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theoddest1 · 4 months

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Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.

TW /// SA

- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED

- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.

- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"

- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows

"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"

This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.

- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.

Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul

Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.

How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.

This episode is terrible

Jarring for any newcomers

Who have no idea who these characters are

#vivziepop critical #hazbin critical #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel husk #vivziepop criticism

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littlemspeachy · 1 month

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Crazy To Love You

(Feyd x Reader)

Summary: You hated him. You hated his planet. You were the sun and the stars. Of warmth and gold. Yet, for some reason, you do find black appealing.

Note: While this is a reader insert, there are mentions of brown skin, but other than that, it's fairly neutral

Warnings: 18+ content near the end but nothing explicit, mentions of blood and use of the word whore.

Word Count: 2.35K

Part II

---------

Everyone said there was something complex about him. About the man you were about to marry. In her opinion, there was nothing complex about the man. He was easy to figure out and it didn't take a shrink to realize that. He was violent and cold. Obsessed with blood and the cries of a man he knew he was about to kill.

He was nothing special and yet here you were getting ready to get sent away.

"You are to marry him." Lady Jessica coolly responded while she watched your maids put the finishing jewelry into your hair and bodice.

You stared at her from the reflection of your vanity mirror.

"You don't get better than this. You're a daughter of your fathers' whore-" She started angrily.

"Get out of my head. The least you could do is that." You snapped before the Reverend Mother walked through the door.

"I don't understand how you managed to raise such a disobedient child," The older woman dragged.

"And child I don't understand how you could be so stupid." She said smacking you on the back of your head.

You sighed and stared at yourself in the mirror before applying lining your lips with a soft brown and filling the rest of the empty space with a dark red. And no, you weren't stupid to not know what was going on. Lady Jessica messed up and bore a son and so in the eyes of the Reverend Mother, you were the best choice. You were still of the Duke's blood and by marrying the na-baron and producing an heir you would bring the houses together and create a perfect union. You knew this, you knew this ever since you came of age. You knew it more and more in every etiquette lesson.

Raised like cattle for slaughter. Or not slaughter but more so for breeding.

A knock on your chambers broke you from your thought process, you looked to your door to see your brother peek into the room.

"He's here."

You sent the young man a small smile before standing and heading out with Lady Jessica and the Reverend.

Your ladies-in-waiting walked silently behind you with your luggage in hand. They too knew of the rumors of the man you were bound to marry. The grotesque nature of his uncle and family.

The warmth of the sun warmed your skin, but it didn't seem to reach past it. You had known these halls all your life. Stared at the paintings and art that decorated the walls. You'll miss the yellow of the sun that allowed your brown to become even richer in the warmer months.

When you were younger your nursed like to joke that if there were goddesses you had to have been the child of the sun. Unfortunately, today proved that no such being existed because why would she curse her child to a polluted waste land with a sun as black as night.

They arrived at large doors to the negotiation room. Guards of both families lining the walls. You followed the two older women into the room while your ladies-in-waiting stayed outside.

You sat next to Paul and across from your husband to be.

Feyd was... Not stunned no. Not amused either. He had heard about you as a child and adolescent and even met you at some point in those years. Yet here he was, intrigued. You looked almost entirely out of place and in place at the same time. He could tell you were strong willed, but then again, any man in the room could tell that.

You sat with your back straight and head high. Your eye's moved to each person as they spoke.

As much as he would never admit it. You were beautiful. Not seductive, not sensual. You were beautiful. You're skin complimentary to the gold in your hair and the gold threads in your bodice. Your skin shined in the lazy afternoon sun. Your lips plump and decorated in red. You were stunning.

"Then it is settled. You two will be wed by the next full moon," Feyds uncle rasped, a greedy smile upon his lips while he stared at you intently.

"Come it is getting late and we must make our way back. Have her maids put her items on our ship. There's to be a solar disturbance. And I don't want to be here longer than I need to, this heat is starting to annoy me."

You swallowed intensely. "No."

All eyes snapped to you. Feyd tilted his head slightly to the side in curiosity. 'A fighter' he mused. This should be interested.

"I have never been Giedi Prime, and since I am to be married in a week, I would like my family to join me, a proper wedding, and an introduction to your culture and customs. There is more than enough time to organize my request." You stared at the two leading men at the table. Inside you were shaking and fearing the worse. While you still had enough status to marry into a High Family, it didn't take away the fact that you were born out of wedlock. But fortunately, your voice stayed strong and didn't betray your nerves.

Lady Jessica started to open her mouth to reprimand her but was cut off by laughter. Well, it was more of a bark but humor present, nonetheless.

"I agree to your terms, child." Feyd's uncle said staring at you.

"I do not understand." Lady Jessica muttered staring at you in horror.

"This will either be the greatest match in all the high families. Or the worst thing to come from your House."

You bite the inside of your cheek, jaw flaring. The handshakes and contracts were signed.

You walked silently and quickly to the informal meeting place of your home. Maids scrambling to get other items for your family and to leave promptly. Lady Jessica hot on your tail and delivered a quick slap to your face when you turned around.

"How dare you embarrass us like this."

"Not to intrude on family... matters... But as she is my bride, I'd prefer if you don't leave marks on her. That should be my job soon enough." A voice said boredly.

She whipped her head to look behind her and stared at the pale man behind her. Before gritting her teeth, giving a small curtsy and walking out quickly.

"It's impolite for us to be together without a chaperone." You stated. Eyes following his every move. You didn't trust him. How could you? He was a bloody murder, that craved blood and bones. You would consider him uncivilized if it wasn't for the fact that he came from a royal bloodline.

"Hmm, you see something you like?"

You squeezed your dress in your hand to stop you from being annoyed and rolling your eyes.

"You know I heard you were sweet. Demure. But you seem to like a fight."

"A fight that was not, my lord. Just a request. I am to be whisked away to a place where I am nobody and have no rights outside of you. So yes, requesting my family and have a civil wedding, is the most basic request."

He gave you a smirk. Him slowly getting close to you, almost like a snake. "You sure are mouthy, I hope it's the same on our wedding night." He whispered, closely to your ear.

His hot breath sending a chill up your spine. You watched him walk past you to the window. He was incredibly pale and hairless. No blemish or scar in sight. Was that genetics or cosmetic you would never know. How dark was it on his planet to make someone so pale? Paul was pale, but his skin warmed and tanned during the warmer months.

You glowed in the sun; you understood the sun. The sun gave light, it gave colors. A black sun... Would strip things of light. Nothing exists in a sun like that.

The reality of your situation started to bare its weight on your shoulders. You knew why they needed the marriage to work, you knew why you needed to produce an heir. It would create an alliance forged in blood, it would tie your two kingdoms together and prevented them from going to war. It would protect your kingdoms economy and exports. But why a place so cold in dark. How were you to live? To raise a child or children. How were you going to raise your children. With dreams and fantasies of a kingdom they'll never know. Shall they become their father? Murderous and craving madness and death?

You let in a deep breath, to help settle you. You were to be married and have a child. That's it. You were raised to do so and do it you will. Nothing more, nothing less.

"We are ready for departure your majesties." A voice rang through the room.

You nodded at the man before taking a look back at Feyd and realizing that he's been staring at you the whole time.

The next few days were spent learning about their "castle", which in your opinion was a bland fortress meant to keep people out and in. The days were spent watching bloody sparring matches in preparation for his big fight and preparing for the wedding.

Skin was cleaned and body was scrubbed clean. Herbs and foods to increase fertility feed three times a day. Lessons on how to "please a man" in way too much detail. Nothing like what you expected your wedding day to look like. When you were younger you imagined white dresses and days of getting to know your soon to be husband by the waves. Intimate and flushed glances at each other over dinner. Excitement and butterflies. And all there was to greet you was darkness. Black suns and pale heads greeted you at every corner. You prayed your child you look more like you. Or at least a mix.

You woke up to the sound of your sun alarm. You're glad you brought it with you. It imitated actual sun light and reminded you of home and warmth. You cuddled back into the pillows when you realized your maids weren't there. Breakfast and a long intensive bath could wait. You hardly did anything and yet had intensive baths every morning and night. After five days you were surprised, you had any skin left.

Feyd watched you silently doze off again, perched away in a corned you have not seem to realize. He chuckled lightly at the last time you fully conversed. 'Not polite.' What he was going to do in one days' time wouldn't be very polite to her parents either.

He watched you as you walked softly to the vanity you had set up in your room. It was simply a desk and a small mirror, but it worked for what it was. For what you had access too.

You hummed lightly to yourself as you took your scarf off your head and took out the rollers. The maids given to you had no idea what they were doing when it came to your hair. It was the last thing that you had for yourself... Only yourself.

Feyd walked over silently, almost leaning down to your ear whipping backwards and grabbing your wrist.

No words were said, outside of the sound of heavy breathing.

The two of you stared intensely at each other before the man's eyes wondered over to the knife in your hand. Sharp and ready to sink into the next victim.

He raised what you assumed would've been a brow if he wasn't hairless.

"Did you intend to kill me."

"It didn't matter if it was you. The knife was intended for whomever decided to get that close to me without out announcing themselves." You spat.

He smirked at you, "So you do know how to take care of yourself."

"My father didn't raise a stupid damsel."

"Very clearly he didn't."��

You two stared at each other before he went and bite your collarbone. A guttural groan coming from his throat as he smelt your rose body oils from the night before.

You gasped, shocked, your hand dropping the knife and your body arching towards his. A surprising mix of sharp pain and pleasure dancing through your body to your fingertips.

"I thought you hated me?" He whispered grabbing your chin and forcing you to keep eye contact.

Truth be told as much as you hated his home, his planet, the whole preparation of practically being wedded purely for alliance reasons. You got used to the idea of being his.

He was smart and quick on his feet. Intelligent and willing to amuse your intellectual ideas. He let you fight him and berate him when you were alone. He guarded you and defended you. And he was taken with you the moment he met you. Many women were raised to be obedient, silent, and just take what was given to them. If he was going to become the Baron one day he'd need a woman that was going to raise his children to be strong. Your union was perfect, anything that he lacked you had.

"I hate you invading my space. If you wanted to come you could've asked or at least told me." You stated. A terrible and needy heat starting to fill your body.

He smirked at you before crashing your lips together. Teeth and tongue clashing in a battle of dominance. His hands threading through your hair and yours finally getting the relief of feeling his body.

You broke away to breath, head being lifted by the upwards pull of your hair.

"I would love to continue this but, this is impolite, remember." He said breathlessly, backing up slowly.

You stared back at him. Becoming painfully aware of the want in your core and the electricity running through your body needing release.

"Fuck you."

Feyd laughed at your temper tantrum before leaving your room and leaving you to deal with the mess he started.

#fanfic #dune x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x you #black reader

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fan-fan-tastic · 1 year

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MEME FULFILLED PROPHECY

Despite being a mass of potholes and quite repetitive, PIDW is very popular, popular enough to have a community of fans. This means not only having fanart, fics and even merchandise, but also an entire culture, with fandom lore and yes, even memes.

One of those was “When Mobei-Jun gets married” it was used to indicate something that would never happen, like “when hell will freeze over” or “when pigs will fly”. It was so popular that there were even some variants, like “it happen at Mobei-Jun’s wedding” or “when Airplane marries Mobei-Jun off”

Shen Yuan really liked this meme because it was supported by canon: there had been several scenes where after a fight, Luo Binghe would look over the spoils and let his right hand man pick a boon. Despite the ever-present trembling maidens, Mobei-Jun would always pick a weapon, or in an instance an ancient relic that had once belonged to his clan. So yeah, Shen Yuan used it pretty often, once he even let it slip out IRL, but luckily no one got the reference.

He even used it once in a thread that went viral: it was a pointless debate over OP’s incorrect interpretation of an arc. Shen Yuan was clearly right, he even had quoted several chapters to prove his point and so the other user had resorted to personal insults. OP had typed something like “You are ridiculous! When will you admit that you are actually a fan of the novel and not an hater?!” To which Shen Yuan had responded with “When Mobei-Jun gets married”

Now, this should have ended the discussion in Shen Yuan’s favor: the meme usually got lots of likes regardlessly of the context, and so he would have won the debate.

But OP for reason had decided to tag Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky himself. “Great Master Airplane, would you marry Mobei-Jun if it means getting Peerless Cucumber admitting that he likes your story?”

To everyone’s surprise the author (sleep deprived an high on caffeine and energy drinks) actually did answer “Damn, I would marry Mobei-Jun for free”.

True to his writing style Airplane dropped the bomb to never addressed it again. That comment had started another meme, although less popular than the other about Mobei-Jun having been married the whole time to the author himself and the ship AirplaneXMobei became the most popular for the character. There few fans that had written crackfics had been insufferable about it, even resurrecting the ‘I shipped X before it was cool’ format just to flex.

After transmigrating into the scum villain and masterfully avoiding the original good’s fate, Shen Yuan one day receives an invitation to a wedding, accompanied by a mission by the System that just says ‘True to your word: User must respect the vow he once made’. Shen Yuan immediately understands what this is about: he would rather jump into the Endless Abyss than do that.

#I am obsessed by #the lost memes of PIDW #that book must have been a mine of memes #and its community pretty toxic #imagine the DRAMA #not sure if we were robbed or spared #but I still would like to know more #svsss #headcanon time #pidw #Shen Yuan #peerless cucumber #shen quingqiu #airplane shooting towards the sky #Shang Qinghua #Mobei Jun #moshang #somehow?

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forthewomenonly · 8 months

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Don't Make a Sound

A/n: @alexkolax I love you Warnings: NSFW, smut, GAYS, Tara Carpenter x reader, Tara Carpenter x fem reader (implied, no pronouns used. the word girlfriend is used), sub Tara, overstimulation

Tara was feeling petty, resting her head on Chad's shoulder as her eyes try to focus on the movie playing and not on her uncharacteristically quiet girlfriend.

When the twins and Sam suggested a movie night, you and Tara were quick to agree.

Yet here you both are, in a piss-poor mood watching the movie while sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

The argument was stupid, over who got to pick the movie. Of course it was your turn. Tara had forced you to sit through The Babadook the last three movie nights!

Naturally, the ever stubborn person she is, Tara didn't back down, leaving Mindy to choose some random movie you couldn't care less about.

Eventually, Mindy was curled into the armrest, Chad with his head thrown back, snoring beside Tara, and Sam, sprawled out in an armchair, leaving just you and Tara awake.

Tara would be lying if she said the sight of you all aggravated and frustrated didn't get her excited. But she had a point to prove, so she opted to ignore those unsavoury feelings in order to plead her case. However, now that everyone else is asleep and she can see you in the dimly lit room: jaw set, eyes glued to the screen, and legs spread comfortably...the feeling of her unfulfilled desire comes crashing back into her. The uncomfortable heat between her legs not something she can ignore any longer. "Y/n..." Tara whispers, moving to sit closer to you on the couch.

"Hm?" You hum in response, turning to look at her.

She takes a moment to wisely think over her words. Staying silent she drapes herself over your body, straddling your lap. "I'm sorry" she whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving to kiss along your jaw. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah..." she sighs, rocking her hips into her lap. Softly gasping when she feels her clit rub against the seam of her pants. "Mindy, Chad, and your sister are in the room." you say, stilling her hips and pushing her off of you.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Tara looks up at you suggestively. "But I can be quiet..."

"You absolutely cannot Tar." You snort, still leaning over her and kissing down her throat despite your apprehension.

Excitedly taking off her shirt and reaching down to take off her pants, you grab her hands, stopping her. "What are you so afraid of?" Tara challenges, whispering loudly.

"Sam catching us and beating the shit out of me." you say rolling your eyes.

"Pussy." She mutters, moving to sit up. Suddenly you're reminded of your previous aggravation and your hand is wrapped around her throat in the blink of an eye.

Tara whimpers, her tongue darting out to wet her plump lips. "S-so are you gonna do it then...g-gonna fuck me now?" She sputters out teasingly, her face flushed red.

You don't answer, instead you pull her pants down to her ankles, pushing her panties to the side and abruptly licking a stripe up her sopping wet heat. Tara moans loudly and you pull away as soon as she does, scanning the room to see if she had woken anyone up.

"If you can't stay quiet we're stopping. I will stop every time I hear a loud noise from you, do you understand?"

She nods her head quickly, threading her fingers in your hair trying to push you closer to her. You generously oblige, pressing your warm muscle into her twitching pussy.

She gasps, arching into your face. Tara's fingers scratch against your scalp, urging you to speed up your ministrations. You flick your tongue repeatedly against her clit, making her jerk her hips up trying to chase more pressure against her sensitive nub.

You wrap your lips against her clit, sucking it harshly as your eyes look up to gauge Tara's reaction. She whimpers into the palm of her hand. Her eyes are wide, flittering around the room to ensure that everyone is still soundly asleep, as she grinds into your tongue lewdly.

"Y/n...gonna...please i'm gonna cum" Tara whispers out in shallow breaths. She moans your name loudly, the sound reverberating around the room. You begin to pull away upon hearing the noise.

"Nonono baby please i'm sorry...p-please I'll be quiet." Her chest heaving with exertion as she tugs on your hair, keeping you firmly pressed against her.

"Can I c-cum?...Please can I cum?" Your girlfriend's words are jumbled and she punctuates each word with a gasp as she finds herself teetering dangerously close towards the edge of her first climax of the night.

You hum around Tara's clit in approval, the vibrations making her shudder as she cums. Her hand is slapped over her mouth and her eyes are squeezed shut as she leisurely rocks back onto your tongue.

Pulling down her panties completely you suckle her clit into your mouth again. Pushing her hips down into the couch your lips stay wrapped lightly around her clit, pushing two fingers inside her without warming.

Tara's noises are poorly concealed as she whimpers behind her hand, feeling your fingers curl inside of her cunt. As you're knuckle deep inside of her, Chad begins to stir in his sleep. You both freeze, staying completely still, looking at each other with wide eyes until the boy settles back into his deep slumber.

Letting out a sign of relief against Tara's pulsing nub, she groans, biting her lip and nearly shaking from the struggle of keeping herself quiet.

"You're fucking soaked Tar..." you whisper against her as she tilts her hips into your mouth and fingers.

"S-so..so close." She whines, her collarbones and cheeks blushing red.

"Already?" You tease, experimentally slowing your pace, watching her reaction eagerly. Hastily she moves her hands down, clawing and grabbing at your shoulders, desperately trying to pull her back to her.

Chuckling softly you lean back into her, sucking on her clit and pumping your fingers deep inside of her, feeling Tara's gummy walls clench around you as you continue your movements.

Flexing your tongue against her sensitive bud, her wetness gushes all over your fingers, mouth, and chin.

Beginning to speed up your pace, your fingers pound into Tara with fervor. "Y/n...I can't...too much. It's too much...I can't" she babbles senselessly, tears well up in her eyes and she starts to shake under your touch.

"I- I already came, I already came...y/n!" she cries out, far too loudly. You hold yourself up over her trembling body, your pace never faltering as you hold your hand tightly over her mouth, muffling her obscene sounds.

Pressing your thumb harshly into her clit, Tara's body jerks wildly, moaning into your hand as she cums yet again.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead you pull away, sitting down on the couch, and manhandling your shaky girlfriend into the position you want.

Tara sits, straddling one of your thighs, with your hands grasping tightly at her hips. "Can you give me one more, baby?" You whisper softly.

She shakes her head "No...I- yes...I don't...I don't know." she whimpers with teary eyes, tucking her face into the crook of your neck.

"Oh you poor thing...you're going to anyway." you tut, whispering in her ear.

Once Tara feels you guide her hips along the flexed muscle of your thigh she groans, flinching away from the touch and biting your neck. Your hands hold her in an ironclad grip and she's forced right against the bare skin of your thigh.

Silently you're grateful for choosing to wear shorts as the feeling of Tara's slick against your hot skin gives you goosebumps.

It doesn't take long for the overstimulation to turn pleasurable, and Tara starts humping your leg like a bitch in heat. Whining and whimpering hotly right into your ear.

Her hips roll with wild abandon and she cums on your leg, her eyes rolling back into her head, and letting out a dangerously loud moan.

"O-oh fuck baby, i'm cumming!"

Your eyes widen comically large, as Tara rides out her orgasm, whining loudly.

Watching Sam's eyebrows furrow deeply as she shifts restlessly, you push Tara off of your lap. She notices her sister waking up as well, and stands to redress herself in her underwear and pants while you look for her discarded shirt. With haste you pull Tara's shirt over her head, as she hops around pulling up her pants. As she does so, the remote is knocked off the table and under Tara's foot.

Her foot presses into it and she finishes pulling her pants up increasing the noise from the movie to a wildly excessive volume.

Chad and Sam shoot up immediately searching for the source of the loud noise as you quickly regulate the television volume. Mindy stays laying down but groans half asleep "Ugh what the fuck, you guys" she complains, clearly unamused.

Chad just flops back down on the couch dramatically, giving you and Tara an unimpressed side eye, before closing his eyes again.

But Sam. Sam stays standing, fixing her hair and regaining her composure. She breathes deeply then looks at you and Tara, taking in your flushed cheeks and unkempt appearances.

"Tara...why the hell is your shirt on backwards?" Sam questions, her voice is groggy from sleep but her eyes narrow menacingly.

Tara stutters, at a loss words, her eyes glued to the ground under Sam's watchful gaze.

Out of nowhere Mindy gasps loudly, jokingly gagging before spitting out...

"Oh my god they were totally fucking!"

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpeneter #tara carpenter smut #tara carpenter x fem reader #smut #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut

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zlebooks · 1 year

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A SINGLE THREAD OF GOLD (TIED ME TO YOU) 𓍯 series of events where you realize your fate with him is much more intertwined than how you initially believed it to be.

INCLUDES. 🪡 childe, thoma, xiao, zhongli (i might do a part two for ayato, diluc, kazuha !! i just wanted to get this out of my drafts as soon as possible 😭)

AUTHOR’S NOTE. you know the trope “omygod it’s annoying you’ve been by my side all the time but somehow it became less annoying… i like it even and omg i didn’t notice that what i’m looking for is you all along” ?? yes this is that trope … inspired by taylor swift’s invisible string and the movie harry met sally! both got me in a chokehold rn. also the angst levels increase the further you scroll down.

somehow friends to lovers, mentions of wedding and settling down.

childe is a friend. although, he isn’t the type of friend that you share your secrets with, not a friend who regularly contacts you to hang out, nor is he a friend that eats ice cream with you whenever you get your heart broken. childe is the friend you met through mutual connections, the one that makes you say ‘oh! what a small world’ because you just met him last week at a friend’s birthday and now he’s attending as one of the groomsmen at your distant relative’s wedding.

he’s equally surprised as you, of course he wouldn’t forget the one person that told him: “god this party sucks” when the celebrant was just literally behind the two of you. he remembers you being brazen and holding a glass of beer on one hand.

just like the birthday party, during the wedding’s reception, childe finds himself sitting beside you. he asks you how you’re doing as if a lot happened within the week you were separated.

(“you say that as if a week could eventful.”

“hey! a lot can happen in a week!”

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to prove his point.

“like one of your friends getting married!” he gestures to the now married couple dancing.

you find yourself stupidly laughing.)

you both enjoy yourselves together. in the short period of time you sat beside him, you figured that childe was fun to be around and he basically knows everyone in the city.

that’s why, you couldn’t help but joke that you might see him again in another wedding.

(you did.)

surprise was an understatement when you saw him entering the venue. this time, you were a bridesmaid, and he was the cousin of the groom. and just like the previous wedding, childe finds himself sitting beside you, now talking about how the last two months went for you.

(“you better not tell me i can’t ask you about how you spent the last two months because it’s a short time.”

“you know how a year for a human is seven years for a dog?”

“you’re telling me i’m the dog?”

once again, you idiotically laugh.)

this time around, you found out that childe’s real name was ajax. childe was just a nickname given to him by his 8th grade teacher and the name has been stuck ever since. you figured out that he likes the nickname rather well— he tells you that it makes him interesting to which you disagree, sparking a thirty minute debate between you two.

when the party died down, and you were called to help the newly wedded bride, you both bid each other good night. this time, it was his turn to joke about the next wedding you two will meet.

(“if i saw you again in another wedding, i promise to shave my head.”

you snort, “see you at the next wedding then.”)

the moment you meet childe once again, you were a little bit disappointed that you weren’t wearing another bridesmaid dress. however, childe was more than ecstatic that he met you in a baby shower hosted by a mutual friend (once again).

the moment the couple popped the balloon which launched dozens of pink confetti to the air, childe appears right beside you almost immediately.

this time, you find out that he’s equally anxious as you to see the people in your life settling down. that your friends left and right are getting married and having kids, while you had the trouble of looking for someone to spend new year’s eve with.

(“don’t you think that all these events we’re attending are getting suffocating?”

this was the first time you wholeheartedly agree with him without the teasing.)

when everyone else was starting to clean up, and you finally put your hand on your friend’s belly to feel the baby kick, childe tells you he’s going home with a box of take outs. he finally asks you for your number, telling you that he hopes to see you again without the pressuring reminders of settling down.

(“see you on new years?”

“see you on new years.”)

five months went by without the wedding and baby shower invitations, you were glad to say the least. while you were incredibly happy for your friends, you can’t help but to feel insecure for being unable to settle down like the most of them are.

childe and you call sometimes, mostly right before bed and you always scold him for ruining your body clock. but as whiny as you can be, you never actually hung up on him.

these conversations over the phone let you discover little things about childe. like how he hates ketchup on eggs but is fine with it being on everything else, how he likes eating mint choco flavored ice cream but detests anything else flavored mint, and the fact that one of his hobbies is crocheting stuffed toys for teucer who you learned was childe’s youngest brother.

he came from a big family from the country side. he had three older siblings and another three that followed him. you learn that he was a family man; he specifically treasures and adores the three younger ones left at home.

you discover that to them, childe is ajax— the dependable big brother.

during the phone calls, ajax tells you his adventures back home. how he once got pulled into the lake after catching a fish bigger than him, how he once went home with more than enough bruises after learning how to skate for the first time. in return, you supply him the latest office gossip; how the boss and his secretary were sleeping together and almost got caught by the wife. putting things into perspective, your stories were much more dull.

despite these phone calls starting to become a part of your nightly routine, you both never came around to the idea of spending time with each other in personal.

however, the promise of spending new years with each other still remains. and when the night came, you were all bundled up in his arms from complaining how cold it was outside. it was now his turn to complain about the cold as you have succeeded at stealing his mittens and scarf.

(“you didn’t think you could dress for the weather?”

“my coats at home ruin my dress.”)

when the countdown starts and the ball finally drops, everyone starts kissing their partners while you could only stare at childe’s lips. he does the same to you, and before you knew it, you were leaning towards each other, finding the warmth of your lips.

ajax finally meets you halfway and the moment just felt right.

(the next wedding you attend to was yours. and every single one of your mutual friends were invited.)

friends to lovers, swearing.

thoma has been there for your first heartbreak.

he was there to watch every sappy romcoms known to man with you, he was there to give you a new roll of tissue whenever you ran out, and he was right beside you to clean up whatever mess you made.

thoma has been there when your first love shattered your heart into pieces just like how you’ve been there for him when his broke.

the two of you fell easily into a routine; he listens when you gush over the guy you recently met while you give him advice on how to win over his seat mate in class. he reassures you that it wasn’t your fault that things ended up that way while you listen to his frustrations about how incorrigible his girlfriend was. the two of you share a microwave meal as you both whine how relationships are tiring only for the two of you to share a tub of ice cream two weeks later, as you talk about how beautiful it is to love.

the night you call him, your words gibberish and barely comprehensible, it doesn’t take thoma very long to piece the puzzles together. you were obviously upset (upset is an understatement) about your recent romantic endeavor and it was up to thoma to cheer you up just like you’ve done for him many times.

on his way to your home, he picks up a tub of ice cream, a pack of tissue to be safe, and a romantic film that he knew would make you laugh at the ridiculousness.

he rings your doorbell to which you open the door in response, and he sees you standing in your pjs, eyes bloodshot and snot all over your nose. while this was the typical look whenever you were heartbroken, thoma is confused and left to wonder— you have yet to mention being interested to someone for the past two months.

but when a gold envelope haphazardly thrown on the kitchen counter catches his eyes, thoma gets the idea.

“he’s getting married.” you sob loudly, “he’s fucking getting married.”

the male hands you the box of tissue he bought, and you motion him to enter the flat.

“all this time, i thought he didn’t want to get married ever, but he just meant that he didn’t want to get to married to me,” you cry harder than what thoma was accustomed to, and scared that you might literally fall apart, he leads you to your couch.

“and you know what’s funny? they’re getting married on spring,” you inhale briefly, “in fucking spring thoma! that’s when i wanted to get married.”

the man pats you in the back, “he was a douche anyway; i didn’t like him.” thoma takes out the ice cream he bought, handing it to you and the spoon urging you to eat like it would make your problems disappear right away.

as if you hadn’t heard your friend, you continue venting out your frustrations. “and get this: the girl he’s marrying is hannah.”

“hannah?”

“hannah on your 21st birthday. your hannah!”

“oh.”

he sits on the couch, grabs the tub of ice cream and keeps it to himself.

and then the two of you sit in silence.

“do you think this is god’s way of telling us that we’re meant for each other?”

thoma raises an eyebrow.

“i mean, all the people that throws us away—“ thoma decides that he will lecture you on your choice of words, “—end up being together. like maybe we’re so bad that we’re made for each other?”

“which movie did you watch without me?” he teases, to which you take offense because you would never dare to watch a bad movie without him. the rest of the night continues without the topic being brushed over once again but for a moment, thoma actually considers the thought.

maybe, just maybe.

five months followed, and you never cried out your heart to him ever since. thoma, finds himself relinquishing from meeting new people, taking time to sort out himself partly. the other part knows that ever since you told him your silly theory about why your relationships always end up as failures, thoma had started seeing you more than as a friend.

he thinks that he’d make a great damn boyfriend; better than anyone else you had. he knows exactly what makes you double on the floor for laughing, the food you want to eat on certain days, and how to calm you down whenever you were anything but.

despite that, thoma waits. he waits for you to come to him, waiting for you to realize, and waiting for you to be ready. so when you call him up on a friday night, just to hang and not talk about how relationships were taxing, that was the moment he knew.

when you told him you wanted to see another romcom movie without being gibberish and snot blocking your nose, he decides that maybe it’s finally the right time.

thoma lives for the after. the after of every failed relationship because he knows that at the end of the tunnel, there is hope. that in every relationship he enters, he’ll be one step closer to “the one”. and as he looks at you, fighting to keep your eyes wide open to watch yet another sappy romcom movie, he realizes you were the after.

kind of soulmates to lovers, reincarnation, character death (but it’s a happy/hopeful ending don’t worry)

xiao dreams.

at night, dreams plague him in his sleep and he wakes up wondering what is it all about.

illustrations of what wang shu inn looked like more than 10,000 years ago visits him in his sleep, the old liyue looking so vivid as if he lived to tell the its tales.

in these dreams, xiao is always visited by the same person. their hair covers almost half of their face whenever the wind blows, their lips always chastising the “him” in his dreams, their smile was so bright that it completely unravels the heavy knot on xiao’s chest.

and xiao finds himself longing. whenever he wakes up in the morning, he yearns for this person. for him, it feels like the act of falling in love with someone you don’t know, missing somebody you never met.

(“promise that you will look for me in our next lives, alatus.”

xiao jolts awake.)

the young man has heard of that name before.

in his history class, way back in 7th grade, he had heard the feats and victories that belonged to the name. a fearless warrior that served liyue’s god, alatus was said to die peacefully years after the war yet he was all alone.

he had lived his life devoted to the god of contracts; spending his days fighting demons, alatus’ loyalty was to liyue and its people.

xiao hears that a museum nearly ten blocks away has opened to visitors. it is said it contains almost all the rich history of liyue that remains untouched, including portraits and statues once revered many years ago. there, xiao seeks answers.

he arrives at the sight of a familiar figure.

“do you know him?”

you turn around, looking at the guy bewildered.

“i’d have to be really old for me to know him,”

xiao feels his breath taken away from him as he finally confirms his suspicions; you looked exactly like the person in his dreams, only your hair is much shorter. the flurry of emotions inside of him breaks the dam; his heart pounding loudly in his chest that any louder you would have heard it, his head filled with incomplete memories, and his lungs struggling to breath.

(one night at wangshu inn, he sees you brushing your hair.

“join me and let’s look at the stars together.” you pat the space next to you.

“waste of my time.” he tsks, before muttering his breath but he finds himself taking his rightful place beside you.)

he notices the way your eyebrows furrow at him and your lips turning into a pout. “has anyone told you that you look exactly like the guy in the painting?”

true to your words, when xiao gazes upwards, he sees himself staring back at him. eyes bore into his soul, scrutinizing his every move and it’s extremely weird that such painting makes him feel like he’s being watched, and by himself no less.

below the painting, a gold plate is mounted against the wall.

a lover’s oath.

alatus in the art is holding someone. their white clothing smeared with blood, and the tears that fall from the yaksha’s face were enough to tell xiao that they were in their last moments before separation.

strangely, xiao feels a tug on his heart strings. an overwhelming feeling looks over him, and he feels like he’s about to cry.

“it brings you to tears, doesn’t it?”

(xiao in his dreams feels like his heart was ripped open.

in his arms, the only person he might have loved is already dying. the blood from the wound seeping on their clothes is a reminder that it’s only minutes away before their impending doom.

xiao, for the first time in a while, cries when he wakes up.)

“i dream of the person in white,” xiao suddenly confesses.

“they say that they might have been alatus’ friend, companion, and lover.” you tell him, reading from the standee near you.

when you receive no reply from the male, you glance at him and your eyes meet.

intrigue, you ask, “how do they look like in your dreams?”

“they look like you.”

the timeline varies but it’s mainly centered in whatever the genshin timeline is for plot convenience, references to death (still happy ending), reincarnation au, it literally takes several lifetimes for zhongli to realize he likes you, literally the “i’m god’s favorite mortal; he favors me” pipeline. ALSO i got carried away im sorry

first.

you first meet zhongli as a refugee from the waging war. the god governing your land slaughtered mercilessly by those who seek more power. your feet brings you to morax; looking for a shelter and protection.

you almost got turned away, even receiving snide remarks from higher beings for being naively brave to seek protection from a god when you were nothing but a mortal.

(but what is a god’s purpose if not to protect the nation he governs and the people inhabiting it?)

it was only in the right hand deity’s grace were you able to stay.

so like a fish out of water, you live amongst immortals, making yourself useful with mundane tasks that warriors shouldn’t be bothered with.

(when you died in the hands of the enemy, it served as a reminder why morax fights this war.)

second.

the next time zhongli notices of your presence, it was in the middle of the rise of liyue harbor. he is finally a step closer to building a safe land to house his people; long years of the war soon to be buried.

morax, now known as rex lapis, hears every single prayer made at his statues.

he feels you ardently take care of the sculptures and in return, he passionately listens to your pleas of saving your sick mother.

(on your way home one day, you find a plant you’ve never seen before. you take its fruit for your mother to eat as you hold onto your faith, hoping that this may be the answer to your prayers.

the next day, she stands up from her bed for the first time in a long while.)

third.

the first time you were able to hold a conversation with zhongli, was his first time walking amongst mortals.

he now goes by jiawei, a struggling merchant trying to strike a fortune in the harbor— at least that’s what he tells you during your introductions.

you’ve always thought that jiawei was a noble’s son. his vast knowledge on liyue’s history, his proficiency in reading and writing, and his peculiar taste for lavishness gave it away. furthermore, there were days he hadn’t been present, and you surely assumed it was due to his duties as a noble.

zhongli, or jiawei in this life, shares myths and legends of ancient liyue to you while you show him the ropes of living as a simple commoner in his land. he teaches you how to read and write while you teach him what goes on at the streets of the harbor.

(when jiawei doesn’t appear one night to meet you under the stars, you assume he finally grew out of his childlike wonder and immaturity. instead, he grows into the shoes that were his noble duties.)

fourth.

zhongli catches your reincarnation crying underneath an oak tree this time.

he approaches you gently, wishing to comfort an old friend even if you probably don’t remember him. a hand behind your back soothes whatever distress you’re carrying as he tells you everything will be alright.

zhongli learns you are bound to suffer the same fate as almost every maiden in his country.

in a few months or so, your hand will be taken and you will be forced to marry someone whom you have yet to meet.

and zhongli, for the first time, meets someone who openly cursed rex lapis.

(“trust in the lord rex lapis my foot, he doesn’t even listen to my prayers!”

zhongli purses his lips— if only you retained your past memories.)

the following week, your father shared good news that you wouldn’t have to marry to save your clan from ruin. apparently, your crops have never been better and every merchant is seeking business with you.

the next time you see the man who listened you vent out your frustrations under a tree, you thank him for the comfort you received. he expresses his happiness as you tell him that maybe rex lapis isn’t deaf after all while you don’t catch the slight tense on his shoulders.

(that life, just like any other life, you thank him with a different name yet again. zhongli feels that he’s close to losing his identity.)

fifth.

“i know you from somewhere.”

“that wouldn’t be possible; i have just gotten back from my travels.”

“i know you from a long time ago.”

“again, that would be impossible.”

the fifth time zhongli meets you, he notices that your sense of deja vu has gotten stronger.

the god gives you his mortal name that he decided to stick to, making it the first time among others that you meet him under the name zhongli.

in this life, he tells you that he’s a scholar that hails from the land of sumeru with keen interest on liyue’s rich history, and now he’s traveling across teyvat for his studies. you find yourself not believing him one bit.

he tells you stories from his travels, from the hospitality of mondstandt to the exquisite cuisine of inazuma, zhongli recounts the wonders of each nations he’s visited. but from his stories, you know that the man’s heart will always remain in liyue.

and as months passed by and seasons changed, you find yourself wishing that his heart would remain with you as well. but the god resigned himself to a much crueler fate; to walk down a path alone and by himself.

(“i think i love you.”

“it shall pass.”)

sixth.

the heart is a fickle thing, zhongli realizes.

in your previous lifetime, he refused to return your feelings and for a while, he’s committed to it. but as he lays his eyes on you for the first time in this lifetime, he was suddenly reminded that he too, was capable of loving.

zhongli doesn’t approach you, afraid that the feelings he has locked away far deep into the trenches of his heart will blossom and turn into something as beautiful as flowers. but alas, your soul finds his, under the same oak tree that he once found you under, and you almost remembered.

(“i just know that you were special to me.”

zhongli almost caves.)

seventh.

almost a century passes by and zhongli’s feelings for you remain the same. you died and you were reborn.

he never reveals himself to you.

eighth.

ninth.

tenth.

eleventh.

(“why do you seem so afraid?”

the god does not reply, afraid that his voice might give him away.

“why can’t you give us a chance?”)

twelfth.

when zhongli is just zhongli and rex lapis was no more, he comes and finds you.

he dines with you in your favorite restaurant, he walks around the harbor with you hand in hand, and he finally takes you to places in liyue to see its beauty that the textbooks could never justify.

for the first time, the ex archon takes the key and unlocks his heart, allowing himself to love with no restrictions.

(you die from old age, and you know that your husband isn’t anything like you for his hair remained dark while yours turned white, his skin smooth and soft while yours had turned wrinkled and rough from time.)

twentieth.

liyue’s skies have been crying non stop and zhongli is to blame partly.

while he had renounced his claim to the land long ago, a part of his soul is still linked to his beloved nation.

your body remained lifeless, cold, and bitter in the god’s arms. you died peacefully in your sleep, beside your lover and zhongli feels like heart in his chest is being ripped apart slowly and painfully.

as a mortal, you were granted with infinite numbers of reincarnations. you meet zhongli, you spend your lifetime with him wondering why his touch feels so familiar, and then you die peacefully. the cycle repeats.

(zhongli is cursed; he’s sure of it.

while he remembers every waking moment with you, you were bound to forget him and the lives you spent together.

but still, even if the cycle of losing you hurts more than any wound he received from the wars he fought, zhongli continues.

for what is grief if not love persevering?)

twenty-fifth.

through the years, he has grown weary and tired. the path to godhood is a lonely one, but a path leaving his old ways whilst immortal? zhongli has never felt more alone in his life.

he ventures the lands and seas in attempt to break free from the shackles of being a god.

but even then, his path remains anything but fortuitous; his attempts were futile.

(it was his turn to swear at celestia and the higher beings.)

thirty-ninth.

zhongli finds comfort in writing.

he jots down everything about you in every life you spend with him, afraid he’ll forget one detail about you.

this is where he finds solace in when time takes you away from him. it’s what keeps him sane as he waits for you in your next life and the one after that.

as he reads and reads the words he put down into notes, he notices nothing ever changes. he always end up falling in love with you, and you always end up falling in love with him. for zhongli, may it be cruel in its own way, it is a reminder that immortal he may be, he always has a place in your mortality.

(“what are you writing?”

“just some reminders for the day darling.”)

fortieth.

zhongli, with how long he’s been living, should have known better than to leave his possessions laying out in the open.

it’s not like he’s keeping secrets from you, but even he would go crazy if he finds a journal (of his lover nonetheless) that suggests he’s already living his fortieth life.

but you were better than zhongli at handling things like this. you were much more patient and calmer, like the never changing rivers of liyue.

zhongli tells you of your past lives for the first time, and you cry.

not because you felt trapped by loving the same person all the time, but rather, sorry that your lover had to go through all of it all alone.

(“can’t you just grow old with me?”

“believe me sweetest, i tried.”)

morax, rex lapis, jia wei, zhongli. they’re all the same. they’re all slaves to love and to the dreams of spending the rest of their lives with someone they cherish.

that night, zhongli prayed, got on his knees and begged.

once, he was an enemy of celestia. now, he falls to its feet willing to do anything just for it to grant his wish.

he doesn’t sleep, eat, or drink. he just prays.

(oh how the mighty have fallen.)

a week later, your eyes squint at him and he wonders.

“is there something on my face?”

you shake your head, and without warning you pull a strand of hair from his head.

“are you supposed to have white hair?”

zhongli, funnily enough, starts bawling.

(you never thought someone would be so happy that wrinkles are starting to appear all around his face, and how the callousness of his hands become more evident.)

forty-ninth.

fiftieth.

fifty-third.

sixtieth.

seventieth.

zhongli is able to love freely. finally.

please do not repost or translate without my permission. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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thetreefairy · 10 months

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A sickly endeavor

warnings: isolation, muzan using the upper demons to keep you trapped, forced medicine intake, talks about punishments, muzan using reader's mental state against them, reader is genderfluid but in this fic she/her pronouns are used. [yes this is kinda a self-insert]

tip me

Reader hated this, Reader hated being treated like someone that could die instantly. She can, yes, but she knew that her self-proclaimed dad would turn her into a demon right away.

The question is why hasn't he yet?

Does he like seeing her suffer, does he like knowing that Reader has to depend on him?

Perhaps.

Reader hopes its the first time, because the second one would freak her out.

"Come on, you need to take your medication." Douma snapped, losing his patience, which was rather out of character for him. "Awhhh, am I finally getting to you?" Reader joked with a grin, oh how she loved annoying Douma. Douma sighed: "You shouldn't neglect your health as a way to spite your dad-"

"Not my dad."

'As I was saying, spite him in different ways." Douma sighed. "How? By getting a s/o?" Reader hissed. She was done with this, she wanted to go out and move around while she still can. "Or sneaking out."

Reader looked at him shocked. "You should really watch your mouth, Douma." Douma chuckled. "Awh, are you concerned? You're finally healthy enough to move around. If Muzan wants your love he should at least listen to you."

Reader chuckled. "While I agree with you, I will never love him."

"Douma, must I even forbid you from speaking to my daughter? Are you so pathetic that you cannot even get them to take their medicine?" Muzan's voice interrupted them. Reader groaned; "Don't you dare forbid Douma from speaking to me, he's too fun while you are not."

Douma chuckled nervously at this statement, he was acting rather out of character. But reader paid no attention to it, she wanted to annoy Muzan enough so that she didn't have to take her meds.

"Douma get out." Muzan hissed, causing Reader to whine and cling to Douma. "Nooo."

Muzan took Reader from Douma as he left. "You truly are a child." Muzan mumbled as he grabbed some pills. "Hey! I am a teenager, at least get it right when you want to insult me."

"My point isn't to insult you, but to remind you that you need me." This caused Reader to roll her eyes. "As you cannot even take your medication yourself."

"Oh I can, I just don't out of spite."

"Which proves my point." Muzan hissed. "Perhaps isolation would do you well no one speaking to you. Or being immobilized, needing help to even go to the bathroom."

Reader's eyes widened, she didn't want one of his so called punishments. "Maybe even both." He hissed as he forced Reader to take her pills.

Reader swallowed them afraid of the consequences. "Or should I take you to the nearest town, and show you what will happen to everyone if you run away." Muzan continues happily, knowing how much Reader loved that town.

"Why do you keep me sick?" She blurted out, afraid of what will happen. Muzan chuckled: "Why, are you saying that your father is keeping you ill? Are those voices telling you lies again?"

Reader is threading on a thin line, she knows it. But she asks again, causing Muzan's face to harden.

"Because how else will i keep you here, so weak and pathetic."

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jadedbirch · 14 days

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In response to this post about War of Faith

@isilaie said

Finally someone expresses what I was thinking 🙄 I've got a huge problem with propaganda (from any side) and despite the superb directing and acting this one is so blatant that in another context (or country) it almost could be considered as parody. I love Yibo to pieces but ...I think it started with "faith makes great" that there is a kind of red thread (pun intended) in his choice of roles. His success proves him right of course but ...😔🤷‍♀️

I really wanted to address your comment @isilaie because I think it's important we are all aware of the things that are going on "under the surface" so to speak when we engage with this kind of content. Again, speaking as someone who used to live under a totalitarian communist regime, I'm very aware that whatever "choices" and "freedoms" that people like Yibo enjoy are completely illusory. Especially if we assume from the preponderance of evidence that he's queer - and therefore have to assume that whatever lifestyle he may enjoy is sanctioned by the government - then these choices are even more impacted. We've all seen how quickly c-ent can make someone's career disappear (i.e. Zhang Zhehan) and how quickly the CCP can make PEOPLE disappear (i.e. Fan Bingbing) for not toeing the party line or not sending the right message. The more high profile you are (like Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo), the more scrutinized you are for all your "choices." Plus, we also know that these days you can't get anything past the sensors w/o a healthy dose of Patriotism, and at the end of the day, the project that Yibo might sign up for can end up being something else entirely by the time it hits the screen.

So, the only thing I'm going to judge my beloved son on is making career moves that allow him to grow and develop as an artist - and War of Faith definitely gave him the opportunity to once again stretch his acting chops. And I think his success is due to his radiant talent that turns anything he touches into gold, and not so much due to his "patriotic" project choices, but shit, I'm only slightly biased because I gave birth to him LMAO.

As for War of Faith laying it on so thick that it's almost a parody - you're correct - and I actually said to a friend last night that it's ironic that as I watch the show, the Big Communist Heroes actually come off as fanatical terrorists to me. Hmmmm. Interesting.

(On a funnier note, people have pointed out how incredibly GAY this Comrade Drama is for such blatant propaganda, and that perhaps you needed a heavy dose of one to slip in the other. If that's the case even the tiniest bit, then kudos to Yibo for making another secret BL drama right in front of everyone's salad.)

#wang yibo #ccp propaganda #war of faith

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kyber-crystal · 2 years

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head in the clouds || bradley “rooster” bradshaw

summary: after a mission gone wrong that almost costs you your life, you and rooster get into an argument. said argument ends up revealing more about him than you thought you knew

words: ~1.7k

warnings: mentions of near-death experience(s), allusions to trauma, blood, and angst. this has a vv happy ending tho i promiseeeee.

a/n: i can’t stop writing. someone please stop me. i need help

They didn’t call you Viper for no reason.

You struck down your enemies hard and fast, and flew exactly like your father. Some even opted to calling you Maverick 2 rather than your actual callsign. (The real reason for the name was because you’d gotten bit by a snake as a kid, but you elected to forget that moment.)

“Viper, stand down. You’re dangerously close to enemy territory. Start heading back,” Rooster warned. “You have exactly forty-two seconds before you get on their radar and they’re on your tail. This isn’t something you can do alone.”

“I can handle it,” you grunted in reply as you gripped the yoke of the plane, now 100% in control. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and you can’t help but crack a smile. A little turbulence wouldn’t kill you; you’d be fine.

You heard Rooster’s shouts of objection and concern through your mic, but kept going. Today was not the day for giving up and going home early—it never was, and never would be. You were not going to go down without a fight.

You’re determined to prove yourself—to your father, but also Rooster. You’re dead set on impressing everyone with your skill, even if that meant flying into danger. And risking your life in the process.

It was all part of the job, anyway, so what was the big deal?

You’re pulled out of your sea of thoughts by a blaring alarm. The lights dim, and your heart races. What the hell was going on here…

A sudden jolt of turbulence makes you jerk forward in your seat, and you tighten your grip. “Shit,” you muttered a colorful string of swears under your breath. One quick glance up ahead and to your right shows two enemy fighters closing in on you, and closing in fast.

“Damn it,” you tried to keep your calm as you activate the flares, making a straight climb upwards in an attempt to evade the adversary. “No no no no no, please—”

The controls panel flashed a bright red, and the alarm kept going. “I got hit. I think I lost an engine. They caught me.”

Rooster’s blood turned to ice at your statement. “Viper, you need to turn back now. Can you make it out?”

“No!” you shouted in reply. “I’m locked in. Back and sides. I don’t know if I can m—”

“Viper.” You couldn’t hear what he’s saying as your suffered another hit to the side, and your jet dipped. You were losing altitude and balance and you felt yourself getting lightheaded. “Viper, do you copy?”

“Heading northwest at 430 knots. Increasing speed to 490,” you responded, voice shaking, “Running low on missiles.”

At this point, you’re hanging on by a thread, and staying awake is becoming more and more difficult. You’re able to get a missile lock on the bogey up ahead with seconds to spare. But then your plane shoots downwards, and you start spiraling out of control.

“Rooster, I need to take them down.”

“No, you don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Viper, eject now. There’s no other way out of this.”

“I already got one! I need to take down the other, and then I’ll land this plane!”

“Y/N, listen to me.” Your father comes online, and his voice is stern; commanding. “You need to get the hell out of here and eject. Don’t risk your life more times than you need to. You’ve done your job already.”

“Dad…”

“Y/N. I’m not gonna ask you again—”

The ringing in your ears grew louder and louder. Your head was heavy and all the color drained from your vision. You fell back against your seat.

You barely managed to press the button in time, hands shaking and heart palpitating. Your head hit the canopy as you ejected, and the world tilted on its axis, spots crawling across your vision.

The last thing through your mind before everything goes black is the clear panic in Rooster’s tone.

You’re snapped back to reality by someone shaking you awake. With blurry eyes, you make out Rooster kneeling over you. Behind him is what appears to be your jet, crumbling as it went up in flames.

“Y/N, how many fingers am I holding up?”

You squint. “Two…?”

Rooster goes cold. “Three. Y/N, you’re not in good shape. Mav’s on his way with backup. We’re taking you home now.”

“Home?” you croak out. “Why are you here? I’m supposed to be dead.”

“You’re not dead, thank God,” he exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Thank God you’re alive.”

Blood mixes with the sweat and tears on your face, and it looks like you’re crying red rivers of ash. You press a hand to the side of your forehead, and it comes away stained dark crimson. Your head is still swimming, and it takes everything Rooster has not to panic in front of you. You’ve seen enough, and the last thing he wants is for you to see him freak out. Even though he is very much so freaked out.

“It’s going to be okay, you hear me? It’s going to be okay.” He’s breathing hard, and he’s trying his best to stay calm. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you lose yourself in the dark void of nothingness.

When you come to your senses once more, you’re in the med bay. Across the room from your cot is Maverick slumped over in a chair, mug on the coffee table next to him. He must’ve been here all night. He senses that you’re awake and makes his way over to you.

“Sweetheart,” your dad starts. “You scared the living daylights out of us.”

“Are they gone?” you question, referring to the bogey fighters you’d encountered earlier. “Tell me they’re all gone.”

“Hangman and Coyote swooped in and handled the rest. The job’s done.”

“That’s good.” You close your eyes and smile. “That’s really good.”

“You suffered a bad concussion, three cracked ribs,” Maverick explained. A familiar look of hurt flashes across his face, and your heart drops. You know that look. “You’re very lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard, and try to sit upright. “I know.”

He helps steady you, placing a careful hand on your back. “Easy there. Don’t be so rough on yourself or you won’t recover as fast.”

“Where’s Rooster?” you croaked out. “Is he here?”

“In the hallway. He missed two training sessions since we flew back in with you,” he explained. “Refused to leave your side. I tried getting him to go out but he’s stayed camped out on the floor waiting for you. Do you want to see him?”

You nod. He leaves the room, and comes back a few seconds later with an exhausted-looking Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster’s shoulders slump in relief upon seeing that you’re okay.

He sits down by your side, the bed dipping under his weight. You’ve never seen this softer side of him before and it makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

“Hey.”

Rooster shakes his head. His voice comes out hoarse. “You almost died out there.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

There are tears in his red-rimmed eyes. “You had a narrow brush with death, and the first thing you ask when you wake up is about how much I slept? Are you serious?”

“Rooster…”

“God forbid you actually got yourself killed,” he breathes out. “I’d never forgive myself for it.”

“But I’m okay, and that’s what matters.”

“No, it’s not okay! You’re not understanding the point here. Your overconfidence almost cost you your life. If you had gotten out of there a second later…” He begins to raise his voice, but trails off as he notices you wince. “...We’d be taking you back home in a body bag.”

“Forgive me for putting myself in danger and being a self-sacrificial brat,” you scoff. “It’s not like I was trying to stamp down the enemy or anything. If I hadn’t been out there when I was, even more chaos could’ve erupted.”

“And would your death be worth a fraction of victory?”

“Yes.”

“My god, you’re insufferable,” Rooster sighs. “It’s unbelievable that you have such little regard for your life.”

“How is my life any of your concern? What does my well-being have to do with you?”

“I can’t lose you the same way I lost my dad,” he finally says, and that’s when it hits you. This is how Goose died—something had gone wrong as he was trying to eject, and he never returned to base. Guilt overwhelms your senses as you realize he must be reliving his worst nightmare all over again—through you. “Y/N…you’re all I have left. And I’d be damned if you leave this world without knowing how I feel about you.”

Your mouth runs dry. “...What?”

“I’ve been put through hell enough times. I’m begging you…please don’t make me go through it again.” Rooster’s voice is cracked and hoarse as he places a hand against your cheek. “At least promise me that.”

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs skimming over his cheekbones. Heaven’s sake…even sad, he looked so breathtaking. “I promise.”

He moves in to close the distance between you and you meet him halfway, lips colliding together. His hands are shaky as they run through your hair, and the kiss is frantic and rushed and in far less ideal of a situation than either of you could’ve imagined. But it’s more than you could’ve asked for, and because of that, it was enough.

Rooster pulled away to catch a breath, but you pulled him back seconds later and kissed him again. You’re most likely going to lose your breath but you couldn’t care less in that moment. Fate kept you alive when you shouldn’t have been, and it was fate that would bring you back into his giving arms.

“From here on out,” he holds you tight, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re sticking with me, no matter what.”

“I’m not complaining,” you hummed in contentment. “I’d like that very much.”

tags: @rentskenobi @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @valorax @lifeisfullofupsanddownsliveit @sarcastic-sourwolf @ice-mans-world @burnedbrisket @fangirlinc @marveljunkie45 @knowledgefulbutterfly @levis-butterfingers @organabanks @coastingline @skylynch03 @chaoticassidy @hbstre @fantasias-creativebubble @mercury-mae @light-the-moon @winteryoungie @aie1840 @thisismypointofview @worldsoldestpizzaslice @minivture @i-wish-everything-would-be-okay @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @thespeeder @lyn-lc

#top gun: maverick #top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #miles teller x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader

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multifan2022 · 8 months

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Fearless 5

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

One of the things you loved about Dauntless, was even in the cold underground cave like home the water never got cold. Whatever water heaters the faction had were on point. So as you stood there his chest to your back letting the hot water run over the two of you until your skin warmed, it was divine. When one hand left your hip, and slowly made its way up to your breast kneading roughly you tried to act like you didn't notice.

"Tell me Y/n" Four said his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, only proving to turn you on further. When you stayed silent he chuckled darkly, before moving his other hand towards the apex of your thighs. When he lazily drug a finger threw your lower lips, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

Being 5'7 to his 6'0 had its advantages. One hand found its way behind you to his hair, your fingers threading threw. While the other went to the wrist of the hand he had lower, you knew that if he pulled away you wouldn't stop him. You physically couldn't stop him even if you wanted too, but if he wanted to stop you would never push that.

His rough fingers easily found your clit, while his other hand moved from your breast to your throat. Wrapping his fingers around it to hold you in place, brushing his lips across your shoulder. A soft moan escapes your lips as he starts rubbing sloppy but quick circles over your clit.

"Eaton.." You moaned digging your nails into his skin, trying to not give to much away. You knew what he was going to do, you gladly were accepting. While it felt a little weird saying his last name, you felt weird moaning Four.. And he hated Tobias.. So that left Eaton, sometimes you would say Four but it was normally Eaton.

Really Four didn't care what you said, he just loved the way your sounds of pleasure made his chest warm. He loved the way his skin felt like it was unfire but also relaxed whenever you touched him. The unconscious way you moved towards him in crowds. How your eyes would seek him out when you were stressed or anxious. He loved everything about you, except your short fuse.

But he figured everyone had a down fall. Everyone had a flaw that someone couldn't stand. He knew that you held it together to the best of your ability. Like earlier in the dorms when you snapped, it had been coming all day. He could tell by the way you tapped your fingers against your arm, the way you bounced from foot to foot.

Zeke had also told him you had been the same at the ceremony. Between the stress of losing some and gaining some, the stress of maybe seeing your hateful brother. Seeing Rita's sister die, and the beginning of the trials. That fuck head Peter, and all the annoying questions.

Then Eric coming over, that was bad enough but then when he was touching you.. It set Four ablaze with an emotion he couldn't quite name, one he hadn't felt often. And had never felt towards you. All he knew was that he lived for these moments, the moments in one of your rooms. Or the few times you had pressed him against the wall in a quiet hall. It was what got him threw the shitty days.

So with that in mind, he moved his hand lower pushing a finger into you harshly. Pumping only a few times before adding another. He could feel your pussy fluttering around them, he felt himself growing hard at the feeling.

You were trying to not show how much you were enjoying it. That of course didn't matter because Four knew your body almost better than you did. You turned your head, his lips catching yours as he continued pumping his thick fingers into you. He pulled away letting your moans fill the air as you started to tighten around him, "Tell me what was wrong."

You groaned a little and bit your lip, just a few more seconds and you would be over the edge.

As if he read your mind, he ripped his fingers out of you. "Fuck.. Come on Eaton.." His other hand was still firmly around your throat, so you couldn't pull away. His fingers brushed over your clit again, so lightly you almost couldn't tell if it happened. You felt yourself push your hips forward, trying to keep whatever contact you could.

"Do you think I'll let you cum before you tell me?" He said biting down on your shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark. You shook your head a small smile on your face as he squeezed your throat a little tighter. Cutting off just a bit of the air flow to your lungs. "Ah, that means you like being a brat."

When his fingers found his way back into you, you couldn't stop the way your back arched. It only took a small twist and curl of his fingers for him to find the sponginess of your g-spot. Pushing the pads of his fingers against it every time he pushed in or pulled out.

The sensation along with the slight light headedness was overwhelming. The motion quickly brought you to the edge again. "Four.. Dont.. Please.." You begged knowing he was going to do it again if you didn't answer him. At this point honestly you couldn't remember why you wouldn't answer him. You were just along for the ride.. and so far the ride was fabulous.

When he pulled out again a whine found its way from between your lips. He spun you around this time, pressing you against the cold stone wall. Your mind barely registered it as his lips found yours. Kissing your ferociously both his hands now wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you up the wall.

Before you could even take a breath to start begging he was pushing into you. Your head falls back to the wall, as your nails dug into the skin of his back. You heard him hiss but nothing really mattered. You were with the person you loved, doing one of your favorite things. Nothing could stop you at this moment, someone could've walked in and neither of you would've stopped.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass as he pounded into you. "Fuck, Ill never get use to how tight you are." He said his fingers digging into your thighs so hard that you knew there would be bruises. "I can feel you, you're ready to cum.. All you have to do is tell me what was going on.. Tell me now or I'll stop."

Your mind told you to keep your mouth shut, but your body won out. "Fuuckk.." You seethed threw your teeth trying to hold on. Two hard thrusts later it all just spilled out "I just dont like any of the newbies yet.. Those two girls and that fuckwad guy pissed me off.. Eric pisses me off.. His touch makes me want to vomit. Fuckk.."

You moved your head fell to his shoulder as he held all your weight, muscles in his arm flexing to help move your body. "I just feel more stressed than normal.. Im sorry." Finally the rest of the weight rose off your shoulders.

The groan that came from Fours throat made you clench, only making him groan again. When you finally felt the band of your orgasm snap, your vision went white. Buzzing sounds filled your ears, you could barely hear Four tell you he was cumming too.

You didn't remember making the choice to rake your nails down his tattooed back. You were sure there were spots where he was bleeding. But through those final few thrusts nothing mattered. Not the soreness of your thighs, not the stinging in his back. Just the euphoric feel flowing between the two of you.

When Four finally set you down, it was quiet besides the sound of the water and the hazy breaths. He left his arms wrapped around your waist and back while your legs stopped shaking. The rest of the shower was spent gently washing each other, his arm firmly around your waist. The smell of his minty body wash filled your nose, he scrubbed hard enough to lightly pink your skin. Having showered with you enough to know how you would do it.

He didn't wash your hair, knowing you would be pissed if he didn't condition it but he rinsed it. You washed his hair as he held you up, lightly pulling at it as you rinsed it. Using your hands to wash his skin, rubbing the tension out from his shoulders. He pressed his lips against your forehead before turning the water off and stepping out.

"You dont have to apologize to me for being stress Y/n.. You know that right?" Four asked as his fingers brushed through the tangled mess of your hair. He was on his back with you on his chest, even though you were mostly asleep you answered with a nod and hum.

"I know there's something else going on.. I just want you to remember I'll be here when you are ready to talk. I will always be here Y/n, I'll always protect you." His soft voice was the last thing you heard as you fell into the darkness. Feeling completely relaxed and safe under the blankets wrapped in Fours arms.

You slept wrapped in each other's arms that night. A silent dreamless sleep comforting both of you. The beat of your hearts as well as your breath synced with each other. Both on your side, your hands against his chest while his arms were wrapped around you.

One under your head keeping it tightly tucked under his chin, the other around your waist. Your legs tangled together. Every part of you that could be touching was. Had anyone walked in and seen you two, they would never have thought you were 'just friends'.

@coolestgirlhere @everydayisordinary @hannahbeezz @cat-lockwood

#four eaton #four x reader #tobias eaton x reader #divergent fanfiction

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jeanboyjean · 5 months

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you're the worst - ft jean kirstein. mdni!!

summary: you and jean are rivaling lawyers on the partner track and it’s your firm’s xmas party. what better way to prove you’re better than him than to fuck him?

content: (nsfw) f! reader, rivals to lovers, coworkers, fucking at your work christmas function … in a storage closet!! f! oral receiving. p in v. unprotected sex oops. big dick jean, light choking

a/n: inspired by (actual irl) boyfriend's beef with his coworker. she recently got a promotion over him and he wont shut up about it so i was like wait … i gotta write this down this is a great idea HOLD AWN. their xmas function is next week and theres always drama!! enemies to lovers is THE TROPE for meee so i may expand on this later on and make a long fic but for now this is it. ty to @gallliard + @cowgirlikets for beta reading bc im goofy!! tag: @poopwons

2.7k words

String lights twinkle from the ceiling as people mill around you. Music is thumping from the large speakers near the DJ stand as you make your way to the bar to get another drink. Your law firm’s annual christmas party is in full swing right now and it's around halfway through the night - about the point where everyone’s finished their dinners and washing them down with drinks. The cocktail tables you had initially stood around at the start of the night, schmoozing with partners, have been cleared to form a crowded dance floor. You carefully thread your way between your coworkers while they let their hair down after yet another busy year.

When you finally reach the bar, you flag down the bartender and order another drink. In the holiday spirit, the firm had requested custom themed drinks and he sets down a very festive vodka cranberry in front of you. You're taking a sip, turning away to lean your back against the counter when a figure next to you catches your eye.

You sigh. It’s your coworker, Jean Kirstein - a.k.a the bane of your existence.

The two of you had joined the firm at the same time as new grads and had moved up the ranks together. Now, he’s your biggest competition, the one thing standing in the way of you becoming junior partner. He’s good, you’ll give him that. You both are. The two of you are the firms biggest rising stars, pulling clients and racking up billables like it’s nothing.

Unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a dick. At first, you couldn’t tell if his cocky persona had been an act, but after working alongside him these years, you’ve just come to accept that he is naturally a loud, smug asshole. The breaking point had been when you had stayed up late one night in your third year, working on a proposal, only for Jean to rock in the next day with his own that overwrote everything you had done. You’ve never really forgiven him for stealing your thunder and have used every opportunity you can to shine over him. Since then, he’s been nothing more than your rival and enemy. This was even more so lately, what with the announcement coming up next week to reveal who would be getting a promotion.

Jean turns his head to follow the bartender and meets your eyes. You quickly turn away and sip your drink.

“Hey,” you hear him say. He’s moved across to stand next to you, leaning his side on the counter.

Inwardly, you tense a little, always on guard when he interacts with you. “Hi Kirstein,” you say stiffly. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking how good it’s going to feel when they call out my name for junior partner,” he grins smugly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Not my dreams if it’s a fact,” he sings and you bristle at his words. There’s no way he could know this for a fact. Everything’s been kept under wraps and you know you have just as much of a chance as him. You both went well over budget and the partners love you equally. It’s anyone’s game at this point.

He laughs. “I’m just kidding. I’m 99% sure it’s gonna be me but who knows what could happen. You might still have a shot.”

“Fuck off, Kirstein,” you snap at him, getting ready to leave.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He waves his hands. “It could be either of us. Or maybe even Reiner might pull an undercover steal and take it from us.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. Reiner’s good but he’s far from partner material so you know Jean's taking the piss.

Jean straightens up, demeanour becoming a little more serious. “You know … I think it might actually be you this time.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you playing mind games with me, Kirstein?”

“Nah. I think you deserve it, that's all. You worked really hard on that last merger with the Reeves company and it paid off. All the partners are raving about it.”

His voice is sincere for once and your mouth hangs open in shock. You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation with Jean that wasn’t the two of you throwing jabs back and forth. It’s no secret to anyone that you can’t stand the other’s guts.

It's strange. For some reason, he's smiling at you and that fact that you don't feel the need to snap back at him makes you want to smack him.

The lighting at the bar brightens up his sandy brown hair like a halo around his face and his eyes glow as they stare intently at you. Fuck you Jean Kirstein and your perfect hair and your perfect face.

“You look nice today,” he admits, gaze travelling down to give you a once over. The surprises won’t stop coming.

“Yeah, you clean up well too I guess.” It's not a lie - he's definitely attractive. The problem with Jean though is he knows it. You have to be careful with what you say so as to not feed his already bloated ego.

He smirks, obviously pleased by your admission. He hums, eyes wandering around at your surrounding before landing back on you. There’s a split second where you swear they flicker down to your lips briefly. “You wanna go dance?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to dance ... with me,” you say flatly, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, why not?” He gestures to his body. “You know you want to.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, Kirstein. I’ll indulge you this one time since you so clearly want to.”

Whirling around, you down your drink then stalk away to the dance floor. You hear him snicker behind you as he follows. Once you find a free spot, you turn to face him, suddenly a little unsure. He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he steps in closer to you. His hands come to rest on your waist and your body lights up at his touch. Hesitantly, your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you let the music guide your body, alcohol pumping through your blood.

After a few minutes, his head dips down and you shiver when his nose grazes your neck. Lips at your ear, he murmurs, “I mean it by the way. You look really good.”

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for me now, Kirstein,” you say in response, trying your hardest to hide how his words rock you to your core. He doesn’t say anything and just laughs, shoulders shaking.

When you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on you, glowing molten lava. Your breath catches in your throat. It feels like the world disappears beneath your feet as you find yourself trapped in his gaze.

Wanting to break free of the moment, you spin around. His hands are still on your waist so you find yourself pressed with your back against his chest. His grip tightens, hips still rocking to the music. You let yourself be moved along too, trying your best to calm your racing heart.

The song is slow and bass heavy, soulful vocals crooning - a little sensual for a conservative law firm like this. When the last few notes trail off, his head drops again to your shoulder and you can feel more than hear him groan.

“Shit,” you hear him mutter. He goes to move away from you but it’s too late. There's an unmistakable hardness pressing firm against your ass. You still and slowly turn to face him.

He has the decency to look embarrassed now, sheepish expression on his face as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away. Please … pretend nothing happened.”

You stare at him, blood thumping in your veins. Despite everything, heat pools in your stomach while a wetness builds between your legs. You shake your head and grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“What-”

You drag him through the crowd, turning into the corridor towards the bathrooms. With a tug, you pull him into a storage closet and shut the door behind you. He looks at you in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What are we doing in here?”

You roll your eyes and step in towards him. “Do you want to do this or not?”

His eyes widen and they flicker from yours to your mouth and his breath catches in his throat when your tongue slides out to lick your lips.

Without a word he closes the distance between the two of you. His hands come to grip your jaw as he presses his mouth hard against yours. You share a messy kiss, your hands tangling in his hair, his sliding down your body.

He places wet kisses down your neck as one hand cups a breast, the other groping at your ass. You moan, head falling back as he sucks into your sensitive skin and pinches a nipple through your dress.

“I want to take this off,” he almost pleads, tugging at the fabric. “Can I take it off?”

You nod, letting him unzip and feeling it fall to the floor. His eyes roam your body. “Fuck. You’re so hot,” he groans.

He walks you back until your back hits the closed door behind you. Kisses trail down your body as he falls to his knees and hooks a leg up over his shoulder. He licks a wet stripe up your inner thigh, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening folds. Wasting no time, he dives forward to lick at your wet slit.

“You taste so good,” he moans into your skin. You’re breathless above him, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he works his magic.

He takes your sensitive clit into his mouth, swirling around with his tongue and sucking. A finger dips into your folds and you clench tight at the intrusion. He curls it inside you, searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and it’s obvious when he finds it because you jerk above him, moaning in delight. You feel his lips lift in a smirk and he’s relentless now. Another finger joins and he’s pumping, massaging your slick walls, still sucking at your clit. Your toes curl, heat building in your core.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you cum on my face,” he moans into your soaking cunt. At his words, it only takes a little more before you feel yourself let go and your orgasm takes over. Waves of pleasure rip through you as you pulse and squeeze around him. Your knees buckle and he catches you with one hand, pinning your hip against the surface behind you.

He grins as he removes his fingers, sucking them clean before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stands, pulling your face into a messy open mouthed kiss. It feels nasty, the way you're panting into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You reach down to palm at his crotch, feeling his hard cock straining against his pants. Eagerly, you pull them down and release him, feeling him hot and heavy in your hand. With all of his arrogance, you had been sure he was overcompensating for a lack of something downstairs but now you're sorely (or maybe thankfully) mistaken. He's easily the biggest you've ever had.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he says.

“Oh,” you say in response, but all you can think is, damn he's big. You shake your head. “I’m clean and on the pill so I’m fine if you are.”

Jean grins. “Sounds good to me.”

He kisses you again before spinning you around to face the door. Your hands fall in front to catch you and he presses into your back. His cock is hard against your ass and he takes a moment to grind against you slowly. He guides it with his hand to slide a few times over your slit, gathering the wetness. You hold in a whine, already a little overstimulated when he finally lines himself up and pushes in slowly. There's a little resistance but you relish in the feeling of stretching around him.

“So tight,” he moans into your hair, cock throbbing inside you.

Jean moves slowly to begin with, letting you adjust to his size but it’s not long before his pace picks up and he’s fucking you in earnest. His hips thrust against your ass, cock sliding in and out, reaching areas you didn’t think were possible. You moan as you rock back into him, desperately meeting his movements.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut as you feel him driving in relentlessly, letting your body go limp in pleasure. One of his hands grips the door next to yours, while the other reaches up to wrap around your throat to hold you up against him. He’s only resting his hand there really, but it makes you clench around him even tighter.

At the sensation, he hisses, hips stuttering. “Oh, you like that?” His hips snap in hard. “I knew you would, you dirty girl.”

His fingers tighten around your neck, lightly cutting off your air supply. It’s enough to make your head spin, stars forming in your vision. He pants into your hair, softly muttering curses as he pounds in quicker. You’re at his mercy now, moaning freely, as your orgasm builds again.

Legs shaking in the effort to hold yourself up, you lose yourself in the moment. Electricity streaks through your body, lighting up all of your nerves. The lack of air is making your limbs tingle, heightening your senses. The hand he’s using to steady himself falls down to your hip, sliding down to your pussy. You jerk when his fingers find your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear. With a few quick circles at your sensitive nub, you're crying out as you cum around his cock. Your walls clench tight, uncontrollably and your hands claw at the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans, hips stuttering, all finesse out the window. “You’re squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna fucking come.”

He fucks into you without abandon, using both hands to grip your hips tight enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the slick sound of your skin meeting each other filling the air, before burying into you all the way as he cums. His hips falter and slow as he reaches his high, spilling deep inside you. His forehead drops onto your shoulder, as he tries to catch his breath and carefully, he pulls out, his cum leaking out of your cunt down your thigh.

You fall forward, catching yourself with your forearms against the door. You turn around to face him. His hair has fallen out of its careful styling, a few stray strands sticking on his damp forehead. He grins at you, blinking slowly, lids heavy with contentment. You’re a little surprised when he dips down to capture your mouth in another kiss. His lips are more gentle now, movements softer as his hands lightly hold your jaw. When he pulls away, you’re breathless and frazzled, completely taken aback by the entire sequence of events.

“You good?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You nod in response, racking your brain to think of something to say but coming up empty.

“That was so hot,” he says in your silence. “I knew all that tension between us would lead to something great.” He smirks. “Didn’t think it would be so easy to get you like putty in my hands.”

You straighten at his words, batting his hands from your warm cheeks. “Fuck off, Kirstein. It was just unexpected. You’ll see. Next time you’re the one that’s gonna be putty.”

His chest heaves with laughter as he bends down to pick up your dress and hand it to you. “Next time, huh? Good to know.”

“You're the worst,” You groan, making a face at him as you step into your dress and slide the straps back up over your shoulders. You turn around, holding your hair up with your hands to let him zip it back up.

A shiver runs down your spine when his fingers graze your bare skin. He presses a light kiss against the side of your exposed neck. “Let’s get back out there then,” he murmurs into your skin.

You pretend your legs don’t buckle a little at the feeling of his touch and shake yourself off, smoothing down your dress. You can still feel the ghost of him inside you and his sticky cum dripping down your inner thighs.

Next time, Jean Kirstein. You’ll see.

#attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth

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thedarkdisgrace · 2 months

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Thread analysis from my twitter about soukoku & Dazai specific stuff in this DA art since people were interested in my thoughts on it lol reminder it’s my personal interpretations on it.

This is part 2 essentially of the original post. This focuses just on Dazai and Chuuya.

Alright, so I’ll just start by readdressing a point from my other post just for convenience for people who didn’t see the other post. You can reread this or skip down to my newer points. Red thread typically symbolizes those who are destined to be together.

Dazai has the red thread of fate wrapped around his neck. Chuuya has one end & it's wrapped around his wrist, that seems to symbolize he's holding Dazai's life in his hands. It’s also wrapped around the wrist where Chuuya has his childhood scar, the one proving he’s human.

An obvious link to their shared humanity to me, despite they, themselves, not believing in their own. But it’s no surprise Chuuya holds one side of Dazai’s life, we all know they're inexplicably linked & fated. Chuuya is always there to save Dazai & Asagiri said he's the only one who understands Dazai always.

But it's interesting the other half of Dazai's string is first wrapped around his own wrist before continuing to Aku. This essentially saying Dazai holds his own life in his hands. Which obviously seems super accurate since we know his biggest enemy is often his own mind & the hole inside his chest that he has a hard time filling. It's where his suicidal tendencies come from. But essentially, Dazai's life is held only by Chuuya & then himself and I love that detail.

Moving on. Another thing I found interesting about Dazai in this art (& in DA in general) is that he is wearing an all white suit with a black inner shirt. While Chuuya is in his typical black outer coat & white inner shirt.

I believe this choice serves to emphasize the “yin/yang” of their relationship. The red thread bounds them together while their individual natures complement/complete each other, making them whole. Dazai seems to often see himself/his soul as truly dark by nature even as he lives in the light now, so it seems fitting.

He utilizes his darker nature to *protect* the light now, as he understands the darkness (the villains) that come for those in the light. I touched on that above as well.

Chuuya is the opposite but also similar. Chuuya having a “lighter” soul/heart by nature despite being shrouded in darkness. This is showcased in his fierce protective nature of those he cares for as well as the city he protects. His intense, unyielding belief that, despite all he has been through, people are *worth* suffering for, they’re *worth* protecting.

This in contrast to Dazai when they first met who believed “nothing he could pursue is worth the cost of prolonging this life”.

Chuuya believes people are worth it even while still living in the darkness (which it’s important to note dark doesn’t equal evil, everyone is grey and everyone has a role to play).

But even while living in it, *despite* it, he still holds onto his light. His humanity. Humanity is a consistent theme between Dazai & Chuuya.

They both end up making the other feel human, feel alive. Even their abilities are almost named *for* each other.

Chuuya’s ‘no longer human’ when corruption takes over, until Dazai brings him back to it. (Just to be clear, Chuuya is human. That was confirmed).

Dazai is ‘the tainted sorrow’ that Chuuya is able to awaken from that sorrow with his very nature, his vibrant showcase of humanity. I believe it’s his relationship he was able to form with Chuuya that not only kept him alive (“Chuuya convinced me not to die yet”) but also opened Dazai to the possibility that there *are* people worth it out there. It’s why he was open enough to form his relationships with Oda and Ango.

But despite their struggles, despite their methods even, they both are trying to protect what they can. Both have the capability of acting in the light & dark in equal measure.

Essentially, they’re both made up of different light & darknesses but they end up completing each other.

It’s also interesting they put Chuuya on Dazai’s “good” side. The side Dazai’s see the light with. Kinda shows you how Dazai views Chuuya.

—

Something else about Dazai’s clothes, he seems to be wearing a yellow ribbon on his “darker” side. Which I find very interesting given the yellow wrapped ribbon normally represents suicide *prevention*.

Yellow in Japanese culture also tends to represent courage, which is also fitting, it even used to represent role models.

(This next part I’m definitely reading too much into it but I still found it fun and interesting!)

But moving to the next interesting pieces, Dazai is holding an apple in his hand on his “darker” side. Given Dazai talks about apple suicide (+ being called dead apple) it seems these 2 pieces are at odds with each other.

The apple in this context representing death/suicide while the ribbon represents life/prevention.

But Dazai is holding an apple in his hand on his “darker” side. Given Dazai talks about apple suicide (+ being called dead apple) it seems these 2 pieces are at odds with each other.

The apple in this context representing death/suicide while the ribbon represents life/prevention.

So in this art, is the idea of apple suicide representing a dark irony? Dazai seeing death as good fortune? Or is the apple only representing the more surface level contrast of death with the ribbon being life? I think that’s up to interpretation.

Small side note, Chuuya’s hat being placed over his heart is definitely deliberate. The hat that helps protect his humanity, the hat that helps offer Chuuya some control, sitting atop of & covering his heart makes sense. It’s almost as armor, protecting his “light” as it were.

Now to talk about Dazai being the only one “awake” as it were & the specific eye that’s uncovered.

The fact it's the eye that used to be covered in the PM is an important choice. Especially given the eye that was open with the PM is closed.

Dazai seems to be seeing more of the good now, maybe even is starting to see the true value in light.

However, it's only because of his dark past he's been able to survive & help save the ada multiple times. I believe that's why it's *that* wrist, the wrist helping covering that eye that was open while in the mafia, that is bound by the red thread of fate.

That wrist being wrapped up symbolizing how he partly holds his own life in his hands (along side Chuuya holding the other part). His fate is bound by *both* his sides, the light & dark in equal measure.

Dazai holds one side for his own life because not only is he his own worse enemy but he ironically (sadly) can't live completely without that dark side of him.

It's the part that wants him to end his life but it's also thanks to that side & what he went through that he can survive so well now & help others. It’s allowed him to understand the villains they face. Of course his past is a tragedy, but what we go through makes us who we are. At least he can use it to save people now.

Another point, (this more of a stretch) the overall theme here seems to be fate, since the thread of fate is predominately featured.

Dazai being the only one with his eye open, the only one awake, could also mean he knows something about their fates that no one else does.

Maybe since his “light” eye is open it’s a good thing. But it could possibly even be linked to the book, either that he knows more about the book & what it contains more than everyone else or (& this is a much bigger stretch) that he may even have read/seen briefly a piece of the book

Maybe whatever the reason is part of the real reason he picked up both Atsushi & Akutagawa & formed shin soukoku. Because for all his & Chuuya’s might, they need something *specific* for what’s coming. Something only shin soukoku has & we already know Atsushi is connected to the book.

Plus the thread of fate is linking them *all* together here. Some more connected to each other obviously, soukoku together & then sskk + kyoka. But again, this last part is very much a stretch but it’s just something fun to think about.

I hope all this made sense. Like i said, this is all just my interpretations so take it as you will. Everyone is free to have their own interpretations & opinions. I definitely went a little overboard & went deeper than just the art itself but oh well lol

If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my interpretations! Again some are deeper than originally intended & some are much more a stretch but thanks for coming to my ted talk lol

#bsd dead apple #bsd analysis #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #dazai #soukoku #bsd #skk #chuuya x dazai #bungou stray dogs #akutagawa ryuunosuke #atsushi nakajima #shin soukoku #daz

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gartenofbanny · 4 months

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I don’t think your video about Vivziepop’s behavior is true because Discord messages can easily be edited. Also some SpindleHorse members say that she’s great and that the accusers were always a problem. The fact that accusers didn’t pursue legal action, only slandering her online, kinda proves it. As legal proceedings require evidence. I would recommend Iox’s video called Vivziepop Patreon Situation video for more information that’s all I have to say. Have a good day

If the screenshots were edited, Vivziepop would've come out about it and addressed them. So far, she has not and I don't believe she ever will. Saying that Discord messages can be "easily edited" doesn't mean that people edited Vivziepop's Discord messages. As to your second point, people have different work experiences, and since it's been said by numerous Spindlehorse workers that they work remotely (which is from home), Vivziepop would most likely treat others differently without them knowing. To your third claim, not everyone has the money or time to pursue legal action and Vivziepop is rich so that doesn't prove anything either. To your last claim, Iox's Vivziepop Patreon Video is not related to the transphobic discord messages. The title is literally self explanatory and my video does not contain Vivziepop's patreon discord messages.

I'll repeat my first and core point, if the screenshots in the video weren't true, Vivziepop would have addressed it. But she'd rather clear up confusion about Charlie being a goat than talking about the thread.

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop #helluva boss #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #helluva critical #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique

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the-most-faithful · 4 months

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James Potter Stans"justifications"

I found this old thread on reddit and it is pure gold. The classic "justifications" used by James Potter Stans.

This isn't really an excuse, it's just admitting that James was an arrogant bully under the guise of "he was a teenager" surprise, Snape was a teenager too.

Oh, that's the point, for all those who keep saying "We don't deny reality" here you go.

James didn't bully Snape, they were just rivals. I'm not good at math, but since when would 2 VS 1 be rivality? Because in the books we know that James and Sirius attacked Snape just out of boredom, where would the rivalry be? Isn't attacking someone by slamming them to the ground, lifting them by the ankle, suffocating them with soap, SA them bullying? Is it simple rivalry? So tell me, what's the other side of the story. Rivality means that they are equals and attack each other equally. When did Snape ever attack, suffocate, curse James? (And no, I haven't forgotten the Prank, but we'll talk about it later)

James didn't change in canon, he got everything he wanted without ever having to apologize, he was popular, on the right side of the war and he got married to the girl he liked, even though he bullied her best friend for years. James continued to attack Snape even in seventh year without telling Lily. But even so, let's pretend that James is really mature, what does this prove? That first he was an arrogant bully, so at least we don't deny this fact, and then at some point he changed, so what? Do the years of bullying disappear? I wouldn't say, going back to clarify that in the books the only change James made was to no longer attack other students, he continued to target Snape behind Lily's back.

Well no, we were told that Snape was prejudiced against muggles (I remind you that his muggle father was violent towards him and his mother) and hung out with people like Avery, Mulciber etc. But it is never said in the books that he used dark magic against Muggle-borns. I can agree with one thing, Snape called muggleborns Mudblood. Everyone except Lily, until The worst memory. But again, what is this supposed to prove? Wasn't Snape a victim of bullying because he used an offensive term? Whatever he did doesn't take away the fact that he was a victim of bullying.

There are so many things wrong here that I don't feel like correcting them all. But the biggest one, The Prank doesn't happen in the seventh year but before the worst memory. We know this from the memories that appear in the seventh book. Lily and Severus still talk to each other, they're still friends. The "James had changed by that point" theory doesn't hold up as a few months later he SA Snape just out of boredom in his worst memory.

In the Prank Sirius tried to kill Snape using Remus as a weapon (nice friend) and James took Snape out at the last minute. Is he a hero for this? He didn't let his best friend kill another person, that's the minimum for being a deceased person. It's like saying that making someone cross the street instead of hitting them with my car makes me a hero. Hell no, I'm just a normal person.

So what have we demonstrated in all this? Was Snape a wonderful person who had no flaws or faults? Absolutely not, but in his school years he was the victim of James and Siurius' bullying. Stop denying canonical reality, stop creating confusion with chronology and inventing facts that never happened.

#professor snape #snape stan army #anti snaters #anti james potter #anti marauders stans #anti sirius black #anti marauders #pro snape #snape slander #james was a bully #james potter never changed #marauders era #marauder were bully

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 8 months

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The Taste of Champagne - Carlos Sainz

Ah Monza. The most Ferrari of all weekends on the calendar. You were excited, and so was Carlos. But you were also really nervous. You both knew that Max would prove difficult at the start, but he had put it on pole the previous day.

Carlos had been stressing about it all evening and all morning, and it was understandable. The majority of the fans that you could see in the stands, from the garage, were dressed in scarlet as the flags with the prancing horse were waved around.

So many donned the '16' or the '55' of the Ferrari boys, and they wanted a win just as much as Charles and Carlos did. But, a win wasn't expected. That was pretty much reserved for Max at this point. But that didn't mean they couldn't put it on the podium.

Before you let him have the time to himself to focus before the race, you thought you'd reassure him. "Hey, how you feeling?" You asked, standing beside him.

"Scared, excited, nervous," he nodded, turning to look at you, "So a mix of everything, really," watching as his car was getting ready to be taken out onto the grid. "Well, no matter what happens out there, I'll be proud of you. And, most importantly, they'll be proud of you," you said, motioning to the crowds in the stands.

"They adore you, Carlos. They're just glad to get to see you race. Even if you came last they'd be cheering you home," you told him, watching as a small smile sprawled across his face.

"Well then, I've got to give them what they want," he smirked, pulling his race suit up and threading his arms through the sleeves. He zipped it up, but your hands found their way to the velcro that fastened the neck straps on.

You pressed the pieces together, then pulled him in by the neck for a tender kiss. "Good luck, but you don't need it," you smiled, leaving him to get in the zone for racing.

"Thank you," he said as he watched you walk away to your spot in the garage. As everyone set off for the formation lap, everyone expected the five red lights to be going out any minute, but then the camera panned to Yuki Tsunoda pulling over and you heard his radio saying there had been an engine failure.

The cars all lined up on the grid, waiting for the race to start, but it didn't come. Race control sent the cars out on another formation while they decided what they were going to do with Yuki's car. They all got back into their grid spots, but there was still no race start in sight.

You sat there as the drivers were asking what was happening, and the teams could only tell them what they knew, and that wasn't very much. You saw as the mechanics were all lining up at the end of the pit lane to go out and stop the cars from overheating.

In your ears, you heard Carlos saying that they would have to do another formation lap, and the engineers couldn't do anything but agree with him. You were panicking slightly, since you didn't want him to be put off by the chaos of this happening.

Typical, it had happened on the one day that Carlos was on pole and he needed to concentrate more that ever. But, you knew he'd keep his cool, he'd been doing this for long enough. Eventually, the mechanics all scurried back to the garages, exhausted from running around the place like maniacs.

They were sent off onto the third, and hopefully final, formation lap of the race and your heart was jumping out of your chest in anticipation and nerves. The five red lights lit up, and went out. Max lunged for Carlos, Charles lunged for Max behind.

Carlos managed to stay in front as you bounced your legs nervously. For fourteen whole laps, Carlos managed to stay in front, and you couldn't be prouder of what he had already done. He had defended brilliantly, but Max managed to slither around him.

Everyone in the garage audibly gasped in disappointment, but his car was quicker. You thought that maybe Charles could keep Checo back, but he had DRS and eventually sailed past him. You heard Checo over the radio, saying Carlos needed to leave the space.

You couldn't help but giggle at it, but you were also scared that Carlos could possibly get a penalty. But, once Checo had scooted around Carlos, he stopped complaining. You were all gutted that the Ferrari 2-3 had been taken away, but you couldn't wipe the smile off your face at seeing Carlos in a podium position.

As the race slowly got towards the end, Charles decided he thought it would be fun to try and joust with Carlos for the P3. Everytime he tried to lunge down the inside, you audibly winced. At one point, they nearly made contact and you thought your heart was going to jump out of your throat.

The nerves you felt almost made you feel ill, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. You heard the radio beep in your ears, and you thought one of them was going to say that they had gotten damage from the other and couldn't finish the race.

Thankfully, it was the sweet sound of Carlos, telling them to 'Bring it home!'. You couldn't help but repeat the words as him and Charles hurtled down the main straight, practically side by side.

You took your headphones off and started cheering, but you needed to see Carlos as he pulled into the Parc Ferme. You were stood there, next to all of the Ferrari mechanics as the cameras were fixed onto Max.

As you waited for him, you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming sense of pride that he had done it. He didn't had a break through the whole race, and he had done absolutely brilliantly. After hugging the engineers, he spotted you and walked straight up to you.

"You did phenomenally!" you shouted over the noise, throwing your arms around his neck over the barrier. "That was exhausting," he laughed, pulling out of the hug.

"It might have been, but you hear that?" You said, stopping talking and gesturing over to the stands. "Max may have broken the record, but they're all cheering for you," you said, unable to stop smiling. "I am so proud of you," you gushed, pulling him for another hug.

"Go on, go and get ready for your podium," you smiled, watching as he went to go and do his interview with Nico. You ran to get a good spot under the podium, and cheered with everything you had as e was announced and walked out onto the podium.

The fans were screaming with you, and you wanted to frame the moment. He had raced so well this weekend, and you couldn't have been happier. Just getting to see him smile as he stood there, in the striking scarlet of Ferrari, was all you ever needed.

As the Dutch national anthem played, he found you in the crowd and sent you a sneaky wink as the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Even after being with him for a few years, you never got used to the little things that made you fall in love with him all over again.

Carlos was the last person to be presented with his trophy, and you couldn't help but think it was because he was the hero of the hour in Monza. You could tell by the smirk on his face that he was lapping up every second of it. He loved to be in the spotlight, and he completely deserved it.

He was motioning for the crowd to cheer louder, and louder they did cheer. He was their hero of the day, and he knew that. Hoisting the trophy in the air, the fans cheered, but none of them were as zealous as you. You jumped and clapped for him, waiting for the champagne to be popped open.

Carlos sprayed it at Checo and Max, before turning over to the crowd. He shook the bottle over everyone, and you felt some of the droplets land on you from the spray. The look of pure joy and elation on his face was beyond priceless, and you wanted to freeze time and stay there forever.

Eventually, they walked off the podium and you knew you would find Carlos in the motorhome. You struggled to shuffle through the hordes of delighted Ferrari fans and found yourself in the very crowded paddock.

It took a while, but you were in the Ferrari motorhome and your eyes were wandering around the place. "Y/N, driver's room," Charles told you as he walked by. He knew why you were there - well, everyone did.

You pretty much ran there, and you didn't even bother with knocking on the door. You wasted no time in flinging your arms around his neck and hugging him as hard as you could. Pulling back, you couldn't help but notice how good doing well looked on him.

He was practically glowing, his hair was ruffled to perfection and champagne was still practically dripping off him. "Well hello to you too," he smiled, putting his hands on your waist.

"You have no idea how proud of you I am right now," you said, moving your hands to his face. "You physically could not have done any better," you gushed.

"Thank you, I tried my best," he chuckled, looking down at you. Having you that proud of him made his heart flutter in his chest. After all, everything he did was for you, and having you there was better than any trophy he could ever get.

That smile on your face was nicer, more special, more decadent than any champagne or win. "You're brilliant," you told him, pulling his face closer to you. "Not as brilliant as you are," he said, stealing your lips with his. He tasted like champagne and victory, and there was simply nothing that could compare to it.

"You taste like champagne," you smirked against his lips, lapping up all of it. Sure, it was good on a normal day, but it tasted even better with success tied to it. "Tonight, you can have as much as you want," he said, pulling you back in.

Without breaking the kiss, Carlos picked you up and into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pushed the door closed, and victory had never tasted sweeter.

A/N - I love this man so much it's not even funny. He brought it home, he looked incredible while doing it, and he made us as proud as we could have possibly been. Vamos querida!

|masterlist|

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #fluff #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fluff #cs55

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