirk.

“I look my most beautiful when you’re by my side”

• it would be difficult to get Idia to agree to a date like that, where there’s crowds of people all around.

• once you mention an anime where there’s carnivals in as well, then he’ll be much more open to the idea

• that, and it would make you happy, which is what he wants

• he would be incredibly nervous the whole entire time

•his gaze almost always either looking down at the ground, or looking at you, and he would not leave your side for any reason

• would definitely get a souvenir for Ortho, if he didn’t tag along with you guys

• doesn’t care for any of the rides, those are way too normie for him

•but he loves the carnival games the most — and despite them being rigged, he’s really good at them and wins basically every time

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You stood next to Idia, watching as he effortlessly got all the rings to land perfectly in their designated spots. The vendor seemed completely surprised and impressed by this, but nonetheless handed Idia his prize. Idia then gave the plushie to you, mumbling info about how he didn’t need it.

You guys then continued to stroll down the path between all the games and vendors, and you complimented his skills at ring toss. The tips of his hair immediately flared pink as he quickly avoided eye contact with you and fiddled with his fingers instead.

“Er— um— thanks” he stammered, “there was a carnival event in one of the games I play, and that was the game the character I wanted was playing. So I made my own version to play before I tried wishing for her, you know, to like give me luck or whatever so I could get her”

“And did you??”

His whole demeanor changed as he flashed you a cocky grin, “Gwee hee hee, of course I did. I would be just your common pleb if I couldn’t do something as simple as that. EZ”

You giggled and continued walking with him, when he mumbled to himself

“You know, this event might just be my favorite now”

• chances are Malleus didn’t even really know what a carnival actually was

• they’re probably not common in Briar Valley, and even if they were, he was probably never allowed to go to one. And even if he was, it wouldn’t be the same because it was probably rented out and no-one else was there

• suffice to say, he hadn’t ever gotten to experience what a real carnival was like

•kept to your side like a lost puppy, completely enamored with everything

• would be willing to try everything

• Lilia, Sebek and Silver would probably be trailing you guys — Lilia because he wants pictures, Sebek because he refuses to let you be alone with Malleus, and Silver because he wants to make sure the other two don’t do anything stupid.

• both of you know they’re there — they aren’t sneaky — but you guys elect to ignore them

• Malleus is probably not the best at the games because he puts too much strength and is liable to breaking them

• He loves all of it, but his favorite moment would probably have been the Ferris wheel

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The two of you were on the Ferris wheel, sitting side by side, and his hand rested on your forearm. Dusk had already settled in, so the view was gorgeous, especially as you reached the climax of the ride. Breaking the comfortable silence, Malleus turned to you.

“Thank you, Child of Man” he started “once again, you have enlightened me on experiences I never even dreamed of”

“With someone as old as you” you jest, nudging your elbow into his side, “I wasn’t sure if there was anything you didn’t know or had not experienced”

“With you, I am constantly learning new things” Malleus smiles, his gaze soft as he leans towards you

That is, until a screech could be heard from the sightseeing cabin behind you. It was soon cut short when someone slapped their hand over the other’s mouth, telling them shush, followed by the click of a camera shutter.

You simply giggled while Malleus sighed, before the smile returned to his face

“Ignore them. Focus on me, as you are the one who is the sole occupant of my thoughts”

593 notes · View notes

texas-bitch-yee · 8 months

Text

Dazai Crush headcanons

Bc I love crush headcanons they are clearly my fav if you scroll through my blog

Definitely a you fell first he fell harder type of moment

Even tho he’s a flirt i don’t think he gets too many crushes.

You would probably start out as friends and as he grows closer he starts to catch feelings. I feel like he’s the type to need to true connection with someone to get a crush. Someone he realizes he can be his true self around and not keep up his facade.

Once the realization hits he’ll need a little bit to process his emotions.

After he accepts his emotions he’ll definitely make an effort to be by you as much as he possibly can. You’re going on your lunch break how about I come with you? You’re going to the park on Saturday what a coincidence I was totally planning on going to the park on Saturday too.

Will try his best to make you laugh so he can see you smile.

Would try to woo you by showing off his wit. “Oh you love chocolate?? Well did you know in 1865-“

The agency would definitely know he’s crushing and yosano and ranpo ship y’all. Definitely egg yall on. “Dazai your outfit looks amazing today! What do you think , ____?”

Dazai would definitely throw flirty comments around but I feel like you wouldn’t take it seriously bc he’s dazai. But what you didn’t notice was he’s no longer flirting with anything that breathes the same air as him. Just you.

Dazai is definitely a lover of physical touch so I can see him ‘accidentally’ bumping into you or putting his hand on your shoulder. Taking something you hand him and brushing his fingers against yours for longer than what’s comfortable. Just simple little touches that make his heart race

He also loves words of affirmation so I can see him giving you compliments a lot. “I like that jacket on you ___ it suits you a lot” “wow you’re so good at this!! Can you teach me”

Definitely gushes and kicks his feet at night while holding his pillow like a teenage girl while thinking about y’all’s intentions that day.

Actually shows up early to stuff if you’re there. One time Kunikida freaked out and made him go home thinking he was sick “I’m just happy to be here” “🤯 it’s worse than I thought go home dazai”

You might hold the power to possibly making him blush. All these new emotions about you have him in a frenzy so it’s one of the few times you can catch him off guard.

I can see him bringing you little gifts since he’s a broke bitch. “Hey I got this donut this morning and i don’t want it anymore would you like it?” (Lies he purposefully bought that for you)

You often catch him looking at you but when he gets caught he just does that smirk at you. You know the one

Acts extra confident in front of you. Even though on the inside he’s losing it.

Weirdo probably has a picture of you somewhere that he just likes to glance at when he’s feeling down.

Starts tidying himself up. Nicely dressed, hair just so, he even splurged on some expensive cologne and probably goes a tad bit overboard putting it on. Will walk past you 100 times the first time he wears it hoping you pick up the sent and like it “dazai you smell good today you got plans or something?” “No 🤭”

Protective but not overprotective. He’s knows when you need his help and when you don’t.

If you’re a girl who wears lipstick daily you get bonus points. He loves lipstick especially red shades. Definitely takes your tube out of your purse and plays with it. Then goes to the store looks at the brand of lipstick and gets you another shade “you got me a gift what for?” “Idk just reminded me of you” “omg this is my favorite brand how did you know?”

I could go on and on but this is already too long and I have a college essay due in 3 days that I haven’t even started

#bsd #dazai #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #Dazai crush headcanons

234 notes · View notes

natalievoncatte · 1 year

Text

Lena was in the dark in more ways than one.

The lights in her penthouse were all dark save one, a night light in her en suite to ensure that she didn’t take a fall if she got up. Swirling the edge of a migraine, she’s grown tired of an again-delayed product launch and the hoary halls of power and their patriarchs. Few things frustrated her more than the spiteful condescension of old men clinging to a world with all the success of a man trying to gather all the sand in a desert through chapped fingers.

Few things annoyed her more.

One of those things, she could give no name. Since Lena had realized Kara’s identity, things had been tense between them. Mostly in a pleasant way; they had been feeling out this new normal, Kara tentatively broaching this or that topic to add to brunch chats and lunchtime gossip.

“Oh,” she’d say, “that last alien hit pretty hard,” as if being knocked clean through a fertilizer plant by a blow to the head were part of her commute.

To Lena it was all new, but there was something else with it. Something neither of them dared to name, some friable, delicate new shape that they could only feel by its edges. It began with Kara bombarding Lena with friendship. Fresh breakfasts hand-delivered at hypersonic speeds. Daily lunches. For the last month, Kara had spent every weekend at Lena’s, or vice versa.

Lena’s penthouse had a guest bedroom. Kara’s place had a bed and a sofa. Comfy, but it was no bed. That was how the dance began. The first steps were hesitant, the dancers circling each other without breaking the barrier. A token argument about who gets the bed, only for them both to share it. And once they’d shared it at Kara’s place, it made no sense for Lena to confine a living space heater to the guest room.

They didn’t discuss, or analyze, or talk it out. No boundaries were ever set, and so the dance continued. What started as two people curled up in a big king bed on opposite sides became the pair of them entangling during the night, then skipping the pretext and curling up with each other before the lights went out.

It was driving Lena insane. Kara never pushed, not really, and yet it just seemed to happen. It was as if her best friend was daring her to take the initiative. The morning when Lena awoke to find Kara’s arm protectively curled about her waist, her thumb hooked on the waistband of Lena’s lounge pants, she’d almost turned over and said something.

The excuse she made was that Kara needed her sleep after the pummeling she’d taken that afternoon. That Lena enjoyed how Kara grazed the pad of her thumb over Lena’s hip bone was incidental.

Lying in the dark, Lena knew that Kara had arrived by the sound of the balcony door opening and didn’t bother to call out to her. Still dressed in her suit, Kara peeked into the bedroom, her movements tentative, somehow almost birdlike.

She came back a moment later with a cool, damp cloth for Lena’s forehead and a few murmured questions, before excusing herself.

“Darling, you can stay,” Lena sighed. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” Kara whispered back, lightly seeping stray curls from Lena’s eyes. “I need to change. No peeking.”

And why would you be worried I’ll peek? Lena thought. A platonic Best Friend isn’t going to peek. Best friends don’t do that, just like they don’t nuzzle into each other on the couch. If Lena were Kara’s best friend, then Lena wouldn’t be looking so much, so openly. Admiring Kara’s smile and her biceps and the way her abdominal muscles strained those button-downs.

She wouldn’t be thinking so much about the touches, the way she’d sat in Kara’s lap for hours at a time or how Kara had carried her to bed or how Supergirl had lingered to cradle her post-rescue, well past the point of safety.

Lena wasn’t aware she was peeking until she’s already started. Kara’s suit had taken care of itself; it was her work clothes she needed to discard. When Lena turned over, there was the broad expanse of Kara’s beautifully muscled back, flexing deliciously as she pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

Because Kara kept multiple sets of PJs at Lena’s place.

In Lena’s bedroom.

Because this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Lena turned back, knowing with certainty that Kara knew. She must have heard the creaking of the mattress and the soft whisper of skin on silk sheets and the rapidity if Lena’s traitorous heart.

When Kara climbed in with Lena, the world shrank around the pair of them. Kara swept immediately to the boundary tonight, gathering Lena in her arms, hands finding spots just on this side of chaste, and their bodies molded together.

Lena was finally able to get some sleep.

When she awoke, later, Kara stirred with her.

“Zhao,” Kara muttered.

Lena froze, blinking in the dark. That wasn’t a nonsense word; it was Kryptonian.

“Come back. Zhao,” Kara muttered, as Lena stirred. She didn’t seem to be properly waking.

A nickname?

Lena couldn’t remember when she’d started calling Kara Darling, though she increasingly wished she had.

Dear diary, it was on this day at this date that I admitted my feelings to myself before wrapping them in cardboard and then in concrete and then in steel before shoving them somewhere deep down.

Kara, for her part, had tried a few pet names but most were one offs, never quite fitting. She’d even called Lena “buddy” once before Lena had cut that shit off with an arched brow.

Lena stilled. She could deny Kara nothing, and so drifted off to sleep.

By some quirk of fate, they woke almost at the same time. Lena was still groggy and bleary-eyed when Kara’s sky-blues flitted open, bringing more light than the sun itself. She shifted in the bed without letting Lena go and began to murmur something in Kryptonian, cutting herself off as that last sharp, buzzing word tumbled from her lips.

The only world froze. Kara stared at Lena with wide eyes, and the sudden tension between them made both women go rigid, neither willing to move, to break it.

“You called me that in your sleep,” Lena finally whispered. “Zhao. What does it mean?”

Kara was unusually pale.

“Oh, it’s sort of a term of endearment in Kryptonian. It means, um, ah…”

Lena sighed, cracking a soft smile. “Kara, I’m not fluent by any measure, but I know enough Kryptonian to know what Zhao means.”

“Oh,” Kara whispered, barely more than a short and sharp exhale.

“Even if I didn’t,” Lena whispered, locking eyes with her. “Your hand is literally on my ass right now.”

“Oh. Um. Golly. I’m sorry, I…”

Kara started to pull back. Lena gently took hold of Kara’s wrist and held her hand there. Her heart fluttered not only at the strength in Kara’s forearm but how those steel cable muscles went slack beneath her touch.

Lena swiveled her hips.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kara whispered.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got that covered,” said Lena.

Kara shivered. “No, I mean… I don’t know what to…” She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.

Lena pressed in closer, until the space between them was more a theoretical concept than an actuality.

“Just say what you want to say.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Lena snorted a laugh, briefly ashamed at her inner dork, and afraid that Kara would take offense.

“Kara, you’ve been sleeping over every weekend with your hand in my pants for months. Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

Kara grinned, starting to sit up.

“Come on, zhao,” said Kara.

Giving their partner a nickname/having their partner give them a nickname.

#prompt #supergirl fanfiction #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #ficlet #these are turning into random vignettes from their life together #waff #pointless waff #fluff #fluff with just the tiniest taste of angst #a little angst in the fluff is like salt in the pasta water #a little angst… as a treat

487 notes · View notes

pleasingforharry · 1 year

Text

Agree to Disagree

actress!yn

Y/N L/N and Harry Styles Argue Over The Internets Biggest Debates | Agree to Disagree | LaDbible TV

(Playing Leah and Matthew Hampton in the new movie, The Good and Bad Days)

“I honestly think my amazing singing abilities shouldn’t go unnoticed. I’m going to have my breakthrough one day,” You shrugged, speaking more to the crew behind the camera. Chuckles passed around, and Harry joined them.

“Yeah, what’s the name of your single going to be?” He asked, genuinely interested in your idea.

“I’ll probably name it after a vegetable because you apparently love singing about fruits and naming your songs after them.” Both you and Harry shared sneaky smirks, before glancing at the camera. “Think I just gave away a secret. Sorry not sorry.” Harry’s new album, Fine Line, hadn’t come out yet, nor did people know the names of the songs, so your comment exploded on stan Twitter.

Harry sighed, “Trying to expose me now, competitor?”

You pointed at the camera and exclaimed, “I’m coming for all those Grammys.”

“I thought you were rooting for me to get one?”

“I can’t root for the competition anymore, sorry,” You frowned, reaching a hand out across the table. Harry instantly took it, even though he was supposed to pretend he was offended, but he wouldn’t pass an opportunity to touch you. “I’ll add your name under mine in Sharpie so we can share it.”

[Agree To Disagree]

You and Harry looked at the table that had ‘Strongly Agree, Agree, Disagree, and Strongly Disagree written down in a line.

“I thought we were going to be working together,” Harry cocked a brow up, noticing two cups filled with water in front of each of you.

“Honey, it’s called Agree to Disagree,” you snorted, “we’re supposed to debate.” The producers had explained the simple concept to the both of you earlier, and Harry was there nodding at their words, but for some reason forgot everything that was said.

You slapped your hand on your forehead while Harry huffed, “This isn’t going to go well at all.”

“Why so?” You asked, feeling for his feet under the table. There was no cloth covering the sides, so the camera captured Harry tangling his legs with yours. The fans were already in the mist of making edits with that clip.

“Because the nights when we’re up talking, and supposedly “debating” about stuff, I always end up agreeing with you in the end.”

You looked at the camera and smirked. “All true. I’m one persuasive gal.” Instead of verbally agreeing, Harry pushed his glass over to Strongly Agree, and a chorus of laughter strung around the room.

“I think that’s why we’re working out just peachy.”

“Did you just label our relationship peachy?” You squinted your eyes at him.

Harry only shrugged. “I like fruits, what can I say?”

Y/N L/N Leah Hampton

“Alright I’m ready,” you rubbed your hands together and wiggled your brows at your boyfriend across from you.

Harry Styles Matthew Hampton

“Are they easy questions?” Harry asked to the crew behind the camera.

HARRY’S ACCENT SOUNDS BETTER THAN Y/N’S

Both you and Harry darted your eyes to your glasses then to each other. You were the first to break out into loud laughter, throwing your head back. Harry rolled his lips inwards and sighed.

“Okay wait, let’s choose then talk about this,” You put one hand up while the other moved your glass to Strongly Agree. Harry paused, thinking about it, before sliding his glass to Disagree. “Oh? You don’t agree?”

He shook his head and leaned back into his chair. “I think yours is beautiful.”

“Oh, what a suck-up,” You laughed, kicking him softly. He blushed slightly and adjusted in his seat. “I know for a fact, Mr. Narcissist, that you think your accent is ten times better than mine.”

“No,” He frowned. You turned to face the camera and gave it a bored look. “Y/N, I always compliment your accent. I think it suits you very well.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t absolutely adore the power your accent has over the world,” You smirked. Harry stayed silent, and you flipped your hair behind your shoulder dramatically. “Would you like me to move your glass?” You asked him.

He shook his head and wrapped his hand around it to push it farther, landing on Strongly Disagree. Instead of acknowledging your scoff, he turned to the crew and camera.

“Y/N has a lovely accent and I think it’s better than mine. Signed Harry E. Styles,” Harry announced, before using the tip of his finger to scribble on the table.

“Well, there you have it folks,” You laughed.

“Next.”

DOGS ARE BETTER COMPANIONS THAN CATS

You both didn’t hesitate to drag your glasses to Strongly Agree, before leaning forward to high five each other.

“No need to bother debating about that,” Y/N rested her chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

Harry said, “I think cats are great, but dogs are just better. Nothing against them,” he then motioned to you, “and Y/N said her spirit animal is an Australian Shepherd, so I think that just enhances my love for dogs even more.”

You giggled and scrunched your nose at him. “Thank you, honey.” Then you pointed at him. “But you know, people started comparing you to cats, so that might be your spirit animal.”

“Do they now?” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, but I agree with them. Especially cuddling-wise. You snuggle up on me just like a cat would, which I love very much.”

The crew behind the camera awed and laughed as Harry blushed at his girlfriend. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

“You’re never beating those cat allegations, kid.”

The producer suddenly spoke up. “So, if we were to bring out a litter of puppies and kittens, which would you want to—”

“Wait, that’s unfair. Both puppies and kittens are adorable. I love them both,” You groaned.

“You immediately moved your glass to Strongly Agree, Y/N,” They laughed.

Harry chipped in, “No, I get it. Dogs and cats are different from puppies and kittens.”

You crossed your arms over each other. “Even though it would be difficult, I’d still choose the puppies. But I would, like, sneak a hand over to pet some kittens,” You said, slowly reaching over for Harry’s hand and brushing the back of it.

“Oh, am I said kitten?” He questioned with a chuckle.

“It’s the snuggling. You can’t convince me otherwise that you aren’t spiritually a cat.”

Y/N IS A BETTER SINGER THAN HARRY

Harry glared at the crew with a smirk, knowing they were just trying to get him in trouble. Y/N only shrugged and moved her glass to Strongly Agree.

“I’ve asked him multiple times if I could be featured in one of his songs, but he said my singing f[bleep]king sucks,” Y/N said. Harry immediately slammed a hand on the table and scoffed loudly.

“I never said that!”

Y/N gave him a bored look. “Did you not?”

“I would never, I think your voice is amazing,” He started, nudging his leg against hers, “but what I did say was: I wasn’t doing any collaborations on the album. It has nothing to do with you, babe.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, before turning to the camera. “Did he not just say the same damn thing I just did?”

Everyone laughed.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry sighed.

“I honestly think my amazing singing abilities shouldn’t go unnoticed. I’m going to have my break through one day,” You shrugged. Chuckles passed around, and Harry joined them.

“Yeah, what’s the name of your single going to be?” He asked.

Harry sighed, “Trying to expose me now, competitor?”

You pointed at the camera and exclaimed, “I’m coming for all those Grammys.”

“I thought you were rooting for me to get one?”

WINTER IS BETTER THAN SUMMER

Both you and Harry had to think about it. You tapped your nails against the glass.

“I’m torn because I like both,” You said to Harry. He nodded, before looking back down at the table. “We go to the beach and stuff during the summer, but I really like traveling with you during winter. Especially during the holidays and New Years, ya know?”

“Is it because you get to kiss me, Ms. L/N?” Harry wiggled his brows. You blinked at him, before looking at the camera.

“Maybe summer isn’t so bad after all.”

“Hey!”

You finally decided to move your glass to Agree, then Harry followed. “Why so, Mr. Harold?” Your chin found your palm again.

He shrugged, “You like winter better, and I like you, so that’s enough convincing I need.” Yeah, the fandom was going crazy over the video, and you were scared to open any social media platforms the next day.

“See, I’m very persuasive without even needing to try.”

“But actually, I do enjoy winter activities more, like the outdoor ice skating and the cliché hot chocolate while laying together near a fire. I’m a real romantic,” Harry said.

“You should be in a rom-com. I’d kill to see you in one,” You exclaimed. “But I think I’d get jealous of the female lead, so probably not.”

Harry smirked, “Who said you wouldn’t be the female lead?” Both of you winked at the camera. “Besides, I do all the rom-com stuff from the movies with you in real life.”

“That is true.” You turned to the crew to tell a quick story. “Last year, the week before Christmas, we went to New York and did all the most cheesy ‘couples during the holiday’ things ever. Remember?” Harry nodded. “Then went to his hometown to do it all over again. And come Christmas Eve—”

“Stayed up with hot chocolate, cookies, Christmas karaoke and movies, and watched Santa on a tracker to see when he’d stop by. It was great,” Harry finished, sighing while he reminisced.

You did too. “New Years was fun, as well.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll do everything again this year,” Harry held your hand.

“I’m counting on it.”

HARRY SHOULD BE CONSIDERED IN THE RUNNING FOR THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE MAGAZINE

Harry waited for your decision first with a smirk. You only furrowed your brows in thought. “What?” Harry asked you.

“I mean, I don’t really need a magazine to remind me that you’re the sexiest man alive. I always know that,” You shrugged. Harry covered his eyes in embarrassment. He was horrible with compliments, especially from people who’s opinion mattered a lot to him.

The producer said, “Can I add a glass so I can put it on Strongly Agree because I definitely agree with your statement.”

“He’s not going to say what he thinks, so you can use his,” You said, moving Harry’s glass to Strongly Agree. You pushed your own next to his, before turning in your chair to the producer. “People magazine should start a yearly ‘Funniest Dad Joker Man Alive’ then Harry would love to be considered in the running. Can you reach out to them and ask?”

The producer gave you a thumbs up. Harry giggled, keeping his hand over his eyes, but his dimpled smile was a dead giveaway that he was enjoying this.

“I’d like him to run for ‘Most Beautiful Man Alive’ because then that should make me the most beautiful woman by association, right?” You suggested.

“Not exactly, but we do think you’d win,” The producer said.

“Also, there should be a couples version,” You shook your finger.

“For sexiest or most beautiful?” Harry chipped in to ask. His hand moved from his eyes so you could look at him.

You shrugged nonchalantly, “Either or, we’d win anyways.” Harry threw his head back to laugh. “What other category would we dominate for a couple’s version?”

Harry bit his lip to think about it. You could tell he was coming up with a Harry joke simply from his slow smile.

“Oh no,” You chuckled.

“Best Accents, specifically Y/N,” He looked at the camera.

You shook your head at him. “Please tell me you weren't still thinking about that, honey. We moved on.”

“I could’ve brought up the collaboration—”

“Okay, next one!”

THE GOOD AND BAD DAYS NEEDS A SEQUEL

You thought that was actually a great question because you weren’t sure.

“I mean,” You slurred, slowly moving your glass to Agree. Harry kept a short smile on his lips as he stared at you, rather than your glass. You suddenly grew shy. “What?”

“You’re very pretty. I like looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand between your face and Harry’s line of vision. Harry’s legs played with yours, but you upright ignored him.

“I think there should be a sequel, because even though I think it ended perfectly, people would probably want more of Leah and Matthew’s story. They’d want to know what they’re doing after the circumstances of the ending—can’t say much until it’s out—but I’d like another movie.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I think whether there’s a sequel or not, Leah and Matthew got what they really needed. They are happy, which calls for a happy ending. And more conflicts will definitely show up in their long run, so if another movie wants to touch on that, I’d love to see it,” he said.

“I think you guys are going to like the movie as it is and don’t even need a sequel because you’ll be satisfied. But we’ll see,” You shrugged.

“Thank you so much for having us,” Harry spoke first.

“Go check out The Good and Bad Days when it comes out in theaters,” You added. “Have a great day, sincerely, from your favorite peachy couple.”

Harry laughed and raised a thumbs up. “Bye.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles blurb #actress!yn

974 notes · View notes