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Can I get 15. "eyes open. keep looking." and 16. ^ and in the mirror--it's their large hand splayed across your abdomen, another wrapped around your perking nip. as they thrust into you, hard, slow, deep. their teeth sinking into ur neck.
with Joe and Angel, I just know they're nastyyy🤪
Listened to ‘Maybe’ by Teyana Taylor while writing this so everyone say thank you Teyana for the inspo


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#15. "eyes open. keep looking." & #16. and in the mirror--it's their large hand splayed across your abdomen, another wrapped around your perking nip. as they thrust into you, hard, slow, deep. their teeth sinking into ur neck.
Joe Burrow x Angel
• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It was supposed to be a chill weekend.
With baby Zariyah gone to spend two blissful days with Joe’s parents—Robin and Jimmy, who were beyond thrilled to take over spoiling duties—the Burrow household had finally fallen into rare, golden silence. No bottles to warm, no 3 a.m. wake-up cries, no schedules to juggle. Just peace. Glorious peace.
Joe had made plans, quiet ones. Sleep in. Watch a little film. Maybe grill something. Wrap Angel in a blanket and cuddle until neither of them knew what day it was. It was supposed to be recovery—for both of them.
But by noon, Joe was starting to realize something: Angel had no intention of letting him enjoy any of it.
From the moment she rolled over that morning, her attitude had been locked in. Petty. Sharp. The kind of bratty that didn’t come from actual frustration—it came from intent.
“You breathing loud again,” she muttered from her side of the bed, voice low and gravelly with sleep, but lined with attitude like sharp eyeliner.
Joe blinked, still half-asleep. “What?”
“I said you breathing loud. Sound like a busted radiator.”
He frowned, turning his head toward her on the pillow. “I was asleep.”
“Exactly.” She yanked the blanket tighter around her like he’d committed some great offense simply by existing.
Joe stared at the ceiling for a long beat. Okay…
He let it slide. For now.
The day went on like that. Little digs. Passive-aggressive comments with a smile. Petty nonsense that she served up like appetizers at a dinner party. At first, Joe let it slide. He knew Angel. Knew when she got this way it was usually about something deeper—or nothing at all. But this time, there was no mystery. No hidden frustration. She was just… acting up.
On purpose.
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Later, he padded into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, hoping coffee might at least smooth things over.
Angel was already there. Perched on the counter in one of his old LSU hoodies—bare-legged, smug, and scrolling her phone like she was too cute to be guilty. She sipped from her mug without looking up.
“Morning,” Joe offered.
She made a noncommittal sound in response. Something between a hum and a hmmph.
He tried again. “I made coffee. Want some of mine?”
She finally looked up, blinking slow. “Did you put that dusty almond milk in it?”
“No. I used the new one.”
She took a sip of her own drink, then wrinkled her nose dramatically. “Well, mine still nasty. Probably your fault. You opened the fridge too long yesterday.”
Joe squinted. “What does that even mean?”
“Means now everything taste like fridge air and disappointment.” She hopped down, walked past him, and added, just loud enough, “Don’t nobody ask you to help and you still messing stuff up.”
Joe turned, confused, but she was already halfway back to the living room.
That was round one.
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An hour later, Joe tried to lose himself in film. He pulled up Week 5’s offensive breakdown and plugged in his AirPods. Angel was curled up on the couch beside him, allegedly watching TV—but what she was really doing was finding ways to drive him to the brink of madness without ever raising her voice.
First, she stole the throw blanket from his lap with no explanation.
Then, she took the last two slices of the cinnamon toast she knew he had been saving.
And finally, when he got up to go switch the laundry over, he came back to find the remote gone.
“Angel.”
She didn’t look up from her phone. “Hmm?”
“Where’s the remote?”
“Oh.” She paused for a beat, chewing her nail. “I think I dropped it behind the couch.”
Joe gave her a look. “You think?”
“Or maybe I put it in the laundry basket with the whites. Thought it was a sock.”
He stared at her, deadpan. “You put the remote control in the laundry?”
She shrugged with the exact amount of indifference that could drive a man to madness. “Don’t act like you use it. You just watch the same plays over and over. Ball. Throw. Catch. Repeat.”
He took a slow breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
Angel turned her head and finally gave him her full attention. That familiar gleam was in her eyes—trouble, dressed up as flirtation. “I do. Question is… do you?”
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Later that morning, Joe tried to get a jump on laundry while Angel scrolled through her phone on the couch, pretending not to watch him.
He held up one of his favorite hoodies—the gray Bengals one with the frayed cuffs.
“Why is this in the bottom of the hamper?”
Angel barely glanced over. “Zariyah spit up on it. I used it to wipe the floor.”
Joe looked at her like she’d just confessed to a crime. “You used this as a mop?”
“It was right there,” she said with a shrug. “Quick reflexes. You should be proud.”
“That hoodie is from my rookie year.”
“And? You got a whole closet of free gear. You’ll live.”
Joe closed his eyes and took a slow breath. She’s trying to get under your skin, he reminded himself. Don’t let her win.
He tossed the hoodie back into the hamper and walked away.
Angel smirked.
Round one: her.
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By early afternoon, Joe was back on the couch, trying to reset the day. He figured if he could just carve out an hour—maybe two—to review some film, he could salvage some peace. Angel had drifted into her own little world, tucked into the corner of the sectional with snacks and a blanket, one leg draped over the armrest like she owned the place. Which, in many ways, she did.
Joe slipped on his noise-canceling headphones, pulled up game tape from Week 5 on his iPad, and settled in. All he needed was silence. Just enough to dissect a few coverages, double-check a couple reads.
But it didn’t take long for Angel’s show—some chaotic reality series where every scene sounded like a wine-fueled argument— to start bleeding through the headphones.
He paused the video with a sigh, pulling one earbud off. “Babe,” he said, turning toward her, “can you turn that down just a little?”
Angel didn’t even glance at the remote. “You got headphones in.”
“They’re noise-canceling,” he said, with measured patience, “not chaos-canceling.”
Angel slowly turned her head, one brow raised with deliberate sass. “You mad because my show got drama or because yours is boring?”
Joe blinked. “I’m mad because I can’t hear my tight end’s route because some girl named Shayla is screaming about her eyelash business.”
She scoffed, unapologetic. “Well, maybe Shayla got bills to pay. Unlike some people, she can’t afford to sit around analyzing football all day.”
Joe’s jaw ticked. “I don’t sit around, Angel. This is my job.”
Angel fluffed her pillow, adjusting it behind her like she was settling in for a long, loud binge. “Mmm. And this is my couch. I pay rent in sass and vibes.”
Joe dropped his head back with an exasperated groan. “I’m not asking you to go mute. Just lower the volume like… two notches.”
She turned back to the screen and, with all the exaggerated flair in the world, hit the volume up instead. The surround sound blared a high-pitched “YOU AIN’T GON’ DISRESPECT ME IN MY HOUSE” from Shayla, just to hammer it in.
“Seriously?” he said, sitting up straighter.
“Seriously,” she echoed, cool and unbothered. “But feel free to go in the guest room if it’s that serious.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
Angel finally glanced over again. Her expression was smug, unbothered, her whole body language reading what are you gonna do about it?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, voice saccharine. “I’m just minding my business. Watching my stories.”
Joe stared at her, the tension starting to settle into his shoulders. Not angry—but definitely annoyed. She knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t just being difficult. She was playing with him. Poking the bear. Testing how far she could go before he snapped.
Round two?
Definitely hers again.
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A few minutes passed. Joe didn’t bother restarting the film. He knew there was no point. Angel had kicked her feet up now, her legs stretched out across the cushions like a queen on her throne. She reached into the bag of Hot Cheetos next to her, crunching obnoxiously as she side-eyed him through her lashes.
“Hey,” she said, casual as ever.
“What?” he muttered.
“You left the fridge open earlier. Everything’s warm now. Might wanna double-check your almond milk before you start blaming me again.”
Joe turned his head slowly. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m adorable,” she corrected.
“You’re a menace.”
Angel smirked, licking red dust from her fingers. “And yet… you still married me.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped himself, catching the way her lips curled at the corners—the faintest glint of challenge in her eyes. She was baiting him. Hard. And the worst part? She was enjoying every second of it.
That realization settled in his chest like a match on dry leaves.
She wanted a reaction.
And if she kept going like this… she was going to get one.
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By dinnertime, Joe was running on fumes.
The kind of mental exhaustion that didn’t come from workouts or playbooks, but from one beautiful, petty little storm of a woman who had clearly made it her mission to test every ounce of his restraint.
He’d stayed calm longer than he thought possible. All day, Angel had poked, pushed, and prodded. The smirks. The side-eyes. The backhanded compliments. And the worst part? She did it all with that same effortless confidence, like she was swatting flies for sport.
He walked into the kitchen with the vague hope that a quiet meal might buy him a few minutes of peace. Maybe food would reset the mood. Ground them both.
But the second he opened the fridge, that idea died.
There, stacked neatly on the top shelf, were three sushi containers. His favorites, even. Tuna, shrimp tempura, avocado rolls. Perfectly chilled. Perfectly untouched.
But there were only three containers—and none of them were for him.
“You ordered food?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Mmhmm.” Angel didn’t even look up from her phone. She was sitting at the table, one leg crossed over the other, typing away like she hadn’t just committed the ultimate disrespect.
Joe shut the fridge door slowly, deliberately. “And didn’t get me anything?”
“You were busy,” she replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Didn’t want to interrupt your little quarterback study session.”
Joe turned, leveling a look at her. “I’ve been home. All. Day.”
She glanced up then, smile faint and maddeningly fake. “I didn’t think you’d want sushi. You’re always talking about mercury levels. Brain health. All that boring stuff.”
He walked over to the table, jaw tight, frustration starting to simmer just beneath his carefully built surface. He didn’t speak right away—just stared at her, like he was trying to read between the lines of her expression.
Angel finally set her phone down, folded her arms, and met his gaze head-on.
“You’ve been doing this on purpose,” he said.
She tilted her head, mock-innocent. “Doing what?”
“Acting like a brat. All day. You’ve been trying to piss me off.”
Angel leaned back in her chair slowly, the smugness in her expression blooming like a satisfied cat. “Maybe I have,” she said. “What you gonna do about it?”
Joe stepped in, closing some of the space between them, shoulders squaring. “Why?”
She stood up too—deliberate, calm. Not backing down, not flinching. She moved toward him like a challenge incarnate, the edge of her voice dropping into something softer, silkier, yet still taunting.
“Because,” she said, stopping just inches from him, “you’ve been walking around here all peaceful and patient. Quiet. Like you don’t see me. Like I’m just background noise.”
Joe blinked. “You think I don’t see you?”
“I know you do.” Her voice dipped lower now. “But you’ve been treating me like I’m some tired wife with spit-up on her shirt and oatmeal in her hair. I wanted to remind you I’m still me. I still need attention.”
“This was your way of asking for attention?” he asked, voice low, incredulous.
Angel smiled then—but it wasn’t sweet. It was the kind of smile that came with danger. Daring. A trap that she knew he would step into. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Joe stared at her, jaw clenching harder. “You really wanna test me right now?”
Angel lifted her chin, gaze steady, unblinking. “I’ve been testing you all day, baby. The real question is—how long you gonna let me?”
That was it.
That was the moment the tension snapped like a stretched rubber band. Joe moved before he had time to think it through. One hand gripped her waist, yanking her close. The other slid up the back of her neck, into the thick curls she’d piled into a loose bun that was now slipping free.
His voice dropped, rough and warning. “You sure you’re ready for what you’ve been begging for?”
Her breath hitched—but there was no fear in her face. Just desire. Hunger. Victory. She’d poked the bear until it finally turned—and she loved that it was her who brought it out.
“I’ve been ready, Joseph,” she whispered, voice velvet. “You’re the one who's been dragging your feet.”
His eyes darkened. “Say one more slick thing.”
Angel’s grin widened, slow and triumphant. “Make me.”
And that was all he needed.
Joe didn’t just respond—he reacted. He pulled her flush against him, locking her in place with the kind of intensity he’d been holding back all day. Every little comment, every eye-roll, every subtle jab had been leading to this. She’d wanted the fire behind the calm. The man behind the quarterback.
And now she had him.
Fully.
Completely.
Undeniably.
Angel had pushed every button he had. Poked every nerve. And now, as she found herself exactly where she wanted to be—held in place, breath short, eyes wide with anticipation—she knew one thing for certain.
She was finally being put back in her place.
And she was loving every second of it.
Joe moved his hand from the nape of her neck to the front of her throat—not gripping, not squeezing, just placing it there. Wrapping around it. Not enough to even slightly cut off her air supply, but enough to make it clear that he could.
It was enough to send a wave of heat straight to her core.
“You wanna play this game, babygirl?” he murmured, eyes boring into hers. “You think you can take it?”
“I know I can,” she replied, voice steady despite the tremble in her legs. She couldn’t help but smirk. “In fact, I’m gonna win it.”
That earned a snort from Joe, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Big words for someone who can’t even last five minutes without running that pretty little mouth of hers.”
Angel felt the challenge spark between them, hot and immediate. “Then why don’t you shut me up?” she said, voice dropping to a taunt. “If you can.”
Something feral lit in Joe’s eyes, and before Angel could take another breath, she was being turned around, her back flush against his chest. She could feel his erection pressing against her lower back, hard and thick through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. His hand stayed at her throat, keeping her in place, while the other gripped her hip, holding her close.
“Is this what you wanted?” Joe growled, his breath hot against her ear. “You wanted me to lose control, didn’t you? You wanted me to snap.”
Angel licked her lips, her heart pounding. “Maybe I did,” she breathed. “Maybe I wanted to see the real Joe. Not the controlled quarterback, not the calm, composed husband. I wanted the man underneath it all.”
She could feel his grip tighten on her hip, his fingers digging into her skin. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he warned. “The man underneath it all? He’s not always pretty. He’s got rough edges, dirty thoughts, and a hunger that never quite goes away.”
Angel shivered, a thrill running down her spine. “Then show me,” she whispered. “Show me all of it.”
Joe let out a low growl, his hand moving from her hip to the front of her thighs, pushing them apart. “Spread your legs,” he ordered, and Angel complied without hesitation, her breath coming faster now.
His hand slid up, fingers tracing along the seam of her leggings, finding the wet spot between her legs. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Already soaked for me, aren’t you? So ready to be fucked.”
Angel couldn’t speak, her voice caught in her throat. All she could do was nod, her hips moving involuntarily against his hand.
Joe chuckled, the sound low and dark. “But you don’t get to come that easy, babygirl. Not this time. This time, you’re gonna work for it.”
Angel felt a surge of heat at his words, but she couldn’t help but push a little more. “Work for it?” she repeated, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I thought you were going to shut me up, not make me work.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. “That’s it,” he growled. In one swift motion, he picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. Angel let out a surprised squeal, her legs kicking instinctively.
“Joe! What the hell—”
But he ignored her protests, carrying her out of the dining room and down the hall to their bedroom. Angel’s heart raced, her mind buzzing with anticipation and excitement. She’d pushed him, and now he was pushing back.
Hard.
Joe kicked the bedroom door open, then slammed it shut behind him. He set Angel down on her feet, then sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at her with dark, hungry eyes.
“Strip,” he said, his voice low, not playing around.
Angel felt a shiver run down her spine, but she didn’t hesitate. She reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it over her head. Joe’s eyes followed her every move, drinking in the sight of her exposed skin.
“Faster,” he ordered, his voice rough.
Angel bit her lip, her hands moving to the waistband of her leggings. She hooked her thumbs underneath and began to push them down, slowly revealing her panties. Joe’s eyes locked onto the sight, his jaw clenching.
“Keep going,” he said, his voice strained.
Angel stepped out of her leggings, then reached back to unclasp her bra. She let it fall to the floor, her breasts bouncing free. Joe’s gaze was fixed on them, his eyes dark with desire.
“Panties too,” he said, his voice husky.
Angel complied, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood before him completely naked, her heart pounding, her body trembling with anticipation.
Joe didn’t move for a long moment, just looked at her, his eyes roaming over every inch of her exposed skin. Angel felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on. She’d never seen Joe look at her like this before, with such raw, unfiltered desire.
“Come here,” he finally said, his voice low.
Angel took a step forward, her legs trembling. Joe reached out, gripping her hips and pulling her closer. He looked up at her, his eyes locked on hers.
“You wanted to know the real me?” he said, his voice dark. “This is it. This is the man you married. Now bend over my knee.”
Angel felt a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of fear. She knew what Joe had in mind, and while part of her was nervous, another part of her—the part that had been poking and prodding all day—was eager to see where this would go.
She bent over Joe’s knee, her ass up in the air, her face burning. Joe’s hand rubbed over her buttocks, the touch firm but gentle.
“You ready, babygirl?” he asked, his voice low.
“Ready for what?” Angel shot back, her sass coming through even in her vulnerable position.
Joe’s hand stilled, then he brought it down hard on her ass. Angel let out a yelp, her body jerking at the sudden impact.
“What was that?” Joe asked, his voice firm.
Angel bit her lip, trying to catch her breath. “I’m ready,” she said, her voice muffled.
Joe’s hand rubbed over the spot he’d just spanked, the touch soothing. “Good girl,” he murmured. Then, without warning, he brought his hand down again, this time on her other cheek.
Angel let out a moan, her hips moving instinctively. Joe spanked her again, and again, each blow landing in a different spot. Angel’s ass began to burn, the pain mixing with pleasure.
“You gonna keep being a brat?” Joe asked, his hand pausing to rub over her heated skin.
Angel nodded, her eyes squeezing shut. “Yes,” she whispered.
Joe let out a low laugh. “We’ll see about that,” he said. And then he started again, his hand coming down hard and fast, alternating between her cheeks.
Angel’s moans filled the room, her body jerking with each impact. The pain was intense, but so was the pleasure. She could feel her pussy throbbing, wetness dripping down her thighs.
After what felt like an eternity, Joe stopped. Angel lay over his knee, panting, her ass on fire.
“How many was that?” Joe asked, his hand rubbing over her sore skin.
Angel tried to think, but her mind was fuzzy. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted.
Joe let out a sigh. “Then I guess we’ll have to start over,” he said.
Angel groaned, but before she could protest, Joe started again. This time, he made her count out loud.
“One,” she said after the first spank. “Two,” after the second. She made it all the way to eight before losing count again.
Joe sighed again. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”
Angel shook her head, her face burning with embarrassment.
“Well, we can’t have that,” Joe said. “So for every time you lose count, you get five more.”
Angel groaned again, but didn’t protest. She knew she’d asked for this, and a part of her wanted it—wanted to be pushed, wanted to feel the sting of Joe’s hand on her ass.
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Joe made her start over three more times before he finally stopped. By then, Angel’s ass was bright red, the skin hot to the touch. She lay over his knee, breathing hard, her body trembling.
Joe’s hand moved over her sore flesh, then dipped between her legs. Angel let out a gasp as his fingers traced over her slit, feeling her wetness.
“You’re soaked,” Joe murmured, his fingers teasing her entrance. “So wet for me, even after all that.”
“You want to come, babygirl?” Joe asked, his fingers continuing their torment. He circled her clit with one fingertip, feather-light. Angel jerked at the touch, a small sound escaping her.
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Please, I need it.”
He chuckled, the sound low and dark. “I know what you need. But do you know what I need?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, dipping two fingers inside her again. Angel’s back arched, a whimper escaping her lips.
“You need to admit it,” Joe continued, his fingers moving just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy. “Tell me what you are.”
Angel frowned, confusion cutting through the haze of pleasure. “What I am? What are you—”
“You know what I’m talking about,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “Tell me why you’ve been acting out all day.”
Angel bit her lip, trying to focus through the pleasure. “Because I… I wanted your attention?” It came out like a question, uncertain.
Joe shook his head, fingers stilling. “No, that’s not it. Try again.”
She squirmed under him, trying to get him to move his fingers. “I was bored?”
Another shake of his head. “Wrong again.”
“Then tell me!” Angel snapped, frustration mounting.
Joe leaned down, his face inches from hers. “You’re a brat, Angel. You love pushing my buttons because you want me to put you in your place. You want me to remind you who’s in charge. Admit it.”
Angel glared up at him, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and desire. “Fuck you, Joseph.”
But even as she said it, she knew he was right. She had wanted to push him. She’d craved this—his intensity, his dominance. She’d missed it, truth be told. With the baby, they hadn’t had much time for anything like this. And she’d been getting a little… restless.
Joe’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t get angry like she expected. Instead, he just sighed, resigned. “Alright, Angel. If that’s how you want to play it…” He pulled his fingers out of her, ignoring her whimper of protest.
“Joe, wait—” but she didn’t get to finish. In one smooth move, he threw her to land in the middle of their bed, flipped over on her back, pulling her to the edge. Before she could even process the move, he’d knelt on the floor.
He found his home between her thighs, and he made sure she knew it. Every lick, every suck, every tease was deliberate. It was a promise of what was to come—and a punishment for what she’d put him through. Angel had wanted a reaction? She had it. And more was yet to come.
Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him grunt against her pussy. The sound vibrated through her, drawing a guttural moan from her throat. He licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit, slow, savoring the taste of her. The way she shuddered, the way her breath caught—it was all fuel to the fire he’d been stoking all day.
Angel gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. Joe’s hands clamped down on them, holding her still with a grip that was anything but gentle. She tried to move, to grind against his mouth, but he was immovable. His control was absolute—and she hated how much it turned her on.
“Joe, please—” she broke off with a sharp cry as he sucked her clit between his lips, tongue flicking mercilessly. Her thighs trembled around his head, the muscles taut with the effort of staying still.
He pulled away, a string of spit still connecting his lips to her pussy. “Please, what? Tell me exactly what you want, Angel.” His voice was a dark rumble, eyes glinting with a mixture of desire and something far more dangerous.
Angel’s chest heaved, trying to catch her breath. “I want—I need—” She couldn’t find the words, her mind a haze of pleasure and need. But she didn’t have to find them. Because Joe knew. He always knew.
And with that, he leaned down and licked a long, hot stripe from her entrance to her clit. Angel cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Joe didn’t stop there. He continued to lick and suck her, his tongue delving inside her and then moving up to circle her clit. Angel writhed beneath him, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth.
“Joe,” she cried. “Oh god, Joe. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Joe hummed against her, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through her body. He continued to eat her out, his tongue and lips working her into a frenzy.
Angel was close, so close. She could feel her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly. She was almost there, just a little more…
But then Joe pulled away. Angel cried out in frustration, her hips chasing his mouth. But Joe held her down, his grip firm on her thighs.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice husky. “You don’t get to come yet, babygirl. You have to wait until I say so.”
Angel whined, her entire body shaking with need. “Please, Daddy,” she begged. “I need to come. Please let me come.”
Joe smirked, his thumb brushing over her clit. “Not yet, we have all night. And I plan to take my time with you,” he repeated. “But soon. I promise.”
Without another word, he dove back in. This time, there was nothing teasing about it. It was all consuming, relentless. His tongue worked her clit in tight, focused circles while his fingers pressed inside her, curling just so. Angel arched off the bed, back bowed in a perfect arc of pleasure.
“Yes, yes, yes—” she chanted, hips moving of their own accord now. Joe let her, one hand releasing her hip to grip her thigh instead, spreading her wider. He sucked her clit harder, fingers thrusting in time with his tongue.
She was close. So close. She could feel it building, that coiling tension in her lower belly, the sparks of pleasure that started at her core and spread out to her fingertips. She was almost there—
Joe stopped. Pulled back completely, leaving her empty and gasping. His fingers slipped out of her with a wet sound that made her face burn with embarrassment and need.
She propped herself up on her elbows, glaring at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious.” He leaned in, crowding her space until she was flat on her back again. His weight pressed her into the mattress, his erection hard against her hip. “You’ve been a little brat all day, Angel. Pushing my buttons, testing my patience.” He nipped her lower lip, none too gently. “Now it’s time to take your punishment.”
Angel’s breath hitched, a thrill of excitement mixed with trepidation racing through her. She knew that tone, that look in his eyes. He wasn’t joking. And as much as she wanted to keep pushing, to see how far she could go… part of her wanted this. Wanted to give in, to let him take control.
Because when Joe took control, it was never just about him. It was about her pleasure, her needs, her desires. It was about pushing her boundaries and bringing her to heights she hadn’t known existed. It was about trust and vulnerability and connection on a level that transcended the physical.
And right now, she wanted that connection more than she wanted to keep fighting.
She whined in frustration, her hips bucking against his hand. “Please touch me,” she begged. “Please make me come.”
Joe’s chuckle was dark and sinful. “You’ll come when I’m good and ready for you to come,” he said. “Now be a good girl and take what I give you.”
Joe didn’t let her rest for long. His hand slipped between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. Angel let out a moan, her head falling back.
Angel wanted to argue, wanted to push back, but the way Joe’s fingers were moving between her legs made it impossible for her to think straight. She could feel her orgasm building, could feel it just out of reach, and she was desperate for it.
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ
Joe kept her on edge for what felt like hours, his fingers teasing her, bringing her close to the edge, only to pull back every time. His mouth found her, tasting her, devouring her, but always stopping just before she could tip over into climax. He played her body like an instrument, knowing exactly which buttons to press, which strings to pull.
He looked up at her, lips glistening, eyes dark with lust and a hint of amusement. “What’s wrong, baby? Cat got your tongue?”
Angel groaned, frustration and desire warring inside her. “Why did you stop?”
Joe sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because you were about to cum. And you don’t get to cum until I say so.” His voice was calm, almost conversational. But there was an undercurrent of steel in it that made Angel shiver.
He started again, this time with fingers first. Two, thrusting deep, while his mouth found her clit. Angel’s head fell back, a low moan escaping her. He was relentless, working her up again with practiced ease. She was sensitive now, her nerves alight with the aftershocks of her interrupted orgasm.
This time, when she started to get close, she felt it sooner. The tension built faster, the pleasure sharper. Joe noticed it too. He could read her body like a book, every twitch, every tremor. And when she was on the edge, he pulled back again.
Angel whimpered, hands reaching for him. “Joe, please—I need it. I need to cum.”
He caught her wrists, pinning them beside her head. “You need to learn your place. You think you can push me around all day and then just get your reward? That’s not how this works.”
His hips settled between hers, the hard length of his erection pressed against her thigh. Angel tried to tilt her hips, to get that friction where she needed it most. But Joe held her still, her wrists immovable in his grip.
Angel bit her lip. She wanted to come so badly, but a part of her didn’t want to give in. “I… I…”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter, babygirl? Too fucked out to speak? What happened to all that back talk earlier?”
Angel glared at him. “I don’t want to admit it.”
Joe shrugged. “Then you don’t get to come.”
Angel let out a frustrated growl. “That’s not fair,” she said, stamping her foot.
Joe chuckled. “Life’s not fair,” he said. “But if you’re a good girl and admit what you are, I might let you come on my cock.”
Angel’s eyes widened. The thought of taking Joe’s thick length after all this foreplay was too tempting to resist. Slowly, she nodded.
“I’m a brat,” she said, her voice soft.
Joe smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Good girl,” he praised. Then he stood up, lifting Angel onto her feet. He kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth.
When he pulled back, Angel was breathless. “Now,” Joe said, his voice low. He began to strip off his clothes, his eyes never leaving Angel’s. Once he was naked, he laid back on the bed, his back against the headboard.
“Come prove to me you’re sorry,” he said, his cock hard and ready.
Angel didn’t hesitate. She crawled up the bed, straddling Joe’s hips. She reached between them, gripping his length and lining him up with her entrance. But before she could sink down onto him, Joe gripped her hips, stopping her.
“Only good girls get to look at my face,” he said, his eyes dark. “Turn around and watch yourself in the mirror.”
Angel bit her lip but complied, turning her back to Joe. He helped her, placing his hands on her hips and lifting her, then turning her so she faced the mirror that hung on the wall across from the bed.
Angel’s breath caught as she caught sight of herself—naked, legs spread, Joe’s thick cock nestled between her thighs. Joe’s hands gripped her hips, holding her in place.
“Bend forward,” he ordered.
Angel did as she was told, bending at the waist. Joe’s cock slid between her legs, the head catching on her entrance.
“Now ride me like you mean it,” Joe said, his voice rough. “Show me how sorry you are for being a brat all day.”
Angel didn’t need to be told twice. She slid down onto Joe’s cock, taking him to the hilt. The stretch burned, but it was a good kind of pain. She began to move, lifting herself up and sliding back down.
Joe let out a groan, his hands gripping her hips tighter. “That’s it, babygirl,” he praised. “Just like that. Show me what a good wife you can be.”
Angel rode him hard, her hips slapping against his. She could see herself in the mirror, her tits bouncing, her face flushed with pleasure. Behind her, Joe was moaning, his hips meeting her thrust for thrust. Suddenly, his hand came down on her ass, the slap ringing out in the room.
Angel yelped but didn’t stop moving. Instead, she rode him faster, her pussy clenching around his cock. Joe spanked her again and again, the pain mixing with the pleasure.
“Talked so much shit,” Joe growled in her ear, “now look at you. Taking my cock like a good little slut. This all you needed, baby? Your husband to fuck the brattiness out of you?”
“Yes,” Angel breathed. She was close, so close. She could feel her orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly.
Joe’s hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her up until she was laying back against his chest. His other hand slid around to her front, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed her in fast circles as he fucked up into her, deep and slow.
Angel could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. The pleasure was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once. “Joe,” she begged. “Please, I need to come.”
“You need to come?” Joe repeated, his voice mocking. “Well, that’s too bad. I don’t think you deserve it.”
Angel let out a sob, her hips moving faster. “Please,” she begged again. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be the best wife, the best girl. Just please let me come.”
Joe reached his other hand up, wrapping it around her throat. He slowed his thrusts, fucking into her with long, deep strokes. “Hmmm, are you done being a brat?” he asked.
Angel nodded frantically, her eyes wide. “Yes,” she said, her voice choked. “I’m done, I promise. Please, Joe. Please let me come.”
Joe chuckled, the sound dark. “Such a good girl now, aren’t you?” he murmured. “Eyes open. Keep looking.”
Angel did as she was told, her eyes opening to look at her reflection in the mirror. She saw the large hand splayed across her lower abdomen, the other wrapped around her throat. She saw Joe’s broad chest behind her, his muscles rippling as he moved. She saw his thick cock, buried deep inside her pussy.
And she saw his eyes, dark and intense, locked on hers in the mirror.
“Good girl,” Joe praised, his hips never stopping. “Keep those eyes open. Keep watching yourself get fucked. Watch yourself come undone on my cock.”
Angel couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She was mesmerized by the sight of herself, by the pleasure coursing through her body. Joe’s hand on her throat tightened slightly, and his fingers on her clit moved faster. His teeth sank into her neck, biting down on the sensitive skin.
“Come for me, babygirl. Show me how much you love your punishment.”
Angel couldn’t hold back anymore. She came hard, her eyes rolling back in her head, her scream echoing off the walls. She squirted all over Joe’s cock, her juices flowing out of her and down his balls.
Joe groaned at the feel of her coming, his fingers never stopping on her clit. He kept rubbing her, drawing out her orgasm until she was a shaking, sobbing mess in his arms. Then, after a few more thrusts, he came too, his seed shooting deep inside her.
Angel collapsed against him, her body spent. Joe wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard. Slowly, Joe released his hold on her throat, his fingers gently massaging the skin. He pressed a kiss to her neck, then her shoulder.
“Good girl. There’s the woman I married,” he murmured again.
Angel smiled, her body lax against his. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet.
Joe chuckled. “For what? Fucking you into next week?”
Angel laughed. “No, for putting me in my place.”
Joe pulled out of her, then turned her in his arms. He looked down at her, his eyes softening. “You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said. “Brattiness and all.”
Then Joe gently lifted her off his cock and laid her down on the bed beside him.
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. “You okay, baby?” he asked, his thumb rubbing over her cheek.
Angel nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I’m perfect,” she said, her voice filled with satisfaction.
Joe chuckled. “Good,” he said. Then, after a moment, “You’re still a brat, though.”
Angel laughed, slapping his chest lightly. “Shut up.”
Joe just grinned, kissing the top of her head. “I love you, baby,” he said softly.
Angel looked up at him, her eyes shining. “I love you too.”
As they laid there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, Angel knew that she’d gotten exactly what she needed. She’d needed Joe to put her back in her place, to remind her who was in charge. And he’d done just that.
But more than that, she’d needed to be reminded that no matter what, Joe would always love her. That he would always be there for her, even when she was being difficult. That their love was strong enough to withstand anything, even a bratty wife.
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.���ໄଓ࿚ପଓ
Just as Angel’s eyes began to flutter shut, the soft haze of sleep tugging at her, she felt herself being lifted gently off the bed. Joe’s strong arms wrapped around her, his chest warm against her cheek as he cradled her with practiced ease. She murmured something unintelligible, half-protest, half-contentment, but he only kissed the top of her head and kept walking.
The en-suite bathroom was softly lit, the overhead light dimmed to a golden glow that made the marble countertops gleam. Steam curled up from the large soaking tub, where fragrant bubbles danced on the surface of the water. Lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
Joe knelt beside the tub and slowly lowered her into the water, careful to ease her in rather than startle her with the heat. Angel let out a long, luxurious sigh as the warmth seeped into her muscles, dissolving the aches of the day. Her head fell back against the edge of the tub, her curls brushing the porcelain.
“Hold still,” Joe said gently, grabbing a silk scrunchie from the counter. He gathered her curls with care, tying them up into a loose bun to keep them from the water. “There we go. Perfect.”
She watched him move around the bathroom, his steps quiet but purposeful. When he turned toward the door presumably to go change the sheets on their bed, she made a small noise of protest, eyes fluttering open again.
Joe paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “Shhh,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I’ll be right back, baby. Just gonna get the bed ready.”
She let him go, the sound of his footsteps fading. In the silence, the soft pop of bubbles breaking on the surface of the water became almost meditative. The warmth, the scent, the quiet—she could’ve stayed there forever.
But only a few minutes passed before he was back, stepping carefully into the room with two tall glasses of ice water balanced in one hand and his phone in the other.
“Hydration, my love,” he said, placing the glasses on the ledge within reach. Then, with a contented groan, he climbed into the tub behind her, water lapping up the sides as his weight settled in.
Angel shifted slightly, nestling herself between his thighs, her back resting against his chest. Joe’s arms came around her, one hand finding hers under the water, fingers intertwining.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then nuzzled into the curve of her neck. “Music?”
“Anything,” she murmured, her voice nearly a whisper.
Joe chuckled against her skin, the vibration of it soothing. “Dangerous thing to say to a man with questionable taste.”
“You’re lucky I’m too relaxed to argue,” she said, smiling sleepily.
He opened his music app and started scrolling. “Let’s see… Jazz? R&B? Or are you in one of those movie-soundtrack-mood kind of nights?”
“Surprise me.”
He started reading off a few titles, his voice deep and warm, the cadence of it washing over her. By the time he settled on a mellow playlist and set the phone aside, her eyelids were already growing heavy again.
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ
Minutes passed—or maybe longer—and eventually Joe reached in front her and pulled the plug. The water gurgled and swirled, draining away in a slow spiral. Angel shivered as the steam dissipated and the cool air of the bathroom returned.
Without a word, Joe stood and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel before returning to help her up. He grabbed a warm towel from the towel warmer and wrapped it snugly around her, patting her skin dry with gentle hands. “You good?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers.
She nodded, still wordless, letting him take care of her.
He lifted her again, as easily as if she weighed nothing at all, and carried her back to the bedroom where the bed now lay freshly made, the sheets crisp and cool. He laid her down carefully, smoothing a hand over her back before returning to the bathroom to hang the towels.
When he came back, he had the ointment in hand. Angel was already on her stomach, her arms tucked under her pillow. He sat beside her, uncapping the bottle, and squeezed a generous amount into his palm. The smell of menthol mixed with something floral rose into the air. He rubbed a generous amount onto her ass, the coolness of the ointment soothing the heat there.
She winced at first as he began to rub it in, but then her body gradually relaxed, melting beneath his hands.
“Mmm… thank you,” she mumbled into the pillow.
He smiled and didn’t reply, just continued the slow, soothing motion of his hands until every trace of tension was gone. When he was done, he wiped his hands off and tossed the towel into the hamper with practiced ease.
Without missing a beat, Joe grabbed one of his oversized T-shirts—soft and worn, smelling like him—and helped Angel into it. Then, from the nightstand drawer, he pulled out her satin bonnet.
She looked up at him with a grateful smile as he gently slid it over her curls. “You know I hate waking up looking like a madwoman,” she murmured.
“Which is why you never do,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
With that, he shed his towel and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. Then he climbed into bed, pulling the comforter over them both and wrapping his arms around her.
Angel curled into his chest, her cheek resting over his heart. The steady thump of it was her favorite lullaby.
“Love you,” she whispered.
“I love you more,” Joe replied, kissing the crown of her head.
Sleep claimed her swiftly, the weight of his arms and the beat of his heart anchoring her in a safety she never took for granted.
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨.¸¸.ପໄଓ࿚ପଓ
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the car windows as they cruised down the highway, soft music playing low from the speakers. Angel’s phone buzzed in her lap. She picked it up, swiping the screen, and smiled instantly.
Joe glanced over from the driver’s seat. “What’s got you grinning like that?”
She turned the phone toward him. A picture filled the screen—Zariyah, their six-month-old daughter, laying on her little baby gym. She wasn’t playing with the hanging toys like usual. Instead, she had her head turned to the side, her eyes closed in serene contentment, a smile tugging at her lips as she sucked her thumb.
Joe chuckled, his eyes flicking from the road to the image and back. “Looks like our girl’s a little brat… just like her mama.”
Angel gasped in mock offense, swatting his arm. “She’s a baby, Joseph! Don’t even start.”
“She is your daughter though,” he teased, clearly trying to hide his grin now.
“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes—but her cheeks were flushed with affection.
Joe reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers together with a gentle squeeze. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but deeply felt.
Angel looked at him, her heart full. “I love you too.”
And in that moment—sunlight on their faces, laughter in their voices, and love thick in the air—everything felt exactly as it should be.
#honeydipped1k#thed.i.l.fchroniclesasks#thed.i.l.fchronicles#x black fem reader#x black!fem!reader#x black!reader#x black reader#x reader#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow x black!reader#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow smut#joey b#bengals#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow#joe burrow lsu#joey burrow#joe shiesty#joe cool#joe burrow au#joe burrow series#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fluff#jb9#nfl imagine#joeburrow
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sit down with jeong jaehyun
hello! so this is a new format of story I wanted to do, hope you like it🥺 i do have a few works on the way but I've been so busy with work again and this coming months i feel like so I apologize in advance for the slow uploads.
If you want me to make more of this with the other members just let me know😅 or you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
The scene starts with two vacant chairs in front of the camera. Then two people walk in, sitting right next to each other.
"Okay, welcome. Can you introduce yourselves please" someone from behind the camera says
Your partner gestures for you to go first, "Hi I'm Jeong Y/N, 25"
"Hello, I'm Jeong Jaehyun, 26"
:Your last names are both Jeong?
The two of you chuckle, not the first time hearing this question "Mhm, but we're not related in any way. Don't worry" Jaehyun says
: So what are you to each other?
"I'm his girlfriend" you smile, so does Jaehyun.
"I'm her boyfriend"
: How long have the two of you been together?
"5 years"
"7 years"
The two of you answer differently, making you turn to look at each other. "That doesn't count" you tell him but Jaehyun shakes his head
"It does, it's been 7 years baby" he says
"We were on a break" you remind him, he gives you the stare so you turn to look at the camera again to change your answer
"We've been together for 7 years"
The person behind the camera chuckles
: You said you were on a break, what happened then?
"We kind of broke up for over a year, life happened and things got hectic. We decided mutually to end it" you explained
: How did the two of you got back together?
This time Jaehyun answers, recalling the memory
"We have the same circle of friends so we still saw each other sometimes, but this one time we went to dinner and we started talking again. It felt right. I realized how much I missed her and I wanted to give us another chance so I pursued her again" he looks over at you
"He saw flowers outside the restaurant and bought it, he gave it to me and now we're here. We haven't been apart since then" you finish
: How did the two of you meet?
"We met way back in middle school, he was one of the popular guys. All the girls in our grade had a crush on his and would give him their valentine favors. I really didn't think I had a chance" you chuckled, feeling your boyfriend's gaze on the side of your face
"I always get so many chocolates and valentines letter in my locker, but one year I got a whole cake with a small note greeting me a happy birthday" Jaehyun says
"That was me" you say with a big smile. You feel Jaehyun's hand take yours, then he kisses the back of your hand.
: Who liked who first?"
"I guess I did. I wasn't immune to his charms back then. I didn't expect he would notice me too"
"What do you mean? I knew who you were. I was the one who confessed first"
"Yeah because your ears would always turn red when we talked, you got busted" you tease him, giving his ear a playful tug
: What's one thing you love about your significant other?
Jaehyun answers first with no hesitation, "I love how she lets me be me. I feel the most complete with her. We broke up before so we can both learn and grow more, and we did. But me with her is the best version of me I can be"
You listen to his words, feeling all the emotions. Smiling at your boy before turning back to the camera
"I love his jokes" you hear him laugh from beside you
"Not everyone will get it. You can tell the exact moment he makes a joke in his head before he says it out loud, half of the time it's not even that funny but to me it always is. I just love his humor, I guess"
"I think you just love me a lot" he tells you, you roll your eyes at him
: Who said I love you first?
"He did, but technically I did. He said I said it in my sleep but he never told me about it until after a few years. But he's the one who said with both of us conscious" you chuckle
"She was so tired that day, we went back to my place and was just cuddling on my bed. I asked her if she was tired and wanted to sleep, she tucked herself on my side telling me to wake her up in an hour then she suddenly mumbled I love you. I thought I was hallucinating but I couldn't stop smiling after that. I said I love you to her not long after that, on the same bed while we were cuddling"
"Just cuddling" you clarified, earning a laugh from the staff
: Where do you see yourself in 5 or 10 years?
"Honestly, settled down with a family of my own"
"Of our own, baby" Jaehyun interrupts you, fighting the smile off of your face
"Settled down with a family of our own. I want to have kids, I love babies so it's definitely something I look forward to in the future"
Jaehyun listens to you, in his head he's already naming your two kids. He can't stop the smile on his face
"How about you, love?" you ask him, breaking him out if his thoughts
"Married to you, with two kids. I'm actually thinking of their names right now"
"Shut up" you laugh out loud, hitting him playfully on the arm
: What would you say is the secret to a long lasting relationship like yours?
"The truth is, it's not always smooth sailing. You will have fights, disagreements and arguments somewhere along the way and that's okay. That means the two of you are learning, growing up together. What's important is learning how to resolve it together, listen to each other and understand each other's side" you answer
Jaehyun nods in agreement.
"Be your partner's friend. It's important to tell them when something's not right, when something upsets you, when something bothers you. You don't always have to coddle them, appease them. Be each other's voice of reason. Of course always love and respect each othe" he says
: Okay, that's all. Thank you so much for sharing your time and your story with us, Mr. and Ms. Jeong. Anything else you want to say?
You shake your head, "Thank you everyone for your hardwork, thanks for having us" you say, then you look over at your boyfriend.
It was quick but you caught the cheeky smile on his face, and it meant one thing.
"Oh gosh he's about say something either really cheesy or really corny, just wait" you tell the staff and the camera
"Thanks everyone for having us, next time when we come back we'll be Mr. and Mrs. Jeong" he says with a big smile
"Okay see, I knew he was going to say something. That's it, valentine boy we're done here. Thank you!"
AND CUT
#tags#story#fic#nct#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct fluff#nct boyfriend#nct au#jaehyun#jaehyun imagine#jaehyun au#jaehyung fluff#jaehyun oneshot#jaehyun scenario
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》 ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ 《
You know, many people in Sunagakure and honestly in every other Village saw Gaara only as Kazekage. Not the Human he is, not the Things he went through, not what he have become. They saw him, their Eyes did sparkle and they said: "Look, it's Kazekage Gaara!"
But that was far not everything he was.
For almost a year now he also was a Husband, the Husband of Raziela Kobayashi. And for a few Months now he also was a Father. Not only of one Child, no, of two! Twins.
Time together was rare from the very beginning. Reeze was mostly alone with the Children because after all, Gaara was also the Leader of the Village. And it was important for Raziela that he didn't forget that - and that he didn't regret anything. He was in Charge for hundreds of people.
But sometimes Gaara was able to take a Day off and spend time with his little Family. And he enjoyed every second with his Children so much, and he took nothing for granted.
Going for a walk with the Children was normal for Raziela, but it was even more special when Gaara was with them. So of course he took the Chance and took the Stroller, always having an Eye of his precious little Twins.
On Days like that Gaara could forget for some time that he was the Leader of his Village.
On these Days he was simply a loving Husband and Father.
And of course because his Villagers know him, many people wanted to see the Children - so On their Way through the Village they had to stop many times because his people of course did recognize him, and everyone was excited to take a look at the Kazekage's Heir. 🩵
[I got Inspiration for the Description from redflowersuki 🩵]
➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️
Art (c) redflowersuki
Raziela, Jiro & Aoi (c) @kobayashisoul
Sabaku No Gaara (c) Masashi Kishimoto
Naruto & Boruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto and Mikio Ikemoto
This Picture was a Comission for me from redflowersuki . I am NOT the Artist of this Artwork. I have the Artists written permission to upload this drawing to my Social Media. ⚠️
The Ocs, their Designs and Stories belong to me. ⚠️
Without my written permission you have no right to recolor/repost/trace/edit/use this in any way. ⚠️
#gaara x oc#canon x oc#gaara oc#gaara wife#gaara x reeze#gaara x raziela#gaaree#gaara#kazekage#raziela kobayashi#reeze#aoi kobayashi#jiro kobayashi#gaara family#Twins#original characters#naruto fancharacter#naruto ocs#anime ocs#naruto#naruto the last#naruto blank period#naruto fanart#family of the sand#family#anime#manga#fanart#comission#kazekage twins
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So a while back, @little-red-irish-jaguar reblogged one of my posts with this devastating theory. The theory was that Leland sent Finn the transmission from Tony Trihull instead of the oil rigs. My first thought was to reject this theory because it went against my preconceptions that were so firmly rooted that my brain immediately sought to preserve them. However after rewatching the movie and studying the evidence, I can safely say that I was wrong. This theory tracks. And I will now write another essay to assess the evidence.
Firstly, the transmission itself: now it’s EXTREMELY hard to see shit in this video. The quality is god-awful and Leland never won any awards for videography. However this glorious angel on deviantart cleaned up some frames. (I’m not going to repost their art though since they don’t seem to be active in the fandom anymore and I don’t want to repost without permission. :/ ) but definitely go check it out!
So I’ll post the same shitty screenshots from the movie. Shoutout to veggieboy ultimate for uploading the opening scene on YouTube.

So there’s crates and metal reinforcements on the walls behind him. It does look like it could be on the oil rig.

Then he angles the camera to show this (port window?) like babygirl we can’t tell what that is… anyway it looks like a window of some sort and there fire. Now. That looks an awful lot like a round ship’s window.

Finally we get this weirdass shot of the ceiling? Again it’s very hard to tell what this is but it’s some sort of mechanical bay door that is closing.

Like it could be that? Tony does have cargo bay doors and that could be what we’re seeing.


Now the icing on top are these pieces of concept art from the Pixar website. That window porthole is drawn without all the overexposure and it looks just like the flair stacks from the oil rigs. And that’s why Leland is trying to get it in frame to show Finn. He’s seen the oil rigs from the ship. But that’s the last we see of him.
Next, we see Finn hightailing it out there to the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Here’s the kicker, the coordinates Leland gives Finn do not take him to the oil rigs.

(And for my even shittier stills) Crabby takes him to the coordinates and is like lol okay here we are! There’s lot of water!!
Now this always confused me as a kid. Was Crabby off with the coordinates? Did he stop too soon? But then if Leland sent the coordinates from Tony Trihull, it makes sense why those coordinates would lead to open water and not the oil rigs. The oil rigs may not be at those coordinates…

but he sure is: the ship Leland sent the coordinates from.

Next we see Finn by the loading dock and he comms Leland to let him know he’s there. Now this threw me off. Finn tells him he’s at the rally point but he’s not at the coordinates Leland sent him. I guess he figured this is where Leland ended up? (I mean he wasn’t wrong, unfortunately.)

Then we see the professor. He’s there because of the camera which they’re loading onto the ship because they’re about to sail to Japan because of the race. But they’re also unloading crates from the ship and it’s one of those crates that Leland’s body is in. He’s being unloaded from the ship which is where he was likely murdered.
.
As for my finishing thoughts. There’s a lot to unpack here. Leland never made it to the oil rigs alive which is a tragedy of its own that he died before he got to see what he’d discovered up close.
He had a lot of faith in Finn to be able to find him from coordinates he sent from a boat. And that faith was well founded. Finn did in fact find him albeit too late.
Since he wasn’t on the ship at the time, Professor Z was not the one who killed Leland (though he may have ordered him killed) it was likely Acer and Grem who killed him—which makes sense since they seem to be the more sadistic of the lemons in later scenes—but I still hate Zundapp just because he was involved in it!
And Finn did in fact get his revenge at the end of the movie in London when he blew Tony Trihull to smithereens. (I’d add the screenshot but I’m at my 10 image limit already XD)
#cars 2 headcanons#cars 2 meta#leland turbo#finn mcmissile#tony trihull#professor zundapp#cars 2 (2011)#cars 2#cars fandom#cars2renaissance
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Stop Using Me And My Work For AI
My stance against generative AI has always been clear and I didn’t think I would need to make such a big post reminding people of it until several people this week informed me of AI chatbots that others have made of myself, my original characters, and my voice being used on characterai/cai.
A lot of people who use characterai seem to think people are upset with them for being lonely or ‘cringe’ and if someone is bullying you like that for using it they shouldn’t, especially as a lot of its users are minors. However, you are doing wrong by using characterai because you are contributing to theft.
Generative AI can generate text, images, voices and more by being trained off other people’s work. In almost all cases the work used is not from consenting artists. AI ‘art’ generators take thousands of artists work that it chews up and spits back out and these artists did not consent. Chatbots and generative writing AI like characterai or ChatGPT does the same thing but with writing. I’ve heard too many people be against AI ‘art’ but use characterai (which has built in AI ‘art’ generation features) because they don’t seem to understand that writing can be and is stolen too. It’s taking from any writing that’s online from fanfics to blogs to articles to tweets. And these writers did not consent to have their work taken and then spat back out by a chatbot. Every time chatbots like these write to you, it is doing so by using stolen work. Even if you got the consent of a creator to put their characters on there, the chats generated are still trained on stolen content. Even if you upload your own characters on there, the chats generated are still trained on stolen content. None of that even touches upon the bad environmental impacts of generating anything with generative AI.
And with this situation on characterai, not only have my original characters been made into chatbots without my consent, not only has some of my art of Arden and Ambrose been reposted on there without credit (I don’t allow reposting with credit either) or consent, but my voice has also been taken and used to train two separate AI voices on there, and someone has made a chatbot of me, a real person. None of this was done with my consent or permission.
I feel violated. I don’t know how else to describe it. I feel sick, I’m shaking, I’ve been having panic attacks over this, I feel so deeply distressed. I thought it was bad enough just seeing people taking Ambrose and Arden and putting them on there, but today I found out there’s a chatbot of me. I’m a real person. Just because you listen to my audios or streams doesn’t mean you know me, because you don’t. I’m sorry to be blunt, but this is so uncomfortable parasocial. And then for two people on there to take my voice to make AI voice replicas of me (again without my consent). I don’t think I can put into words how sick and violated that makes me feel, to have my voice stolen.
As of writing this I have 346 videos up here on my Youtube channel and post videos 3 times a week, you are not starved for my voice or my work. I allow for people to make their own fanworks of my characters including fanfiction. I allow for people to commission others to make art of my characters including fanfiction. You have options that aren’t generating AI content. Reader insert fics exist. Your imagination exists. RP communities exist. You know what I did as a kid when stuff like this didn’t exist? I would copy and paste fanfics into Microsoft Word, find and replace the names with my own/my ocs/other characters and then wow you have a fic about anyone you want (obviously I did not post these online, these were just silly edits I made for myself when I was a minor).
Do not contact, send hate, or harass any of the people on characterai who’ve uploaded my characters or myself onto there (or anyone in general using characterai or generative AI). I don’t want this to be a callout post against characterai users. This post is for any of my followers who do use characterai to please learn about the harm generative AI does to creators, raise awareness, and hopefully get these chabots and voices deleted (especially the chabot of myself and the voices). And if anyone who made any characters or voices of myself or my original characters on characterai sees this: please delete them. Please, please delete them. You are not wrong for being lonely, you’re not pathetic or cringe for using characterai, but you are contributing to the theft of people’s works. Some of you have literally stolen my voice.
If you do go and do research into characterai please be careful as recent lawsuits against them to include trigger topics and these will inevitably appear when you search around. That raises a whole other problem with characterai and it’s popularity with minors as there’s nothing that makes it impossible for the chatbot to be hateful, bigoted, harass you, send sexual messages, etc. I know characterai is implementing safeguards, but even they admit they can’t make it impossible for these messages to be sent.
I am not the only creator this has happened too. When browsing characterai to see how many of my characters were on there I found over 50 of YuuriVoice’s characters, and multiple of other creators like Cardlin and Dark And Twisted Whispers. Including not just the characters, but chatbots of themselves.
It’s 3am here and I’m sorry if there’s any typos in this, I did proof read it I promise, I’m just really tired. I was getting into bed and clearing notifications off my phone when I saw the reply on Tumblr telling me my voice was on characterai. Thank you to those of you who made me aware of this, hopefully at least I can get the AI voices of myself taken down as it is against characterai’s TOS to make voices of real people without their consent. It’s also against their TOS for anything on their site to be impersonating real people. Thank you guys as always for supporting me, I’m sorry for such an agitated post I’m just really upset about all of this. Be safe out there.
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Art Dump! - Soap edition
Part 2 (Landscape studies) | Part 3 (OC Artworks)
Hello, I'm not dead, just a lot more active elsewhere at the moment! Let's start with the Soap drawings first, shall we? As always, don't use my artwork without my permission. Do not repost to other sides, do not upload it to train AI. I do not consent. More boundaries here.
Had to do the meme with these two variants. (Feb. 2025)
I did a redraw of a drawing I had made in September (?) last year, 2024. (Previous one down below). This one, I finished April, 2025.
Character/Soap variant still belongs to Cain (hells_alpha) over on the clock app.
Did a ref-sheet for this one too. This took me 20 hours, I am not lying. Story in short: Soap's very dead body got stolen by a facility and he was turned into a super soldier. He worked for the RSP, before he was able to make his escape and now is the Captain of all those he was able to take with him, aka formed a PMC named Riot Company.
That's all to the Soaps! There is more. Buckle up.
Master list of post
#cod cosplayer fanart#cod fandom#soap mactavish#call of duty#I redrew art of mine again#Take my humble offering of this fine man#Look at this improvement
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Adam Thomas at the Suffolk Show [Day 1] (29/05/2024)
NOTE: Please DO NOT repost any of my photography works WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! If you would like to showcase my photography then please ask me for permission first and if I grant permission, please CREDIT ME. You also know the drill if I say no/don’t grant the permission, it means NO. It is preferable to use Tumblr’s built in reblogging function on the site at the very least as it will link back to the original. I also DO NOT allow alterations/re-edits of my works so please DON'T re-edit/alter any of my photos!
For a full understand of what I don't allow, please refer yourself to my post here: https://www.tumblr.com/rochellek1994/725920141858226176/psarant-photography-theft-and-reposting
Hi everyone! I have decided to upload my work in a brand new way moving forward with just separate topics (especially separate folders for topics) if it is an event etc. As this might potentially take the overwhelming work load off me, depending on how my motivation treats me etc.
Anyways, a huge apologies for these photos being approx. 3 or 4 months late, I got incredibly sick for two weeks in June and by the time I got over the illness, I was out on the road again for photography purposes which did not give me time to work on the photos.












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@maegor_the_cool on tiktok word-for-word stole your post about queen alysanne and is passing it off as their own in the comments on their most recent video. when i asked them about it, they claimed they didn't know it was yours and they got it from a forum, which doesn't really make it okay that they pretended it was their own words, and now they're claiming you gave them permission but i highly doubt it. just thought i'd let you know.
Oh, lovely! No, this person has never contacted me, I just looked through my entire inbox to make sure. I went and checked out the video and yep they literally took it verbatim. For reference y'all, here is the original post, which you can see I made on 2/28/2023. The TikTok creator got it from this post, which you can see was made on 3/7/2023, over a week after I made my original post. The forum poster is also passing off my content as their own in the comments on that thread. And here are screenshots from the TikTok posted 14 hours ago, since they turned sharing off:
...So I guess this is time to remind everyone that if you repost my stuff without my knowledge and without crediting me, you are doing so without my permission and I do not support it. I've said yes to 100% of the people who've asked me permission, so I don't understand why this seems to be a recurring issue. Also, a 1-minute Google search for this post would have turned up my blog, so it's not like this person couldn't find me because it was too hard. They just didn't check their source before using it. It's a shame, because I checked out the comments and we both 100% agree on the subject matter.
Here's a handy little guide to how to responsibly and respectfully repost my content:
Send me an ask with information about where to find the repost (usually platform + username will do). I'll say yes, but just please ask me so I know it's out there.
Credit me VISIBLY in the post. Please don't hide it somewhere, make it front and center the way an artist does with their watermark. In fact, putting my Tumblr URL in as a watermark is a super easy way to do this!
If you come across my content but you don't know it's me, but you for sure know it's not YOURS, maybe don't pretend it's yours? And maybe spend 1-2 minutes copying and pasting it into Google, which will lead you right to my blog.
If the content has been posted in multiple places, it's still really easy to find the original. Check the dates the posts were made and use the earliest post when crediting. For example, in this instance, the forum post was made a week after mine, which proves mine to be the original. Again, it only takes 1-2 minutes to check this using Google.
I really would prefer for them to delete the video and reupload it with proper credit, especially since it's been up for only 14 hours. There's a link here that explains how you can do this while saving the video so you don't have to re-format everything. I'd also prefer for the forum poster to acknowledge that they stole my content. But this is the Internet, so while I can ask for people to be honest and respectful about my content I unfortunately can't enforce it. :(
Edit: The TikTok creator reached out to me and they've re-uploaded the video with credit, which I appreciate! And they did get consent from the forum poster, just unfortunately that poster had stolen it from me. It's still not great that they didn't check their source, and that they didn't even credit the forum user at first. It's a good practice to copy and paste something into Google to check that you do indeed have the original source before reposting.
The forum user has now added a line to credit me at the top of his post. I'm still pissed at him for trying to get away with passing my words off as his own though. At least the TikTok creator asked the forum user first, but the forum user just stole my words without even asking me. What a man moment, to steal the credit for a woman's ideas 😒
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The ABC's of Nick Vaughn ~ "K"

Pairing: Reader x Nick Vaughn (Before We Go)
Summary: Children its time to learn your ABCs. And Nick Vaughn is here to teach you the lessons. 26 glimpses in the world of you and Nick Vaughn
Warnings: S-M-U-T!!!! (under 18 please leave the chat!) descriptions of sexual activity including some themes of BDSM, loss of virginity, fluffy bits, pet name etc...
A/N: The new upload will probably be Sundays and Thursdays. Have fun kittens! Also, the tag list is open!
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Previous: J - Jerking Off
ABC Masterlist - Main Masterlist
K - Kink
Something you were a little nervous about was a fantasy kink you had. Nick dominated the bedroom, no question, but he was always sweet, giving praise that made you keen in delight. Calling you his Angel, a good girl, telling you how fantastic you felt or how something was right.
But this, this was drifting into a darkness that you didn’t know you had. Degradation. But it was on the list and Nick said he would try it when you least expected it.
You had just pulled out a cake you were making for dessert, which you felt hands pull at your waist. You yelped but a hand covered your mouth. “Scream, little slut and I will spank you,” Nick breathed in your ear.
“Nick,” you gasped as he pushed your shoulders over the sink.
“Shut up. You ungrateful brat. I don’t want to hear you speak.” Nick palmed your breast roughly, causing breathy moans to be released. “That’s it, little whore like you likes it when a man takes control, makes sure you are filled to the brim.” His hands ran over your ass and down your legs until they were under the skirt of your sun dress. He felt up to the lace panties you were wearing.
“Please,” you whined.
“I said shut up, you fucking bitch. I will do what I want when I want, understand.” When you failed to answer, he grabbed you by your hair and pulled your head back. “Answer me!”
You nod but he just pulls harder. “Use your words.” Or are you already cockdrunk? It's not even out yet.”
“I understand,” you whispered. Nick smiled sadistically and pulled your underwear off. He ran a finger through your folds, gathering the moisture.
“I think this pussy likes it when I call it names.” Nick kneels behind you and licks your slit from behind. You moan, grasping the sink to ground yourself.
“Nicky, I...”
“What is going to take to get your fucking mouth to stop saying words!” Nick growled in your ear. “Stupid cunt. Stop speaking. The only sounds are your moans, got it slut?”
Nick has never talked to you this way, never said these nasty words. Tears are brimming in your eyes.
“Red.”
Nick’s demeanor changed instantly. He let you up and spun you around, hugging and kissing your head, cradling as you cried. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean it, you know that.”
You hiccup as you sob. “I know, I’m sorry, I know I said I wanted to try this...”
“No, you did the right thing. That’s why we have rules.” He holds you close as your heart starts to calm. He picks you up, bridal style and takes you to your room. As he lays you down, he kisses you softly. “I’ll be right back.”
He grabs you a bottle of water and your panties from the floor. He hands you the water, tossing the panties in the laundry and grabs a fresh pair for you. He dresses you gently and then climbs into bed. “Baby, are we done with this kink?”
You nod. “I didn’t like it. I read about it, and it turned me on but when it happened to me, I just...”
“You know I would never speak to you that way. I love you, my Angel, my beautiful girl.” He kissed your head. “Now, how about I make you some tea and we have cake, and we’ll watch whatever you want.” You nod and smile. “Good.”
Next
Taglist
@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @atoosa22 @tinkerbelle67
#andy's shenanigans#andy's hea#chris evans#the ABCs of nick Vaughn#nick vaughn x reader#chris evans fanfiction#nick vaughn smut#nick vaughn x you#before we go au#chris evans fic#chris evans smut#chris evans au
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can I request some of the drivers dating a girl who isn’t afraid to clap back and go just as low as the fans? I love a messy girl like us😂
Clock It
Navigation
Warnings: Clapbacks, fans being disrespectful, curse words
• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •
Drivers: Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Charles, Max, and Franco

Lando Norris – Paddock Tension
The sun gleams off the circuit at Silverstone, reflecting the high-stakes energy that fills the paddock. The roar of the crowd, the sound of engines revving, and the shimmering excitement of race day are in full swing. Lando Norris, a rising star in Formula 1, walks confidently through the paddock. His girlfriend, Y/N, strolls beside him, equally unfazed by the buzzing attention they attract. Dressed in a striking McLaren orange jumpsuit that hugs her frame perfectly, Y/N commands just as much attention as Lando, if not more. Her calm demeanor contrasts the excitement around them as they head toward the McLaren garage.
It’s not the first time the couple has walked hand-in-hand through the chaos of race day. They’ve grown accustomed to the stares, the whispers, and the buzzing cameras. Y/N had learned to navigate the complexities of being in the public eye, especially alongside a high-profile figure like Lando. Today, however, feels different—the attention is sharper, more intense. Lando senses it too, and as they pass a row of fans, the energy shifts.
“Lando! Lando, over here!” A woman’s voice rises above the usual cacophony of the crowd. At first, it’s a simple call for an autograph, but then it turns ugly. “Ditch the gold digger! You deserve someone who cares about you, not your money!”
The words slice through the air, sharp and cruel, turning the heads of those nearby. Y/N stops dead in her tracks, her confident smile evaporating as she scans the crowd. Lando feels her hand tense in his, his own expression darkening as he tries to pull her away, but it’s too late. Y/N isn’t the type to back down.
With an air of unshakable calm, Y/N strides toward the group, her energy radiating fierce confidence. She stands tall, her head high, and her eyes narrowed on the woman who dared to shout the insult. Y/N’s movements are measured, her anger controlled, but it’s clear to anyone watching that she is not going to let this slide.
“Excuse me?” Y/N’s voice cuts through the noise with a biting edge, each word deliberate. “What was that?”
The woman falters under Y/N’s piercing gaze. Her bravado seems to waver now that she’s face-to-face with her target. She looks to her friends for support, but they stay silent, wide-eyed and nervous.
“You heard me,” the woman stammers, attempting to reclaim her footing. “He could do better than you.” The words, though repeated, now sound hollow.
Y/N takes off her sunglasses slowly, her expression unyielding as she steps closer. “Better?” she echoes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sweetheart, better would be me not wasting my time here educating you. But since I’m feeling generous today, let’s clear a few things up. You see, I’ve got my own. I’m not here for his money—maybe you should Google me sometime, yeah?”
The woman’s confidence crumbles under Y/N’s steady, unflinching gaze. She shifts awkwardly on her feet, muttering something unintelligible. Lando, still holding Y/N’s hand, leans down slightly, his voice gentle as he whispers, “Come on, babe. Let’s go.”
But Y/N isn’t done yet. She holds the woman’s gaze for a beat longer, ensuring her message is crystal clear before slipping her sunglasses back on. “Next time, say it with your chest,” she tosses over her shoulder as she turns away, her stride purposeful and unfazed.
As they walk away, Lando struggles to suppress a grin, his admiration for Y/N shining through. “You didn’t have to do all that,” he teases lightly, though the pride in his voice is unmistakable.
“Oh, I absolutely did,” Y/N responds, her tone unyielding. “People think they can talk trash without facing any consequences. Not today.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder with a smirk, her confidence unwavering.
Lando laughs softly, shaking his head in admiration. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Y/N winks at him playfully. “Smart man,” she replies, the tension already evaporating as they step into the McLaren garage.
Inside, the hum of mechanics working on cars and the murmur of the team greet them. The air is thick with concentration, but Lando and Y/N slip seamlessly into the controlled chaos. The earlier confrontation feels like a distant memory now, drowned out by the electric energy of race day. But as Lando prepares for his upcoming session, he can’t help but glance at Y/N, his respect for her fierceness only growing.
Y/N knows that being in a relationship with someone like Lando comes with its challenges. The scrutiny, the whispers, the constant questioning of her motives—it’s a regular part of her life now. But she’s never been one to shrink in the face of adversity. Instead, she meets it head-on, confident in her worth and her place by Lando’s side. The people who criticize from the sidelines, hiding behind their assumptions and their envy, don’t know her. And frankly, she doesn’t care what they think.
As Lando climbs into his race suit and prepares to join his team, Y/N settles into a chair nearby, scrolling through her phone as if nothing had happened. She’s already moved on, her mind focused on supporting Lando through his race. If the incident from earlier affected her, she doesn’t show it. That’s the thing about Y/N—she doesn’t let the negativity stick. It’s just noise, easily silenced.
When Lando finally steps out onto the track, Y/N watches with a quiet sense of pride. She knows the pressure he’s under, the expectations from the team, the fans, and the sport itself. But she also knows that he’s more than capable of rising to the occasion, just as she is capable of standing strong beside him. Together, they form a team, one that’s unshakable in the face of external doubt.
The race continues, and as the sun begins to set over the Monaco circuit, Y/N’s earlier confrontation seems insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Her confidence, her unwavering belief in herself and in her relationship with Lando, remains unchallenged. And as they leave the paddock hand-in-hand once more, the noise of the crowd fades behind them, leaving only the quiet assurance that they are stronger together than anyone could ever understand.
In this world of fast cars, fast fame, and fast judgments, Y/N knows exactly who she is. And more importantly, she knows exactly where she stands—with Lando, confidently, unshaken, and unapologetically herself.
Carlos Sainz – Vacation in the Maldives
The Maldives is a paradise, a perfect blend of turquoise waters, white sandy beaches, and luxurious resorts that seem to float on the edge of the world. For Carlos Sainz and Y/N, it is the perfect escape from the relentless pace of the Formula 1 circuit. After months of intense competition, the constant travel, and the high-octane energy of the paddock, they have finally carved out time for themselves, away from the noise and pressure of the sport.
Y/N is lounging on a deck chair, her tropical-print dress fluttering softly in the warm breeze. She tilts her head back, the sun warming her skin, and sips from a colorful cocktail as the gentle sound of the ocean waves laps at the shore just a few meters away. Beside her, Carlos is reading a travel magazine, his sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the relaxed vacationer. The two of them are a picture of tranquility, far removed from the intense world they usually inhabit.
“This is heaven,” Y/N sighs contentedly, setting her drink down on the small table beside her. “I could stay here forever.”
Carlos smiles, glancing over the top of his magazine at her. “You say that now, but give it a week, and you’ll be itching to get back to the excitement.”
Y/N laughs softly, nodding. “Okay, maybe not forever. But I’m definitely not ready to leave yet.”
As the conversation lulls, Y/N picks up her phone, scrolling through the latest social media updates. It’s habit, something she does without thinking—checking in on the outside world, even while trying to escape it. She swipes through a few photos of their trip, the beautiful views, the serene beaches, and then lands on a picture she posted earlier in the day—a candid shot of her and Carlos laughing, his arm draped casually around her shoulders as they explored the island. The photo had racked up thousands of likes and comments, most of them positive, celebrating the couple’s obvious happiness.
But one comment, in particular, catches Y/N’s eye.
“She’s so loud and extra. Carlos deserves someone more refined, not some wannabe trying to get attention.”
Y/N’s good mood dissipates in an instant, her relaxed posture stiffening as she reads the words again. The audacity of it, the arrogance in assuming they know what Carlos deserves, sets her blood boiling. She clenches her jaw, sitting up straighter in her chair.
“Oh, hell no,” she mutters, her fingers already moving to respond.
Carlos looks up, sensing the shift in her mood. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern flickering in his eyes.
Without a word, Y/N hands him the phone, the offending comment glaring up at him from the screen. Carlos reads it, his brows furrowing slightly, but then he shakes his head with a soft chuckle.
“It’s not worth it, amor,” he says, handing the phone back to her. “They’re just jealous. We don’t need to give them attention.”
But Y/N isn’t having it. “Oh, no. This one deserves a personal response,” she insists, already typing furiously.
Carlos watches with a bemused expression as Y/N taps out her reply: “‘Loud and extra’ keeps him happy, especially earlier this morning in our bed, so maybe focus on making yourself interesting before you come for me. Ciao.”
She hits send with a satisfied smirk, leaning back in her chair as she watches the comment thread blow up with reactions. Carlos lets out a low laugh, shaking his head as he watches her.
“You’re ruthless,” he remarks, amusement clear in his voice. “They don’t stand a chance.”
Y/N grins, taking a long sip from her cocktail. “Damn right they don’t,” she replies confidently. “I’m not the one to come for if you don’t want the smoke.”
Carlos reaches out, taking her hand and pulling her closer to him. “That’s one of the reasons I love you,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her hand. “You never back down.”
Y/N smiles at him, her earlier frustration melting away in the warmth of his affection. “And you better remember that when someone tries to come for you,” she warns playfully. “I’ve always got your back.”
Carlos chuckles, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “I know you do,” he replies sincerely. “And I’ve always got yours.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the rustling palm trees providing the perfect backdrop for their quiet moment of connection. It’s in these moments, away from the pressures of the public eye and the constant scrutiny of the media, that Y/N and Carlos can truly be themselves. There’s no need for pretenses, no need to play the roles that the world expects of them. Here, they are simply Carlos and Y/N—two people deeply in love, enjoying the rare luxury of time alone together.
But even in paradise, the shadows of their public lives can creep in, as Y/N was reminded today. It’s not the first time she’s had to deal with online trolls, and it certainly won’t be the last. Being with Carlos, a high-profile athlete constantly in the spotlight, comes with its fair share of challenges. People always have opinions—about her, about them, about what their relationship should look like. But Y/N has never been one to let those opinions affect her. She knows her worth, and she knows that Carlos loves her for exactly who she is.
The rest of the day passes in a blissful haze of sunshine, laughter, and the occasional playful banter. They stroll along the beach, hand-in-hand, the soft sand warm beneath their feet. They swim in the crystal-clear waters, teasing each other and splashing like children. And as the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, they sit on the edge of the infinity pool, watching the horizon together.
Later, as they return to their villa, the night air cool and soothing, Y/N checks her phone again. The comment she responded to earlier has blown up, with hundreds of replies supporting her clapback and laughing at the original troll. She smiles to herself, feeling a sense of satisfaction. It’s not about winning internet arguments—it’s about standing up for herself and for her relationship. And in this world of constant judgment and scrutiny, that’s something Y/N will never shy away from.
As they climb into bed, Carlos pulls her close, his arm draped around her waist as they settle into the comforting quiet of the night. Y/N rests her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“You were right earlier,” Carlos murmurs, his voice low and soft in the darkness.
“About what?” Y/N asks, her eyes already drifting shut.
“That you’re loud and extra,” he teases gently. “And that’s exactly how I like it.”
Y/N laughs softly, too content to argue. “Good,” she replies sleepily. “Because I’m not changing anytime soon.”
Carlos kisses the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. “I wouldn’t want you to.”
And with that, they drift off to sleep, the world outside their little paradise fading away, if only for a while.
Oscar Piastri – Monaco Grand Prix Weekend
The streets of Monte Carlo are alive with the thrilling atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix weekend. Fans from all over the world flood the narrow streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers as the city buzzes with excitement. This is the pinnacle of glamour and adrenaline—fast cars racing through historic streets, the Mediterranean Sea gleaming in the background, and celebrities rubbing shoulders with the elite of motorsport.
Oscar Piastri and Y/N walk through the heart of it all, navigating the winding streets of Monaco like seasoned veterans. Oscar, the young F1 sensation, wears the casual confidence of someone who’s already made a name for himself in the sport, despite his relative newness to the Formula 1 scene. By his side, Y/N exudes confidence and grace, dressed in a sleek, black jumpsuit that hugs her frame and commands attention. Her presence complements Oscar’s calm demeanor, making them a striking pair as they stroll through the city.
The couple is stopped every few steps by fans eager for autographs and photos, and Oscar obliges with his trademark humility and charm. Y/N stands by his side, smiling at the supporters and making small talk with those brave enough to engage her. For the most part, the day feels perfect—Monaco’s luxurious aura surrounds them, and the thrill of the upcoming race is palpable in the air.
But in every crowd, there are always a few who can’t help but whisper. Y/N is used to it by now—the hushed judgments, the sneers, the people who think they know more about her than they actually do. Today, though, it seems louder, sharper. A group of women nearby, decked out in expensive sunglasses and trendy outfits, aren’t as discreet as they think they are. Their words carry over the noise of the crowd, clear enough for Y/N to catch every single one.
“Look at her, acting like she belongs here,” one of the women says, her voice dripping with disdain. “She’s only with him for the status. You can tell she’s not a part of this world.”
The comments hit Y/N like a slap in the face. Her blood boils instantly, and she can feel the anger bubbling beneath her calm exterior. The temptation to ignore them flickers for a brief second, but Y/N quickly realizes that’s not an option today. She’s not the kind of person to let things slide, especially when someone questions her place next to Oscar. After all, she knows exactly who she is and why she’s there—and it certainly has nothing to do with fame or fortune.
Oscar, engrossed in signing autographs, doesn’t notice the shift in Y/N’s demeanor at first. She gently pulls her arm away from his for a moment, her movements deliberate as she turns to face the group of women. Her back straightens, and she walks toward them with an air of confidence that silences their giggles.
“Do you have something to say to me?” Y/N’s voice is sharp and direct, her words cutting through the murmur of the crowd like a knife. The women freeze, their laughter dying instantly as they realize Y/N has heard every word. “Or do you always talk behind people’s backs like that?”
Caught off guard, the women glance at each other, suddenly unsure of themselves. They hadn’t expected Y/N to confront them so boldly.
“Uh… no, we were just saying…” one of them starts, but Y/N cuts her off with an icy look.
“There’s no need to whisper,” Y/N says firmly, her gaze unyielding. “If you’ve got something to say, be bold enough to say it to me directly.” She pauses for effect, her voice lowering with a dangerous edge. “Because trust me, I belong wherever I choose to be.”
Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, it feels as if time stands still. The women are visibly uncomfortable now, fidgeting with their bags and sunglasses, clearly out of their depth. They mumble incoherent apologies before awkwardly shuffling off, leaving Y/N standing tall, her head held high.
Satisfied, Y/N turns back to rejoin Oscar just as he finishes signing the last autograph. He glances at her, a curious look on his face. “What was that about?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Y/N shrugs, slipping her arm through his with a casual smile. “Just some clueless women talking nonsense,” she replies, her voice light but firm. “They learned today.”
Oscar chuckles softly, clearly impressed by her resolve. “You didn’t have to say anything, you know.”
“Oh, but I did,” Y/N replies, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “People think they can say whatever they want without consequences. Not with me around.”
Oscar laughs, shaking his head in admiration. “Well, remind me never to introduce you to Twitter. They wouldn’t survive.”
Y/N flashes him a playful grin, her earlier frustration melting away. “I’d break the internet.”
They continue their walk through the streets of Monaco, arm-in-arm, their connection stronger than ever. Y/N’s heart swells with pride, not just for standing up for herself, but for the unwavering support she feels from Oscar. He never questions her worth, never doubts her intentions—and that’s all that matters.
The whispers, the judgments, the petty comments—they are just noise in the background of their relationship. Y/N knows that as long as she and Oscar are solid, nothing else matters. And as they make their way through the glamorous chaos of the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, Y/N feels more confident than ever in her place by his side.
Charles Leclerc – Traveling in Italy
The warm, golden hues of the Italian countryside create a picturesque backdrop as Charles Leclerc and Y/N sit at a small, rustic restaurant tucked away from the tourist-heavy streets. The charming, intimate atmosphere is perfect for a romantic evening, and the scent of fresh pasta and wine fills the air. Earlier in the day, they had explored vineyards, tasting some of the finest wines the region had to offer, and now they’re relaxing, enjoying the peace that comes with being away from the F1 spotlight.
Y/N scrolls through the photos on her phone, smiling at the memories they’ve made today—Charles grinning with a glass of wine in hand, the two of them laughing together under the Tuscan sun, the beautiful vineyards stretching out for miles. It’s been the perfect day, and Y/N feels content, her heart full as she glances over at Charles, who is busy browsing the menu with a thoughtful expression.
But as she continues scrolling, a new notification pops up, and her playful mood instantly sours. A comment on her latest Instagram post catches her attention: “She’s way too flashy for Charles. He deserves someone more understated, not someone who’s just after attention.”
Y/N feels her stomach drop, the familiar sting of online criticism hitting her hard. It’s not the first time she’s been on the receiving end of such comments, but that doesn’t make it any easier to brush off. She clenches her jaw, her grip tightening on the phone as she reads the words again, the implication clear: she’s not good enough for Charles.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her earlier happiness replaced by a growing anger. She turns her phone around, showing Charles the comment.
Charles looks up from the menu, his brow furrowing as he reads the words on the screen. He sighs softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ignore them, chérie,” he says gently, reaching for her hand across the table. “People like that don’t know us.”
Y/N exhales slowly, but she’s not the type to let something like this slide. “Oh, I’m not ignoring this,” she says, her voice firm as she starts typing out a response.
Charles watches her, his expression a mixture of amusement and admiration as she types furiously on her phone. Within moments, she’s crafted her reply: “Fitting into your world? Honey, I am the world, and Charles knows that. Stay mad.”
Satisfied, Y/N hits send, leaning back in her chair with a smug smile. “There,” she says, her tone triumphant. “That should shut them up.”
Charles chuckles softly, his fingers gently brushing over hers. “You really don’t let anything slide, do you?”
“Nope,” Y/N replies confidently. “People think they can say whatever they want because they’re hiding behind a screen. They need to learn that I’m not the one to mess with.”
Charles’s lips curl into a fond smile as he squeezes her hand affectionately. “And that’s one of the things I love about you,” he says softly, his voice full of sincerity. “You never hold back.”
Y/N grins, feeling her mood lighten under his warm gaze. “Damn right,” she replies, her confidence fully restored. “Besides, someone’s got to remind them who they’re dealing with.”
Charles nods, clearly proud of her. “They’ll learn soon enough,” he says, his tone filled with quiet amusement.
As they return to their meal, the soft murmur of other diners around them, Y/N feels the tension in her shoulders slowly fade away. The comment, as hurtful as it had been, is now just a distant memory. It’s moments like these—sitting across from Charles, holding his hand, sharing a quiet evening in one of the most beautiful places in the world—that remind her of what really matters.
Charles has never doubted her, and she’s never doubted him. Their relationship is built on trust, respect, and love—something no online troll or judgmental comment can ever shake. And as long as they have that, Y/N knows she’ll always have the upper hand when it comes to dealing with the haters.
Later that night, as they stroll through the cobblestone streets hand-in-hand, the warm Italian breeze caressing their skin, Y/N leans into Charles, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her hand.
“You know,” Y/N begins with a smirk, glancing up at him. “If you ever want me to clap back at anyone for you, I’m always available.”
Charles laughs, the sound rich and genuine as he pulls her closer. “I don’t doubt that for a second, chérie,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But I think you’ve got it covered enough for both of us.”
Y/N laughs along with him, the earlier frustrations of the day long gone as they continue walking together through the beautiful Italian night, content in the knowledge that they have each other’s backs—no matter what the world throws at them.
Max Verstappen – Private Yacht in Monaco
The luxury yacht bobs gently on the crystal-clear waters of the Mediterranean as the sun dips toward the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything. The sound of waves lapping against the boat and the distant hum of Monaco’s nightlife creates a tranquil backdrop for Max Verstappen and Y/N as they relax on the deck, soaking in the beauty of the evening.
Y/N, reclining on a lounge chair in a chic swimsuit and oversized sunglasses, looks every bit the picture of calm and confidence as she scrolls through her phone. Max, sitting beside her with a cold drink in hand, glances over at her occasionally, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It’s rare for them to have moments like this—quiet, private, away from the chaos of the F1 world—and they’re both savoring it.
But their peaceful evening is interrupted when Y/N’s phone pings with a new notification. She sighs softly, her serene expression darkening as she reads the message.
“You’ll never be good enough for Max. He’s a world champion, and you’re just here for the ride.”
Y/N’s lips curl into a mocking smile as she reads the comment again. The nerve of some people, she thinks, her annoyance growing with each passing second. It’s one thing to criticize her, but to insinuate that she doesn’t deserve to be with Max? That’s a line she’s not willing to let slide.
She turns her phone toward Max, showing him the message. “Look at this,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Max scans the screen, his expression unbothered as he rolls his eyes. “People always think they know everything,” he says with a dismissive shake of his head. “It’s not worth your time.”
“Oh, but this one chose the right day to try me,” Y/N replies, sitting up and quickly typing out a response.
Max watches her, his eyes glinting with amusement as Y/N types: “Good enough? Honey, Max isn’t the prize here—I am. You don’t even have the nerve to put a profile pic up, so maybe worry about your own lane.”
She hits send with a satisfied grin, leaning back in her chair as she watches the comment thread explode with reactions. Max chuckles, clearly entertained by her fiery response.
“You really don’t hold back, do you?” he says, his tone affectionate.
Y/N shrugs, slipping her sunglasses back on as she relaxes against the cushions. “Why would I? People think they can say whatever they want just because you’re in the spotlight. They need to be reminded that I won’t let them walk all over me.”
Max leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “That’s why I love you,” he murmurs against her skin. “You’ve always got that fire.”
“Damn right,” Y/N replies, her confidence unwavering. “Besides, I don’t need anyone to tell me what’s good enough for you. We already know the truth.”
Max smiles, pulling her closer as they both settle back into the warmth of the setting sun. He knows that Y/N is more than capable of handling herself—whether it’s dealing with online trolls or navigating the pressures of being in a high-profile relationship. She’s strong, confident, and unapologetically herself, and that’s exactly why he loves her.
As the yacht gently rocks on the waves and the lights of Monaco begin to twinkle in the distance, Max and Y/N enjoy the peace of the evening, content in the knowledge that nothing—and no one—can shake their bond.
Franco Colapinto – Backstage at a Press Event
The backstage area of the press event is bustling with energy as drivers, media personnel, and team members prepare for the upcoming Formula 1 season. The air is thick with excitement, the hum of cameras and the chatter of journalists filling the space. Franco Colapinto stands front and center, answering questions with the ease of a seasoned professional, his charming smile never wavering despite the rapid-fire interviews.
Y/N stands off to the side, watching him with a sense of pride and admiration looking stunning as always. She’s seen Franco grow into his role as a driver, handling the pressure with grace and poise, and it’s moments like this that remind her of why she fell in love with him in the first place. Some fans nearby snap pictures, but a few nasty comments about Y/N quickly make their way online.
But as she scrolls through her phone, her attention is quickly drawn to a notification that sours her mood.
“She’s too aggressive, too much attitude. Franco deserves someone sweeter, not someone who’s always so loud and in your face.”
Y/N’s eyes narrow as she reads the comment, her fingers already flying across her keyboard as she types a response.
“Aggressive? Seriously?” she mutters under her breath. “Aggressive? You mean confident, right? And let’s not pretend you know what Franco deserves, because I guarantee you don’t.”
She hits send with a sharp exhale, the satisfaction of clapping back quickly replacing her earlier annoyance. Just as she finishes, Franco wraps up his interview and walks over to her, his smile widening as he approaches.
“What’s going on?” he asks, noticing the intensity in her expression.
“Just clapping back at some clueless fans,” Y/N replies, her tone casual but firm. “Nothing new.”
Franco raises an eyebrow, his smile softening as he takes her hand. “You’re always ready for a fight, aren’t you?”
Y/N laughs, leaning into him as he pulls her closer. “If they come for me, they better be ready. It’s just who I am.”
Franco presses a kiss to her forehead, his admiration for her clear in the way he looks at her. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”
Y/N smiles up at him, her earlier frustration already forgotten. With Franco by her side, she knows she can handle anything the world throws at her—whether it’s the pressure of being in the public eye or the opinions of people who think they know her.
Together, they’re unstoppable.

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen
F1 Grid Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @lightdragonrayne, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @dhanihamidi, @xoscar03, @miarabanana, @decafmickey, @icecoldtires, @evesfile, @ysnhua, @mellowluka, @bdreamalot99, @qxeenjen
#x black fem reader#formula 1#x black!fem!reader#x reader#x black!reader#x black reader#formula one#lando norris#lando norris x black!reader#lando norris imagine#carlos sainz x black reader#carlos sainz imagine#oscar piastri x black reader#oscar piastri imagine#charles leclerc x black!reader#charles leclerc imagines#max verstappen x black!reader#max verstappen imagine#franco colapinto x black!reader#franco colapinto imagine#f1 x black!reader#formula one x black reader#formula 1 x black!reader#x black oc#oscar piastri#charles leclerc#carlos sainz#max verstappen#franco colapinto#f1 fics
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that time you said you’d love me if I was a worm - haechan scenario
hi😊 i’m still trying to get back on this, after not writing for a long time i’m kind of.. lost. 😅 it’s like i’m starting all over again. So apologies for the short uploads, for the ongoing series it will be put onhold indefinitely. my schedule is still too packed 😔 if you have any questions for me or request for future stories, just send me a message and I’ll answer them when I can! 💛
As always thank you for your support!
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2022 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine. credit to original owner)
Haechan liked playing pranks or making jokes and most of the time he’s the one doing it, not the other way around. As his girlfriend, it’s like you get a freepass to play pranks on him without the other one getting mad. All harmless and in the name of fun of course.
One time, you pranked him by hiding under the bed and just when he was within your reach. You held your hand out to clasp around his ankle, your poor boyfriend letting out the loudest shriek while you almost run out of breath laughing whilst still under the bed.
“Good to know, you’re having fun seeing me almost suffer from a heart attack” he said with a scowl on his face, watching you clutch your stomach from laughing too much
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be that scared”
“I thought you were in the bathroom!”
“Sorry sorry I won’t do it again, come here I’ll cuddle you”
He turned away from you, acting like he didn’t want the hug but you went for it anyways. “You’re mean”
“You love me”
“Seriously reconsidering it right now”
The next time you pranked him, you were indeed in the bathroom. This time you set his ipad on the sink to record while you take your phone out to open the timer, throwing something random in the bathroom making a loud noise before screaming “ow ow ow that hurts owwwww”
A few seconds later Haechan busts through the door with the most concerned look on his face
“What what what are you okay?” then you stopped whining to show the stopped timer to him
“5.43 seconds, that’s how long it took you to get here”
He still looked confused, looking around the bathroom then back to you. “What?” he ask
“Dude, you were too slow. I could’ve bleed out on the floor by then or like i don’t know drowned in the tub” you explained to your boyfriend who looked both lost and annoyed
“Okay then let’s do a re-do”
“Huh? That’s not how it works! Okay fine” he was already walking out the door and closing it, this time you did it again screaming one OW before he slams the door open acting alarmed.
You laughed at this, walking towards him to give him a hug. “You’re so cute, I love you” repeatedly kissing him on the cheek
“Glad I amuse you” he says, tangling his arms around your waist to lift you up “I really thought something happened. You and your silly tricks”
“Hey, it was a useful and harmless one”
“I almost had a heart attack, again”
“But you didn’t, now come let’s play Mario Kart”
After dating Haechan for some time, you learned not to disturb him when he’s playing games. When you just started dating, he still made sure to tone down his time playing when you’re around and always made sure all his attention is on you. But now after dating for almost 4 years, you give him some me time aka gaming time.
Cracking the door open to see him immersed in his game, probably playing with Chenle and Jeno since you heard him screaming their name not long ago. You sat on his bed, waiting for the perfect timing to start your next prank on him.
When it got quiet, you looked over to where he was sitting. He’s done playing and is now scrolling through his phone, standing up and walking towards him to commence the next plan.
Haechan wasn’t really surprised when you wiggled yourself between his desk and him, making yourself comfortable on his lap.
“Hey” you say to him, he already knew you were up to no good
“What is it this time?” he asks, setting his phone back down on his desk before resting his hands on your back. Your arms resting around his shoulders.
“I have a question and you have to answer honestly okay?”
“Okay?”
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
“Will I still love you if you were a worm?”
“Yep”
“But you’ll be a worm” Haechan’s not so sure how to thread this conversation safely, it’s either you’re pranking him or you’re really curious. It’s not really the first time you asked him such odd question.
“So you won’t love me anymore?” you asked again, a pout forming on your lips
“I mean... you’re a worm”
“Yea and? am I not your girlfriend anymore?”
“But you’ll be a worm, baby”
“Hyuckkkkk”
“I’ll get you a nice jar to live in so I can put you right here” he said, pointing at some random corner on his desk meanwhile you stare at him with a blank look
“Just a jar?”
“A nice tiny aquarium then”
“Okay then will you get a new girlfriend if I become a worm?”
“We both know there’s only one right answer to that but I’m trying to make sense of it” that earned him a hit on the chest
“Hey! You’re mean”
“You’re the one coming up with these weird questions” he says, taking the hand you hit him with and tangling it with his own.
“So, will you get me another worm to live with then?”
“Heck no, you’re my worm” that made you crack up, making Haechan smile at you too.
“You’re still the same. I can be a worm wiggling on the ground and you’d still be jealous if another worm wiggles towards me”
“Shut up, if you’re a worm then you’re my worm. End of discussion.”
“Now, will you still love me if I’m...”
“How many insects will you turn into this time?”
#tags#fic#nct#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct oneshot#nct fluff#nct boyfriend#nct haechan#haechan#lee haechan#lee donghyuck#hyuck#haechan imagine#haechan au#haechan boyfriend#.haechan oneshot#haechan scenario#haechan fic#nct 127#nct dream#.nct reco
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luke 2nd anniversary SSR, part one
so this is... Neither of the things i thought i was going do for tot anniversary, but here we are xD i just couldn’t resist after while watching the card story, and i’m having a lot of fun translating this!
disclaimer: this is a fan translation and i am not fluent in chinese, so keep in mind that there will be mistakes. feel free to let me know if you have questions, concerns, or comments.
do not repost without explicit permission. if you want to quote this or reference small parts of the translation, credit and link back to me.
check my masterlist for more translations.
timestamps go along with the card video here. it’s not mine, please support the uploader Axr by liking/commenting/subscribing.
[PART ONE]
[0:15] Luke's bedroom
On an ordinary day off, I went to Luke's house to do some general cleaning together.
After organizing the last drawer, I let out a long breath.
MC: That's about it... All that's left to clean is the bookcase.
Seeing Luke put the storage container into the storage room, I turned my gaze toward the bookcase.
Luke: Are you tired? Want to take a break?
MC: I'm not tired, are you? You're sweating so much, do you want to rest?
Luke: I've still got plenty of energy.
MC: Then why don't we finish all the cleaning "in one go", there's not much left anyway.
Luke: I'm fine with whatever! But if you feel tired, then you have to tell me.
MC: Alright.
Just as I started to take the files from the bookcase, I heard from beside me a sudden noise of "Ah!" from Luke.
Luke: That's right... I actually had something important to tell you today.
MC: What is it?
Luke: In two days it'll be the anniversary of my parents' death. We... ever since we've gotten together, I haven't found the right time to tell them about it. So this time, I want to...
MC: Okay. I happen to have time.
Before Luke finished speaking, I understood what he was asking.
MC: Now that I think about it, it's been a long time since we paid our respects to your parents.
Ever since Luke had been taken in by my parents, our whole family would visit their graves with him around this time every year, up until he went to study at the capitol.
Luke: Yeah... it's been so many years since I left, I don't know if mom and dad will blame me for not visiting them...
MC: You don't have to worry about that. These years I've been visiting their grave by myself. Even though I didn't get much news about during that time, I told them everything that I did know.
Luke: Thank you, MC.
MC: Don't be so polite! I was happy to do it.
Luke: ...
Luke furrowed his brow, however.
Luke: You say it was fine, but your parents weren't there either. It's been hard for you, being all by yourself these past years.
MC: I wouldn't say it was hard, it's just that when mom and dad left too, sometimes... I would feel a bit lonely...
Before, when my parents and Luke were all still here, visiting their graves had left some warm memories. I remembered Mom and Dad would talk about old times of the four of them. I would also secretly observe Luke's expression, which was always calm.
MC: Later when I stood alone in front of the tombstone, I'd always feel so sad...
Luke: For these past years.... thank you.
Luke hugged me gently.
Luke: But look! I'm back now, aren't I? I'm sure that we'll still have lots of time for reunions in the future. This time, let's visit my parents together, with your parents' kind regards as well.
MC: Yeah!
At that, Luke couldn't help but smile, as if he thought of a cheerful memory.
MC: What are you smiling about?
Luke: Nothing. I just remembered how every time I mentioned my mom, your mom would often recite that poem – “The greatest good, or greatest evil – it’s just what the sorry soul is after. Whether suffering, or celebration – because it burns for the sake of burning.”
Luke's tone sounded a bit sentimental, and his expression had turned soft and serene.
Luke: She said that this was my mom's favorite poem. When I was born, she even sang it for me as a lullaby.
MC: Yeah, and I remember that Mom said your mom was someone who "burned brightly". Whether it was work, life, or emotions, as long as it was something that she wanted to do, then she was certain to give it her all. There was no way she'd leave behind any regrets for herself. She was amazing!
Luke: She was. So since I was a kid, I'd say that poem a lot, over and over again. It was like she was still with me...
I continued to clean as I listened to Luke's words.
Suddenly, I felt something hard in the corner of the bookcase.
MC: (What's this?)
I took out the object and found it was a spherical metal box with a small bird engraved on top.
MC: (Huh? The bird on top of it... looks like Peanut? And judging by the shape of the box... it looks like a handmade ring box?) Luke, did you make this?
I curiously handed the box over next to me to Luke. Originally reminiscing over the past, he suddenly paused.
Luke: ...! Oh... That, yes, I made that...
Luke hastily took the ring box from me and conveniently stuffed it into a drawer next to him.
Luke: I just made it randomly, don't worry about it.
MC: ???
I watched the person in front of me struggle to return to normal. For a moment just now, he really did show an abnormal nervousness and panic.
MC: (What's going on with Luke? Did I ask a question I shouldn't have asked? Should I ask and make sure...)
CHOICE: Keep asking OR Don't ask
[KEEP ASKING]
Thinking over it again, I decided to ask and clarify it.
MC: Luke, did I ask a question I shouldn't have? Is this ring box very important to you? Are you planning something?
Hearing my inquiries, Luke was initially confused, then shook his head.
Luke: What would I be planning? This ring box is a prop that I used for a previous mission, there's nothing special about it.
MC: Oh, I had thought...
Luke: Hm?
MC: It's nothing, I just saw that Peanut was on the box, so I had thought that this box had something to do with us.
Luke froze slightly, as if I had hit the nail right on the head.
Luke: No-- That's not -- I--
[DON’T ASK] from this video
MC: (This ring box is very exquisite, it doesn’t seem like something he just randomly made. Maybe Luke already has some kind of plan, and it would make things hard for him if I kept asking about it. I’d better wait until Luke wants to talk about it.) Luke…
Just as I was about to change the topic, I saw Luke staring at the drawer with a lonely expression on his face, lost in thought. It was only when I began to speak that he suddenly seemed to come to his senses.
Luke: No-- That's not -- I--
Luke: No-- That's not -- I--
But after a while of stuttering, he ended up falling silent.
MC: (Luke's acting weird... Is there something he's worried about?)
Just as I was about to ask again, Luke beat me to it and returned to normal. He reached out to pinch my cheek, nimbly avoiding the topic.
Luke: Alright, that's enough, let's keep cleaning.
MC: ...Okay.
Soon, we finished cleaning. Although I tried multiple times to bring up the ring box, Luke avoided me every time with his jokes and chatter. It weighed on my mind, and the uneasiness and confusion in my heart grew heavier and heavier. It was clear that I wouldn't get an answer from Luke, but I thought of another person -- Aaron Yishmir.
[6:10] Hospital Corridor
After making an excuse to leave Luke, I headed straight toward Stellis Public Hospital. When I arrived, Aaron had just finished a consultation.
Aaron: MC**, why are you here alone? Where's Luke?
MC: Aaron, I'm here to ask about Luke.
Aaron: Luke? Did something happen?
Aaron froze at my words, his expression turning serious.
Aaron: No, there shouldn't have. His last mission already finished smoothly, and his healthy is pretty stable.
MC: No... Actually, it's...
I told Aaron everything that had happened at Luke's house.
-
Aaron fell silent after hearing what I had to say.
MC: Aaron, what's Luke...
Aaron sighed deeply.
Aaron: MC, unless I'm wrong, then that ring box should be meant for you.
MC: Me???
For a moment, countless thoughts flashed through my mind.
Aaron: Yeah. As for why Luke won't tell you... He has difficulties that he doesn't talk about. That day, I had to send some information to Luke, so I went to an address that he gave me...
[Flashback]
[7:35] Log Cabin
One month earlier.
Aaron: Luke, Luke, you couldn't have picked an easier place to find? I'm surprised you were able to find somewhere so out-of-the-way.
The wind blew in as Aaron stepped into the small log cabin, seeing Luke bent over working on something under the guidance of an elderly man. On the table before him was a thin piece of rose gold. One of his hands held the metal letter stamp, and his other hand was lightly tapping a small hammer against it. After a moment, the letter "D" appeared on the slender piece of rose gold.
Aaron: Hey, not bad, Luke.
???: This young man is quite gifted.
At that, Luke raised his head and introduced the elderly man beside him to Aaron.
Luke: Aaron, this is master Chen, one of Stellis's best jewelry craftsmen.
Aaron surveyed the two of them with a hint of shock in his eyes.
Aaron: Jewelry? What jewelry?
Luke pursed his lips, not speaking. Next to them, master Chen didn't notice Luke's change in behavior and answered Luke was able to.
Master Chen: It's a ring. This young man has put in quite a lot of effort into this, he's been coming back here almost half a year now. In that half year, no matter how many times he failed, he never gave up. At first I had thought this was just a passing interest for him, I didn't think he'd persevere this long.
Luke: Master Chen...
Master Chen: Hahaha, alright, I'll stop. You guys talk, I'll go pour you guys some tea.
Master Chen nodded toward Aaron, then turned and left.
Aaron: Say, Luke, you're just making a ring, aren't you skilled enough that you don't need teacher?
Aaron approached Luke and spoke quietly.
Aaron: And didn't you already make one before? Why are you making another one?
Luke: The one before was too crude. I wanted to make a better one, so I went to master Chen.
Aaron: Crude... better one...
Aaron froze for a moment, then immediately beamed in delight.
Aaron: Wait. Luke, is there about to be a very happy occasion? 'Fess up, are you getting ready to propose to MC?
Luke: ...
After hearing Aaron's words, however, Luke gripped the unfinished ring in his hands and lowered his eyes, unspeaking.
Aaron: What's with that expression?
Luke: Aaron... I won't propose to her.
Aaron: You won't? Why?
Luke: You know my current condition. If I can't confirm whether I can continue to live... it's too selfish to propose to her.
Aaron: Then why did you make this ring?
Luke: I...
Luke averted his gaze, subconsciously avoiding the question.
Aaron sighed helplessly.
Aaron: At first I had thought that you’d be happier once you got together with her, but after all this time, you still haven’t changed one bit. Luke, I understand what you’re saying, and I can’t convince you otherwise. I’ll just ask you one question: have you really… never, not once, thought about proposing to her?
Luke gave a pained expression and was silent for a long while. Finally, he gently shook his head.
Luke: Aaron, I’m actually already much happier now. I’m not as pessimistic as before, and I have hopes for the future too. Maintaining the current situation… I’m already very satisfied with that. …I know her too well, so I can’t bind her up in an engagement.
Aaron: But are you content, Luke?
Luke: I…
Luke spread out his hand. The unfinished ring in his palm already answered that for him.
Luke: That’s enough, Aaron. I’m just making the right decision.
[end flashback]
After Aaron finished speaking, we were silent for a moment. I had obtained the truth that I wanted, but not only was I not relieved, for a moment my thoughts were in total disarray.
MC: (So it turns out that ring really was made for me… But Luke…)
Joy and heartache mingled together into a pain in my chest, and in my mind I saw how Luke looked when making the ring.
Aaron: MC, I never should have interfered with you and Luke. Both the ring and proposal are personal matters between the two of you. But… agh, just consider this me being selfish. Luke isn’t just my patient, I think of him as my brother. He isn’t willing to say it, but it hurts me to see. And I think you also have the right to know about this, don’t you?
MC: Aaron, thank you for telling me all of this.
Aaron: Hey, don’t thank me. I should be the one apologizing to you guys, for meddling so much in this. MC, now that you know everything, what are you going to do?
MC: I haven’t decided yet… I never knew that Luke has been worrying about our future the entire time. If I pretended to not know, would that put Luke more at ease? But… when I think about Luke’s mindset when making that ring, I feel like doing nothing isn’t an option.
Aaron: MC, you don’t need to harsh on yourself. I’ll support you two regardless of what decision you and Luke make.
Aaron nodded toward me with sincere support in his eyes. I gradually calmed down.
MC: Aaron, I’ve long since decided to continue down this path together with Luke. No matter what he’s worried about, I won’t let him endure it alone. In two days, Luke and I are going to pay our respects together. Maybe that will be a good opportunity.
[13:34] Luke’s bedroom
The busy day was finally over, and at night Luke returned to his room. Right as he was about to sit down, suddenly his phone rang.
Luke: Aaron? It’s late, do you need something?
Aaron: Luke, I…
The phone was silent for a bit.
Luke: What’s with you? Why are you mumbling?
Aaron: I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m here to apologize.
Luke: Apologize?
Aaron: This afternoon, MC came to ask me about the ring, and I told her everything.
Luke: Aaron, how could you –
Aaron: I’m sorry, Luke. I know it wasn’t for me to say. If you want to yell at me, I won’t resist.
Luke: What’s the point in yelling at you now… Aaron, you’re well aware, once she knows about that…
Aaron: I understand everything that you’re saying. But even if I understand it, I can’t just watch you be like this. Luke, I’m selfish too. I want you to be happy too.
Luke: … Aaron, I’ve already told you, I’m very happy right now. I’m… very satisfied.
Aaron: If you were really satisfied, then why spend so much effort making a ring?
Luke: I…
Luke had no rebuttal.
Aaron: Luke, why don’t you just take this chance to tell her all of your thoughts, your pain, your conflicts. Listen to what she thinks, and give yourself a chance too, alright?
Luke: …I can’t. I know her, and as long as I ask, she’ll definitely say yes. That’s exactly why I have to hide this from her
Aaron: And you? Is everything that you’ve invested just not important?
Luke: Aaron, stop trying to persuade me. This time I won’t change my mind, no matter what.
Without waiting for Aaron’s response, Luke ended the call. Subconsciously, however, he still retrieved that ring box from the drawer. After pressing lightly on the small bird, the box opened. The diamond on the ring sparkled in the light.
Luke: …
As if he thought of something, Luke began to smile softly.
Luke: When I was making this, I thought to myself… I’m sure it’ll suit you. I even thought about what kind of expression you’d have if you received this ring…
Luke’s smile slowly faded away. His next words sounded like he didn’t have the strength to continue talking.
Luke: There was one thing that Aaron was right about. How could I… not think about proposing to you? I’m human too. Even if I do everything I can do suppress my emotions, there are still times when I lose control… But I can’t do that.
Luke gradually curbed his expressions.
Luke: This time… Even if it’s you, I won’t change my intentions.
[END PART ONE]
[PART TWO]
*The quote unlocks a Big Data Lab entry about the poem, listed under the poem’s name (《节庆后回家》 “Going Home After Festivities”). EDIT: The original poem is “Heimweg vom Fest” by Hermann Hesse. You can read the poem here in its original German, or in English and French translation. I talk about the poem more in this post, but it contains spoilers for the rest of this card.
**Aaron refers to MC using a term for your sister-in-law, the wife of your younger brother (or someone close enough to be one). He used this at the end of Luke's Blossom personal story chapter 4 as well.
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••• Unprofessional | tarlos
For: @tarlosweeklyprompts weekly prompt “I want to see you in that and nothing else.”
Pairing: Tarlos | Rating: Explicit | Warning: morning sex, m x m smut, smut, sex, anal sex, anal fingering, boys in love, soft sex, established carlos reyes x tk strand
Summary: The morning before TK became Carlos’ “friend from work”
Author's Note: I haven’t had the chance to write a weekly prompt lately so I decided to try this week! I had something else planned for this but then I saw a gifset and then @beautifulhigh said “So I'm thinking either morning wood or joining the other in the shower, but either way they're still more than a little blissed out from the night before and…” and then they said “Just don't think of TK still loose and slick from the night before” and this is what came of it. I hope you enjoy it! I personally feel like this has fallen flat but that might just be me lol.
For @beautifulhigh and all of the fic's she encourages me to write.
Nobody has permission to save, translate, repost, upload, or do anything with my fics. My fics are only posted on AO3, if you see them on any other site such as wattpad please let me know. This story was written for an adult audience and is intended for adult consumption. If you are under the age of 18, you should not be reading this story.
-
“You know, if I was your friend from work then what we did this morning was very unprofessional.”
______________________
Sunlight filters through the half-closed curtains, warming TK’s face as he slowly starts to wake for the day. He lets out a content sigh, body relaxed in Carlos’ arms. He smiles to himself, knowing that he would never get tired of waking up in Carlos’ arms and snuggling in his soft sheets.
TK shifts slightly, letting out a soft groan as his muscles make it known just how sore he is from the night before. He doesn’t mind, though, he was pretty okay with having a slight ache run through his body while thinking about all of the positions Carlos had got him in and how many times his boyfriend had made him come - he hadn’t even known he could come that many times but he knows that he wants to try and beat that number.
His cock lays heavily against his thigh, and while he could take care of it he lets it be for the moment, wanting to just exist in Carlos’ arms. Besides, with Carlos’ own morning wood pressing against his ass, he knows that they’ll take care of each other when Carlos wakes up.
READ MORE ON AO3
tags: @strangefurychaos @ronensass @sapphire11 @malexsoulmates @angeltk @noxsoulmate @sivan325 @beautifulhigh @welcometololaland @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain
#chaotic fics#tarlos#tk strand x carlos reyes#tk strand#carlos reyes#911 lone star#911 ls#911 lone star fic#911VerseFic#911fanficblog#usercassi#bubblesandroses8#rafael silva#911 lonestar#ronen rubinstein#tarlosweeklyprompts
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If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.
So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.
If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.
"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.
To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)
We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."
From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.
And there, my friends, is the issue.
If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.
"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.
"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)
"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.
I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.
Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.
Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.
"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.
"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).
The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.
That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.
If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.
"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)
“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.
"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.
"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.
"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!
"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!
"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.
"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)
"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.
"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.
"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.
“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)
“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.
"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.
Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.
So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.
I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.
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Hi! I’m that wattpad account that reposted your story a couple of days ago. I just wanted to clarify that I never intended to steal or take credit for any of your work. To be completely honest I reposted your story on my account because I wanted to benefit from wattpads offline feature where it still feels like an actual ebook while you read. I was on a trip without data but still wanted to read your fanfiction. My idea was to post it, read it and once I got back home or had a stable connection, delete the story. I didn’t think you or anyone else would find it. Also when I uploaded it I didn’t use a summary or tried to get attention from anyone . I really thought I could just read it and delete it within a week without anyone noticing. I’m new to your fanfiction and now I see you state multiple times that you do not like people reposting your work anywhere without exception which I can understand. I’m very sorry for reposting your work. I never wanted to offend you or make it seem like it was mine. As I said I didn’t think anyone would find it within those couple of days. I also didn’t read any of the messages since like I said I didn’t have any connection until now. Now I realize I should’ve copied the story on an online platform that was only open to me and not the public. I hope you can forgive me. I can imagine how much work and effort you put on your stories. They’re great btw. I really enjoyed Sincerely Not. I’m also sorry you had to waste your time by filling out 2 DMCA complains. It would mean a lot to me if you could accept my apology. I think what you’re doing is great and you’re a great writer and I never wanted to take that credit away from you.
to be honest, all i wanted was for you to reach out and apologize bc i’m not really one to stay mad at people for too long. had you explained this to me or had you asked for my permission prior, i wouldn’t have been so upset to find out that my entire series was reposted on another site with no credit whatsoever. but regardless, reposting is not okay. of course my readers did what they think is right and requested for you to take it down, but we weren’t getting a response for days and my story only got taken down bc of the DMCA complaints i’ve filed.
i get that you wanted to read it offline, but there are various ways to access my fic that way. since it seems that you already had the entire fic copied somewhere, you could have just pasted it on google docs or pages, that way you can keep it to yourself and you can read it privately.
anyway, i appreciate that you’ve reached out and i just really wanna forget this happened. be careful next time and i’m sorry if there were hurtful things sent your way — that’s mostly bc the reposted fic affected my updating schedule and almost made me think twice of posting the latest chapter. but all is good now. and thank you for reading sincerely not!
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could you do a pt 2 of the 'he was big, and strong, and his eyes a flaming glow' with deku and shinso please 😳
big and strong (2)
(tiktok trend)
character(s) : midoriya izuku, shinsou hitoshi
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk not mentioned
headcanon type : fluffish-crack and the mildest of spice
note(s) : i’m gonna fix the navigation and masterlists bc it looks REALLY messy rn. and i’m probably going to make a class 1-a x reader masterlist (after i post something later though)
»»————- ♡ ————-««

midoriya izuku
you wouldn’t really force izuku to do things like tiktok challenges, because man is working his ass off constantly— so he’s not really on tiktok
but man, your boyfriend is so FINE. izuku midoriya is you just wanted him to do it once, and then never again.
so you immediately go searching for izuku one day, and you find him just chilling in his room.
“oh hi sweetheart! how are you?”
“izuku, could you please do me a favor, just this once?”
izuku, not being opposed to literally any favor you’ve thrown at him so far, was eager to help “sure thing Y/N, what do you want me to do?”
then you show him the video, and he’s like brb.. loading!
he was shook. you want him to do THAT?
okay, and while he already said yes in his mind— he needs a few hours to just think about it. wanting to process what he’s about to do
a few hours later, he comes back to you. “i think.. i’m ready to do it!”
in the first clip, he looked REALLY nerdy omg. you’d never expect him to have literal GAINS under that sweatshirt of his
and in the second clip, he looked so confident?? i mean,, izuku worked hard for that form of his, so he’s not really afraid to show his muscles
but when you’re looking at him like that, while you’re hyping him up— he’ll turn red definitely
the tiktok immediately ends, and you’re just fawning over him, and how he did so good is he in heaven?
then a few moments later, you upload the video— not thinking too much about it because you were about to sleep
but you immediately wake up with your phone EXPLODING with notifications, and you’re just like 👁👁 the video got 350k likes and nearly 1M views
the comments were fawning over him “HE’S NERDY AND MUSCULAR GUYS!!” “where diD YOU GET HIM??” “his freckles. that’s the comment.”
you show izuku the video’s results “izuku, the video did well!”, and he’s just :00 and 👁///👁
“people like me :0”
no, he doesn’t read the comments because they just.. don’t click with him. he’s flattered, but they don’t come from you
“i a-appreciate it but, those comments aren’t from you so..”
SNXJAJSSK i love him
oh and if he was bold enough, he’d literally reply to one of those bold comments with a video of him kissing you with his all 💀

shinsou hitoshi
he’s on tiktok, but he doesn’t look at every single video that’s on his fyp. so the chances of him knowing this challenge is a 50/50
ever since he started training and preparing for the hero course, he became a lot more toned.
and you don’t really force shinsou to do challenges with you bc what are the chances he already knew of them anyway-
but your boyfriend is attractive attractive. you just want him and his seggsy ass to do it just once
so— during one of your hangouts together, you bring it up. “can you do this, hitoshi?”
and he’s like 🙄 not again *feining annoyance*
then he watches the video, and hitoshi’s just SMIRKING at you, as if the video was funny whdnwndka “so you want me to do it?”
“please?”
okay, so since you said please, he’s gonna do it “fine, since you asked so nicely” even if you didn’t, he’d still do it especially after seeing that curious expression on your face
you were just sitting in the back while he filmed the tiktok, the first clip making him look busted as hell
and in the second clip, you were APPALLED by his gainz and muscles
after filming the tiktok, you speak “hitoshi, wtf are you so hot?”
with the corner of his lips turning up slightly, he pulls you closer to him.
you posted the tiktok before you went to bed, and just left it at that. but hitoshi being a literal insomniac, HEARD your tiktok notifications going off
he just placed your phone on silent though, not wanting to disturb you
the next day, you check the tiktok— and it has 600k likes and 900k views within the first 8 hours.
the comments were a mix of “DAMNN AND HE HAS EYEBAGS TOO!” “his hands. that is all,” “i wasn’t expecting that 😳” and “LMAO THEIR FACE IN THE BACKGROUND” “if i was dating him, i’d be shook too.”
shook, you show your boyfriend “hitoshi, you’re famous. how did you not hear the notifications?”
“i did,” he chuckled as he went to look at the results of his tiktok, an arm slinged across your shoulders— looking slightly impressed by the video’s results
he could care less about the simp comments, like.. thanks but they are not anywhere near the compliments that come from you
but when the comments are talking about taking HIM from YOU, he decided to be petty— and respond to one of those comments with a video of him squished in between your thighs 😳 as he should tbh
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, repost, modify, or use my works for audio readings without my permission :))
#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha x y/n#bnha fluff#mha fluff#midoriya x y/n#midoriya izuku x y/n#midoriya izuku x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya imagines#shinsou imagines#shinsou hitoshi x reader#shinsou x y/n#shinsou x you#shinsou hitoshi x y/n#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons
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