#the stars wrote us into a poem

[heart-songs]

all the colors were soft, all the sounds were whispers morning spilled us like salt and sunlight on the floor the blanket of day sprawled beneath us stolen moments threaded into golden hours the warmth of those hours unclenched the hand of night, and the stars wrote us into a poem

- Cora Finch

#poetry #love poem #love poetry #romantic poetry #love as light #softness #tenderness #golden hour #stars #connection #intimacy #my writing #cora finch #heartsongs #poem #270 #the stars wrote us into a poem

[speedbumps]

ALEX ALBON - stargazing

fix your eyes upon the skies, young man only among the stars does one's destiny become apparent

@f1blrcreatorsfest week 2: space

#alex albon #graphics #by me #f1blrcreatorsfest23 #and just sneaking it in! i couldn't not do this prompt i love using space aesthetics and stars in edits #the prose in the post is from a poem a friend of mine wrote! it had a lot of like space imagery and i couldn't stop thinking about it

[pragmatic-optimist]

how can i call this intimacy if i crave sharp edges but your edges aren't even edges they are soft landings how do i teach myself  to accept a healthy love if all i’ve ever known is pain - rupi kaur

listen on spotify || current run time: 2 hrs 9 min

a collection of every song that has served as fic inspo for the epic emotional rollercoaster ride known as a @reyescarlos​ // ksmalltalk story on AO3.

featuring:

sanctuary - nashville cast // can i be him - james arthur // there's no way - lauv ft. julia michaels // mad - ne-yo // sudden desire - hayley williams // share your address - ben platt // little talks - of monsters and men // waking up slow - gabrielle aplin // all through the night - sleeping at last (cover) // love you for a long time - maggie rogers // who am i - needtobreathe ft. elle king // sweetest devotion - adele // let's fall in love for the night - finneas // no right to love you - rhys lewis // somebody special - nina nesbitt // i guess i'm in love - clinton kane // the man who can't be moved - the script // give me the future - bastille // memo - years & years // the few things jp saxe ft. charlotte lawrence +more!

(thank you @carsonnshaw for the stunning gif!💗)

#happy birthday kim!!!! 😊 #in the early days of our friendship we talked A LOT about music #and how it inspires your writing #i loved every moment of those conversations and when a song pops up on my shuffle #and it's one that inspired a fic you wrote #or a WIP you have #it reminds me of how blessed i am to call someone as wonderful and brilliant as you #(with top-tier musical taste) my friend #love when we swap songs back and forth and make sure to point out the angstiest lyric in the song by sharing a screenshot LOL #today is a national holiday okay?! #hope you're living it up in whatever way makes you the happiest! #HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY! #playlist title inspired by rupi kaur #this poem is so tk and carlos that it kills me #i think it also captures the heart of your tarlos fics and the journey you take us on #heartbreaking and honest and beautiful like your stories #tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic song inspo #tarlos fic playlist #happy birthday kim 2022 🥳 #kim tag ✍️✨

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Literally all of my writing screams: “I wanna run around in the woods so bad but I live in the suburbs so I’m resigned to pining” (pun intended).

#sentience? set in the woods #mountain climber poetry allegory? set in the woods #oasis? set in the woods #nightview? set in the woods #creepy old Star Trek fanfic I wrote in 7th grade? set in the woods in winter #my poems? about the woods #and I wrote my first poem while my parents drove us up to the woods #my songs? sound like they should be played in the woods #I mean come on #and my clothes #are made to be worn in the woods

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

[mariana-oconnor]

Types of AO3 Summary

Option 1 - The Excerpt:

The quickest, the easiest! Find a section of your fic that contains the main premise of said fic and also showcases your writing. Copy paste that into the summary box. BOOM! Done.

Best used for any fic, unless it's so short the excerpt would be the whole fic.

Option 2 - The No Frills:

Just a description of the fic. No need for drama. No need to complicate matters. Keep it simple, keep it safe.

Example: "A short character exploration of Blorbo's thoughts after Daisy leaves."

Best used for short fics, poems and fics where the style/format is more important than the plot. Or fics that tie directly into a scene/episode from canon or another fanfic.

Option 3 - The Hook:

Draw the reader's interest by giving them a set up with no conclusion. Introduce the main character(s), introduce the status quo, describe an inciting incident, leave a question in the reader's mind.

Example: "Blorbo is a barista at a coffee shop, struggling to pay their bills, but after handsome rockstar Obrolb walks into their coffee shop they find that they have to decide whether a chance at love is worth the cost of fame."

Best used for mid to long fic where there's a strong premise and follow through. Especially good for AUs. Can be expanded for more complex plots or used multiple times in one summary for multiple characters or subplots.

Option 4 - The Sitcom One-Liner:

"The one in which [over simplified description of one of the main plotlines]" This is essentially 'boil your plot down to the very simplest statement you can, oversimplify if possible. The more bizarre or unhelpful the better.

Example: "The one in which Blorbo learns to like cake".

Best used for fics with at least a little humour in them.

Option 5 - The Rule of Three:

Three is a magic number. Find three key moments in your fic and just list them. That's it. Often ends with 'not necessarily in that order' if used for comic effect. If it's an AU, establish that quickly (i.e. 'Star NHL player Blorbo…').

Example: "Blorbo makes a friend, falls in love, and almost burns to death, not necessarily in that order."

Best used for anything, really. Three is a magic number. The human brain loves things that come in threes.

Option 6 - The Trope Lure:

Why bother describing the plot? We all know AO3 readers are here for the tropes. Similar to The Sitcom One-Liner just using tropes instead of plot. Often followed by the phrase 'that nobody asked for'.

Example: "The Space western / A/B/O / Mail Order Bride fic that nobody asked for."

Often tacked on to the end of The Hook or The Excerpt as a tl;dr.

Best used for fic that plays its tropes straight with no shame or second guessing.

Option 7 - The Pre-emptive Strike:

(Not recommended) You just wrote this fic, the self doubt is consuming you. You feel the need to apologise profusely for your existence for no apparently reason. You feel cringe, you think the fic is cringe, you want everyone to know that you think the fic is cringe in case they don't like it and judge you for it.

Example: "So I fell in love with this pairing and had to write this. It's weird and terrible. Lol! I suck at summaries! Sorry!"

Best used for no fics ever. I cannot stress this enough.

(Seriously, I am begging you, don't do this. If you're planning to use this option, rethink it and do one of the others. I guarantee you more people will want to read your fic.)

Sometimes added on to any other summary as a strange disclaimer. (srsly. don't.)

Option 8 - The Unapology:

Embrace the mayhem, embrace the deep dark depths of your soul. The opposite of The Pre-emptive Strike. A combination of The No Frills and The Trope Lure that truly gives no fucks.

You have committed crimes and you are proud of them. You know what your USP is and you're going to make sure your target market finds you. Look upon my works, ye readers, and despair!

Example: "There aren't enough tentacle fics in this pairing, so I had to write one myself!"

Best used for fics with controversial/polarising tropes with all relevant details already clearly stated in the tags.

Option 9 - The Interrogation:

What if you wrote a summary entirely in questions? What if your readers had to read the fic to discover the answers? Who knows what will happen if you do this?

Example: "What happens when Blorbo McBlorbo gets his wish and Daisy doesn't make it to the plane on time? What happens when Obrolb finds out? How will this change Daisy and Blorbo's friendship?"

Best used for... I honestly don't know. This style of summary does not vibe with me. Mystery fic maybe? Sorry guys.

Option 10 - The Multipack:

Got a bunch of shorter fics in one work? No way of summarising them all without a wall of text larger than the Great Wall of China? This one is similar to The No Frills in that you're not describing the plots themselves and similar to The Trope Lure in that often broader genres and tropes are mentioned. What links those fics? Are they all in the same fandom? The same pairing? The same challenge? Just slap that right in the summary. A chapter list with 1-2 word trope/pairing summaries can be included or not.

Example: "A collection of Blorbo/Daisy/Obrolb fics based on Tumblr prompts. Chapter 1: Regency AU Chapter 2: Werewolves vs vampires Chapter 3: Ghost!Daisy Chapter 4: Space pirates!"

Best used for (obviously) works that are compilations of fic.

Option ? - The Void:

I said The Excerpt was the quickest and easiest summary to do. I lied, well... I didn't exactly lie. What is quicker and easier than not having a summary at all? After all, that's what the tags are for.

Example:

Best used for... nothing? Write a summary, guys. Please?

#AO3 #fandom #on writing #clearing out my drafts #long post #Qd #This list is intended for entertainment purposes only #I just came across a lot of fic summaries that followed similar rules #so I decided to post this about it #I'm sure other options are available #If you've ever used number 7 that's not bad of you #But my advice would be to not do that

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my her ex I read her poetry?

I (F19) dated my ex (F18, Lacy) for about 9 months. I broke up with her because she had a lot of issues I just didn't know how to deal with and I also fell in love with my best friend (NB19, Alex, he/his pronouns), so I decided it was the best course of action. I broke up with Lacy on January of 2023 and started dating Alex in February.

Around this time, I found an Instagram account that posted poetry. There was nothing that could identify the author, but the poetry was really good so I started to follow them. With time, however, the poems started to look... familiar. Not the writing style, but some situations on them, for example: one of them said something like "your brother's night sky truck that took us to the stars" (my older brother has a dark blue truck he would lend me so I could take Lacy on dates) and another said "that old guitar you had that you never learned to play like you played me" (I have an old guitar I inherited from my father and I indeed never learned how to play it). These are only two examples, but I found many others that convinced me that account belonged to Lacy.

I know I should have left it alone the second I realized the account belonged to her, but it was so flattering to see she wrote all of that about me. I didn't tell anyone, not my friends or Alex, but I kept following the account and reading Lacy's poetry. I think my feelings for her started to rekindle after that, because no one ever wrote about me like that and, as months passed, she kept writing about me. She never got over me.

My relationship with Alex also started to have problems during this time. He got a job at an ice cream parlour and he started a D&D campain with his friends, which means we started to spend less and less time together. He didn't seem to be as interested in me as he was during our first months of relationship, and I feel like he's taking me for granted. Lately, more specifically since December, we started to fight a lot over small things too.

We went to a New Year's party one of our friends was hosting and Lacy was there too. That enough was reason for Alex to start complaining, since he has a lot of feelings of jealousy regarding her. We ended up having a fight because he thought I knew she'd be there, which I didn't, and he went to stay with our friends, avoiding me the whole night.

It was New Year's eve and I had just fought with my partner, who was monopolizing all of our friends and leaving me by myself, so I started to drink. I know that wasn't a good idea, but I was angry and frustrated and I thought that would help. It didn't, I just got super drunk.

Since my filter disappears when I'm drunk, I went after Lacy and told her her poetry was really good. At first she was confused, so I said I found her poetry account and her poems were amazing, and I was flattered she still thought about me like that, because I didn't think anyone else ever saw me in such a beautiful way.

After that, the panic in her eyes became clear. She started to cry, not full on sobbing but some tears rolled down her face and she didn't answer me, just left. Alex saw the interaction and came to ask me what happened. I ended up telling him about Lacy's poetry account, we fought again and I decided to go home. In that same night, I searched for the poetry account and it was deleted.

This whole situation didn't leave my head since it happened and I don't know what to think. Alex has also been avoiding me and I don't understand why everyone seems to be against me. Lacy blocked me everywhere and I'm beginning to think leaving her for Alex was a huge mistake. It was also never my intention to make Lacy feel like she had to delete her account.

AITA for telling her I knew about the poetry account?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[thefandomthings]

𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Middle Brothers (Separate) x Gn!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive in both (🤭), fluff,

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I am so sorry this took so long, and I apologize is Asmo is ooc, I'm not good at writing him lol

Tags: @veethewriter @demon-master-zero

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 Part 2

I believe Satan is a sucker for old school romance, you can't tell me otherwise.

He loves the idea of sending each other love letters and poems.

He often writes about you, by often I mean everytime he writes, it's about you.

Satan even uses an ink pen and paper, his penmanship is extraordinary.

He isn't really into romance novels, but in some of his mystery/murder-mysterys there is romance

You've read a handful of Satan's books, plus your own collection.

You've recently started reading an older Novel, it's written very poetic, the main characters have started exchanging small love notes to one another.

That gave you the most brilliant idea, you'd start writing notes to Satan, leaving them on his book marks and on the inside cover of his new novels.

Satan is very witty, it takes a lot to make him get flustered, but the first note he received from you, he blushed.

You've never been one to openly talk about how you are feeling, you express yourself in different ways, such as gift giving or quality time. You've also noticed Satan has a hard time expressing himself, instead resorts to poetry and writing love letters to you.

You are currently sitting in the HoL library, your current novel sitting on your lap. You messed with the spoon in your luke warm tea while reading the poetic lines. You smiled as the main characters declared their love for each other, a warm feeling flooding in your chest.

You are desperately waiting for Satan to come back from his meeting with Diavolo and his brothers, wanting to see his face when the little folded piece of paper slips out from his new book.

It took you quite a long time to think of this note, it's a poem. It probably sounds lame next to Satan's poetry, you've read famous poets work and they are nothing compared to The Avatar of Wraths'.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Library door opens. Satan gave a small smile, his teeth aren't showing it's just a small curve of his lips.

"Hello Kitten"

He leans down and kisses your forehead rather gently before grabbing his book and sitting next to you. You instinctively stretch your legs out into his lap, his slender fingers brushing against the skin of your ankle and shin.

Satan uses his other hand to open his book, and just as you planned the small piece of paper slowly falls into his lap against your legs. You shyly hide behind your book, pretending to read. You could feel his chest and torso rumble while he read the poem to himself.

It's hard to remember what you wrote, the adrenaline making you loose your memory and only focus on now.

You do remember how hard you thought about all the write words, and what kind of poem it would be. To make his heart flutter the way he makes yours leap and soar. To make him feel the tingling sensation that spreads into your finger tips when you feel yourself falling in love more and more.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin, his hands gliding further up your legs before gripping under your knees and bringing you into his lap.

Your nose was pressed to headband of your book, the delightful smell of the old paper pages filling your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, you could feel the tingling of the blush spreading down your neck and to your ears.

Satan could only chuckle and remove the book from your face and set it on the sofa beside him. His hands set themselves on your hips, his glowing green eyes shining like brightest star in a dark night.

He gently kissed you, his hands moving to cup your face and rub your cheek bones. The kiss was full of love and passion, slow and steady. Both of your hearts pounding in your chest, skin on fire from each others touch.

He pulled away and hugged you, his head rested against your neck and shoulder. Your chest fluttered, your heart was in your throat as Satan's lips brushed against your pulse then he spoke.

"I love you"

I strongly think Asmo designs clothes, and you are his muse and model.

He absolutely loves when you agree to be his inspiration.

And he also loves when you let him take your measurements. He likes how your body feels in his hands.

Asmo is very observant, it doesn't seem like it cause he's utterly obsessed with himself. But he knows everything about everyone. (Gossip King)

He especially knows every detail about you, you decide if that's creepy or sweet.

He absolutely loves when you tease him when working, it gives him excitement!

"MC, My darling muse I need your beauty." Asmo falls against his bed next to you, his delicate skin pressed against his silk pillowcase. You hum setting your phone down and moving his hair away from his eyes the way he likes. He smiled looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"What are you thinking and what was your inspiration?" You asked leaning on your arm. Asmo was quiet, his eyes scanning your face and down your body.

"You are always inspiration Darling." He smiled before hoping out of his bed and opening his fabric closet. You giggled and stood next to your boyfriend admiring the hundreds of fabrics.

"Stand over here." He points to the large wood box coated in glitter and pink paint. You nodded slipping off your clothes, leaving only your undergarments.

"MC, you devious human." Asmo giggled, suddenly appearing behind you. His slim hands glided around your body adjusting the measuring tape at your hip. "Always so beautiful..".

Your skin erupted with goosebumps, your shoulders shaking with a slight shiver at his touch. He giggles, he nails running over you rub cage.

"Hold still MC, or my measurements will be wrong." He pressed gently kisses along your skin, your face was rosy staring down at his thick, pink hair.

"Asmo, the tape is loose." You teased watching him adjust the tape.

"You little Minx.." He bit the soft flesh of your hip making you yelp. He giggled loudly before walking over to his sowing machine and writing your measurements on his note pad.

You reached down for your clothes but his voice stopped you, "Keep them off Love, I still need more measurements." His smile was sweet, but devilish.

God, he loved looking at you. So comfortable in his presence, just helping him gives him joy he hasn't had since the fall. You help him in more ways then one. And he loves you more than anything, including himself. And he never lets your forget that.

#obey me headcannons #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #obey me satan #satan x reader #obey me fluff #obey me smut #gender nuetral reader #thefandomthings

[machiavellli]

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

#theodore nott headcanons #my headcanons #my gif #Theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #Slytherin #Harry Potter fandom #theo nott x reader #Theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #breeding k1nk #theodore nott smut #theodore nott scenarios #preggo kink #Theodore nott x pregnant!reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter headcanon #fem reader #slytherin friend group #smut #italian literature #poetry #slytherin boys x you #theodore nott #pregnancy k1nk #Theodore nott aesthetic #new Roman Empire unlocked #dark academia

[lemons4u]

Hello, Pri! How are you? If you're ok w/ it, may I have the anemo boys with a s/o who enjoys seating on their lap? (Sfw)

notes ! OKAY THIS LITERALLY TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER, so i’m really sorry 😭 and also i’m doing great thank you! also not proofread (my grammar is a little bad anyways so)

warnings ! fluff, heizou’s part is suggestive

v e n t i

he loves it when you sit on his lap! it gives him a nice a sense of comfort… to have you so close to him.

he also thinks it adorable lmao.

IMAGINE.

sitting in his lap while you both are out at the statue of seven at windrise— he’s putting windwheel asters in your hair as you read to him or something.

or maybe he’ll hum a tune for you!

it’s depends what he’s feelings like :3

“your hair is looking beautiful today, hehe..” venti cooed, tucking yet another flower in your hair.

“hmmh..” he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. “no thank you?” he asked with a grin.

“no.” you reply, continuing to read your book.

“hmph. are you really going to treat your darling boyfriend like this?” he pouted before smiling again.

“yeah.”

“your so mean to me.”

x i a o

xiao gets a bit (very) flustered, the poor guy isn’t used to all of these acts of affection :<

the first time you asked he was like.

“you… wanna sit on my lap?” he’s adorable, oh my god.

IMAGINE.

sitting out on like a hill or smth, idk, watching the stars— on xiao’s lap.

it’s a really cute a wholesome thing that both of you (i’m assuming) like to do.

it’s usually really quiet, unless xiao decides to tell you about his day.

“i spoke a little with the traveller today.” he murmured, fiddling with your hair.

“aw.. you did?” you tilted your head.

xiao didn’t really speak to anyone aside from you, so it made you happy when your boyfriend finally decides to speak with someone.

“about what though?”

“about you.. the traveller wanted to ask you some questions— but i told them i could answer them instead.” he said dully.

“i could’ve answered them myself..” you mutter.

“i know that… but i felt like talking about you at that moment.”

you laugh a little. “oh really? you wanted to speak about me?”

“yes… i mean you are my s/o right? i can speak about you… unless you don’t want me to?”

“no! it’s fine if you wanna talk about me…”

“are you… sure?”

“yes i’m sure!”

k a z u h a

he’s like venti, he loves when you sit on his lap :3

maybe he’d be a little surprised at first, but he doesn’t object.

IMAGINE.

the two of you sitting out on the crux, watching the sunset reflect on the ocean. (idk)

you could be reading a poem he wrote to you— or you could just genuinely be talking to each other.

either way it’s adorable.

“kazuuu.. this poem is adorable.” you coo, smiling fondly at the piece he dedicated to you.

“is it? i really don’t think it’s all that good.. compared to my other poems.”

“nono! it is! i absolutely love this one..” you say in defense.

“oh…? i thought it was a bit… um.. corny?” kazuha said with a laugh.

“well it’s not… i think it’s quite lovely.” you cross your arms.

“whatever you say, love…” he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“whatever you say..”

h e i z o u

he finds a way to tease you for it… like this man literally will not stop teasing you when you ask him to sit on his lap.

when you first ask him he’s like this though…

“oh? you wanna sit on my lap?” he grinned at you.

“how could i ever deny such a request?” he cooed.

“but… may i ask why you wanna sit on my lap?”

he’s got a very dirty mind so like… um, just be aware.

IMAGINE.

sitting on his lap while he works on his cases or smth, idk.

i actually hc he rushes through his work, so like he always makes mistakes.

but then you, his beautiful s/o, can help him fix them!

(he 100% makes mistakes on purpose)

“mmhhm..” heizou arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

he craved to feel your body against his.

“you… made a mistake over here..” your murmur, circling it so he could fix it later.

“oh? did i? my, my… i’ve been making so many mistakes recently.” he smiled innocently.

“maybe you should doublecheck my papers, just in case.”

that… was just excuse to have on his lap for even longer. ( he probably wants it and likes more than you do )

“i’m already double checking them.”

“hmm… triple check?”

“heizou.”

“hehe..”

w a n d e r / s c a r a m o u c h e

“no.”

was the only thing you heard when you first asked scara.

you would just have to beg then.

IMAGINE.

whining and complaining to scara about literally just sitting on his lap—

it was a small thing, really, but were you just going to let it go? nope.

“pleaseee scara! all the other couples do it!” you pout, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“yeah… and i’m not like those other couples.” he responded coldly.

“arghh.. you suck.” you whine, flopping down on the bed.

“hmph..” he crossed his arms.

“you are making such a big deal. it’s really nothing major.”

“to me it is.” you frown.

there’s a moment of silence before a idea pops up in your head, it was probably a bad one… but whatever!

“i bet any other guy would let me..” you sigh, almost dreamily.

“what?”

“mhm.. like childe…”

you were answered by silence once again.. scaramouche was just staring out, arms crossed with a unreadable expression.

“fine then.”

before you knew scaramouche rushed to the bed beside you— tackling you into his lap.

“your gonna stay here now.”

“but..”

“nuh uh.”

#venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #venti x you #xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao x you #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x you #heizou x y/n #scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #answered — ✋ #anon — 🧸 #i put wayyy too many tags lmao

[ilovepedro]

Yellow | joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel take a well-deserved vacation to the secluded countryside of Texas. Unbeknownst to you, Joel has a special surprise up his sleeve.

Word count: ~3.7k (oopsies)

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: no outbreak AU (Sarah is alive and well, but she isn’t in this), established relationship, smut like lots of it, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), overstimulation, soft!joel (idc if he’s OOC, i love that big ol’ softie), so much fluff, hella petnames (baby, darlin, babydoll, honey), reader is female, but has no physical description. NO USE OF Y/N

A/N: this is my first time writing any sort of fanfiction with a developed brain lol. i’ve had this idea for a while since Joel’s been rotting my brain for the past year-ish. i'm also a big fan of Pablo Neruda and i was reading some of his poems while listening to my love song playlist so i was feeling sappy lol. this is based on one of my favorite love songs, Yellow by Coldplay. feel free to listen while you read! shoutout to @gracieheartsspedro for your kind words and for giving me the confidence boost to post 🩷 and thank you to all of y’all for being so sweet to me and welcoming me here with open arms <3

star banner by @benkeibear 🌟

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

“Dance with me, honey.” The strumming guitar intro to Yellow by Coldplay flutters through the speaker and invades the cool evening breeze as the sun sets. The moon and stars begin to peek through the cotton candy skies. Joel holds his hand out to you as the two of you unwind in the field behind the remote Texas lake house you two are staying at for the week. A long overdue vacation for the both of you, you’ve spent your last full day basking in the refreshing water of the lake, seeking relief from the brutal Texas summer sun.

You gladly take his hand, flashing him a saccharine smile as you intertwine your fingers with his. “Joel Miller, ever the charmer,” you say as he wraps an arm around your waist. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, bashful like a schoolboy. Your stomach flutters as he still manages to give you butterflies after 3 years of being with him. He quietly rasps the lyrics in your ear.

I came along

I wrote a song for you

He lifts his head up to meet your gaze, matching the saccharine look that adorns your face. His heart is so full, so overwhelmed with how much he loves you. You’ve turned him into a sap, but he wouldn’t change a thing. “You’re so damn beautiful, baby. ‘M almost the luckiest man in the world.” You quirk your brow, a curious smirk lacing your features. “Almost?” 

And all the things you do

And it was called Yellow

He twirls you with a smile, eliciting a giggle from you. His chest blooms with warmth - a mixture of bliss and nerves. He twirls you one more time, your head thrown back as you let out a hearty laugh. Suddenly, he’s down on one knee holding the most beautiful ring before he loses his confidence to ask you the most important question of your lives. You turn back to him, a gasp escaping your lungs as tears well in your eyes.

So then I took my turn

Oh what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow

“Almost, darlin’, ‘cause you’ll make me the luckiest man in the world after this. You know me better than anyone, darlin’, so ya know ‘m no good at this type of stuff, but I hope you know that I’ll do anything for you, baby. I didn’t expect to find my other half that day we met. Was just tryna get my coffee and go ‘cause I didn’t wanna be late. But, god, you looked so damn cute in that pretty blue sweater. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. So beautiful you distracted me and I spilled my coffee all over ya. ‘M glad I did though, ‘r else I wouldn’t’ve taken ya out to dinner to make it up to you. Ended up bein’ late anyway, but I’d be late everyday if it meant seein’ your pretty lil’ smile. You make me wanna be a better man ‘n I hope ‘m everything you could ever want ‘cause ‘s what you are to me. You're the best partner, best woman, best momma. You’re the best momma to Sarah, honey. Can’t thank ya enough for lovin’ her as your own. You make her, us, me, so goddamn happy, baby. I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t put a ring on your pretty little finger, honey. Shit, ‘m one for not doing this sooner. Thank you for lovin’ me and bein’ so patient with my stubborn ass. I know I ain’t easy to deal with. My knees are killin’ me though, baby, so I got a real important question for you: will you marry me, darlin’?”

Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so

You’re smiling so hard your face hurts. Tears cascading down your face, which you don’t realize until you taste the salty water on your lips. “Yes, Joel,” you unintentionally whisper, Joel having knocked the air from your lungs. His smile grows wider. He gently slips the ring on your left ring finger. You lean down to kiss him, but he meets you halfway as he goes to stand. He cups your cheeks in his large, warm hands with your hands encompassing his. Pressing a deep kiss to one another’s lips, a kiss full of warmth, life, love - a promise of forever.

“Joel, baby,” you say as you pull away, hands still resting atop his while he delicately holds you. Your voice is wobbly as you’re still silently crying. You’re rendered speechless for the first time in your life. Your heart has never felt this full. You’ve never felt so alive, so complete. “I love you so much. I can’t even put it into words. You’re everything to me and more. I’d be honored to be your wife.” He smiles, tears gleam in his eyes. Joel Miller, the serious, gruff man, is in tears - because of you; a side only reserved for you.

I swam across

I jumped across for you

Oh, what a thing to do

‘Cause you were all yellow

“I meant every word, baby. Every word in that song ‘s true too. ‘S why it’s our song. The stars shine for you, but I think you’re prettier ‘an all the stars in the sky.” He pulls you in for another kiss, just as saccharine as the previous one. You’re both smiling into it. You hum as you pull away. “Baby, what’re you talking about you’re ‘no good at this type of stuff,’ Joel Miller, you’re a poet,” you laugh as you playfully question him. He throws his head back, a belly laugh escaping him. He smiles even bigger as he spots a twinkle in your eye. “Only for you, darlin’.” He moves his hands to your waist again, holding one of your hands in his as he leads you into a dance again. The big, cheesy smiles never leave your faces. Placing your free hand on his shoulder, the two of you sway to the music.

I drew a line, I drew a line for you

Oh, what a thing to do

And it was all yellow

“Forever,” you whisper as you press your nose against his while he sways you both side to side. “Forever,” he repeats. Another kiss is pressed to your lips, a hungrier one, a combination of love and lust. He releases your hand to cup the back of your head while he pulls you in by waist, bringing you closer. You throw your arms around his sturdy middle - the kiss deepens. He licks into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from you. “Take me to bed, Joel,” you huskily whisper. “Anything for my wife.” You beam at his words. “Not your wife, honey.” “Yet, darlin’. Yet.”

The moon peeks through the window, casting a cool glow on the entire room. The crisp late night breeze ripples the curtains hanging on the window the two of you mindlessly left open as you devoured one another earlier in the evening.

You stir, groggy as you’re awoken by the familiar dull ache in between your legs. Feeling a heavy, but comforting weight on your torso, you turn gently so as to not wake him. Now facing him,Joel’s arm still holds you flushed against his chest.

It’s the middle of the night, the bedside clock flashes 3:30 in small fluorescent blue lights. Both of you spent, as the events of the day having wiped you two out. He slowly, but deliciously wrecked your cunt twice, once with his mouth and once with his cock, before you both drifted off to sleep. He’s still sleeping. He is so beautiful. I’m so lucky. 

His plush lips slightly parted as he softly snores. His full lashes lightly kiss his cheeks. Brows pulled into his infamous furrow. You carefully brush the curve of his strong nose, which you rode into the midnight hour, with your left hand. The moonlight catches a glimpse of the ring he gave you just hours ago. A delicate gold band adorning a diamond, 2 smaller stones surrounding it.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, for you, I’d bleed myself dry

For you, I’d bleed myself dry

Tears well in your eyes as you recall his proposal from the evening. Your heart overflows with content as you admire the man in front of you. You get to fall asleep and wake up like this for the rest of your lives. He is my forever. You softly caress his face, careful not to wake him. Alas, your attempt fails.

Joel begins to stir while you continue to caress his patchy beard as you internally dwell on the thought of being his for eternity. Stretching his taut tan muscles, groaning as he does so. “Ya watchin’ me sleep, babydoll? How long ya been awake?” A sleepy smile creeps onto his face.

 “I’m just admiring my gorgeous fiancé’s face. And not very long, only about 5 minutes,” you sigh. His sleepy smile morphs into a toothy grin. “Oh really? I’m sure he can’t be nearly as gorgeous as mine. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Your fiancé is a lucky man, honey.” He leans in to press a sleepy kiss to your lips, the two of you smiling into it. It’s soft and sweet, lingering like honey sticking to your lips.

It’s true

Look how they shine for you

He moves his hand from your torso to the back of your head, grasping your hair, deepening the kiss. He pulls you closer, completely flushed against his bare chest. The dull ache in between your legs blooms with desire, transforming into a throbbing need. You moan as his hardening length presses against your exposed cunt. Neither of you bothered to dress before falling asleep. 

The kiss grows sloppy as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together. You break apart gasping for air. “Joel,” you breathlessly moan as he kisses down your neck and shuffles the two of you so you’re pinned under him. He sucks onto that sensitive spot on your neck near your ear. The spot which he knows drives you crazy. 

“Joel,” you moan louder this time. It comes out more desperate than you intended. “Be a good girl and use your words, baby.” He’s so fucking smug, he drives you insane. “Need you, baby. N-need you so bad, Joel,” you gasp as he makes his way down to your breasts. 

He hums, sucking a nipple into your mouth as he gropes your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his calloused fingers. “F-fuck, baby. Feels, ah, s-so good,” you say as you arch your back, granting him even more access to your breasts. He moans at your praise, the vibration of it sending shockwaves down your spine to your weeping cunt. Kissing his way down your tummy and finally making his way to where you need him most. Your exposed cunt aches for him to do something - anything. 

He hooks both your legs over his shoulders as he kneels off the edge of the bed. He presses soft kisses and nips to your thighs, actively avoiding your throbbing clit. His scruffy beard scratches your thighs, causing more arousal to pool at your sex. Every teasing kiss causes your clit to twitch. He sees it, you know he can, but he continues to act oblivious. You writhe under his touch, growing frustrated as your body yearns for some sort of relief.

“Joel, please, n-no more teas - hmph - teasing” you whine, clearly exasperated. He chuckles at your neediness. “So needy, babydoll. Already fucked your cunt twice last night ‘n you still want more?” “Yes, Joel,” you beg, desperate tears begin to pool in your eyes. “Always want more. Always want you,” you cry out. You quickly see something soften in his eyes, but it disappears just as fast. “Always want you too, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of ya. Always do, don’t I?” 

Before you could answer, he licks a stripe up your folds, his nose nudging at your clit. Gasping at the relief of finally feeling something, you involuntarily buck your hips up into his face. He places one of his large hands and pushes you back down, the pressure on your stomach causing a new pool of desire to drip from your pussy. You can’t control the moans leaving your lips as he flicks his tongue against your twitching clit. “Joel, f-fuck oh my god, Joel,” you cry out, tugging on his hair. 

Your hair tugging elicits a moan from him, the rumble of it causing you to shiver. He eats you out like a starved man, as if he wasn’t doing this just barely 4 hours ago. “Joel, n-need more. P-please, baby.” Obliging your request, he inserts one finger deep inside your pussy, drawing out a high pitched moan from you. He could always reach places you never could, his fingers much larger and thicker than yours. 

“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy in the world, baby. My favorite meal,” he says as he inserts another finger into you. Another mewl escapes your lips. He returns his tongue to your clit, relentlessly flicking it. He feels your walls begin to flutter around his fingers as he curls his fingers, hitting your g-spot.

“Right there, Joel! Oh, f-fuck yes, baby.” It sounds obscene as he slurps up your slick while pumping his thick fingers deep into your squelching pussy. You feel light as a feather as your orgasm approaches. “‘s it, baby. Cum for me. Can feel ya squeezing my fingers. Come on, babydoll. Make a mess on my fingers.” He sucks your clit into his mouth causing your orgasm to crash into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you seize up under his hold, endless moans streaming from your lips.

Lapping at your pussy, he drinks up all of your cum, letting no drop go to waste. He pulls away, giving you a brief moment of relief. The pale moonlight shines onto him, as if he were some sort of deity from above. He is - he is your saving grace.

He pulls himself up and slots his hips between yours. He teases your wet folds by rubbing his hard, pulsating cock up and down against them, slathering himself in the fresh new wave of slick that runs down your weeping cunt. Pre-cum dribbles from his angry, red tip, smearing over your folds. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep into your pussy in one thrust, buried to the hilt.

“Oh fuck Joel! S-so fucking big, so, shit, so deep.” “You can take it, baby. Ya always do.” His pace is brutal, his thick cock brutally kissing your cervix with each thrust. He hikes your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders, practically bending you in half. You scream at the new position. You’re so loud, you’re thankful there are no neighbors around here. He’s always so deliciously deep, you’ll never get used to it.

He picks up the pace, your thighs begin to burn and your cunt still aches from being stuffed repeatedly. The line between pain and pleasure blurs, but you feel so damn good. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you clamp down on him. The pornographic sounds of moans, pants, and your squelching cunt fill the room. You’re already so close as you had no time to come down from your first orgasm.

“Fuck, darlin’. Ya hear that? Hear how fuckin’ wet ya are for me? Feel so fuckin’ good. Can’t believe I get to have this tight little pussy for the rest of my life. ‘S mine. All mine. Can’t wait til, ah, til you’re my pretty little wife.” He groans, as you clench around him. His words spurring you on. “‘S yours, Joel. ‘M yours, all yours, baby,” you manage to slur out. He’s close, you can tell as his thrusts get sloppier. “Come on, baby, gimme another. Need to feel you soak my cock.” 

He licks the pad of his thumb and swirls it on your clit. You tumble over the cliff and plummet into your second orgasm. His cock, his fingers, his words, him. It’s all too much. You feel him everywhere. Your vision flashes hot white. The burning coil in your belly snaps as you come undone. A guttural moan escapes from deep within your chest. “Oh fuck, Joel! I’m gonna, ah, ‘m cumming,” you squeal from under him with your eyes rolling back again. You’re cumming again, hard, soaking his cock just like he asked. “Atta girl, baby. Good girl,” he rasps as he fucks you through the waves of your second orgasm. You’re squeezing him so tight you nearly push him out. 

His pace is still relentless, not giving you time to come down from your second high. Suddenly, you’re being flipped around as Joel rolls you over him. He lays on his back with you now on top. The new angle has him even deeper than before, if that’s even possible. His cock immediately hits your g-spot again. A choked cry falls from your lips while you try to brace yourself on his broad, sturdy chest.

“‘M close, baby. Fuck, ya feel so fuckin’ good. Cum for me one more time, baby.” His breath is ragged now. You’re a babbling mess as he continues to fuck up into you. “I got you, baby. Just gimme one more. Come on, be a good girl and gimme one last one, babydoll.” He’s fucking up into you hard and fast, his thrusts growing sloppier than ever as he nears his orgasm. 

“Baby, I-I can’t,” you hiccup. “Yes, ya can, darlin’. You’re so close, can feel ya clenching ‘round me again. Let go, baby. I got you.” He sits up and pulls you closer, you’re completely flushed against his strong chest now. He wipes your stray tears, his tenderness sends you crashing into your third and final orgasm - one more orgasm than last night. He’s so rough, but so gentle with you at the same time.

A drawn out high-pitched moan escapes you once again, eyes squeezed shut while mewling his name as you clench around him. “Fuck, Joel!” Your soul disappears from your body, floating around somewhere along with your brain. Joel, Joel, Joel being the only thought in your head as his name repeatedly streams from your lips - like a prayer.

He grunts and fucks up into you with three more thrusts before he comes undone. A loud, guttural moan escapes from his lips. He’s babbling as he’s shooting his load into you. “Fuck! ‘S it, honey! Take it, baby, take it! Good girl, shit, fuck, Jesus Christ!” You feel his cum coat your walls as he fills you up. There’s so much cum, it’s dripping from your swollen, wrecked cunt. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both pant, grappling with reality as you both come down from your highs.

He places tender kisses on your shoulder. Both of you are sticky with salty sweat, the periwinkle moonlight beaming into the room now. You feel a soft kiss brush against your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter open. 

“Hi,” he huskily whispers with a gentle smile. “Hi,” you say with a bashful grin, biting your bottom lip while you return back down to Earth. Staring at each other with the same hazy, fucked out gaze, he crashes his lips to yours, lazily kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue as he languidly slips it into your mouth.

He sighs as you part to lift yourself off him, both of you hissing at the loss of one another. Worry laces his features as you settle on the bed beside him, laying down on his chest. His rapid heartbeat slowly returning to a steady thrum, grounding you back in the present. “You feel okay, baby? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” How on Earth you got so lucky, you’ll never know. 

Your gaze softens once more, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I feel absolutely amazing, Joel. You could never hurt me, baby.” He gingerly kisses your palm. Steady breathing and comfortable silence fill the air - postcoital bliss settling amongst you two.

He toys with the ring on your finger as his strong arm rests on your torso, engrossing you in his embrace. “You’re gonna be my wife,” he says as he smiles at you, disbelief and contentment lacing his voice. Love filling his eyes to the brim, just like his heart. Tears well in your eyes once more as you fully drink him in. You’re so full of love and happiness, there is nowhere else for your emotions to go except flowing down your cheeks. Something that happens often as you feel things deeply within your heart. It’s one of the things he loves most about you. “Jus’ means you got lots ‘a love to give in that big ol’ heart ‘a yours, baby,” he once told you.

“I am. There’s nothing more I want in this world than to be your wife.” And that’s the real honest truth. Joel Miller loves hard - particularly you. His tenderness is only reserved for you and Sarah - his girls. You never expected to fall just as hard for him. You only ever heard of this type of love in romance novels; only dreamt of it. Somehow, he managed to tumble his way into your heart that day, literally, when he spilled his coffee on you that fateful morning. Before him, you never fathomed the thought of experiencing a love like this.

He has served you the world and more on a silver platter. His love is the warm sunshine that envelopes you on a beautiful spring day. It is the forest fire that roars higher when you fan the flames, engulfing you in his heart. Joel Miller is the color yellow, his love burning brighter than the stars in the sky. As you love him hard, he loves you harder. To be loved by him for eternity is the greatest gift anyone could ever receive. As long as you live, his love will never die, for you carry it in your heart, everywhere you go.

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And all the things that you do

some moot tags: @nostalxgic @undrthelights @darkroastjoel @pedrospartner @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @modernperplexity @mrsquill @breakfastatjoels @tinygarbage @sin-djarin @jenispunk 🩵

this was so fun to write! got a little sappy at the end, i told y’all i was in my feelings when i wrote this 🤣 i truly do love writing, i just get very in my head about everything. may or may not already be working on a meet-cute prequel for these two 🫣 hope y’all enjoyed this and thank y’all for reading! <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #soft!joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: yellow #one shot: yellow #yellow coldplay

[luceracastro]

Teacher's Pet

Professor!Esteban Kukurickza x reader

Summary: After a few months of starting your literature course you seem to find it harder with time to ignore your professor, little did you know you were driving him crazy as well.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship! Age gap (the reader is in their early 20s and Esteban is mid/late 30s). There is not much warning in this part but it will change within the next few (also fyi this fic will be about 15 to 20 parts long and in Spanglish)

Masterlist

Ever since you could remember you dreamt of writing your own books, your mom and dad remember you making your own little stories as a kid with paper, crayons, and a pencil, your dad stapling the pages together for you

then you used notebooks and wrote little stories or poems of your own, you grew a great obsession with books and literature, so it made sense when it was your major and you got into one of the best schools in Spain to study.

Now living alone, working a part-time job to pay for necessities and other important bills except rent and school since your dad agreed to pay for it as long as you promised to make something out of yourself you were set, One small issue was that you had a Professor who was way too hot for his own good

lectures were hard sometimes, he was a good educator no doubt about that but he seemed to call on you for everything, of course your hand was the first up at times but even when it wasn't he would call on you saying he trusts that you understood the lecture and topic and can answer his questions, and you did, perfectly

he would flaunt your perfect work to the class, using you and your assignments as a example to the rest of the class, he praised you too that it messed with your head now, you began to think he probably knew how much you really liked him.

you had just sat through one of those painfully hard lectures after he asked countless questions which you mostly answered and now the class was working on the research paper he had assigned for the remaining time of class.

"Senorita T/n" he called and you looked up he motioned you over with a nod and your breath caught in your throat but you regained your posture and got up walking to his desk "Sólo quería decirle que hizo un excelente trabajo en este papel, eres un alumna muy dedicada y hasta puedo decir mi favorita" he chuckled and you smiled but the warm feeling inside of you was getting hard to ignore with the closer you are to him, especially with the countless praises he gives you.

"Gracias Profe que amable" you said, he smiled up at you a soft small smile but his eyes starring into your soul practically made your skin crawl, in a good way, "Bueno, te dejo que sigues trabajando" he said and you nodded "Muchas gracias Profe" you once again thanked him as he nodded and you walked back to your seat

the class had ended but before you could even walk out the door "Senorita T/n" he called out for you and you turned around "Mande?" you walked over to his desk as he looked over some papers "Me puedes hacer un favor?" he asked and you nodded adjusting the strap of your bag

"Yo tengo mucho trabajo que hacer entonces quiero saber si puedes ayudar a tu Compañera Adelia con un trabajo que tiene que hacer?" he asked and you nodded "Si, si claro con gusto" you said a small smile on your lips which he admired very much "Gracias de verdad, que amable eres me ayudas mucho" he said and your smile grew at his words

"Entonces le digo que te mande un correo electronico y de ahi empiezan a trabajar juntas, gracias otra vez" he said and you nodded "No problema Profe, que tenga buen dia" you said "Tu tambien querida," querida, that name was rare but when he did say it your legs turned to jelly

you left the class and made your way back home, the small flat you lived in was comfy and cozy, at first it may seem a bit too small but it was suffice for the time being, and with small trinkets and decor you'd get from small shops and thrift stores you made it your own little cozy home

you put your bag and books down, and your keys were thrown on the kitchen counter as you opened the fridge, leftover dinner from the night before it was. As you ate you looked through your computer for any emails or whatnot, and low and behold Adelia had emailed you

you had answered and through a couple exchange emails agreed to meet at a nearby coffee shop to work on her assignment, you closed your computer and got up to go and do some house chores, clean up, and do some laundry that you had put off for long enough.

the paper assigned from class today was now your current task late at night, you were tired of course but to not finish the paper would make you stress to the point where you wouldn't rest well so you decided to stay up and work on it

"Todavia despierta?" your eyes widened at the small chat from your Professor, when working on assignments you go on a website where teacher and students are signed on and anyone can see if you're active or not, turns out he's grading some work.

"Si, haciendo unos trabajos :)" you sent back and bit the inside of your cheek afraid of what he might say, was the chat too un professional for a student to send to a professor? but all doubts went away when he sent another chat

"Pobre, descansa mejor" he sent back then a little smiley face making you smile and giggle to yourself "Claro que si, nomas quiero terminar el papel de hoy y luego me voy a dormir" you sent back "Bueno Querida, tenga buen noche y por favor descansa" he sent back and you felt your belly warm up and lips curl into a big smile your cheeks began to hurt

"Gracias profe, que tenga buen noche tambien" was all you sent back before going back to work on your assignment, after you had finished the paper you put all your school belongings away in your bag and then went to get ready for bed. Esteban had always noticed his special student, you were a hardworking and dedicated student and always worked hard when it came to your school

her remembers seeing you working at one of the local coffee shops being kind to customers and being quick on your feet to attend them, you were also kind to your classmates helping out in class or outside of class, other teachers spoke highly of you and he added to it

you were also very well carried he noticed, dressed in nice clothing, always presentable, beautiful dare he say and you had a way about yourself which made you likable and irresistible if that was even a sufficient word, you were perfect and he firmly believed that.

the next day in class you had sat down in your usual seat, and like the same old routine for Esteban he stole glances when you weren't looking, when he realized you'd seen him he'd play it off with a kind smile

but the skirt you wore was pretty much a distraction, he couldn't focus but he wasn't complaining "Profe, me ayudas?" a student of his was standing beside his desk snapping him out of his trance as he nodded "Si claro"

after class had ended he stopped you again "Entonces no duermes mucho?" he smiled and you smiled as well "trato," you chuckled as he nodded "Prometame algo, que si vas a descansar, eres mi alumna favorita y no quiero que estas cansada por mi culpa" you shook your head "No, no de verdad no te precupes estoy bien ni tengo sueno" you said

he nodded "Pero una cosa, yo siempre me voy a precupar por mi alumna favorita" he said and you let out a sigh the nerves eating away at your belly "gracias profe, te lo agradezco" you smiled kindly making him return one back "Otra cosa, cuando estamos solos me puedes llamar por mi nombre," he said and you nodded

"Bueno profe, Esteban" you corrected yourself with a small smile making him nod "Bueno linda, tenga buen dia" linda, that was a new one, "Tenga buen dia" you gave him a kind smile and nod before leaving his class

this man would be the end of you.

A/N: Okay so this is the first part, not too exciting but by the next part it will be longer and more interesting as it goes on but Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated but no pressure my loves as long as you all enjoy and if you would like to be tagged let me know <333

Honorary tag since this lovely girl is the reason I even started this fic (also my love for Esteban) @madame-fear Love you hope you enjoy love!!!!!

#esteban kukuriczka #lsdln cast #fanfic #enzo vogrincic #francisco romero #matias recalt

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)

⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. 

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from it’s perch at the window, it will never be much. the vultures jeered at it as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove it can be, it will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted it’s feathers and took it in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. it needs to change back, so it tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws it off with a shove. the reluctant truth is it’s filling with lust... and it’s growing quite scared of the bird it will become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird it seemed to want to be... but never thought it could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. it’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now it’s afraid it’s been turned into a raven. a bird that’s frightening. or maybe a bird it can’t recognize anymore when it looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change the bird.”

“but it sounds like the bird likes that change. at least part of it,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if it embraces that and sheds it’s own guilt— or molts, if you will— it’ll realize the raven is another distortion of the bird’s own making, just like the finch was. it’ll realize it is the dove and it always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess it could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds it thinks they are. maybe it finds that, after all this worrying, the bird was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show it it’s worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep it away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, the bird cries before it understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find it and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths it would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod again. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he tugs it to the side and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see how good you look under here and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive upper body. you’d never really doubted the aesthetics of it before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see this. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand roams across your abdomen and chest, fingers ghosting sweetly against your skin until you let out the tiniest whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand finds it’s way into your jeans, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he undoes the button clasp and zipper of your pants, shoving your underwear to the side with his fingers. he forces your legs a bit farther apart before stuffing a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? so desperate, i could slip right in,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. “did the other guys really make such a whore of you?”

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a red-pilled pig, but... had you somehow been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your center and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty— long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides both tenderly and persistently that’s making you feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, spitting in his hand and covering his length as he lines up the tip. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him, frantically zipping up your jeans. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

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[child-of-the-nights]

Various characters on your birthday

A/N: So this is very self indulgent because yesterday was my birthday (yippee!) but I wrote some headcanons with a few of my fav characters from the fandoms I write for. Anyway have fun reading!

Warnings: none

Characters: Aro Volturi, Emperor Belos, Elrond, Shadow Weaver, Thranduil

Aro Volturi:

Now, celebrating birthdays in the vampire world is a little bit different. Since most people at the palazzo have been alive for centuries, they don't really celebrate their birthdays every year. It's more like every decade or even every 100 years.

However, if Aro's mate is still human or a newborn vampire, they can expect to have a big party thrown for them. Even if they prefer solitude, they can expect to at least have the family invited. That being Caius, Marcus, Athenodora and Sulpicia.

Aro obviously gets his mate the best gifts. He can, after all, see their deepest wishes with a single touch. His mate had seen something online and thought "wow, it would be nice to have this"? Aro had already added it to the list of possible birthday gifts.

Obviously he would buy them more meaningful gifts as well. For example, maybe the mate absolutely loves a certain book series, well Aro would commision someone to make them a special edition of the books.

His mate can expect to find love notes and poems all over the place on their birthday. Aro is a gifted writer and he makes sure to capture all the things that he admires about his mate. Which is pretty much everything. Seriously, he can barely name anything he doesn't like.

The entire day is planned carefully by Aro and he intends to go through with his plan unless something absolutely crucial needs his attention. In that case, he promises his mate that he'll make up for being away.

Aro will ask them to dance with him to their favorite songs. Whatever the song may be, he would find a way to dance with them.

It brings him great joy when he sees how his mate has so much fun. Especially if they are holding his hand while doing so. Aro loves it when he can bury himself in their mind.

When the day is coming to an end, he takes them to stargaze outside of Volterra, somewhere not that affected by light pollution. They both would look at the stars and hold hands while doing so. Aro would whisper sweet nothings in their ear, possibly slipping into other languages while doing so.

His mate can definitely say that their birthday was amazing, if not the best birthday they ever had.

Emperor Belos:

When it comes to Belos and celebrating birthdays, he actually prefers to not have a grand party for his beloved. He just thinks it would serve no reason and a private dinner or something similar means far more than anything else.

That being said, he is actually... hardly torn away from doing his Emperor duties. He must prepare for the Day of Unity after all. But after enough begging, he decides to humor his partner for a while.

I'm not saying that he didn't get them gifts, because of course he did. Belos is the type of person to hand-craft presents instead of buying them. He just feels it's far more personal that way.

Belos being the old fashioned man that he is, he writes them a heartfelt letter. As heartfelt as Belos can be of course. He would reminescence of their first date and the moment Belos realised he loved them.

Somehow the entire castle found out of their birthday, so the s/o can expect getting birthday wishes from most of the guards. Some (like Lilith, Kikimora and Hunter) even give them presents. Lilith and Kikimora just want to suck up to Belos of course, but Hunter's is more personal. After all, it's his uncle's lover.

As much as Belos denies it, he loves having matching things. So his beloved would get something for their birthday that matches something he owns. Perhaps it's a gadget he uses often, or a piece of clothing that he loves; he would get them something similar.

This day is the ONLY day he would allow them to wear his emperor outfit. Belos would watch them try to imitate him and would laugh along. After the day is over though, he makes sure to tell his s/o that they got their emperor-outfit-wearing priviledges revoked.

Obviously Belos knows everything on the Boiling Isles, which means that he knows all of the secret places that are just absolutely mesmerizing. He might just surprise his beloved with a trip to one of these places.

I believe at night, once the both of them are in bed, Belos would share some of his fond memories. That is probably the most sentimental his s/o had ever seen him. It's sort of a birthday present of sorts I suppose.

Now, if his lover REALLY wanted to have a big party, he might be convinced. He would use that to manipulate the Isles into believing that he is a kind man, but he would also just want to make his beloved happy. Belos is just a tiny bit twisted like that.

Absolutely the type of man who would ask for their s/o's hand in marriage on their birthday. I can just totally see that happen.

Elrond:

Oh Elrond, beautiful Elrond.

Now birthdays are a bit questionable for elves as well since... well, they are immortal. But, whenever Elrond and his beloved would celebrate their birthday, the elven Lord would make sure to make it unforgettable.

Elrond plans the whole day of course (if his s/o agrees into the planning).

First, they would wake up and receive breakfast in bed. Elrond would stay with them the whole time, smiling down at them as they eat. After that he takes them on a walk in the gardens where they would talk for hours.

If someone happens to "accidentally" play some music in the distance, Elrond would ask his lover on a dance. They would talk while doing so and laugh along when they accidentally trip and fall in the grass.

After the walk in the gardens, Elrond takes his s/o back to the main halls and leads them to a room that is decorated just for them. There awaits them Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen with smiles on their faces. All of them would give Elrond's beloved a gift while the Lord waits patiently.

Elrond's gift wouldn't be too grand but it would be meaningful. Most likely it is something he made with his own hands. Like if his beloved wears jewellery, he would make them something out of their preferred materials. Since courting is taken very seriously for elves, I believe they wouldn't commision anyone for a piece like that like humans would. The elves make important gifts themselves as it's more meaningful that way.

After a joyful lunch with music involved, Elrond brings his s/o outside to celebrate with the rest of Rivendell. It's a very carefree party where the elves play music and dance around with or without the s/o.

Once nighttime comes around, Elrond will get them away from the party and bring them to a clearing where they can watch the stars in peace. The stars are very important in an elf's life, so why not spend the last hours of their birthday looking at them.

Elrond would tell his beloved how much he loves them while in the comfort of the stars. He would also describe their relationship using great many metaphors.

At the end of their birthday, they walk back to the party and dance the night away.

Shadow Weaver:

We all know how Shadow Weaver loves gardening, right? Well, she would obviously put together a lovely bouqet for her s/o. It consits of their favorite flowers, or if they don't have any, flower in their favorite colors.

Shadow Weaver would wake her lover up by gently caressing their face and wishing them happy birthday once they open their eyes. After that she let's them eat breakfast before giving them the bouqet. It has a little note attached to it that is enchanted so it sparks little fireworks once it's opened.

Now, the sorceress is actually not that sure how to act in this situation because, let's be real, she did not partake in many relationships before. So her s/o will have to excuse if she's being a bit awkward.

She would get her beloved a cake, as suggested by Glimmer. It would be their favorite flavor and most likely would have frosting that is their favorite color.

Because Shadow Weaver is not very big on letting her feelings show, she wouldn't really give her s/o a speech about how much she loves them but she would try to write some of her feelings out in a form of a letter.

Once the s/o is ready, she will take them to her garden that is decorated just for them. It's more colorful than usual, but it still stays in the theme of the sorceress' taste.

Shadow Weaver would then lead them to a table that is decorated by candles. They would drink tea or something her beloved likes while talking. While outside, some residents of the castle would walk by to wish them happy birthday, especially Glimmer.

Once they're done with the little tea party, Shadow Weaver takes them out to a clearing in the Whispering Woods. There she reveals a picnic set up just for her s/o. While sitting and eating, Shadow Weaver finally gives them their present. It's something very personal.

The rest of the day consists of Shadow Weaver and her beloved watching the sunset and enjoying their picnic.

Thranduil:

Once again, the elves are a bit different about birthdays but Thranduil sure does throw a big party. Wine for the whole realm and dancing all night.

But before he gets to that, he makes sure that this day is the best day his s/o has ever had.

Thranduil wakes his beloved up by whispering to them and wishing them happy birthday. He let's them have breakfast in bed, while he eats beside them. After the breakfast he gives the plates to a servant while they stay in bed for some more quality time.

When they finally get up, Thranduil takes them on a stroll in the garden. They walk around, simply talking. Once they found a place where they could sit down, Thranduil gives them their first gift. It's a very personal gift that he made himself (much like Elrond).

While his s/o is looking at the gift, Thranduil whispers in their ear in elvish, explaining just how much he loves them. They stay there for some time before heading back to the palace.

Legolas would wish them happy birthday of course. If he likes them enough, he might make them a little carving of sorts and give it to them.

Thranduil showers his beloved in other types of presents as well. If they like wearing jewellery, he would get them something that matches his. Perhaps his s/o would like another sword? Something that fits them perfectly but also just so happens that matches Thranduil's weapon?

Once Thranduil and his lover had finished with the gift giving, he takes them to the dining room where an exquisite lunch/dinner is prepared for them. Some elves are playing music while they eat.

When they finish, they go to celebrate with the rest of the realm. Thranduil opens up the wine barrels for everyone to drink and all of the elves dance around while singing songs.

The Elvenking obviously would ask to dance with his s/o while most likely already drunk. His partner can also expect to hear a speech from him that is adressed to the entire realm. He talkes about how important his beloved is and expects everyone to respect them as such.

If his lover is more anxious, then he swoops them away from the party to dance alone in a more secluded area. After all, he only wants them to feel great on their birthday.

The day most likely ends with the drunk couple entering their chambers and laughing as they fall on their bed. Alternatively, if his lover isn't one to drink, Thranduil still gets pretty drunk and his s/o can deal with a far more affectionate King.

#aro volturi x reader #emperor belos x reader #lord elrond x reader #shadow weaver x reader #thranduil x reader #the volturi x reader #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #shera x reader #the hobbit x reader #elrond x reader #the volturi #twilight x reader #twilight #the volturi headcanons #aro volturi #lord of the rings x you #lord elrond #elrond x you #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader fluff #thranduil #thranduil x reader headcanons

[ajdahak]

♡ Character : Neteyam x reader

♡ Request : Could you write about neteyam dating a human s/o? How he adores her human features, especially the height difference. Same goes with the reader, she fascinates his little ears and idk but maybe how his tail wags around like a dog when he sees her ABSIDGJASD THAT SOUNDED WEIRD BUT BASICALLY ALL I WANT IS FLUFF 😭😭 Hopefully that makes sense 😅 @justcallmesky

♡ Genre : Fluff

♡ A/N : Heeyyy, sorry again if I take time to write, I try to do my best and be completely satisfied with my work before posting but it’s always difficult, I hope you like what I wrote. English is not the language I speak be indulgent please 🫶🏻

“Can…can I touch your face ?”

The sudden and hesitant request of Neteyam made you look up in his direction.

“You want…to touch my face ?”

You where looking at him with wide eyes, your finger pointing to yourself and mouth slowly agape. Feeling your eyes on him, Neteyam lowered his head, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was.

To be honest, you were rather surprised by his request. He had never asked you to touch your face, it was a simple request and yet you couldn't do anything about the fact that you were embarrassed. Apparently, he took your silence for a negative answer.

“I understand that you don’t want to. I just…Well…it’s been a while since we’ve been together and…I wondered…” He whispered so quietly, making you forgot for an instant about your insecurities. How could you say no to him?

You got up, crossing the room where there was air that you could breathe, you positioned yourself in front of the boy you loved. A smile appeared on his face.

“Of course you can. But why this request ?”

The eldest of the Sully family suddenly seemed embarrassed by this question, fleeing your gaze.

“It’s that..”

Slowly, his hand came into contact with your (h/c) hair, placing a lock at the back of your little ear. You didn’t let go of his eyes.

“Your eyes on me makes me nervous.”

“Oh, sorry! I-”

“No, don’t look away, that’s not what I meant. I like it when you look at me... I find your eyes beautiful.”

For him, your eyes contained in them a galaxy, your tears seemed to be pearled with stars, in any case, even if they seem beautiful in his thoughts, Neteyam will never let them flow.

You blush slightly at this remark, making the boy smile. This did not prevent you from speaking.

“Do you know what I like about you Nete ?” You asked, receiving only an eyebrow raise from him “What looks like freckles on your face.”

You pointed to the white dotted lines that used to light up in the dark.

“I find it beautiful, it’s like I was watching a starry night, but on a face” you laughed at the end of the sentence.

He smiled at your sweet laugh, looking at you with adoration. Your voice resounded like a sweet poem that would be told to children, surely this one in particular who cast a spell of love on him when you met him.

“Your ears are also very cute, it looks like a cat, but your tail reminds me of a dog” especially when you move it when you are happy, you thought for yourself.

“I have... no idea what it looks like.”

“Buuuttt.. I showed you pictures last time !”

Neteyam seemed embarrassed, not remembering it anymore.

“Ahh it’s okay, I’ll show you back another day.”

You put your hands on his cheeks that you loved so much, forcing him a little to lean forward so that you could see him better. When you directly threatened his personal space, the tip of his nose and ears began to heat up without permission, as if he were immersed in a cloud dream, softened by your delicacy. To have even more physical contact, the boy had to hold your hands with his own, caressing the top with his thumb, notifying how pleasant the fabric of your skin was.

“So, why did you want to touch my face ?” You asked again.

“I just wanted to feel the face of the women I love…” he replied, earning a smile from you.

“And do you like it ?”

You asked, surprising him.

“Of course ! Your face is as kind as your heart…” he said sincerely.

Seeing you smile with a radiance that even the sun would wear glasses, the Na’vi smiled in turn, so much his happiness could be felt that one could believe that his teeth emitted light. He let you get closer to his face, everything was going so fast that he did not hit the moment, and here he is with a kiss on the nose of the girl he loves.

“Do you know what I prefer most about you (y/n) ?”

You shook your head negatively, confused. He moistened his lips, and then observed yours. His fingers slipped to your chin, as if they were trying to find their way on your face, which was an enigma on its own. A small gesture of hesitation was understood on his head, then, a gentle pressure from his hand brought your two faces closer, attracting them dangerously.

The contact of your lips was soft, similar to that of the look that could be worn on the moon. With the joints joined, the kiss was no longer than the duration of the shooting star, and like the shooting stars, it offered him an incredible feeling of luck.

“Everything in you seems straight out of a dream. Nga yawne lu oer.”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #avatar 2 #fanfic #x reader #neteyam x reader

[dumpster-diving-rat]

How I think random bsd characters would tell you they love you (dating and not dating)

Edgar Allan Poe

-When you're not dating him, he's afraid to tell you about his feelings, practically admiring from afar whenever you two are together

-One day, whilst you're at his house, he hands you a book

-Whether or not you want his ability to be used is up to you, so I'll give you two versions here

-You get put into the book, there, you see a letter, in it is a confession of his feelings, if you looked around, you would notice you were in your favorite place, whether that's a place you've dreamed of going, or a place you've been to

-Once you get out after reading the confession, he is quite embarrassed, but tries to act normal

-The only reason why he didn't tell you in the book himself, was because he was too scared to see your reaction in real time, so he wrote the note for you to read while in the book

-If his ability was not used, it would be a book of love poems, confessing his love for you with many words, describing how he loves you with quite the description

-You can tell by the look on his face, in which he finally showed, that he was lovestruck

-He had fallen hard for you, and didn't plan on letting those feelings go

-However, when you are dating him, he shows his love similarly, but still different

-You will hear him say 'I love you' of course, but, sometimes he does it in ways you never thought he could do

-Did he learn different, slightly hidden ways to say I love you? Perhaps, but only for you, because he knows you'll find it, even if you don't understand it

-He gave you a few new love poems, he gives you different ones every week, but what you weren't expecting was at the top of every page, there was the same dots and lines -Wondering what it was? Well, it was morse code for I love you, but not just that, different variations of I love you. It seemed to be a different way of saying it every two pages. Such as 'I love you so much' and 'I love you more than every star in the sky'

-He did it all in morse code, just so you may or may not know it, even so, you'd have to translate it if you did know it

-He does give you some gifts outside of poems, but they have to do with what you like, such as flowers, or art supplies if you're an artist

-Yes, he's not the best at spending well, he spends a lot of unnecessary money, but he gets it back in a day or so, which makes him not care about all of that

-He loves you with his entire heart, and he reminds you with all of those weekly poems, and gifts

Ranpo Edogawa

-Before you started dating, this great detective had his eyes on you -He shared some snacks with you, to every other detectives surprise

-He's even asked Fukuzawa multiple times to let you go to cases with him, even if you hadn't asked to go with him

-Asking for you to go on cases with him was practically his way of getting closer to you, which was what he wanted

-One day, you went candy shopping with Ranpo. While you two were in the rain, standing under an umbrella, Ranpo suddenly said "I love you" to you. Of course it caught you off guard, I mean, you both weren't really speaking, and it was just so sudden

-Cue the prolonged eye contact moment, because he actually opened his eyes, and stared at you

-You two continued walking back to the agency in the rain after a small talk. Wait, are you two holding hands now? Absolutely, yes you are, and Ranpo was happily grinning

-Now, when you're dating him, he is a bit clingy, and is probably demanding hugs (and kisses if you want those too)

-He probably says I love you at least 20 times in one day, mainly while he is getting held by you

-Ranpo will share a few snacks with you, but doesn't really get you many gifts

-I'd say gift giving isn't really his love language, I'd say it's physical touch, and probably even words of affirmation

-He just want to be held and praised for his work, while he tells you he loves you (and that he wants more affection, like the clingy person he is)

-He just wants to be lazy with you all day, sleeping, and eating snacks

Kunikida Doppo

-He didn't exactly expect to fall so hard for you, but, you fit a lot of his ideals, and he just didn't know what to do of it

-He would gift you things that you like, probably slightly smaller things, but still things you like or want

-There's a book you want? Well, surprise, he bought it for you, but it's 'no big deal'

-Dazai found out immediately, and would tease him so much for his little crush, and would talk about how his ideals would make you 'run away'

-Kunikida's face was almost always a slight pink around you

-One time you got close to his face to take a look at his eyes, because you were a bit interested in them, and he turned the reddest shade of red anyone could ever see

-If you ever complimented him, he would stop functioning, even if he never acts that way towards anyone else

-Because Yosano couldn't go shopping unfortunately, (she actually could but Dazai and Yosano ship you and Kunikida together, so she acted like she couldn't) she recommended you go with Kunikida, because he had good time management, and you and Yosano never knew how to keep track of time while shopping together. Thus, you asked him, and he agreed, hesitantly (if you listen closely, you can hear Yosano and Dazai snickering and whispering with each other about you two practically going on a date together, and high fiving each other)

-You and Kunikida did your shopping, while he made sure you didn't over spend, and made it back on time

-Before leaving, and putting your bags in his trunk, he asked if he could tell you something

-Then, he confessed. Saying how perfect you were, and how you were the ideal person for him. He asked you if you wanted to go on a date sometime as well

-He looked a lot happier for the rest of the day when you were both back at the agency

-Dazai and Yosano knew something definitely went down, because it seemed like you were slightly flustered, and Kunikida looked happier than his usual stern face

-"Sooo Kunikida, how'd your little date go with name hmm?" Dazai then got pummeled by Kunikida

-When you're dating Kunikida, you won't always hear an I love you at the ADA (if you choose to work there)

-However, he does message it to you when checking up on you, and does say it while you're both at home

-You'll most likely hear it at least once or twice a day

-He does still give you the small gifts, like I mentioned earlier, but will give you flowers too, and you'll see them mainly when you two go on dates, it's your anniversary, or Valentine's day, which are classic, but it's sweet nonetheless

-He doesn't do that much physical touch, but if you ask for a hug, a kiss, or practically anything, he will do it, just not in public

-You can hold hands in public with him, but that's pretty much the only thing he will do with you in public

-He just prefers to keep it more private, but maybe if it's not so crowded, he'll kiss you, or hug you, whatever you want, really. Just know you have to be the one to ask, because he won't do it

-Consent is everything to Kunikida, and he will always ask for your approval before doing anything that has to do with physical affection with you

Dazai Osamu

(TW: there is one mention of suicide, if that makes you uncomfortable, you could just skip to the dating part, or you could skip this in general)

-Oh. My. God.

-He will tease and flirt with you, and only you once he falls in love with you

-He does practically everything for you, sometimes even without asking

-You accidentally cut your hand or finger? Dazai is already there with bandages, and is cleaning your wound

-Probably kisses your wound as a joke, while flirting with you in the process

-You don't think he's being serious, in fact, you know he can't be

-But, here you are, helping him with paperwork, in his living room

-He isn't doing much, it's more like you do almost all of it, and then he finishes the rest of it

-He walks up to you once you're done and sitting on the couch, and sits next to you

-He gives you a hug, while flirting and giving you random words of affirmation

-While he's hugging you, he stops doing his flirting, and looks right into your eyes

-You get confused at his change in demeanor, but before you can say anything, he says 'I love you'

-You ask if he's being serious, to which he stares at you again, with a serious face, which you don't really see often

-"Honestly, how could you not tell? I've slowed down trying suicide. Did you not notice that?" Dazai is still staring at you, and now you're starting to realize it all

-"You've become such an impact in my life, angel" Yes, he did just give you a new nickname, and he will never stop calling you that from now on

-Dating him is barely different, he gives you every ounce of love he can

-I see his love language as physical touch, and he would cuddle you basically everyday, hugging you, giving you many, many kisses (unless you don't want that, he will respect that, as will every other character, so don't fret)

-He loves to lay on you, or rest his head on your lap, he's surprisingly clingy

-He says I love you almost every second, and you will hear it everyday, as well as see it on your messages everyday too

-You will get gifts often, and compliments everyday

-The gifts are typically stuff you like or want, as well as things like flowers

I hope you enjoyed this, if you have a request, you can comment it, I don't have an ask box, and idrk how the ask box works, so just comment or message me ♡

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #edgar allan poe #ranpo edogawa #kunikida doppo #dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons