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creatingblackcharacters · 2 days

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“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2

So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!

Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.

I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault

Misogynoir

What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.

The Jezebel

The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.

This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".

Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?

Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?

The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman

Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.

This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.

I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)

If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?

Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.

I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.

The Mammy

This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)

A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.

The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.

The Strong Black Woman

If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!

Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!

The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣

This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".

Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).

It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.

Standards of Beauty

These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣

It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.

Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!

Black Women as Women

“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars

Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.

I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).

Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.

Adultification

“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q

It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.

I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?

It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.

Conclusion

There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.

That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.

Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #writing #creative writing #stereotypes #antiblackness #racism

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tiktaalic · 3 days

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PREFACE TO MY POST: I’m not arguing with someone who says fanfiction as a medium is better than published books. It’s a better use of both our time not to argue gives you more time to read omegaverse me more time to do Anything Else.

POST: it’s so funny when someone trots out I got tired of reading books by old white men. I Find Better And More Representation In Fanfiction than Published Books! Because representation is so clearly standing in for the phrase “white gay/bi man”.

POINT ONE. it’s straight up not hard to find books by people with different perspectives. I could go to Libby dot com right now and find 3 different reading lists put together by the library to encourage you, the patron, to diversify your reading. Even when I don’t use those lists and I’m just going by clicking on covers I like I end up reading a variety of authors bc. They’re writing good books that are ending up on most popular lists that float their way to the top of recommendations. There are plenty of tools in place that guide you to books Not Written by old white men, Not About old white men. Libraries make it very very very easy to expand your palette. They want you to expand your palette soooo bad they want you to do it purposefully and if not purposefully, they’ll at least make it easy for you to do accidentally.

POINT TWO. if you are talking about fanfiction and you Aren’t using representation as shorthand for “white man but he’s gay” then the amount of fanfiction with “representation” is shit fucking all. On every axis. Nothing about women nothing about people of color. Women of color RIGHT out. I think I honestly would respect the stance of “oh I read fanfic instead of books because they’re easier, similar, and mostly about homosexuality” than I would the faux posturing of Its Praxis for me to read the diverse representation of ao3 top 100 (97 m/m) (3 f/f) (every character is white).

#etxt #Sorry. no I’m not. I’ve literally had to wander through the wastelands

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effwon · 1 day

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'cause i don't think that they'd understand || ln4 x reader (Part 1)

Summary: Lando just wants to walk down to the garage before the Miami race with you by his side. George and Carmen walked in together, Alex and Lily walked in together, so why can't you, as well? Despite your self-consciousness, you agree to walk hand-in-hand with him down to the garage right before the big race, but it's a much harder ask for you than anyone could ever realize.

Plus-size (she/her) Reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Brief mentions of nausea/being sick, panic, reader is plus-sized and very down on herself about it, weight mentions, ect.

Characters: Lando Norris (your boyfriend) and feat Oscar Piastri as a last minute saving grace for you.

Rating: G, for now.

“I want you to walk down to the garage with me.”

You blink in surprise, Lando’s words are so sudden and so firm that it makes goosebumps raise on your skin. Walk to the garage with him? But that would mean…

“What? Why?” you ask, folding down the page in the book you’re reading, before placing it down softly on the table beside you. A slugging, churning feeling arises in your gut as you realize exactly what it is he’s asking of you.

“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re my girlfriend, I want you to walk with me into the garage.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And, perhaps, for any other woman in this world it might just be.

But it isn’t for you. This is quite possibly one of the most difficult things he could ever ask you to do, and that alone makes you feel horrible. Lando deserves a normal girlfriend, who can react normally to very normal situations. Not someone who makes his life even more difficult than it already is.

You sigh heavily, knowing if you refuse you will just upset him. “I - are you sure you want to be seen with me? People will talk and they won’t be nice…” “Babe, we’ve had this conversation before. Just one walk down to the garage with me, that’s all I’m asking.”

You frown again, daring to look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t seem angry, but there’s a desperation in his eyes, something that tugs at your heartstrings. What Lando doesn’t realize is that the backlash won’t fall too heavily on him - but on you…?

Oh, the fans and the media will eat you up. Lando is dating a fat girl? That will decorate the tabloid headlines for days, perhaps even weeks or months. The thought alone makes you sick. But how can you say no to him when he’s so earnest, when he wants to show you off, regardless if you deserve it or not?

“Yeah, okay.” You finally reply, looking away from Lando and down to the floor. He notices this, however, and kneels down in front of you, grabbing one of your hands in both of his own. His hands are so warm and so immediately comforting, working to ease the rapid beat of your heart in your chest.

“It’ll be okay. I promise. And just think, you’ll finally be able to come see the garage and paddock!” His voice is so cheerful, so genuinely happy and excited for you to be there with him. It’s touching, to say the least, but you are loath to admit that your excitement level is not nearly on par with his. Not even slightly.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve wanted to see them for so long.” The lack of enthusiasm in your voice does dull the excitement in his eyes, but he holds steady. Admirable, really. A trait you wish you could share with him.

“It’s almost time. Why don’t you go ahead and get ready, and we can walk down in about an hour?”

An hour? Well - here’s hoping you can actually make yourself look even somewhat presentable in such a short amount of time.

“You’ll help me pick out my dress, right?” you ask.

The light immediately comes back to his eyes, and he beams at you with the very same smile that won your heart the night you met him.

“Of course! Fashion show time!”

Lando ends up picking the teal colored sundress, something that suits your taste and simultaneously compliments some of your key features. It fits well, with no need for you to suck in your stomach to make it look nicer or more appealing, and hides some of your less than desirable attributes (the rolls, god, the rolls) with ease.

You feel comfortable enough, with only a light amount of makeup on your face, and your feet are settled into white flats instead of the heels you had originally picked out. Lando liked them as well, but urged you to go for something more comfortable and carefree.

You genuinely do feel okay, but the bitter taste of anxiety still stirs the acid of your stomach as you think about the amount of eyes that will be on you and Lando in a few moments.

“Hey beautiful,” Lando says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, you suck in your stomach to try and lessen the circumference of your belly. Lando tenses, but he doesn’t push the issue, keeping you nestled safely in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “You just about ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you reply softly, leaning only a portion of your weight back against him. He doesn’t let go for a few moments, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear.

“I’m proud of you. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re only doing this for me, but I hope you can manage to enjoy it as well. You may not want the world to know you’re mine, but I do.” Lando explains, nipping at your ear with gentle teeth. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you cannot help but smile at his antics.

“Well, we’ll see what all the news sources are saying in the morning. You know for a fact my issue isn’t being seen with you, it’s you being seen with me.”

“Who cares what they say? How I feel about you is what matters, not what the public thinks about a relationship they know nothing about.” Lando’s voice is firm and leaves no room for argument - likely because this IS an argument the two of you have had time and time again.

You open your mouth to respond, but Lando’s PR Agent gestures a bit frantically at you both and all of a sudden, Lando is no longer behind you but at your side, lacing your fingers together.

“Deep breath, babe. It’s go time.”

Oh.

You take a deep breath and hold it in your lungs, fearful that if you breathe at all, you might mess this up entirely. Lando’s hand is warm and firm in your own, steady while your mentality feels anything but. There’s no time to prepare yourself for the walk - Lando is moving and on instinct, you move fluidly alongside him. Your heart is racing impossibly hard in your chest and somehow only gets faster as you step out onto the grass and the sun shines down upon you and Lando like a blinding spotlight.

You hear the clicking of cameras before you see the media snapping shots of you and Lando as you walk hand-in-hand towards the McLaren garage. You can already hear the shouts of fans at home, screaming about how Lando could possibly be dating someone so fat and unattractive when he’s literally a celebrity and could have anyone he wanted. You can see the offensive articles, wondering what’s gone wrong in Lando’s head to be dating someone so average and so unathletic when all of the other drivers are dating what could be (and in some cases ARE) models.

So many eyes are on you both, and you still haven’t been able to take a breath just yet. You feel Lando’s hand squeeze yours, but you are unable to squeeze back. You just want to be at the garage and tucked back away from the eyes of the media so you can regain your bearings.

And then finally, after what feels like a marathon of a walk, you feel the grass turn to solid ground beneath your feet and the smells of the garage hit your senses like a brick wall. Everything slowly comes back into focus and you realize you’ve finally made it to the other side. Your gut is churning, but you let out the breath you have been holding since you took your first step out and it eases some of the bubbling tension in your chest.

Lando’s hand leaves yours fairly suddenly, but he immediately pops up in your line of sight, beaming at you like you’ve just handed him the sun, the moon, and all the stars. You swallow thickly, hoping to keep down the nausea that threatens you, and offer up a tight smile of your own.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks, pulling you in by your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You are still within sight of the media cameras and you hear a few clicking somewhere off to your right, which does little to help quell the nausea.

“It was fine, yeah.” You say, and it’s incredible just how weak your own voice sounds. “Can we, uh - can we go someplace in the back for a minute? Away from the cameras?”

“Of course,” Lando says, and concern begins to blossom on his features. His eyebrows furrow, gaze focused solely on you as you still try your best to smile at him. “I have to get changed into my kit anyway.”

Lando’s hand is back in yours instantly, and he gently guides you through crew members and winding hallways until you’re far enough away from all of the commotion that you can barely hear it anymore. Your breath is shaky as you inhale, but the relief is almost immediate now that you are out of the public eye.

“Are you okay?” Lando asks after a few seconds of studying your face. “I’m sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it?”

“No, no, no.” you interrupt him, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. “It’s just a lot. I’m not used to these kinds of things, not like you are. And there were so many cameras…”

“You learn to ignore the cameras.” He says, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry about them, they’re just an annoyance anyway. You’re here to watch me race, and I promise you the McLaren crew will take great care of you while you do.”

Your smile feels a bit more genuine now as the nerves begin to drift off. You know you’ll have cameras in your face likely the entire time Lando is racing, but knowing that you have the support of McLaren while you’re here helps a bit. Lando has been with these people for years now, you can only imagine they’ve grown quite close in that time.

“I’m sure they will. I - uh - is there a bathroom back here somewhere?” You look around a bit frantically, overcome by the sudden intense nausea that hits you now that the worst of the nerves have tapered off. Sweat builds on your forehead and you begin to feel a bit clammy and lightheaded, but Lando either doesn’t notice, or you’ve managed to keep yourself steady enough as to not rouse suspicion.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll take you there,” he says, looking around to gain his bearings. He circles his fingers around your wrist and leads you back towards the heart of the garage, but stops before you get to the more heavily trafficked areas. It’s a small, unassuming restroom meant for one person at a time, but it will do. “Here you are. I actually need to change, so I’ll come back for you once I’m set up, okay?”

“Sounds good.” You confirm, leaning in to kiss him when you see him do the same. He offers you a comforting smile and then takes off into the clamor of the garage to get himself ready for the race. You watch him weave through crowds of crew and media personnel, and once he’s no longer within your sight, you turn around and rush into the bathroom without a moment to spare.

The nausea is almost overpowering, and you can’t even make it to the toilet before you feel your stomach rolling. You grasp desperately at the vanity, emptying your nerves into the sink with a violent heave and a shudder. Panic is starting to claw its way up your throat now that you’ve been sick, and you grip the sides of the vanity so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The nausea, thankfully, goes away now that you’ve emptied your stomach into the sink, but a much worse feeling creeps up to take its place.

You reach forward with trembling hands and turn on the sink, cleaning out the mess you’ve just made. Thankfully, a few splashes of water around the sink (and a few swishes in your mouth) manage to clean out everything so there’s no evidence left of your struggle.

You back yourself against the wall now, feeling your heart beating faster all over again, and the sweat begins to feel cold on your forehead. Panic is no new sensation, but you can’t help but curse the timing of this attack. It makes sense - given the overstimulation and the nervousness you just fought your way through, but you had hoped deep in your heart that you would be able to handle this without a breakdown.

You could not have been more wrong.

You begin to take deep, shuddering breaths at far too rapid a pace. You know you have to get your breathing under control, or this will spiral until you’re pathetically hyperventilating alone in a McLaren bathroom. You rush forward to turn the water back on, hoping that splashing some on your face might help snap you out of it, when you hear the handle of the restroom door jiggle.

Your stomach lurches again when you realize in your haste, you forgot to lock the door.

“Yeah, mate. I’ll be back in a few.” You hear a familiar voice say, muffled slightly by the noise buzzing around the garage.

As soon as the person steps inside the restroom and your eyes meet, you feel like you could be sick again. It’s none other than Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate and friend at McLaren, and he’s staring at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Hey,” he greets, and it’s so incredibly soft - as if he might be speaking to a cornered, wounded animal. “Hey, are you alright?”

You can’t reply to him just yet - your breathing is out of control and nausea is hitting you again from the depths of absolute hell. As if this day couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse, you WOULD have a mental breakdown in front of Lando’s teammate.

You simply stare back at him in shock, like he’s the most terrifying thing you could possibly see, and you finally manage to choke out a weak and pitiful, “No.”

You watch as Oscar gently locks the door behind you both - a blessing, really, to keep anyone else from walking in on you in such an embarrassing state. He keeps his expression neutral, only taking one step into the bathroom with his hands palm-up to show he means no harm.

“You need to breathe, okay? Think you can breathe with me?” Oscar asks, his voice echoing in the small space. He swallows thickly, another sound that’s easy to pick up in the confined space, but he patiently waits for you to respond.

“I don’t - I don’t know -” you reply, hands slapping against the wall as you try to find something to grip onto for balance. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we give it a try, at least?” Oscar tries again, looking far more concerned than you think he has any right to be. He hardly knows you, after all.

“I - I can -” but the words die on your lips as your legs give out beneath you. You fall to your knees on the tile floor and that’s when Oscar jumps quickly into action. You feel unfamiliar arms wrap around your shoulders, a cushion to keep your head from smashing against the floor, and the last thing you see are Oscar’s frightened eyes above you, the echo of your name frantically erupting from the back of his throat as your vision fades out.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #x reader fanfic #f1 x reader #plus sized reader #driver x reader #hides my face under all these tags #this is my first ever x reader so be kind thanks

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rookieloveskashi · 1 day

Text

This Is How It Starts

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, dubcon? (sex pollen), porn with plot, confessions of feelings, voyeurism, masturbation, nipple play, 69, oral sex, cunnilingus, blow jobs, cum swallowing, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, POV Kakashi

Word Count: 9.3k (i have no excuse)

Summary: Kakashi is surprised to learn he'll be bringing you—a civilian—on his next mission. He takes every precaution he can think of, but what will he do when a strange new jutsu has an effect that he couldn't predict?

AO3 Link

Kakashi tucked his hands deep in his pockets as he waited for Tsunade’s office door to open. The report from his latest solo mission was stored in one of the front pouches of his flak vest, and he hoped he would manage to get in and out without a new mission scroll replacing it.

It had been nearly four months since Tsunade had been welcomed as Hokage to a village short on shinobi, and Kakashi hadn’t had an hour of free time since. At first, he had worried that his defeat at Itachi’s hands—or eyes, rather—would mean he’d lost some of the new Hokage’s confidence. But by this point, he wished that had been the case.

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eye, figuring he may as well catch a few minutes of sleep while he had the chance. So when the door opened only a moment later, Kakashi chose to keep his head reclined and his eye closed, savoring a few more seconds of peace.

“She finally ready for me?” he asked, expecting to hear Shizune sigh before inviting him in.

“I think so…”

The voice that responded did not belong to Shizune. Kakashi finally opened his eye and there you were: the last person he expected to see coming out of the Hokage’s office.

You also happened to be the last person he would mind seeing, but that was another matter entirely.

“Y/N.” Kakashi felt his cheeks heat up as he fixed his posture and rubbed his sore neck. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“First time for everything I guess,” you smiled. “You getting back from a mission?”

Kakashi held up the scroll containing his mission report. “Turn in one, get assigned another.”

A genuine look of empathy colored your face. “I’m sorry.”

“Maah, it isn’t your fault,” he shrugged. “It’s just the way it is right now.”

“Kakashi!” Tsunade shouted from inside her office. “You just gonna stand out there all day?!”

“Duty calls,” he sighed.

“Good luck on your next assignment,” you offered.

“Thank you.”

Kakashi lingered beside the door, watching for just a moment as you made your way toward the exit down the hall. His curiosity got the better of him, which he quickly made known as he walked into the Hokage’s office.

“What was Y/N doing here?”

Tsunade wore an unamused expression, keeping quiet as Kakashi approached her desk. The two spent a few seconds in a charged silence before she rolled her eyes. “Normally, I would say it’s none of your business, but it happens to be relevant to your next mission.”

Kakashi didn’t even have a chance to make a smart comment about being assigned yet another mission without rest. The fact that you were somehow involved nullified his exhaustion. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve gotten reports that suggest evidence of a forbidden jutsu being developed in the Land of Rivers. All we really know so far is that it’s explosive-based. I need you to go and learn everything you can about it; who’s behind it? What does it do? Is it something that requires a specific chakra nature, or does it have the potential to be more of a widespread problem? I want all the information you can get.”

“Okay… but what does that have to do with Y/N?”

“She’s going with you.”

His brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“We don’t have any sensory-type shinobi available.”

He would need to have a medic-nin check his hearing. Or maybe he had recently suffered an untreated blow to the head and just forgotten about it, because Tsunade’s statements just weren’t adding up. “I still don’t see what that has to do with Y/N. She isn’t any type of shinobi.”

“But she could have been.” Tsunade shuffled the papers that were stacked slightly haphazardly on the corner of her desk. “I’ve been looking over her files from her time at the Academy. She outclassed all her peers in terms of sensory skills; but she never took to combat, so the old regime considered her to be too much of a liability.”

That made sense with everything he knew about you. His own time at the Academy was so short, it didn’t overlap yours at all. He remembered hearing about a potential sensory-type dropping out, but at the time, he really hadn’t given it a second thought. Some people just weren’t made for the shinobi lifestyle, and while he could now recognize that fact without bitter judgment, the same couldn’t be said of his opinions back then.

Over the last year or two, he’d gotten to know you as someone kind and considerate, who was easily startled and prone to daydreaming. It made perfect sense that you were content living a civilian’s life; working at a tailor shop, which Kakashi just so happened to frequent with his arms full of battle-torn clothes. Every visit had caused his fledgling attraction to grow into the undeniable crush that he hadn’t yet figured out how to act on.

Admittedly, he’d been looking for an excuse to spend more time with you, but taking you on a mission wasn’t what he had in mind.

“I discussed it with her, and she’s willing to give it another try,” Tsunade continued. “In the future I see her as more of a specialized ninja anyways, probably doing more work with the Intelligence Department than actually going into the field. And that makes this mission basically perfect for her.”

“Right, if you ignore the part where you are sending her out in the field.”

“You’re only meant to gather information, not get into a fight,” she countered. “And even if something happens, who better to handle it than you?”

Kakashi leveled his most unimpressed stare at her, letting her know he wouldn’t be won over by cheap flattery.

“Hey, we have to work with what we’ve got. Assigning you to escort her was actually better than I could have hoped for. Flattery aside, you know you’re a strong shinobi. I have complete faith in you.”

“I still don’t feel right about this. She may have the makings of a great sensory-type, but she’s still a civilian.”

“Well, when you’re Hokage, it’ll be your call.”

“Don’t even joke,” he deadpanned.

“Just, look out for her, okay? I appreciate that she’s even willing to go out there. If she hates it and she never wants to consider being a ninja again, I’ll respect that and back off. But I want to give her the chance to make that decision for herself this time.”

On that—at least—Kakashi agreed.

Not to mention, if he didn’t take the mission, that wouldn’t stop Tsunade from sending you out there with the next clown who was available. He didn’t want any other shinobi to be assigned if it was your well-being on the line.

“I’ll protect her.”

“Great. I told her to meet you at the gate tomorrow morning at 7:00. We want to make a good impression, so don’t be late.”

Kakashi arrived at the gate a half-hour early, his weapons pouches full of sharp, polished kunai and shuriken, as well as explosive tags, smoke bombs, food pills, and anything else that could possibly be useful. Taking a civilian on a mission was even riskier than taking a team of brand-new genin; at least they had the basic skills taught at the Academy. You were coming to him with an affinity for sensing chakra, but that was about it. Instead of sleeping, he’d spent the night checking, double-checking, and triple-checking everything; he would not be caught unprepared for anything that might threaten you.

You arrived with Tsunade about twenty minutes later. Tsunade must have given you a spare uniform; the dark blue outfit looking out of place on your figure. You didn’t wear a flak vest, and Kakashi wondered if Tsunade seriously withheld that just because you weren’t properly ranked.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a self-conscious smile. Kakashi could practically feel the nervousness rolling off of you in waves; from the way you toyed with your hair to the way you shifted your weight where you stood.

He didn’t want you to feel nervous. He wanted you to feel safe.

Safe with him, specifically.

“Alright, good luck on your first mission, Y/N!” Tsunade smiled, standing beside Kakashi and clapping her hand down on his shoulder with arguably too much force. “We’ve got you with the best of the best here, so just focus on identifying the chakra, and let this guy deal with everything else.”

Kakashi brushed Tsunade’s hand away, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I didn’t realize you held me in such high regard.”

“Of course I do! Besides, you guys aren’t even going through any enemy territory. It’ll be a breeze.”

You remained skeptical, looking back and forth between them. “If you say so.”

She may have been overdoing it, but Tsunade was trying to calm your nerves, and he should be doing the same. “She’s right,” he addressed you. “I can understand that you’re nervous, but I swear: I won’t leave you to handle anything on your own.”

Your eyes met his, and Kakashi actually felt his heart skip a beat. There was no way he would let anything get to you.

Kakashi counted himself lucky that the mission was technically all within the Land of Fire’s borders, but he still kept a vigilant watch. Your nervousness abated with every mile that passed without incident, and by the time you arrived at the town near the Land of Rivers’ border, you were almost too carefree.

“Wow,” you gaped at the unfamiliar surroundings. “This place is way different from Konoha. Ah, look! So cool!”

While you took note of the various shops and food stalls lining the busy street, Kakashi only focused on the way certain men in the crowd were noticing you. He stepped up to your side, putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you away from your gawking admirers. “Stay close.”

“Hm? I thought this wasn’t enemy territory.”

“It isn’t,” he conceded, “but it isn’t guaranteed to be friendly either.”

“Oh, of course. That makes sense.”

Kakashi tried not to feel proud of the way you nudged yourself just a little closer to him. “I didn’t say that to scare you,” he added. “It’s just best to stay cautious.”

“Understood.”

“Let’s find a place to rest. Tsunade’s given us a stipend for food and lodging.”

“Oh, that’s not a bad deal.”

“I have to be honest; this isn’t typical. It depends on the rank of the mission, among other things. Normally, a mission like this would mean sleeping outdoors and living on shinobi rations.”

Your mouth flattened in a tight line. “I see.”

Tsunade would punch my lights out if she could hear me talking like this. “They aren’t that bad,” he hurried to add. “It’s only on the really long missions that I get tired of them. And of course we have bedrolls so it isn’t completely uncomfortable…”

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “You don’t have to sell me on the whole shinobi thing, even though I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Tsunade asked you to.”

Kakashi nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Not in so many words…”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I wish she hadn’t laid it on so thick. I mean, what good is this mission as a trial run if she sets me up with all this extra stuff that I wouldn’t normally get?”

“You make a good point,” Kakashi agreed. “If you want, we could skip the inn, and spend this mission the way I assume it would really go.”

“Nah, let’s use it. I’m sure you don’t get the chance to take advantage of stuff like this too often. You might as well benefit from her scheming while you can.”

“If you insist,” he smirked.

He kept his hand on your back the rest of the way to the nearest inn, where he rented the cheapest room, knowing he would feel guilty if he used the opportunity to splurge. He realized his mistake as soon as he opened the door, internally screaming when he found that the room only contained one narrow bed.

Jiraiya would have a field day with this.

Kakashi immediately offered you the bed, laying out his bedroll before you felt pressured to start a charitable back and forth. He was the senior on this mission; it was his responsibility to make sure you were comfortable. And that did not include having him share the bed, much as he might wish differently.

As you both settled in, Kakashi tried just to focus on the mission ahead. According to Tsunade’s intel, all those who’d witnessed the jutsu had passed through the woods located southwest of the town. You two would search that area tomorrow in case the jutsu caster left any trace. With any luck, the search would turn up evidence quickly.

“This way.”

Kakashi gestured for you to follow him, but he was impressed with how little he seemed to actually need to direct you. It didn’t feel like he was leading a civilian. True, an experienced shinobi would be able to read his movements and anticipate the orders before he gave them, but you were keeping up much better than he expected. Maybe it had to do with your sensory skills. Either way, Tsunade’s plans for you might just pan out after all.

He would have to examine his mixed feelings on that, later.

“I think I feel something,” you said. “A concentrated mass of chakra, but it feels strange. Not like when I can feel a person’s chakra.”

“It might be some kind of trap. Be careful where you step.”

You nodded and continued on your way through the forest, keeping your gaze low to the ground. Kakashi had told you what to look for, explaining how to spot wires and other hidden obstacles, and while you would need to get quicker at it, he was pleased to see you’d taken his lesson to heart. Your sensory skills would only help you if the tools were chakra-infused, so familiarity with basic traps would be vital.

“I think it’s coming from this plant.”

Kakashi headed toward you, watching as you started reaching toward a large bell-shaped flower. Just as he was about to reach you, the flower petals unfurled, revealing a small sphere covered in tags.

A paper bomb!?

Kakashi grabbed you by the waist and jumped away only a fraction of a second before the bomb exploded. You landed on your back, Kakashi hovering over you to shield you from the blast. But the explosion wasn’t the type he had been predicting. Where he thought it would be all heat and shrapnel, there was instead a thick cloud of translucent mist, shimmering like dew on a fragile spiderweb. A dud?

Maybe I shouldn’t have tackled her, then.

He couldn’t even feel the density of the mist; if it weren’t for the way it refracted light, he might not have known the bomb had done anything at all.

Kakashi looked down at you. Your eyes were locked on him, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I think so,” you muttered. “Thanks.”

He scrambled to his feet, then held out his hand to help you up. “This is the chakra I felt,” you said, looking around. “Is it dangerous?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen this before.” Kakashi lifted his hitai-ate and opened his Sharingan to inspect the mist. It was difficult to make sense of what he was seeing. The substance hung in the air, a strange chakra aura hovering like fog. It had expanded in a thirty-meter radius from the source of the explosion—much wider than he had anticipated when he jumped backward. Something about seeing that cloud of chakra made his skin crawl. Even his mask felt too tight against his face.

Looking at you, he noticed some of the chakra had settled on your clothes and your face like pollen. He could even see it pass through your lips as you inhaled. Normally, it was instinctual for Kakashi to limit his breathing in the wake of an explosion. But he’d been so worried about protecting you, his instincts had failed him. He hadn’t even thought to warn you to hold your breath, either.

Whatever it was, it was in both of your systems now.

“We need to get out of it.” Kakashi scooped you into his arms, carrying you out of the cloud of chakra as quickly as he could. He was much faster than you were—it only made sense for him to carry you. At least, that’s what he told himself as he ran, trying to ignore the placement of his hands on your body. When he was clear of the mist and you could both breathe freely, he put you back on your feet. “How much did you inhale?”

“I don’t know… too much, probably. Oh Gods… I feel really warm. Is that bad?”

“I don’t know exactly; but don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He smiled at you, hoping to calm your nerves. “Let’s just get back to the inn, and regroup from there, okay?”

You nodded, putting on a brave face and following him on the way back into town. He could tell you felt guilty, but he didn’t know what else he could say. This jutsu was completely new to him.

Kakashi wished he had more medical training beyond bandaging his own wounds. Maybe there was some way he could be proactive. But with every step closer to the inn, he started to feel his own temperature rising. His flak vest felt gradually heavier on his shoulders and chest, causing his breathing to become more of a chore. He wiped his brow with his forearm and turned to look at you.

Your face was noticeably flushed, and you were panting despite the relaxed pace. You just looked so uncomfortable, tugging at your clothes as you tried to keep up.

“Is it getting worse?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m really hot now, and lightheaded… dizzy… You don’t feel any of that?”

“I’m a bit warm too,” he agreed, “but I probably didn’t inhale as much as you.”

“I guess that’s an advantage of your mask,” you offered, lightly smiling before your face twisted into a grimace and you doubled over, clutching your stomach.

“What is it??”

“Cramp—” You took a few sharp breaths as you let the pain pass. He waited as patiently as he could until you turned and looked up at him with your eyes open wide, pupils so dilated he could barely see any color. Your face was red and your lips were parted, like you still couldn’t catch your breath.

“We’re almost back,” he encouraged you. “I’ve got you.”

He said it with the best of intentions, but by the time he got you back to town, you were pulling at the front of your shirt and fanning yourself with the fabric. Your skin had gone from flushed to feverish, and the dizziness had progressed to a point where you were unsteady as you walked. Kakashi tried to steady you by putting his hands on your waist, but you had tensed up so much in response that he shoved his clammy hands in his pockets for the rest of the trip.

As soon as you got in the room, you curled yourself onto the bed in the fetal position. You were rubbing your thighs together and running your hands up and down your sides. Kakashi felt hot under the collar as well, and seeing you writhe on the bed like that certainly wasn’t helping.

“D-do you need water?” he asked, trying to think of any way to help.

“No,” you groaned as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“What can I do—”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N, you have to talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

You whined. “It’s embarrassing.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed abo—”

“I’m horny, okay!??” you hissed. “It’s so bad I can’t even think straight. I feel like I’m going to boil out of my skin. I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t…”

You trailed off with a groan, seemingly still in enough control of yourself to stop before finishing that sentence. But it was more than clear what you were about to say, and hearing you voice even that much of the truth forced Kakashi to acknowledge: that was exactly how he felt, too. The heat, the unsteadiness, the tightness in his groin. Loathe as he was to believe it, he understood what you both were up against.

Aphrodisiac.

Kakashi had heard of this type of technique before, but he never knew of anyone using it or being hit by it before. Honestly, he never even thought it was real. But his discomfort was already shifting into insistent pain, and he probably had less of the pollen in his system than you did. If this is how he felt, you had to be going insane.

Bigger problem: he had no idea what would happen if you didn’t do something about it. Is there any treatment other than…

Kakashi cleared his throat. “If you need to… take care of it, you can.”

Your cheeks burned even redder from embarrassment, but Kakashi noticed the way your fingers twitched like you’d been waiting for his permission. “Yeah?”

“I’ll just… watch. I mean—! Keep watch! From—” he frantically pointed to the door, “out there. I will go and guard the door.”

He waited for your answer, only recognizing your thighs rubbing together and the impatient look on your face five seconds too late.

“Right, sorry.” Kakashi slipped out of the room and quickly closed the door, sighing out a nervous exhale and letting his back hit the dense wood.

Idiot.

He brought his hands to his face, still warm from guilt and irritation at himself for saying such a stupid thing. But no wonder—there was so much blood swelling his dick that there was none left for his brain. The feeling between his legs was completely overbearing; heavy, tight, sensitive. Just the way his clothes were brushing against his dick had him biting his lip.

He tried to clear his mind, putting his arms rigidly at his sides and taking another heavy breath. Unfortunately for Kakashi, that turned out to be a huge mistake. His sharp nose caught a hint of you inside the room, the scent of your arousal making his mouth water and his cock throb.

With that, his self-control went out the window.

His hand slipped under his waistband without command, his fingers wrapping around his shaft and beginning to slowly pump. His eyebrows pinched together, failing to process how his actions brought him twice as much desire as it relieved.

Knowing in the back of his mind how wrong it was, Kakashi pictured you as he touched himself; thinking of how fucking sexy you probably looked.

Would you lie on your back? Legs spread and fingers pumping in and out of your needy hole? Or maybe you’d straddle a pillow and take it for a ride, rubbing that swollen clit against the fabric. Fuck, what if you were in such a rush that you grabbed his pillow? Stuffed it between your legs and rode it into the mattress until you were out of breath and exhausted, leaving your scent saturated in the fabric so he could bury his nose in it later. Like a wild fucking animal.

Shame made his cheeks hot. It was so wrong, but he still couldn’t stop imagining all the ways you might be pleasuring yourself right now; right on the other side of the door. And what dirty thoughts might be running through your head? Was your need so strong that you didn’t have to have anything on your mind? Or could he dare to hope that your time in close proximity meant that he was on your mind? Kakashi pumped a little faster and imagined your pretty flushed face, eyes screwed shut and head full of thoughts of him.

Knowing how twisted and perverted it was, he put his ear to the door and listened. He could hear the low creaking of the bed; the headboard lightly tapping against the wall in a precise rhythm. You were clearly trying to stay quiet, but your desperation had you huffing out muffled gasps and unsatisfied whines that made his cock ache in his grasp.

He could make you feel so much better. He could have you moaning and crying out his name. Kakashi… Kakashi—

“Kakashi…?”

His eye snapped open and he pulled his hand away from himself in a guilty rush. “A-are you finished?” he asked, sounding breathless and spent even though his dick was still painfully hard and twitching for attention.

“It’s not working,” you groaned, frustration and anxiety in your voice.

He slowly pushed the door open, giving you time to shout or throw something if he was about to stumble into a scene he shouldn’t see. But you were just sitting cross-legged on the bed, your pants on the floor and your lap covered by a pillow that he couldn’t help but be jealous of. He forced himself to ignore the now overpowering scent of your sex permeating the air; as if he needed more proof of your efforts.

“It isn’t enough.” You looked up at him with red, desperate eyes. “What’s happening?”

Kakashi moved without thinking, kneeling down in front of you at the foot of the bed and cupping your jaw in his palm. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“How?” You nuzzled into his palm, visibly calmed by his touch. Your cheek was so soft, so smooth… He stroked your skin with his thumb, forgetting for a second that he had no right to touch you—especially not with the hand he’d just had shoved down his pants.

Kakashi moved to pull his hand away from you, but you reached up and held him in place. “Don’t…” you breathed. “It feels good.”

“Y/N…” he warned.

“I’m sorry,” you whined, although you hardly seemed sorry with the way you reached your other hand forward and grabbed the front of his vest, pulling him closer. “It just… fuck, Kakashi, it hurts. I don’t know what to do.”

You looked him in the eye. “I think… I think I need you.”

The pained tone of your voice cut him deeper than any blade ever had. But he didn’t know what to do, either. He was responsible for you. It was his own fault this was happening to you in the first place. He should have protected you and prevented it, but he had failed. Miserably. Completely blown it.

So… the least I can do at this point is try to help, right?

No. It would be wrong. It would be so incredibly despicably wrong. Despite the lewd way he’d already thought about you, and the painful throbbing between his own legs.

“I can’t.” He leaned slightly back. “I can’t take advantage of you like that.”

“You breathed it in too,” you said. “It’s not taking advantage.”

“It is,” he insisted. “Even if I tell myself it’s just to help you… it won’t be that for me.”

“Kakash—”

“I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He blurted the truth before he could stop himself. “And I hate to see you in pain but I can’t pretend like I’d be sleeping with you just to get whatever the hell this is out of our systems. I want you. For a while now; not just because of some stupid airborne—”

“Kakashi.” You put both hands on either side of his face. “I want you too.”

Could that be true? Or was it just the poison talking? Why would you want someone like him, who would only complicate your life?

“Y/N, you don’t—”

“Please,” you begged. “Just listen. I won’t have the courage to admit this later.”

You renewed your hold on his jaw, making sure he gave you his full attention. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. I didn’t even think I was any good at hiding it; I thought that might have been one of the reasons Lady Tsunade assigned you to the mission with me; because she knew I had a crush on you and she probably figured I would be more likely to do this if it meant being around you. Which, honestly, if that was her plan then she was right. I was too scared to come out here until she said I’d be going with you.”

“R-really?”

“Really, Kakashi. I don’t want to be a shinobi. I didn’t even really want to when I was a kid. I was relieved when I left the program. And I was terrified when Lady Tsunade asked me to do this. I only agreed because I wanted to be with you. And I thought maybe—best case scenario—I could help you in some way and impress you because, I mean, I’m nobody and you’re you. You could have anybody you want, and if you’re saying that it’s me… Kakashi, you have me. You’ve had me the whole time. So at the risk of sounding like an Icha Icha character, just take me already.”

He laughed; caught off guard that someone so funny and bright and beautiful would ever feel that way about him. But the way you apparently felt about yourself was even harder to believe. “You aren’t nobody, Y/N,” Kakashi promised. “And I would tell you everything that’s incredible about you if I weren’t so distracted by how badly I want to kiss you.”

You blushed, your eyes shifting down to his covered mouth. “Can I take off your mask?”

Kakashi nodded. You adjusted your hold on him, gently hooking your fingertips under his mask and slowly tugging it down. He noticed your body start to tremble impatiently, and it made his heart melt; how you still moved slowly, prioritizing his comfort over yours. Your eyes roamed over every centimeter of skin you exposed, taking it in bit by bit until his mask was fully down.

You let the material fall from your fingers, your eyes lingering on his lips. “You’re sure?” you whispered.

“I want you, Y/N. Nobody else.”

He let you look for two more seconds, until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Urgently, he used his grip on your jaw to pull you forward, bringing your mouth to his and kissing you with hunger. You moaned against him, dipping your fingers into his hair and tugging to get him closer, shifting your legs to wrap them around his torso. In turn, he dropped his hands to your waist and hugged you close, kissing you over and over and over again. He couldn’t get enough. The feel and taste of your lips had him going out of his mind; even just the sound of each kiss drew him back in.

“Mmm, Kakashi…” You hummed between kisses, sighing his name into his mouth and running your fingers through his hair.

He put his hand on your shoulder and steadied you as he pulled back—only an inch. “I need to know this is real,” he panted. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“The only thing I regret is not telling you how I feel sooner,” you smiled. “Sounds like we could have been doing this for a while now.”

Like a force that only nature itself could produce, you and Kakashi came back together, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth as you tugged at his shirt. He crawled forward, causing you to lie flat on the bed. He grabbed the pillow you’d held between your legs and tossed it across the room. He may have been fantasizing about that pillow before, but now it was only an object in his way.

Nothing was going to keep him from you anymore.

He prowled over you, letting his heavy bulge press against your clothed core. Your body was warm to the touch, and he felt the heat between your legs as you rubbed against him. You each moaned into the other’s mouth at the contact. Despite the layers of fabric between you, rubbing himself between your legs still brought him a thousand times more relief than his hand had. He could only imagine how good your bare cunt would feel.

Soon, he would do so much more than imagine. And it seemed you had the same idea.

“Take off your clothes,” you grinned as you unzipped his vest.

Kakashi hummed as he shrugged off the garment without breaking the kiss. “The mask wasn’t enough?” he teased.

“Not even close.”

Kakashi gripped the front of his shirt and tore it over his head, admiring the way you blushed even harder at the sight of more of his skin, your eyes enjoying everything from his collarbones to his silver happy trail. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for permission to undress you as well. You nodded, letting him lift your shirt off over your head and giving him access to your gorgeous tits that he’d thought about on more than one occasion; when he couldn’t fall asleep without getting himself off.

He leaned down to suck harsh kisses into the soft flesh of your exposed cleavage. It felt so right to have you on his lips. He couldn’t resist the urge to bite down, leaving teeth marks all across your chest while you giggled and squirmed in his hold.

With every ounce of skill he had, Kakashi reached around your back to unhook your bra, flinging it away from your chest and groping your breasts like the shallow pervert he didn’t want you to think he was, in spite of his actions. But he didn’t stand a chance. Back home, you’d nearly caught him (more than once) ogling your chest in the midst of casual small-talk. Denying himself now—with you so beautiful and willing underneath him—would have been out of the question. And they were just so soft, reacting eagerly to the feeling of his rough palms and fingertips. If not for the influence of the pollen, he would have been happy to play with your tits all day.

Your nipples pebbled under his touch, creating the perfect peak for him to suck into his mouth. His name continued to tumble off your lips like a prayer. He never wanted you to stop saying it. It sounded so good in your breathless voice. Kakashi tested your limits by trapping your nipple between his teeth, biting down with more and more pressure until you were pulling on his hair and trembling below him.

“Shhhhh.” He licked your nipple to soothe it, apologizing for the rough treatment. “Just needed to see how much you could take.”

You laughed. “What exactly are you planning to do to me?”

His answer came in an emphatic groan. “Everything you’ll let me do.”

You pulled his mouth back to yours, kissing him harder and rolling your hips into him. “Pants—” you gasped. “Off.”

Kakashi chuckled against your lips, reluctantly pulling away and sitting up on his knees. He flicked open the button of his pants and grabbed the waistband of both his pants and his briefs, pulling them down slowly. It had less to do with teasing you and more do with making sure he didn’t cum in his pants, but the tortured and hungry look on your face was certainly a bonus.

Your eyes darkened as he exposed himself inch by inch; his skin taut and sensitive, veins standing out prominently all the way down his shaft. Finally, he took pity on you, bringing the elastic down past his engorged head. His cock sprang up and smacked into his stomach, a wet glob of precum sticking to his abs.

“Gods… Kakashi…” Your lips parted, your tongue darting out to wet them. “You’re so big.”

You started crawling forward, eyes hungrily glued to his dick. It twitched for your attention with the same persistent need he felt throughout his whole body. His fingers twitched with the ache to touch you; his lips tingling—needing contact with your skin.

Desperately, he reached out and pulled you to your knees to kiss you. You giggled and slid your hand down his chest, cupping his hot, weeping cock with a gentle grip that turned him into putty.

You maneuvered your hand around him, touching and stroking to familiarize yourself with his size and weight. Kakashi’s head tilted back as he let out a deep groan from deep in his chest.

“Feel good?” you whispered, kissing your way from his jaw down his neck.

Kakashi was so turned on, he was afraid to speak—afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make a sound beyond a pathetic mewl. Instead, he settled for vigorously nodding his head. Shivers erupted along his skin. The only thing on his mind was the need for more relief. His hand flew up to envelope yours, urging you to pump faster. “Keep touching me,” he exhaled. “Fuck.”

Teasingly, you started moving your mouth down the planes of his chest. “I want to taste it.”

Kakashi threaded his free hand into your hair, pulling your mouth back to his a bit more roughly than he would have if he’d been in his right mind. “Wanna taste you too,” he moaned. “Need to.”

He tossed you back onto the bed, crouching down and positioning his face between your legs. The center of your panties was drenched, and his eyes dilated like a predator locked on its prey.

Kakashi pressed his face against your panties, inhaling your scent and exhaling in a shaky groan. You smelled like something to be devoured, and he would be damned if he let it go to waste. His mouth watered, nearly as wet as your cunt. “You smell so fucking good.”

He couldn’t wait anymore. Kakashi flattened his tongue and licked along the drenched fabric, too impatient to think to take them off. You squirmed and tugged on his hair, breathless moans and pleas falling from your lips. He rutted into the mattress, kicking his pants and boxers off as he yanked your panties to the side and lapped at the mess between your legs.

It was incredible, but those panties were gonna be the death of him. Kakashi reached into his pile of discarded clothes, hooking the end of a kunai on one finger. He spun it around the digit to adjust his grip before cutting your panties down to shreds so he could finally have full access to your heat.

Now that there was no pesky underwear in his way, he hooked his arms under your thighs and rubbed your pussy over his face until he was covered in your juices. You squirmed, but there was no way he was letting your cunt get away from his mouth. Kakashi feasted on you like a man who’d lived on nothing but bread and water his whole life.

Dumb lustful indecision fogged his brain and made his muscles clench with impatience. If he had his way, he would go slowly. Enjoy himself. He would savor you; kiss and lick and suck until your cute little cunt was prepped to handle him. But the influence of the chakra pollen was too strong. His cock was no longer begging for attention—it was demanding. And humping the mattress wasn’t gonna cut it.

Not that he would settle for that, anyway. His aching hardness would only be soothed by the softness of your body.

Kakashi huffed in frustration, summoning the strength to tear his face from between your legs in order to climb fully on top of you. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, gripping your jaw and urging it open before rubbing his thumb over your tongue. “Need this.”

You looked so fucking cute, nodding with your wide eyes and your pink cheeks, and Kakashi wished he was in the right mind to take his time with you. He was as careful as he could manage, rolling onto his back and manhandling you into position above him—on all fours, your cunt poised just over his face and your mouth inches from his dick.

“There we go,” he proudly grinned, grabbing two handfuls of your ass and pulling you down to smother himself.

You moaned as you rolled your hips into him, desperate to ride his face. You bit down on his hip before licking one long trail from his navel down to his lap and up the length of his throbbing cock.

His hips automatically lifted off the mattress to follow you. Kakashi shuddered as his head slipped past your lips and found its home in the warmth of your mouth. The long-awaited pleasure was indescribable; he only knew that nothing had ever felt this good, and he would be lucky to last five minutes.

Kakashi buried his face in your dripping cunt, wasting no time before running his tongue and nose through your slippery folds. You whimpered, grinding down on his face and forcing your own mouth further down his shaft while you pumped the base with your hand to make up for what you couldn’t fit.

He snarled against your folds when he felt you take his tip into your throat, gagging and sputtering while saliva drooled from your mouth. He lapped at your clit with frenzied licks, desperate to make you cum before he blew his load down your throat. Your clit throbbed, still so unsatisfied despite your earlier struggle.

You said you needed him. He had to prove how good he could make you feel.

Kakashi focused all his efforts on your clit, expertly reading your reactions and memorizing what was too much and what made you search for more. When he felt your thighs tremble, he locked down his pace and pressure, single-mindedly working you to an orgasm that left his face a sopping mess.

He kissed your hole like it was your mouth, lazily licking up your juices from your still-quivering cunt. Even at the height of your orgasm, you were still spoiling his cock—sucking and licking and pumping—and now that he’d finally gotten you off, he was more than ready to do the same.

Kakashi threaded his fingers up your scalp and through your hair, gripping you and bracing you before he started thrusting into your mouth. He felt more of your saliva drooling down his shaft and dripping onto his balls, easing his frenzied movements. With only his own pleasure on his mind, he felt his nerves race to the edge almost immediately.

“Shit… I’m gonna cum…” he panted. “Will you swallow it for me?”

You responded by humming around his dick, massaging his balls to encourage him.

“Fuck—” he grunted, “Get ready, ahh—”

The first pulse was almost blindingly satisfying. Kakashi quickly let go of your head so he wouldn’t drown you, too relieved to be embarrassed by how much cum was spurting from his tip. It felt like it would never stop, making his eyes roll back in euphoric bliss.

He wrapped his arms around your hips and hugged to bring your cunt back to his face, pressing a flurry of kisses over your folds while you drank down everything he gave you. Rather than feeling overstimulated as his cock twitched one last dry time, he instead felt his body giving itself back over to the pleasure of your mouth. It still just felt good, and he could tell from the way you were riding his face that your satisfaction was short-lived, too.

It took more willpower than he was willing to admit to pull himself away from you. “Y/N. Hold on—come here.”

You crawled your way up his body, leaving wet kisses trailing from his pelvis up to his jaw. Kakashi positioned you to lay on top of him, pulling your mouth to his and indulging in another set of deep, passionate kisses.

He smirked against your lips when he felt you start to roll your hips into him. “You want more, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you whined. “I’m sorry; it felt better at first, but…”

Kakashi settled you with another kiss. “It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

“You too?”

He reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and sighing at the pleasure. “It shouldn’t be possible for me to still be this hard.”

You looked away bashfully. “I’m sorry I got us into this.”

“I’m not.” Kakashi rolled over to put you on your back. “True, I didn’t imagine it would happen quite like this,” he blushed, “but I did imagine this more often than I should admit.” He kissed you again, hoping he could explain himself without his greedy dick undermining his words. “I’ve imagined a whole life with you. And if this is how it starts… I’m not sorry at all.”

“Kakashi…” you whispered, blinking up at him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and clutching him close. You pulled him into another kiss, your fingers burrowing into the roots of his hair. “In that case, neither am I.”

Kakashi cupped your head in his hand and cradled you as he deepened the kiss. He could feel your body humming with anticipation below him. He ran his other hand down the outline of your body, taking his time as much as he could stand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he exhaled. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Please…” You whined against his mouth, titling your hips for friction. “Kashi, I need you.”

He smirked, kissing you one more time before sitting back on his calves. His eyes roamed your body hungrily as he gripped his cock. “Normally, it would hurt my pride that you still needed more…” He stroked himself once, twice before slapping his cock down on your tummy. “…But hearing you beg for my cock definitely makes up for it.”

You blindly reached forward and dug your nails into his thighs. “Gods, please put it in…”

His dick throbbed, a pearly string of precum dripping onto your stomach. You were absolutely gorgeous, and he had you pinned to the mattress, begging him to destroy you.

He rubbed his cock along your slippery folds, his sticky precum mixing with your arousal. The relief from that alone was nearly indescribable. But still, Kakashi felt like if he didn’t get to sink his cock inside your perfect little hole, he wouldn’t survive.

You shamelessly squirmed beneath him, and he knew you felt the same as he did.

“You need this cock, baby?”

“I do Kakashi I need it so bad…”

“Don’t worry,” he cooed. “I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

Kakashi lined himself up with your entrance; something in his brain snapping at the sight of being so close. His hips thrust forward, burying nearly his entire length in one shot. You shrieked, clawing at his back while wrapping your legs around his hips. Your plush walls sucked him in, the pleasure so immediate that he collapsed down onto your chest, his hips instinctively rearing back and plunging forward to feel more and more.

Kakashi forced himself to slow down, peppering soothing kisses over your shoulder. “Sorry,” he huffed, unable to suppress the grin spreading over his face. “It’s just so hard to hold back. I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Me too,” you panted, thrusting up to meet him. “Keep going. Please.”

Your mouth had felt incredible. But your cunt—it was where his dick belonged. It was designed for him. Even with all the teasing and foreplay, you were still so tight. And soft. And warm. And wet. Walls gripping him, suction pulling him in, drawing him deeper; he couldn’t fight it. He was only human. But in that moment, he could swear you were something more.

“Fuck… you feel so good, better than I even—hgnh, Y/N baby…”

Your breath passed by his ear in overwhelmed whimpers that were lost in the loud smacks of his skin against yours. He was reaching so deep, he swore he felt the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix.

“T-tell me if I’m hurting you,” he panted, letting his hips continue to slam into yours. “If it’s too much, I’ll…”

You’ll what? …Stop?

Even the thought of stopping made him grind his teeth in protest. His hips thrust even harder, proving that he had no say in the matter.

Stopping was not an option. He was gonna fuck your needy, precious little cunt until it was ruined. And maybe then some.

Your nails dug deeper into his back, his name rolling off your lips in desperate gasps mixed with tiny sounds of frustration. “Kakashi, don’t stop, fuck, I…”

“Yeah?” he grinned, digging his hands into your hips and angling you perfectly to take his every thrust. He pressed his chest into yours and latched his lips to your exposed throat. Covetously, he sucked a hickey into your throat while he kept pounding away, claiming every last bit of you for himself. It was all for him. He would make sure of it, leaving his mark on you with his mouth and hands so that no one could question who you belonged to.

You babbled praises, tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in your head. “Like that,” you gasped. “Just like that—”

Primal intuition guided his movements. He folded your left leg backward, grunting into your clavicle at the bone-deep gratification that raced along his nerves. You hiked your right leg a little higher on his hips. Desperately, he brought his mouth to yours, kissing you and panting, pulling away just for a glimpse of the cock-drunk look in your eyes before he quickly kissed you again.

He needed to feel you with every part of himself. It wasn’t enough to continuously stuff himself balls-deep inside you. He wanted to taste your lips and feel your body, leaving nothing untouched. He put his right hand over your breast, immediately rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger as he pushed your leg back further and rubbed himself over the sensitive area behind your clit.

You tossed your head back with an indulgent cry, pleading for more. “There… don’t stop!”

“Right there?” Kakashi felt your walls flutter around him, and he buried his face in your neck. It was too good; he wasn’t gonna last, and once he came this time, it would be the last of his stamina. But you asked him not to stop, and he wouldn’t. Not until he gave you what you needed. “What else? I’ll do anything you want.”

“W-want you to cum with me.”

Kakashi gasped out a curse, pounding away at your sweet spot. “Tell me where you want it,” he groaned. “I’m close.”

“I-inside. Cum inside. Please.”

Kakashi moaned, feeling the muscles in his pelvis tighten with enthusiasm. “Haa, oh yeah?” He pressed his pelvis down harder, increasing the friction on your clit. “Want me to—ngh—fill you up?”

Instead of answering, you yanked his head back within reach of your mouth and kissed him, moaning into his mouth and clinging to him. Kakashi couldn’t keep his answering smile at bay; he was too lost in his own delirious happiness. If he could have held out forever—stayed just like this—he would have.

But he didn’t have to. These feelings were real. After this, he still had hours, days, years to spend exchanging kisses and breaths and affection with you.

Kakashi grabbed your ass with bruising strength as his orgasm hit. His stomach twisted and his balls contracted, signaling a rush of endorphins that made his toes curl and his thighs shake. You squeaked against his mouth, pulled directly over the edge with the first pulse deep at the base of his dick.

You broke away from his mouth, but your limbs clutched to him as your own orgasm sent tremors through your body. “K-ka-kashi-i!” The broken sound of his name slipped past your lips over and over in a desperate whisper.

“I’ve gotcha.” Kakashi held you close, riding out his intense high while giving you something to stabilize yourself. “I’m right here. I’ve gotcha.”

The muscles in your cunt repeatedly tightened around his cock to wring out every last drop of cum he still had to offer. The tug beneath his navel tugged beyond the point of pain, but his cock still pulsed; keeping pace with the demands of your cunt until you finally came down. It left him panting, his forehead resting on yours as he stared into your eyes.

No trace of the jutsu remained; leaving just the two of you in a bubble of heady, genuine affection that quieted the last of his fears. When his lungs relaxed, he titled his head to catch your lips in a sweet, devoted kiss. You hugged him to your chest and answered his kiss with the same promise.

He stayed like that, blissed-out and content, until your spent pussy started quivering from overuse. He leaned away to give you space, but he was surprised when you reached out and grabbed his thighs.

“Wait,” you whispered, your bent legs trembling on either side of him. “Slowly.”

Kakashi nodded at you, his eyes sleepy under heavy eyelids. But he was careful as he pulled out, blushing at the sight of the milky fluid dripping from between your legs. You shivered at the empty feeling and finally let your legs fall to the mattress.

Yes, the jutsu had worn off. But you looked so beautifully wrecked, he almost believed he was ready to go again.

He gently cleaned you off with the sheet, resolving to destroy the evidence a little later and leave some money behind for replacement linens. It would have to be good enough; he was too exhausted to worry about a more discreet alternative.

The only thing he cared about was you; making sure you felt comfortable and safe, showing you that he meant every word.

Because he was already sure that he loved you—and when he inevitably told you sooner rather than later, he didn’t want there to be any room for you to doubt him.

Kakashi gently brushed your hair back from your warm face. You smiled up at him, nuzzling against his palm. He didn’t waste a second before leaning back down to sweep soft kisses over your cheek and neck. You giggled, then turned your head to catch his lips with your own, your fingers trailing along his sides and guiding his weight to press down into you.

Carefully, he rolled onto his side, cupping your jaw to make sure he didn’t break the kiss. You let him kiss you to his heart’s content until you eventually broke away, blushing and nuzzling into his neck.

Kakashi wrapped his arms around you. “You okay?”

“Mhmm, just worn out,” you sighed. “How about you? You alright?”

“Me?” He hugged you closer and kissed the top of your head. “I’ve never been better.”

You hummed warmly, returning his embrace and lightly kissing his collarbone. “I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” you guessed.

“I’ll carry you home if I have to.”

“What about the mission?”

“We learned more than enough about the jutsu for Tsunade to send a new team out here with some equipment to protect them from its effects. They’ll gather samples, and based on the way it worked, she should be able to develop an antidote.”

You snuggled closer into him, giving over to the intense wave of exhaustion left behind. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “We’ll head back to Konoha when we wake up. And once we get back, I think I owe you a date.”

► masterlist

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g0dlyunsub · 2 days

Note

hey! Idk if u take requests but I love your writing style and have a request! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the Bau but they have been together for like 7 months and she is girly and like loves fashion and is superrr pretty and the team doesn't know about her but they see Spencer out with her one day and can't believe he's with her/has a gf bc they're so different and they tease him about her bc he's just head over heels in love with her and they are so obsessed with each other and it's just so cute!!! Thank you in advance!!!!🤍🤍

yes, i do take requests! thank you for the kind words, and i hope you enjoy this one <3

picture perfect.

you work shifts at a local coffee shop where a man frequents every friday evening. at first glance, the two of you are polar opposites; while you are covered in flowery pastel colors head to toe, he dresses strictly in professional attire. when love eventually blossoms between you and the doctor, he makes every effort to be with you – even when teased by his coworkers.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: none? some suggestive overtone.

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: this is probably the fluffiest text i’ve written by far, i swear i’m biting straight into cotton candy. fingers crossed that i’ve portrayed the story well… accompanying song :: the perfect pair by beabadoobee

he doesn’t know how to deal with these unfamiliar feelings, especially when they’re eating away at his thoughts at work. his usual ability to read at 20,000 words per minute seems to be reduced to half its pace for almost seven days now, one of his worst nightmares in full action. he doesn’t know what to think when your bubbly face lights up in his head – when your pretty features accentuated by the glowy highlights around your eyes and the soft glassiness of your pink lips etch into his imagination. thoughts of you come to light like a switch in his head, and they pop up during the worst times, including a police chase on the highway, an interrogation with a female unsub that styled her hair similar to yours, and worst of all, whenever he tries to make coffee in the office. it’s almost a pavlovian response, the way he unconsciously gulps in tingling nervousness as he pours the sugar into his cup.

but he’s a man that thinks with his head, a man that doesn’t listen to his heart.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when you hand over his usual, dark espresso with three sugar packets on the side, with the words cheer up, doctor reid! <3 scribbled with winged hearts all around the cup, he has to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. there, he spends ten minutes clenching his shirt, squeezing the fabric with sheer strength because you and your actions are irresistibly adorable. he can’t look in the mirror, because he sees you standing right next to him in the reflection, and it drives him crazy.

he’s a man that thinks with his head. when he enters the coffee shop on one friday afternoon with a cut near his left brow, you immediately stop what you’re doing and go over to his table before he can even settle down in his seat. you insist on covering the wound, and you pull out a pink flower-patterned bandaid from your apron pocket. he watches as your hands lightly tremble to remove the adhesive strips, and melts at how you brush his hair aside to press the bandaid lightly against his forehead. it only takes a whiff of your vanilla scent to lose all sense of time and his surroundings – he can only look up into your heavenly eyes, which blink slowly in the hazy lighting.

he’s a man that should think with his head. when he sees you wearing an outfit that isn’t your coffee shop apron for the first time, he stops dead in his tracks.

it was late that friday, and it was well past his usual time to enter the shop, but he could never let a full week pass without surrounding himself in your jolly aura.

as you prepare to close the blinds and flip the store sign, you see a familiar face press a hand to the other side of the front door. you immediately let him in, and he’s frantically apologizing for his tardiness.

“it’s completely fine! i’ll get your regular going in just a second!” your bubbly laugh fades as you head back to the counter, and for the first time, he soaks in the emptiness of the shop’s usually chatter-filled environment. there’s only one overhead light turned on, and the scent of lavender drifts with a candle’s airy smoke.

he’s fixated entirely on your outfit. you’re wearing a ruched top with pink laces and frills for straps, and paired with a pleated mini skirt with knee-length socks, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. when you catch him looking, you strike a small pose, one hand on your hip and an empty coffee cup on the other. you then burst into your soft giggles.

he can’t. he absolutely can’t.

his eyes are glued down to where his hands are clasped on the table. when you ask him if he’s had a rough day, he answers with a simple two-word response, sort of. you don’t question him further, and he’s thankful you don’t.

if he believes in anything other than science, it’s aphrodite and her blessings to bestow your pluperfect presence before him. it’s as if cupid shot an arrow directly into his heart, or if a mage cast an irrevocable spell on him. he doesn’t want to imagine a life without you.

and every night since then, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. he wonders if he could somehow ask garcia to search you up, but he knows he shouldn’t exploit his position to take his chances with you. at least his head doesn’t want to.

his heart tells him to take a chance.

he decides to take the leap of faith.

he knows your favorite flower, clothing brand, and lip tint like the back of his palm. he recites the answers every morning, a secret rehearsal he conducts as he straightens his tie in front of the mirror. he makes a purchase from your favorite flower shop a few blocks away from your store, and sucks in a deep breath before flicking his watch so it rolls up his wrist. he gently presses on the door handle.

you’re busy as usual, preparing cups and plating desserts for each customer. the line moves forward with a rhythmic pace, and you greet each customer, regulars and first-timers alike, with the same smile. your eyes enlarge when your favorite customer stands in front of the cash register, and the sight of his face instantly transmits a sigh of relief from your lips. you look down at his hand, where you notice he’s holding your favorite flowers that are wrapped tightly in pink gift paper.

“ah, didn’t know you liked those too!” you lower your head to examine the flowers in their full glory, and spencer even brings them up to your nose so you can smell the sweet scent.

“they’re for you, actually.” he speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a hint of excited overtone.

“you got these… for me? i- thank you so much! you didn’t have to!” you hurriedly accept the bouquet as he extends his hand over the counter, and set the flowers down on a neighboring table. you scurry over to the cake display and plop a slice of cake on a small plate, before handing his usual drink with extra sugar on the side.

“all on the house!” your lips shape up into a beautiful crescent shape, and he finds himself fiddling his watch to resist looking you in the eye. he gives you a lopsided smile, and nervously grabs two forks from the counter before leaving you a ten dollar bill in your tip jar.

“i-if you’d like, you can come find me during your break. we can have the cake together… again, that’s only if you’d like,” his fingers jitter as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and before you can object, he’s making strides back to his seat.

when it’s break time, you find spencer in his usual corner, his cake left untouched.

“you shouldn’t have waited, really,” you grab a tall stool and set it so you’re sitting with your knees touching his. he looks up from his book, time and eternity by seiichi hatano.

“this is your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” he moves the plate towards you so you can take the first bite. when you do, staring right into his eyes as your tastebuds hit the fork, he instinctively licks his lips.

spencer tells you that he needs to get something off his chest.

“what is it?” you ask, and he points to your apron. loosen the knot behind your back, he tells you, and you do. you feel a note twisted in between the fabric, and you confusedly uncrumple the crinkled paper.

it reads, will you be my girlfriend?

the dot of the ‘i’ in girlfriend is drawn in with a shaded heart, and you bite your lip back as the cute aggression kicks in.

you don’t even hesitate. you have so many questions about how the paper’s even got there in the first place, but you couldn’t care to ask. you’re fervently nodding at him, leaning in and giving him a tight embrace. he hadn’t expected you to react so quickly, so he hesitates for a brief second before wrapping his arms around you.

present day, and he walks with you side-by-side, your hand enclosed in his. you’re humming a soft tune and he’s looking at you with a wide grin on his face. he’s so lucky to have you, an absolute dream come true. he’s grateful for how he gets to spend every night with you, a significant advancement from once every week at the coffee shop.

speaking of the coffee shop, it’s been seven months since the two of you sat together in the quaint corner of the café, and since then, he’s utterly fallen for you. his eyes follow your every move, and he listens as you ramble about your favorite dress on sale at the large shopping mall a few blocks from the apartment. while he makes mental notes of all of your favorite items, the reality is he’s finding it to be an incredible struggle trying to focus on your words. his focus hones in on your exposed neck with a laced choker wrapped around. it’s such a fragile piece of fabric, weighted with a heart-shaped locker with his initials. his initials.

he gulps. he wants to stick a finger between the fabric and your neck, and he wonders what it’s like to have you wrapped around his finger, so intimately linked.

just as his thoughts intensify, a voice breaks out from across the street.

“reid!”

you squeeze spencer’s arm as a group of well-dressed people approach the two of you, waving while their mouths hang open in surprise.

“there’s no way i’m seeing you on a shopping spree right now!” a woman with straight jet-black hair grins, her thumb hooked on her belt loop as she leans to one side. a woman with blonde hair and red glasses sporting a colorful spotted dress shortly joins the union alongside another man, who exudes a mysteriously charismatic air with his bold sunglasses.

they acknowledge your presence each with a handshake and introduce themselves.

“you never told me you were seeing someone,” morgan whistles, patting spencer on the shoulder.

spencer’s quiet during the entire exchange, and he mumbles quietly about how he’s busy helping you run errands.

“you guys moved in together yet?” the man continues to ask, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he smirks. you nod and gleefully say yes, to which spencer lets out a squeak.

“oh would you look at that! our little spencer’s all grown now! my man,” morgan leans in for a side-hug, and spencer awkwardly bows his head down. his entire face is now red, his lips buried in the soft texture of his scarf. garcia and emily look at you and spencer with an awestruck expression.

“where’d you find such a beautiful woman?” emily points a finger at you while interrogating spencer, and while you’re sure she’s just being nice, you can feel the heat surfacing from your cheeks.

“shut up, emily,” your boyfriend puffs, and he quickly grabs your hand and shoves it in his pocket. he mouths, let’s go, but you’re too polite to leave a conversation that hasn’t formally ended.

“aww, is our hollywood genius shy?” morgan prods at spencer’s arm, while spencer brushes his hand off with an annoyed expression. meanwhile, the girls compliment your style and continue to shower you with questions, asking you where you were headed to and how you met spencer.

“well, i’m glad to know you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. i sort of knew spencer was seeing someone, but i didn’t expect any of this. you’re the cutest woman i’ve ever encountered, and i’m sure spencer’s overjoyed to have someone like you,” garcia talks excitedly and grasps your hands in her palms.

“and i’m lucky to have met someone like him.” you smile sweetly, tilting your head to look at spencer. he’s looking at the ground as if it’s more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“take care of him for us, will you?” morgan winks at you.

“of course.”

“and remind him every day that he’s with the most beautiful person in the world.”

you feel a tug at your jacket, and you turn around. spencer’s face is lit up with a deep shade of pink, and you know he’s signaling that he wants to head home. you quickly turn to the group to tell them you have to go, and they nod understandingly. garcia offers a tight embrace and pouts as spencer practically pries you away from her.

when the two of you turn the corner, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure his coworkers are out of sight. he then encloses you in a tight embrace and kisses your forehead.

“i’m sorry about that sudden… encounter,” he speaks into your ear, and you feel your heart flutter. your eyes close momentarily, and when you open them, he’s peering down at you while his hand rubs up and down your arm.

“don’t be, i enjoyed talking to them,” you whisper back, staring into his steady gaze.

“i’m sorry for not telling them earlier, but i really meant to. i love you... so much.” he vocalizes the last five words with a breathy tone, and you freeze, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

they’re words you wish could be assembled and framed on a wall, transformed into something tangible that captures the picture-perfect moment of his romantic confession.

“tell me that a hundred more times when we get home.” you give him a cheesy grin before you blush at the realization of your own words.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #mgg x reader

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ilypaigebuckets · 2 days

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Jet Set - Paige Bueckers x Reader

this idea is from @princessrailgun-blog !! i hope you like this 🥲😛

plot: y/n attends university in windham, connecticut (semi close to storrs) and is on a flight from florida back to connecticut! on this flight she meets paige and the rest of the uconn wbb team

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Your leg shook as you anxiously waited for your plane to board. You had only been on one solo flight before, that being your flight to Florida only a week prior. Flying alone had probably been one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your entire life, but it ended up being a fun experience. You’d flown to Florida to enjoy a girl’s trip with some of your friends from high school. While it was a memorable and fun experience, you definitely were not looking forward to this flight back.

“Now boarding Group B! Boarding for Group B!” You groaned. Of course they would call your group before you’d finished mentally preparing yourself. You stood up and grabbed your carry on tote bag, and got in the line. In front of you seemed to be a sports team, because they were all wearing similar colors and warm ups. They were chatting amongst themselves until you saw out of the corner of your eye someone staring at you. She was the tall blonde girl of the group. You weren’t sure if she was making fun of you in her head, judging you, or something else so you decided to give a classic little wave and a “Hi!”

She seemed surprised and stuttered a bit as she began speaking, “Uhhh hi! I’m Paige, nice to meet you!” You smiled at her and just nodded, you being shy and not really knowing what to say. “You going to Connecticut too?” She asked you. You looked at her and giggled. “Doesn’t this flight only go to Connecticut?” Paige’s eyes widened and she wanted to choke herself for saying something that sounded so dumb. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Haha, just messing with you.” You shook your head as she winked at you. The line kept moving and it was finally your turn to board. You showed your boarding pass to a flight attendant and she directed you to your seat: 35A. You were pretty happy with your seat (it was a window seat!) and it only had another seat next to it instead of the usual 3-seater. You put your bag in front of you and slid into your seat.

Then, you saw the same pretty blonde girl walk up. She looked at you then back down at her boarding pass. “I guess your stuck with me for this flight, I’m sorry about that!” You rolled your eyes and just smiled at her. With your nerves fading into oblivion you decided to be a little bold. “Don’t be sorry, I was hoping I could get to know you a little better.” Her cheeks got a little rosier and she looked the other way. “I’m Paige, by the way.” You extended your hand to her, “I’m Y/n! So were you in Florida for a school trip or something?”

“Sort of, I’m on the Uconn Basketball team and we played a game in Florida on Friday.”

“No way! That’s so cool! Did you guys win?”

“Yeah, we won. It was a pretty easy game honestly, but uh you should come see for yourself sometime. What part of Connecticut are you in?”

“I’ll have to see, definitely ;). I’m in Windham, that’s not too far right?” Suddenly the plane started to take off and it bolted down the runway. All your nerves flooded back to you and you froze in your seat. Paige looked over at you worriedly, “Y/n? Hey, you ok?” You nodded and tried your best to fake a smile at her. “I’m fine, just a little freaked out by planes is all.”

Paige nodded and looked down at your hand. Would that help you? If she squeezed your hand? She thought about the pros and cons of her boldness. She could squeeze your hand and you would either be forever grateful and in debt to her and fall in love with her, or you would think she’s a total weirdo and in that case she could just never talk to you again after she got off that plane. Paige decided to follow through on her bold move and reached down to squeeze your hand. Your palms were sweating with nervousness. She rubbed her thumbs against the outside of your hand in an effort to calm you down.

“I know touching pressure points can help with nerves sometimes, I get it. Take some deep breaths I promise you’re gonna be safe. You need some water.” You just shook your head and stared at her. “No, I’m good. I just really don’t wanna look out the window right now.” Paige nodded her head, she knew you needed a distraction to help you calm down a bit. “Okay, I gotcha. Just look at me then. Wanna play 20 questions? That way I can get to know the brain behind that pretty face.”

You weren’t sure if Paige was flirting with you organically or if it was just in an effort to calm you down. Either way you appreciated it, and found yourself immersed into the game of 20 questions with her. You learned about how she grew up in Hopkins, Minnesota. How her favorite color was purple. How she’d torn her ACL and how hard it was to recover from that for her. You told her a lot about yourself as well. From where you grew up, to your family life, your college experience, your favorite color, favorite food, you name it she was asking you about it.

“Attention passengers,” said the flight attendant on the intercom, “we are getting ready to descend into Connecticut. Please put your seatbelts back on and thank you for flying with us today!” You frowned. It had been 2 and a half hours already? That was weird. Talking with Paige seemed like it only lasted minutes.

“Awe, already? Man, I’m not ready to stop talking with you! I still had more questions to ask you!” Paige threw her hands in the air jokingly and slouched in her seat. You giggled at the girl’s antics. “Well, the flights not over yet. I think we have time for a couple more questions.”

Paige smirked at you. “Well I’ve only got one left for you right now, Y/n.”

“And what is that, Paige?” Paige leaned in close and

“When am I invited to Windham to see you again?”

You blushed and laughed nervously. “Well that just depends. When are you going to ask me out on a date?”

“As soon as we land.”

#wlw post #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers x oc #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wbb x reader #wbb #wlw

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hyuny-bunny · 2 days

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cybersex | ot8 series

prologue. chapter I

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. this prologue has suggestive themes, nudity, and mentions of butt plugs

skz x fem!reader

a/n: I'll have chapter 1 up soon but I hope you all love this series as much as I do!

synopsis: after a month or so of becoming a camgirl! your career really takes off, you decide to get a place of your own to film content. a lovely building opens up with the perfect space for all your necessities but to your surprise, your favorite waiter boys and long time crush on the head chief of the restaurant you work also happen to live in the building. Bringing you to meet their own assortment of friends. what happens when they find out there's some holes in the stories you tell about your life style?

prologue

You always had a keen interest in the sex work. You had an nsfw twitter page for yourself but it was only really used as a means of saving material or on a bold occasion, posting some captions with said material. There was a thrill of seeing your notifications filled with compliments and praises of like-minded people who were just as horny as you. Your roommate Sana had gotten into doing camgirl work pretty early on. You had indulged your curiosity on occasion when she and her girlfriend would be streaming just down the hall from you. Popping onto the stream to see your roommate's body on display and her girlfriend sat cutely between her legs wearing nothing but a heart-shaped butt plug. Sana would encourage you to try it out at least, very aware of how much you had desired to try it out but always holding back. Financially speaking, you could only benefit from it. In comparison to what you two made in a week at your measly waitress jobs, she could make both your checks for two weeks in just one night and even double dependent on how long she streamed for.

“You’re not worried that someone will recognize you?” You asked standing in the newly furnished cam room, floor to ceiling decorated in all shades of pink imaginable.

“Not anymore, I revealed my face on stream so long ago, I haven’t given it much thought since. Besides, I could walk away at any moment I decide. I will admit there was a certain thrill with covering up in the beginning. I think there's something about hiding your identity while being in such a lewd state that elicits such an adrenaline rush. It makes the excitement of being watched and gawked at all the more fun.” Sana is now leaning on the desk where her camera and lighting equipment reside.

“I like the fun, bring me as much joy and excitement as it probably does for my followers,” There’s a slight flush that rises to the tops of her cheeks that you can still make out in the fluorescent lights, “The biggest thing for me is it gives me the confidence I need, the financial security is just a bonus.”

The windows were covered by drawn curtains that covered the entirety of the walls, allowing the room to only be lit by the neon color-changing lamps which to no surprise were set at a baby pink. The floors were covered by a fluffy throw rug, with very little wood peaking. There is a makeshift sofa bed that's covered by an assortment of pillows and silk sheets and another fluffy blanket. There sat on the floor is the giant white teddy bear, Mina, Sana’s longtime partner, gifted her just a month ago. You stayed quiet, absorbing your surroundings. You were amazed but also… jealous. Jealous of how she could find confidence and find security in what most people found so vulnerable. You let out a sigh, sitting on the almost too-silky sheets that caused you to slide right off the bed.

“Careful. You can imagine how slippery they are in the nude,” She laughed softly as she stared at you, waiting to speak again. “I see the gears turning… What’s on your mind kit-kat?” Your eyes bolt up to her.

“I’m just... A bit taken aback I guess. You could say jealous maybe. This is the frist time I’ve ever considered it as a viable option…” You let the sentence trail off not knowing what to say.

All your life, you had complexes about your body. Measured your self-worth in the way your body looked, and how it compared to other girls you had admired. The older you got, the better you were about mentally checking yourself, to realize it was okay not to be shaped like other girls. Finding it in yourself to feel secure in the body you had. Although you could keep those insecurities at bay most of the time, they would crawl out from under the bed like a hideous monster to plague your thoughts when you felt down about the lackluster love life. Bad dates, unreciprocated feelings, and talking stages that never went anywhere, that was the extent of your love life.

“You want to give it a try?” That question pulled you out of your thoughts, now you were the one with a bright flush across the tops of your cheeks. “I can help you get started, set up your account, and start promoting you on my own account to start you off with a bit of a following. That’s if… you really are serious about this.” Sana had always been so sweet to you, she had already been letting you take the spare of her 3-bedroom rental as you couldn’t afford to live on your own. She had always extended a helping hand when you needed but here was a chance to finally get you to land on your own feet for once. How could you refuse such an opportunity?

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m cut out for something like this I mean look at you! I don’t know how anyone is supposed to get off looking at-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re never allowed to see Jiji again,” Sana interrupted, Jiji was your shared house cat who was slowly becoming more yours as time went on. “ I don't want to pressure you into anything but I just think you could actually see the benefit in this. Give it one try and if you don’t like it, I erase every trace of you.”

You sat with the thought, your brain tugging you to go for it. One chance and if it doesn’t work out no harm right?

“When can we start?”

masterlist • next chapter ->

#skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunybunnywrites #cybersexseries

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perotovar · 2 days

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baby, i'm-a want you — (bonus) "platinum tier"

gif by me

pairing: din djarin/dieter bravo rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 1.2k content: swearing, mentions of monster fucking, furries, and oviposition, sex toys, a/b/o dynamics, unprotected p in a, "knotting" (it's not real, just go with it), talks of aliens, masks, copious amounts of lube, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily both ♥)

a/n: this was written for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub may drabble challenge! go read the others and join in on the brainrot with us ♥

series masterlist

for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

“Do you believe in aliens?”

It was the first thing Dieter Bravo said to him when Din walked on set that day. In fact, it was the first thing Dieter Bravo had ever said to him. They’d only seen each other in the halls of the studio and around catering before this.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing Dieter had ever said to him since, but well, he wasn’t expecting it either. With big, dark eyes, Din looked Dieter over. Those unruly curls and dilated pupils being staples of Dieter’s appearance.

“Never mind, it’s not important,” Dieter waved him off, putting his sunglasses on. He had a joint sticking out of the mop of curls on his head, resting precariously on his right ear.

Din raised a brow, an amused grin crossing his features. They were going to film a scene together in a few moments and Din would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. He’d watched Dieter’s content for a long time, and it was rare for him to have scene partners. Almost all of Dieter’s videos were solo, with the most outlandish toys and concepts than anyone on the site.

Dieter appealed to the monster fucker and furry communities, to put it plainly.

In fact, Dieter got recognized at the AVN Awards last year for being able to take the biggest non-human dildo in a single session.

So, the question of aliens was just normal conversation, Din assumed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know?” Din asked easily.

“Of course I do,” Dieter scoffed. “But it’s not for the reason you think.”

Din blinked, listening intently for Dieter to continue.

“Okay, maybe it is,” Dieter’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and leaned on the railing next to them outside the studio. “I just wanna know, like,” he scrambled for the words, hands moving in all directions. “If– No, when, they invade, or I dunno, visit, I guess? Would you be scared or turned on? Who knows what they’ve got packing in there, y’know?”

Din snorted and shook his head in amusement.

“Listen! I’m just saying, those tentacle and dragon toys I have are amazing, but it’s nothing compared to the ovipositors I have, okay.”

Din raised his hands in defeat, not denying it in the slightest. “I believe you,” he chuckled. “You were going to use one of those toys with me today, right?”

A slow, dopey grin grew on Dieter’s face. “Yeah, but not one of those. I’ve got an idea for you, big guy. Max gave me the green light,” he winked, looking at Din over the top of his sunglasses.

A shiver traveled down Din’s spine in excitement.

“Mmm, fuck, Din,” Dieter whined, his body trembling below the larger man. His skin was flushed a lovely red color, his chest heaving rhythmically.

Din smiled from under the helmet. His breathing sounded heavier under it, making Dieter’s head spin. This is why Dieter wanted to work with him. He was talking to Max about how sexy he found Din’s content because he was always masked and he could be anyone underneath there.

But Dieter was lucky because he knew what Din looked like.

The toy Dieter had put on him was something he called a “wearable”. It was a silicone second-skin of sorts, to put on top and around Din’s cock. Normally Dieter was happy to have Din’s cock bare and beautiful, but this wearable had a knot at the end, and well.

Dieter was in a mood.

“C’mon,” Dieter pouted, wrapping his legs tighter around Din’s waist impatiently. “Knot me,” he smirked, arching his back teasingly.

Din growled and slammed his hips forward, the top of the knot brushing the rim of Dieter’s hole enough to make him gasp in surprise.

Din normally cut an imposing figure on an average day, so with the storyline of Din being the “alpha” to Dieter’s “omega” it really drove the point home.

Large, rough hands gripped Dieter’s soft, pudgy hips and squeezed as he started fucking into him in earnest. Dieter’s eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering shut and lips parted obscenely. Din’s heart pounded with the effort of his thrusts as heat settled at the base of his spine.

The sounds coming from them were filthy. Dieter preferred to have an obscene amount of lube in his videos and it was no different with a partner, the slick wet suck of Din’s cock fucking into him being caught by the mics perfectly.

One of Din’s large hands traveled up Dieter’s sides and rubbed a pebbled nipple with his thumb, his hips never letting up on their pace.

“Oh, fuck,” Dieter moaned shakily, his thighs trembling on either side of Din’s narrow hips. The small puddle of precum collecting on his tummy started dribbling down his flushed skin. “P-please,” he whined, looking up at Din with big, wet eyes.

A low rumbling simmered deep in Din’s chest as he gave Dieter what he wanted, slamming his hips hard against his ass. It took two more thrusts and Dieter was shaking like a leaf as he came with a shout of Din’s name, thick spurts of come landing on his chest.

Din groaned, eyes locked on Dieter’s disheveled appearance. “Fuck.”

He raised Dieter’s legs and folded the other man nearly in half, into a mating press, and chased his own release.

Dieter moaned loudly, his toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets tightly in his fists.

“You want it?” Din growled.

“Y-yes!”

Neither of them could even feel the silicone anymore at this point. It just felt like Din’s cock had this extra little something, this knot.

And when it pushed past the tight ring of muscle of Dieter’s hole, it felt like heaven. Dieter made a sound none of them had ever heard before as a weak trickle of come released from his overstimulated cock.

Din pushed one more time once it was inside and erupted as he came, head thrown back and a loud grunt echoing underneath his helmet.

They breathed hard, chests heaving. Dieter’s curls stuck to his forehead and Din’s mask was fogging up underneath.

“Cut!”

“Why haven’t we worked together before?” Dieter panted, eyes glued to a throbbing vein on the side of Din’s neck.

Din lifted the helmet off and smiled down at him, leaning over to kiss Dieter’s lips languidly. Dieter hummed into it and wrapped his arms around the larger man’s neck. They’d be stuck connected like this for a bit until Din’s cock grew softer.

When they parted, Din pretended to think about it. “Maybe it’s because I don’t believe in aliens?”

Dieter froze and blinked at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Well…” Din smirked, pinching Dieter’s nipple. He watched as Dieter’s face twisted into shock, but spoke before he got too upset. “Kidding! I’m kidding,” he laughed, kissing Dieter again.

“Oh my god,” Dieter slammed his head against the pillow. An assistant came over to them to ask if they wanted water, and they nodded. “I almost threw a fit. You’re such a dick!”

Din snorted and winked at him. “You’re just easy to tease.”

Dieter blushed a little and looked into his eyes again, melting a little at the look he saw there. “Can I have your number?”

A wide smile graced Din’s features.

“Only if I can have yours, alien boy.”

#dieter bravo #din djarin #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #oaksfics

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accio-victuuri · 2 days

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let’s have a much more comprehensive conversation around the apple airpods max cpn. 🎧

first mentioned here cause yibo was wearing it for the olympics music video. and one question was why wasn’t he using the green one? i know he shouldn’t always pick the green version of things, but that color would actually complement his watermelon jacket. lol. he wasn’t photographed ever using one, he was either wired or airpods. it is work-related but i wonder how much of it yibo had control over. i’m thinking alot cause ( this is me guessing ) it’s not some paid endorsement deal. his clothes and styling are most likely his own and the rest is arranged by the olympics team. i hope that makes sense. it’s not like he was given millions to be an ambassador. i am treating this the same way as his other pro-government/patriotic projects, mostly unpaid.

i’m focusing on this to explain why most of us think that the headphones is his personal property. they are not sponsored by apple or anything that we know of.

the first time this headset appeared was on November 27, 2023, ZZ posted a selfie wearing this headset, and then he also wore it when he was at the airport. as for wyb, he wore this kind of headset in the Olympic theme song released on May 1st.

it was all clowning and matching coincidence from the start & they are not the only two people in the world who uses this. but on 5/12, going back to Beijing, ZZ was wearing wired headphones which is his usual one. they were in the same city for a bit, before WYB had to fly to Shanghai. Then today, ZZ was photographed now using the airpods max. 👀

The CPN: the 🎧 is at their Beijing home and WYB picked it up and used it for his Olympics MV as a prop ( reminds me of the nanushka top lol ). now that XZ has come back, it’s one of things he is taking with him. and by doing that, he unintentionally gave us some candy cause we had been lowkey talking about it. what are the chances that it appears again right after they happen to be in the same city.

other clues people are pointing out with what WYB was using: WYB is wearing the headphones backwards (the left and right ears are worn backwards, there is a button on the right ear) , which means that it is not his own and he would not wear this kind of headphones. it can also be seen that the middle mesh has been raised. It means that it has been worn for a long time. in the behind the scenes video posted by YBO yesterday 5/13, the 🎧 were nowhere to be found which could mean it’s his own. but i’m thinking of, the video was focusing more on the physical sports he did during the shoot.

let’s just add this to the long list of couple/ matching things that they have 😂😂😂

source ( 95便士的月亮 )

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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annwe24 · 13 hours

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Part 2!DEVOTION

Part 1

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

You wake up with a sense of dread. The first thing you do is eyeing the neatly folded clothes on the edge of your bed. You have never questioned his fashion choice. But now, you start seeing the pattern with the color white and the doll-like features. It is almost as if this is all simply a dollhouse for him to play with. It is sickening.

You find him at his usual spot in the kitchen, cooking as always. If this was a normal morning, you would be a little noisy. However, as of right now, even a slight creak of the chair feels interrupting. Lucifer sets down your plate of food. You notice a strange glint in his eye. He is oddly quiet too. Putting on his white coat, he softly said to you:

I am going to be home late tonight. Please don't wait up, okay? Get some sleep.

Where are you going?

Somewhere unimportant.

He says as he pats your head.

…

Sleeping is what you should have been doing right now instead of contemplating. You think about a lot of things, especially memories. You remember the time you went into existence. Almost all of your life is spent here in these confining walls. Lucifer created you from the holy dust of a dead exorcist out of pure curiosity. He loves creating and experimenting. Rubber duck is just one of his countless creations, including you. He loves his creations. You can't help but smile at the memory of him hunching over his desk making a rubber duck. For something so small, he spends so much time and energy, wanting to achieve perfection. Just like how he loves you. Are you being selfish?

Bang!

The noise makes you jump out of the bed, blanket and pillows fly all over. Could it have come from Lucifer? You glance at the clock. The green electric light read as 2:04. It couldn't have been an invader. The mansion is a King’s residence afterall. You consider the most terrifying possibility: Lucifer is letting out his frustration. Even so, you find the courage to go downstairs and calm him down. For someone who is supposed to be a ruthless ruler, just the mention of your name is enough for him to stop whatever he’s doing. You can't handle the thought of Lucifer getting himself hurt.

It's pathetic. He’s pathetic. Never in your life would you have expected to see this: Lucifer wasted next to a broken vase. Even the air around him reeks of alcohol. Dusting the invisible dust on your nightgown, you mentally prepare yourself to lift his body up multiple staircases to reach his room. Looping one arm around his back, the other under both of his legs, you carry him in bridal style. Although you struggle greatly due to the weight, you can't help but feel embarrassed by the fact that Lucifer’s face is pressed close up your chest.

Finally, you manage to drop him on his king-sized bed. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you return to the matter at hand. You need to somehow change his current attire into something more…decent. Even with his white coat removed, the smell of alcohol cannot be extinguished. Hesitantly, you slowly remove the button of his waistcoat, then you move onto his shirt. The air around you feels disturbingly hot and you don't like how fast your heart is beating. As you're onto the third button, a hand shoots up to grab your own. You flinch at the sudden warmth that his hand provides, not daring to look at him straight in the face.

I’m sorry. Lucifer said with a raspy voice, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

F-for what?

You silently curse at yourself for stumbling over your words like some teenagers. You probably sound stupid right now. Before you could answer, he had used his other free hand to caress the back of your head, tangle his fingers through the soft locks of your hair. Without warning, he crashed your head into his chest. You are an absolute mess right now. Whatever game he is playing, you are willing to be the victim, melting under his touch. You can faintly hear your heart beating in tandem with his heart. Through decades of living together, you two have only given each other delicate touches on the shoulders or hands, not enough to leave burning marks on your whole body like this. You figure it is the alcohol that urges him to act so boldly. It stays like that for a while. Silence befalls on the both of you. The only sound that you can make out is your breathing noises. Just you and him. It has always been that way.

After some minutes, he lifted the entirety of your body up. You let out a small squeak as Lucifer lands you next to him onto the bed. He immediately engulfs you into a tight hug, your body flushed together. If someone were to ask you something right now, the only sound that could escape is your blabbering.

I’m sorry for everything.

The vibration coming from his chest steers reality one step further from you. Still, you collect yourself as best as you can to dissect his words. What does he mean by that?

What do you mean by that?

You find the courage to lift your head and look Lucifer in the eyes. The truth is finally so close.

I’ll…tell you everything later. Now is not the best time.

Okay, I understand.

If time is what he needs, you will gladly give, as long as the truth is delivered. Plus, you're not sure if you can understand half of the words if he decided to spill right now. The only thing you can make out right now is the fact that Lucifer looks absolutely stunning. His shirt is unbuttoned, letting you see a bit of his bare chest. His waistcoat is clinging loosely on his torso. You had never wanted to strip something off as much as this. You don't realize how dangerously close he is right now to you. Just a slight movement, a kiss can be delivered. You also don't realize how both of you are unconsciously leaning into each other. But intentionally for a kiss? You don't feel a kiss is what drawing you two closer. It is an instinct, a desire to be with one another. That desire slowly ignites into a passionate kiss you two are sharing. There is no battle to be won, no fighting for control. Just a slow dance of two mourning souls. The night passes with tenderness, clothes thrown onto the floor, forgotten. That night, your dreams are made of sweet little nothings, unaware of the angelic wings wrapping your sleeping form.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer fluff #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #hazbin fanfic #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #fanfic

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melodramaticatheart · 2 days

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We Have A Deal - Lyra x Gray

word count: 1.2k

book: the grandest game series

ship: lyra kane x grayson hawthorne

requested by anon!

I adjust my crimson dress, the silky fabric whispering against my skin as I glance at Grayson. "You clean up nicely, Mr. Hawthorne," I remark, a hint of a smirk playing on my lips. I’d seen him with a suit on before but never one like this. The color reminds me of stormy clouds, like his eyes. It suits his personality perfectly. I silently chuckle at the wordplay, watching as Grayson parks in front of a valet. The car ride was silent, thirty-five excruciating silent minutes to be exact, it was no wonder why I was going insane making jokes to myself.

Hawthorne boy had decided to take me out to dinner to discuss the next part of our plan. He’d showed up at my apartment three weeks ago saying he knew who I was and that he wanted to help with my dad’s mysterious suicide, all I want is to go home and regret ever calling him in the first place.

“Ms. Kane, are you going to get out of the car or will I have to carry you out?” I look at my now-open car door and see Grayson extending a hand. I must’ve been lost in thought. “No need Grayson,” I say, staring him right in the eye. I get out of the car without taking his hand.

The first thing I pick up on is the faint noise of live music. Jazz music. “You like jazz, correct?” I spin to where Grayson is standing, watching me I realize. He looks at me closer waiting for an answer. “Yes I do, I've just never had the pleasure of hearing it live.” I hear the way my voice softens at that last part. I hate how much he knows about me. I was supposed to have the upper hand in this. I quickly dismiss the recurring thought and walk into the club without waiting for him. Sadly he catches up to me in three long strides. I walk beside him silently as he leads me to a booth at the corner of the club. Couples are dancing to the music closer to the back of the club while others enjoy their drinks at the bar to the side. It’s the band that gets my attention most of all. I’ve always wanted to listen to jazz live, but I’d never gotten the opportunity. Vinyls were the closest thing I could get to it. In one word it was electric. “How did you know I liked jazz?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. I turn to the blonde boy sitting in front of me looking for an answer. “The day I went to your apartment for the first time you were listening to the Time Out vinyl. I thought it would be better to bring you to an environment you could be comfortable in.” He’d picked up on that? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but he can remember what music I was listening to three weeks ago? I shift in the booth not knowing how to respond so instead I change the subject. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” I stand up running a hand through my dress. “An espresso martini,” Grayson says, looking at me. My eyebrows shoot up. “You drink?” “Rarely, but I think I’m going to need it if I have to deal with you all night” I scowl at his response, making my way to the bar. I order quickly, making my way to our table to continue our impending conversation. “Ok, Hawthorne boy, why did you bring me here?” I say shooting him a look. He takes a sip before hitting me with a question instead of an answer. “Are your classes starting soon, Lyra?” I straighten not expecting that. “They start in two months,” I respond watching as Grayson takes a sip of his espresso before setting it aside. “You want to know what my family has to do with your father's suicide, well it’s not that easy Ms. Kane.” “Nothing’s ever easy with you, Hawthorne boy.” I retort staring him in the eye. “But I’m assuming you didn’t drive me thirty-five minutes to tell me that” A sly smirk starts making its way to my lips.

Grayson’s eyes glint in the dim light of the club. “Maybe I just wanted to bring a pretty girl to a jazz club.” He tilts his head, looking every bit the white rich boy persona I imagine him to be. But I can’t dwell on the fact he just called me pretty because he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket to show me something. “I found this in my family’s home, I thought you’d find it interesting.” He holds out his phone to a picture of a file named Thomas Thomas. “This isn’t my dad,” I say flatly after scanning the page's content.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Grayson shifts in his seat taking another sip of his espresso. It was clear he didn’t drink alcohol often with the way his eyes watered at the taste. “Your little riddle and this file are our only clues, at the moment.” He says trying to think of something to say.

I’m about to say something when he cuts me off making me shut my mouth once more. “I have a proposition for you. I’ve been debating it but I don’t see any other way I can help you.” He seems to pause a second before sharing with me his idea. “Every year my family hosts some sort of game this year it’s private. That means we can pick our contestants unlike last year-” “Grayson I know all this. What does that have to do with us?” I cut him off confused with where he’s taking this. He only stares at me.

That’s when I realize I said ‘us’ as in me and him. A team. I sink back into the booth until he responds. “This year the game is a little different” I watch how he traces the outline of his cup “I want you to be in the games this year.” I can’t help it I burst out laughing, me on an island for two weeks, yeah right “I’m sorry I need a moment, I can’t take you seriously,” I look up to see Grayson’s straight face. The laughter bubbles up again. I wipe at the tears in my eyes before taking a sip of my wine. “No” “Why not? You’d be getting paid, you’d be comfortable, and we would be close so we could work together to figure out more. Plus I’d have more resources there with me.” I watch as he lists the reasons. Good reasons. “Grayson no, I can’t, look they are good reasons but I have a life, I have my mom who would go insane if I didn’t text for two weeks, it won’t work.” I can’t leave my life not when I have her depending on me. “I want to help Lyra I do, it’s been eating at me. And I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure you’re at peace.” He stares at me with those stupid pretty eyes of his. I look away trying to collect myself.

“If I do this, you have to promise me I'll be able to contact my mom at least once a day.”

“Deal”

“Ok then Hawthorne Boy, I guess I am one to play games after all.”

⊹‿︵‿୨ི୧‿︵‿⊹

THATS THAT ME ESPRESSO

this is my longest one shot ever but idk i hate my writing 😭

taglist: @heqrtlcss, @reminiscentreader, @urbanflorals, @lyrakanefanatic, @mrswarnerxo

#soph writes 𝜗𝜚 #the grandest game #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #the inimitable livers #the final gambit #grayson hawthorne #lyra kane x grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x lyra kane

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sunnyskiestls · 1 day

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Raika Hojo - Idol Story 1

(Two years after ES’ establishment. At a park near ES’ building)

Raika: Toryaa~☆

Ahem, it’s time to get tonight’s dinner, thaaank you ♪

W-What? Is that– A human…?

I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry–! I made a mistake. I was clumsily trying to capture something edible, like a pigeon, a cat, or even a dog– Not a human.

So with that being said, I’ll let onee-san go. I apologize deeply for the inconvenience~♪

Hmhm, oh, my stomach feels like it’s eating itself, it’s so empty… What should I do, I used up all of my remaining energy on attempting to capture my prey…

M– Mm, my stomach is too… Empty… I can’t move… Gh.

Hhm…? Eh… Candies? And you’re giving them to me?

Raika: I’m so very grateful! Wasshoi, wasshoi![1] Onee-san is truly a goddess~♪

Lick, lick ♪ Rooolling my tongue around it ♪ Eheee, it’s so sweeeet… ♪

But, what should I do? I have nothing to offer you to express my gratitude.

I was taught at the “facility”[2] to always return the kindness shown to me by others.

Nnh. For now, may I ask to know your name? I’ll remember it for later, to make it easier to repay the favor.

Uhum, Anzu? Anzu-oneesan, is that right? Okay, got it!

But I’m such a bird-brained type of person that I’d forget it after walking only three steps, so I’ll need to make a memo of it somewh–

H-hmhm?

Eh? Ahh, I should have told you my name first, shouldn’t I? Please excuse my flagrant disrespect! ♪

I am Raika Hojo, and I’m nothing more than filthy and stingy.

Ehhh, it sounds like “a dirty thief”? And that’s– That’s suspicious, is it…?

About that… That’s strange, here I thought I could disguise myself quite well.

Eh? My wording is a little strange, you say? Is that so? Really, really~?

Nn? You say, that aside, if I’m hungry, you’ll buy me a treat from the convenience store… Huh?

Eh, eh?! I’m wary when people are overly kind to me, as it’s strange, so…?

C- Certainly you don’t intend to capture and sell me off…?

Raika: I heard from Grandpa Sakuma once that, a long time ago, there was a place where people like me were captured and shown off…?

That’s not the case? You say you’ve heard about me through ES’ information?

Hahaaa~ And because Anzu-oneesan is a producer— She wants to be kind to me, as I’m an idol?

So that’s the case. Good, good… Well then, I shall take your word for it, ehehe~ And it’ll be a nice treat! ♪

Raika: Onee-san, onee-san, those steamed meat buns are really piquing my interest.

Look, they’re so warm, so soft, sooo fluffy… ♪

Ah but, I’m also interested in this pizza bun here. Is it pizza, or is it a bun? The mystery only deepens.

“If you’re interested in both, you can buy both”?

Thank you so very kindly, thank you! ♪

Uuuu… I feel like bursting into tears. This is the first time anyone has ever treated me with such kindness–

Nn?

What’s wrong, Anzu-oneesan? Your face seems devoid of color now…?

Ehhh? You’ve lost your wallet? “I can’t buy meat buns without money”, really…?

Ah! Is it possible, your wallet— Is it this one?

Raika: Ehehe. Good, so it was Anzu-oneesan’s wallet after all then, that’s a relief.

Now, you have the means to buy those meat buns! Those meat buns that I’ve been longing to enjoy for myself… (Drooling)

…? Eh, you want to know where I found this wallet?

“Did you pick it up somewhere?” I stole it from Anzu-oneesan’s pocket earlier, when we bumped into one another!

…? …? Eh, what? What’s with that look on your face? Are you angry?

Well, come to think of it, I was taught at the “facility” that it was a crime to steal others’ belongings, so…?

I- I’m so terribly sorry for this disrespect! I’ve returned your kindness with such a cruel gesture! A- Are you angry with me, Anzu-oneesan…?

Could it be that you’re no longer in the mood to be kind to someone like me…?

Eh? You say your wallet feels strangely swollen now?

Raika: Ahh, well I know that stealing is wrong. I thought I could cancel out the “bad thing” I did by doing a “good thing” that would outweigh it!

I decided to increase the contents of your wallet! ♪

So then, will this truly cancel out my stealing? Onee-san, you don’t hate me, do you…?

Ehehe. So then, as long as I promise that I won’t steal again, Anzu-oneesan will buy me the steamed meat buns that I want, as promised— Really?

Wowww ♪ I’m so happy, onee-san has such a strong sense of duty, doesn’t she?

Gh– hyaaaaaaaaaaaa?!

Kyuu… Please, don’t shout so suddenly! It’s startling…!

Eh? Centipedes, pill bugs, and bee larvae are spilling out of your wallet…?

Yes! That’s what I said, I increased the contents of your wallet!

I didn’t say that I made you more money, right?

Raika: Eh? No good? S- Seems like it’s rather easy to anger Anzu-oneesan…?

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

> [1] Wasshoi is similar to most English phrases of joyous exclamation, but none of them felt quite right to me. Feel free to interpret as anything from "woo-hoo" to "yippee"

> [2] "Facility" in this case is really only part of a word. The kanji used often refers to care homes for the elderly and similar such things, and can also be used in some spellings of orphanage. Raika is suggested to be adoptively related to the Sakuma family in this story, through context clues.

Thank you for reading!

#📚 Stories #raika hojo #enstars translations #ensemble stars translations #my translations #ensemble stars #enstars #hojo raika

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tetheredfeathers · 14 hours

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Prompt: “How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?”

A little prompt challenge me and @littlemarianah started.

Click here to her version of this.

No pressure tags at my lovely mutuals to continue this challenge.

@thesweetnessofspring @mollywog @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Kiss me

I rested my back agsint the couch as I watched Peeta swirl his brush to imitate the roots of Rue’s dark hair. Watching Peeta paint was so calming, his face seemed so relaxed I wanted to place a kiss on his forehead. I noticed that his curls looked mussed and wet on his head, just like they did when he came out of my shower the night before the quarter quell.

He furrowed his eyebrows, and his face took on that special look of concentration as he dipped his brush into 3 different colors to get the color of Rue’s skin just right. I had the sudden urge to reach out and fix his right eyebrow, since one side seemed more brushed out than the other.

I observed that after each stroke he let out a small puff of air, relieved that he didn’t make a mistake. He never used to do that before, so confident about his paintings, my heart broke as I realized it must've been due to the hijacking. His chest puffed in and out so majestically, I wanted to place my head on his heart and listen to it beat, just like I did all those night on the victory tour.

“How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?” Peeta suddenly looked up and chimed, a smile tugged on his lips.

“Like what,” I asked, surprised. What? I can’t even watch him peacefully anymore! I thought as he stared at me.

“I don’t know you’re just…” he trailed off. “Never mind.”

Peeta went back to mixing his colors and I resumed memorizing his face.

“Here I’m done, what do you think?”

Peeta leaned in closer than he needed to as he showed me the finished picture. I took the opportunity to rest my head on his shoulder as I judged the picture for much longer than needed.

“Maybe just add some more flowers, it looks a bit empty. “I lied, wanting to watch him for just a bit longer.

“Okay,” Peeta sighed.

I budged closer to him, swept my finger across his cheek. He looked up at me, surprised.

“Eyelash,” I said.

“Oh.” Disappointment scrunching face.

“Here make a wish.” I whispered

Peeta closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath before blowing it away. I looked up at him and licked my lips. We were sitting way too close I could feel his breath on my cheek. I should move away, but really I couldn’t.

His eyes peered into mine as he looked at me questioningly, so I tipped my head and brushed my lips against his, then pulled back to watch his reaction. He gasped loudly as I leaned in again، this time pressing my whole mouth against his. Peeta groaned loudly at the back of his throat and a surge of warmth rushed through my belly, at the noises he was making. Peeta slipped his tongue out and swiped it across my upper lip, a beastly urge came over me as I eagerly opened my mouth and climbed into his lap. Our wet tongues danced against each other languidly, his hands slid up my waist and caressed places I never thought needed to be.

“You were looking at me like you wanted to kiss me,” Peeta panted out between breaths.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #thg #katniss and peeta #tag game #everlark prompts

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chrkrose · 1 day

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I’ve always taken issue with the velaryons race swap because deep down I feared it would happen at the expense of a canonical black woman, and that it happened only to serve white characters and make them more palatable. In between actual representation of a black girl storyline vs scraps and disrespectful content just so the writers can pat themselves on the back, I would always choose the first one (nvm that we shouldn’t have to CHOOSE anything because the writers sure have time to develop and even make up new white characters, but I digress).

And let me say something: Rhaena and Baela do not belong in this conversation, unless we are discussing the real issue of writers thinking that black people are interchangeable and the treatment of these characters now that they are black. Outside of that, their book arcs, the unfairness of having their storylines not adapted DO NOT BELONG HERE. I can’t for the life of me give a flying fuck about Baela and Rhaena right now because they aren’t there for representation. They are white characters in their core, race swept for inclusion points and so the writers feel better about themselves, while giving these girls zero development or screen time worthy of their talent, all the while excluding a black character whose arc actually represented black people. Nettles is the one to be discussed here. I can’t for the life of me be “happy” about rhaena getting more storyline when that storyline comes at the expense of a black girl’s arc. All the power to their actresses and actors, but Baela, Rhaena and the velaryons don’t represent shit. Morning and Rhaena storyline line from the books can fuck eat shit for all I care about. It’s a fucking disrespect to have to accept scraps with black characters whose writers don’t even bother giving lines outside of serving white characters.

I’m 200% done with this show. I’ve been a fan of Nettles for years, the disrespect is insane. She has always been ignored in this fandom because she’s black, she has always been underrated because of her skin color and now she’s being erased for the sake of writers who want brownie points and people clapping for their choice of coming up with black characters who’s only purpose is to propel the white ones they actually care about. A racist, garbage show lead by racist garbage writers. I’m done.

#nettles

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king-bumis-armpit · 1 day

Note

Hey! If you are still looking for maiko prompts.

You could write a sour zuko finding out that Mai and kei lo broke up. I like imagining ways for him to find out and what his reaction would be.

And I’m always a fan of stories where Mai runs away when zuko is banished, or try to smuggle herself into his ship.

Anyway, have fun!

Put a Ring on It

Summary: Kei Lo buys an engagement ring. Zuko freaks out.

“I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it. He had well and truly lost her. He had lost her to another man.

Author’s Note: This idea was given to me by a lovely anon! If you have any Maiko fic ideas that you want me to write, send them my way! And thank you, if you already have <3

Gene Luen Yang wants me to believe it took Mai and Zuko 3 years to get back together. Ha! I spit in your face, good sir. This fic will do it in one! (I’m kidding, I’m kidding… mostly. I hate the comics but I’m sure Gene’s a decent fellow.)

This fic takes place 8 months after the events of Smoke and Shadow, vol 3. It’s canon compliant up to that point, and canon compliant with Korra, but I know nothing about the comics that chronologically happen in between so it might contradict those. For the purpose of this fanfiction, marriage proposals in the Fire Nation are the same as modern proposals with an engagement ring.

Also! Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the moms out there! You’re the best!!

Zuko made his way quickly through the rain, hood pulled tight over his head. He was out with only a few plainclothes guards today, hoping to maintain some anonymity. It was only a week until the Feast of the Mother of Faces, and Zuko had yet to find a suitable gift for his own mom. He wanted to get her something especially nice since they had been apart for so many years. He was pretty sure his last gift to her was a macaroni necklace, and figured he had to at least up his game from that.

His uncle had given him some recommendations of places to shop, and the first of which was a small but well-known jewelry store in the Caldera. As he slipped inside, he noted that the place was nearly empty except for the store clerk. His guards would be watching the door from a tavern across the street, and were instructed not to check in unless he spent over an hour in the building.

The spectacled shopkeeper looked up at his arrival, “Can I help you find anything, sir?”

“I don’t think so?” Zuko replied. “I’m just browsing for a Feast of the Mother gift.”

“Ah,” the man nodded in understanding. He gestured to the wall to Zuko’s right. “We have a lovely selection of necklaces and pendants that might be suitable. Prices are listed on the tags. Let me know if you have any questions or if you would like me to remove any items from the case.”

Zuko smiled and gave the man a slight bow. This was shaping up to be easier than he expected. He looked through the glass at the different options. He noticed some that were similar to pieces he recognized from his childhood. There was one in particular, a gaudy and ruby-encrusted flame, the size of his fist, that reminded him of something his father would buy. Best to stay away from those. There were some cloth chokers, similar to one that Katara occasionally wore when she was in the fire nation. He wasn’t quite sure they would be his mother’s style, but perhaps he should send a memo to Aang. (For a monk, who swore off material things, that kid sure bought a lot of gifts for his girlfriend. The thought made Zuko smile.)

Then, he caught sight of a delicate silver chain. Most women in the Fire Nation preferred gold, but Zuko knew one woman who hadn’t.

— —

“Silver matches my knives, Zuko. The aesthetic of it all is very important to me.”

Zuko snorted. They had decided to explore the numerous palace basements, and had come across one of the many treasuries, nearly all of it gold. Mai had immediately protested the lack of her favorite metal.

“Well gold is the emblematic color of our nation, so most of the royal jewelry is gold. You’re going to have to get used to it eventually.” Zuko blushed when he realized the implication of his words.

“Oh? Why is that?” Mai asked, fixing him with a satisfied smirk.

His cheeks were burning, but he decided to play it cool. “I plan to put a golden crown on your head one day… if that’s alright with you.”

Mai kissed his cheek, and then his nose, and then his lips. “I think that’ll be alright. One day. But I really would prefer silver.”

He cupped her cheek with his palm and guided her in for another kiss. That was the last room they managed to explore that day.

— —

And even though they were no longer together, Zuko thought about her more than he cared to admit. He leaned in to examine the silver chain. It carried a small charm, about the size of his thumbnail. The charm itself was also silver, fashioned into the shape of a plum blossom. A wine colored garnet– again, a favorite of Mai’s– was nestled in the center of the flower. Zuko felt his heart seize. It was perfect, but not for the person he was supposed to be shopping for.

He contemplated buying it anyway. Maybe he could stop by Mura’s after this and place an order for a bouquet. Surely his mom would want flowers. And if Mai was there, he could give her the necklace. What’s a gift between friends?

The sound of the door opening broke his reverie. The rain had gotten heavier since he entered the shop, and the new customer had practically flung himself into the building, allowing the door to slam behind him.

The shopkeeper seemed slightly irritated by this noisy appearance, but nonetheless asked him the question he had asked Zuko. “Can I help you find anything, sir?”

The man removed his hood, and Zuko felt his muscles turn to ice. It was Kei Lo.

“Oh yes please!” He gave a good natured smile, all cheerfulness and boyish charm as he swaggered up to the counter. The universe was taunting Zuko. Of course he couldn’t buy a ridiculously expensive present for Mai. She had a boyfriend. She had made that quite clear when he last saw her eight months ago.

“What are you looking for?” the man asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Zuko noticed how Kei Lo shuffled, seeming nervous. “I– I’m here to buy an engagement ring.”

Zuko was going to be sick. He was going to throw up. Right on the floor. Right in front of the store clerk. And right in front of Mai’s soon-to-be-fiance.

“Congratulations!” The storekeeper seemed to have fully gotten over irritation and beamed from ear to ear.

“Thanks!” Kei Lo said sheepishly. “I haven’t asked her yet, but we’ve talked about it before so I’m confident she’ll say yes.”

Zuko took several deep breaths and forced himself to quietly turn and face the display case once again. Kei Lo obviously hadn’t noticed him yet, and he knew that any interaction between them would be a disaster.

“Have you discussed ring preferences?” the older man asked.

“No, but I’m thinking something gold and traditional.” Good, Zuko thought bitterly. At least Mai will hate it.

As the two walked over to the ring cases and discussed the pieces, Zuko’s thoughts began to spiral. How had this happened? He had well and truly lost her. Mai, his soulmate, his best friend, his plum blossom. He had lost her to another man. Except…

Except he hadn’t yet! Kei Lo hadn’t asked her yet. He could buy his own engagement ring from a different shop and ask her right now! Or he could run there and ask her without one.

“Prince Zuko!” He heard his Uncle’s voice in his head, echoing the wisdom of the past. “You never think these things through! You had no plan! You could have died!” Then he said something about ice and chasing the avatar. The exact words were hazy, but the sentiment was clear. He was too impulsive.

He needed to wait and collect more information. Then he could form a plan and– and then what? If Mai wanted to marry Kei Lo, then he knew he had to support her. He wanted her to be happy more than he wanted his own happiness. But when he spoke to her in the Dragonbone Catacombs she herself admitted that she didn’t like Kei Lo as much as she had liked him. He cursed himself. He had driven her away and broken her heart twice! Now she was scared to trust him. But if he could just convince her to give him one more chance, he could fix it. He had learned how painful it was to live without her, and he would not repeat his mistakes.

His heart ached to imagine Mai in a wedding dress at someone else’s side. Even as a kid, when he pictured his wedding, he pictured Mai as the bride.

— —

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Little Azula tugged at their mother’s sleeve. “My friend Mai is here and we want to play a game with Zuko! Please! Ty Lee is sick, so we need another person.” Zuko rolled his eyes. He considered Mai to be a shared friend since they all used to play together at Ember Island, but lately Azula had been calling her “my friend Mai.” It made him angry and he didn’t know why.

Ursa patted her daughter’s head. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you think, Zuko?”

He crossed his arms. He remembered what happened last week with the apple. But if Ty Lee was sick then Mai was alone with Azula. What if his sister was teasing her? Or telling her lies about him? He needed to intervene. “Sure. I would love to play with you Azula.” His tone of voice did not match his words, but his sister didn’t care.

“Good!” Azula grabbed his hand and marched him into the fountain garden. Zuko knew that this couldn’t possibly end well.

Mai was sitting under a tree, twirling a knife. She looked up at their approach and raised an eyebrow, “I thought you went to get mochi.”

Azula shrugged. “I changed my mind. I want to play a game.”

Mai looked at Zuko with great trepidation. He couldn’t blame her. Last time Azula said those words, he had tackled her.

“No firebending this time, Azula,” he ordered.

“Of course not,” Azula agreed. “We’re going to play wedding. I’ll be the officiant and you two will be the couple.”

It took all of Zuko’s discipline to not stare at Mai and search her face for a reaction. He heard her sigh, and he felt his stomach drop.

“Well,” Azula prompted. “Come here.” She made Mai and Zuko stand facing each other while she launched into a monologue about the rich culture of the Fire Nation. She went on for a while and Zuko was so bored that he almost forgot to be embarrassed. When Azula wasn’t looking, he noticed Mai yawning. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “And naturally,” Azula carried on. “Fire bending comes from the breath. In order to symbolize the joining of flames, the couple will now share a breath and share a kiss.” She looked at them expectantly.

“Azula, I don’t think we should do this,” Zuko protested.

His sister smirked. “Why not? You don’t want to kiss Mai? She’s not pretty enough for you?”

Zuko saw red. “Mai is really pretty! You take that back right now!”

“If she’s so pretty, then kiss her!”

Mai cleared her throat. Pink dusted her cheeks, but aside from that her expression remained neutral, “Can’t we just pretend?”

“What do you mean?” Azula asked.

Mai shrugged. “Like this.” She leaned slightly closer to Zuko and kissed the air.

“That looks ridiculous,” Azula said.

“That’s weird. I thought you said you were better than Ty Lee at everything.” Mai’s words made no sense to Zuko, and apparently they made no sense to Azula either.

“Well yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Mai smirked, “I bet Ty Lee would be able to pretend. She’s more creative and she has a better imagination.”

Azula was irate. Zuko knew first hand that people were not allowed to be better than her at anything. “I have an idea,” she replied. Zuko shuddered, that was Azula’s scary voice. “Next time, Ty Lee can be the bride. I bet Zuko would kiss her.”

For once, Mai’s facade cracked. Her face scrunched up and Zuko was afraid she was going to cry. “No!” Zuko cut in. “I don’t want to play this game with Ty Lee.” Azula huffed, but Mai looked up at him hopefully. He took her hands and kissed the air like she had. “I now pronounce us husband and wife.”

“Hey!” Azula pinched his shoulder. “That’s my line.”

Thankfully he was spared a confrontation by the arrival of his mother. “Zuko! Azula! It’s time for dinner.” She caught sight of Zuko and Mai’s clasped hands and smiled. “You’re welcome to stay too, Mai. I can send a servant to your mother to let her know.”

Mai politely declined, and Zuko was sad to see her go. That night, he thought for the first time about what his wedding might be like. He imagined hands entwined with own, slightly colder than his. They were soft except for the side of her index finger and thumb where she gripped her knives.

— —

Zuko caught himself staring at his own hands, and tried to shake off the memory. Since that day, he couldn’t help but picture Mai as his bride. It was almost involuntary. But if she had truly grown to love Kei Lo, then he would have to get over it. His mouth tasted like ash.

Zuko pulled his hood down, to the point where it hung in his face obnoxiously, and he walked over to a display case of bracelets that was closer to the rings. He tried to appear nonchalant as he looked over the merchandise, but he listened to the other two men intently.

Kei Lo was in the middle of speaking. “I walked into her shop one day on a whim. She was so beautiful. I asked her out on the spot and the rest is history.”

The older man smiled. “How lovely! I met my husband at work as well. He came in to buy a gift for his grandmother and he kept coming back. Eventually, I asked him out because I was worried he would bankrupt himself spending so much money here.”

Kei Lo laughed. “Wait, he bought something every time he came in?”

“Yes,” the shopkeeper shook his head. “I think he felt guilty for wasting my time. But we’ve been together for thirty years at this point and I don’t consider any of them wasted.”

“Wow! My girl and I have only been together for seven months.” Kei Lo replied. Zuko huffed. That was wrong. He and Mai had been dating for nine months at least according to what he learned from Ty Lee. Kei Lo really should know that.

“What’s her name?” the shopkeeper asked. Zuko shuffled close still, pretending to admire the bracelets in the sale section. Unlike the others that were behind glass, these hung from artful stands. He allowed his fingers to graze a band of beaded obsidian.

“Her name is Machi,” Kei Lo answered.

Zuko spun around, but his sleeve had caught on the stand and the entire thing toppled over, making a terrible noise and scattering bracelets across the floor.

“I– I– I’m so sorry,” Zuko’s face burned hotter than the sun.

Kei Lo looked at him stunned. “Zuko?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes went wide. With the scar and the name, he put it together. “Fire Lord!” He bowed at the waist, and– for a moment– Zuko was worried the man would lose his glasses. “My deepest apologies. Had I known it was you I would have helped you pick something out for your venerable mother–”

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Zuko reassured him and the older man rose from his bow. “I’m sorry. I knocked over your display stand and the bracelets–” Zuko righted the stand and began to gather the fallen items, but the shopkeeper would not have it.

“Oh no!” He rushed over to help. “You do not need to clean my shop, Lord Zuko. Thanks to you, my husband and I were finally married under the law.”

Zuko smiled, “I’m glad. But still, let me help you. It was my fault after all.”

Kei Lo clapped a hand on the shopkeeper’s back. “I’ll help too.”

The three of them quickly subdued the mess. The shopkeeper noticed a few damaged pieces which he took to his back room for repairs. Zuko made a note to send the man compensation.

While the store owner was removing and cataloging the damaged pieces, Zuko and Kei Lo were left alone. Kei Lo broke the silence. “So… How’s Mai?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko answered honestly, and the awkward silence descended once more.

Zuko felt relief course through his body. After making a fool out of himself, he could finally take it in. Mai and Kei Lo had broken up. Kei Lo was engaged to someone else. Kei Lo thought that Zuko and Mai were talking.

The first part was wonderful news. Zuko felt it was safe to assume that Mai had dumped Kei Lo. When he released Kei Lo from the prison, the man had made it abundantly clear that he was with Mai to stay. Besides, the thought of Mai sending him on his way made Zuko very, very happy. The only potential concern was that the breakup had happened a long time ago, at least seven months. And, in all that time, Mai had made no effort to see him. For all he knew, she could be with someone else too.

“Umm…” Zuko did not know a subtle way to ask what he wanted to know. “Have you heard if Mai is with anyone right now?”

Kei Lo shook his head. “To be honest, I’m surprised she’s not back with you. She was normally so… neutral, I guess. You know how she is. But when she talked about you, a light would enter her eyes. She would go on and on…”

Zuko felt a spark in his chest. “Really?” He could hear the pathetic hope in his own voice. “She seemed so hesitant to trust me again. I thought she hated my guts.”

“No,” Kei Lo smiled wistfully. “I take it you don’t know how we broke up.”

“To be honest, I thought you were proposing to her.”

Kei Lo let out a raucous laugh. “HA! Agni, that’s why you bumped into the bracelet stand. Were you spying on us?”

Zuko laughed along sheepishly. “Kind of. I really did come here to get something for my mom, but when I heard your request… Part of me wanted to run to Mai right then and make a grand declaration.”

“I would have paid to see that. Front page news: The Fire Lord’s Shocking Proposal.”

“Yeah,” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a good thing I didn’t.”

“Well, I was going to say that after all the stuff with the Safe Nation Society, Mai and I had a talk. I told her that if we were going to keep dating, I needed to know that she was over you. She has this one portrait of the two of you, and she keeps it in her dresser. I told her to get rid of it or I was gone. She made her choice.”

Zuko remembered that painting. He had one very similar to it in his own room that he kept on his desk. His was in ink and hers was in color.

And then he remembered that he should probably express some sympathy for Kei Lo. “It seems like it all worked out for you in the end though. I wish you and Machi the best.”

Kei Lo nodded. “Thank you. I’m so glad I found her. I was really upset when Mai and I broke up, but it all seems so trivial now. For what it’s worth, I think you should reach out to Mai. See if she still has that painting.”

“I think you’re right.” The two men shook hands. If Zuko had learned anything from this experience, it was that he didn’t want to wait anymore and risk Mai moving on completely. He needed to find her and apologize and beg for her to come back.

When the store owner returned, Zuko purchased the plum blossom necklace.

Endnotes: I’m open to writing a part two where Zuko gives Mai the necklace if people would be interested. (I mean, I might anyway even if you all aren’t, lol.) But I wanted to get this out close to Mother’s Day since I made up the Fire Nation version of Mother’s Day for this fic. And, a big HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all the moms!!!

Also, I couldn’t get into it in the story, but Kei Lo is that guy who falls for his barista, right? He went on like one date with Mai and then decided she was his reason for living. So I thought it would be hilarious if that’s how he met his next girlfriend! And then he could ambiguously say that he met her at the shop where she works which is also how he met Mai. Anyway, it was a funny head canon that made me laugh.

Thank you again to the anon who suggested this! I hope I didn’t make it too silly. I love putting our dramatic boy in ridiculous situations. Also, I plan on writing your other idea as well at some point, but this one demanded to be written immediately <3

#atla maiko #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #mai #atla zuko #atla mai #maiko #mai x zuko #zumai #kei lo #atla fanfic

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