#time ever literally leaving me too weak to even rub my moisturizer in without getting lightheaded and out of breath

[bylertruther]

do u guys believe in signs from the universe or do you think ppl jus see wht they want to see 🧐

[entishramblings]

The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey. 

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @arandomfandomblog @moriamithril

[ppersonna]

indulgence - jjk | m

love of mine, won't you lay by my side and rest your weary eyes before we're out of time? give me one last kiss for soon such distance will stretch between our lips - as much as i ever could, city and colour

↳ summary- Sometimes your boyfriend Jungkook reminds you how much you love him by doing absolutely nothing at all.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.8k

↳ pairing- jungkook x reader

↳ genre- fluffy smut, smutty fluff, whatever you wanna call it. its got fluff and smut, established relationship

↳ warnings- oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, real hot love making, squirting? sure, unprotected sex (condoms are cool use them)

↳ a/n- lindy is in her feels apparently because this was supposed to be hot and kinky and i just made it real romantic but whatever dskgjkg. thanks to @sugarly-laysa​ for requesting jk smut i hope this is good for you, booboo  ily all thanks for reading!! feel free to come chat with me, request smth, tell me how your day is, etc etc etc.  enjoy cute babie jk being cute.

You’re not sure why the universe decided you are lucky enough to be the one to love Jeon Jungkook, but as you trudge into your apartment after an inexplicably horrific day at work, you realize you should thank your lucky stars for aligning just right to make him yours.

Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re home.  He’s too distracted at the sink, hands soapy as he scrubs at the dishes from the day.  He’s wearing those jeans you love, the ones that fit him tightly and show off his perfectly shaped ass and toned thighs.  He’s singing off key to his own songs, hips rolling in a minute version of his carefully practiced choreography.  He performs for the dishes only, unaware of the audience of one in the doorway.  

A smile that hasn’t broken through the cloud of despair all day makes its way on to your lips without you even noticing.

Jungkook is like the lighthouse in the storm.  He guides you home and keeps you safe from crashing and burning. His presence brings you safe harbor and you find yourself able to be at peace no matter what, as long as he’s there keeping his light on for you.

You don’t announce your presence.  You’re unwilling to end his show too early.  He continues scrubbing at pots, often flinging his watery hands around the room as he continues to dance like he’s performing at Seoul Olympic Stadium all over again.  Although his movements are jerky and unrefined now in his multitasking and his singing is definitely a pitch or two off, he pours his heart into the private performance.  

It makes your heart clench.  You love how much he loves his career, his life.  He’s grown up in it—it's the only world he knows and yet it still hasn’t tainted him.  He grew into a man capable of so much more than just singing and dancing, and you loved watching him blossom with every passing year.

Jungkook has clearly taken care to clean the entire house today.  You hadn’t asked him, and truthfully you never needed to.  He was as good of a partner as you could get.  He never felt you should be responsible for household tasks.  He took care of his own things, like a grown man should.  He adored it when you helped, washed his clothes for him or cleaned up his mess after a night of gaming, but whatever you gave to him, he did back for you plus some.

As you lean against the wall, staring at the love of your life popstar boyfriend pretending to be a popstar, wooden spoon as microphone and all, you recognize you’re the luckiest girl in Korea.  Maybe even the world.

Jungkook is pirouetting around as he hits his high notes of ‘ON’ and shakily ends his solo in a deep lunge.  It breaks you from your silent role, a laugh finally making its way out and he snaps his eyes open and blushes.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly.  He holds the spoon in both clasped hands, as if to signify he totally wasn’t just singing into it like a microphone.

“Hi,” you reply.  Your coat and shoes come off, bag hung on the hook, and you make your way to him. 

“You washed the dishes,” you state as you approach.  He looks confused for a moment.

“Yeah, I made lunch earlier so I wanted to get them cleaned up.”  His confusion is apparent, unable to decipher the look in your eyes.

You’re staring at him with heat, an undeniable hunger.  The fact that Jeon Jungkook is yours and is in your kitchen doing his own dishes hits you hard.  It soaks you to the core.  Maybe it’s the domestic side of you, but you’re absolutely salivating at the thought he cleaned the kitchen and his mess with no problem.  He didn’t even do it to impress you, he just did it.  And you’re aching for him.

You’re slowly lowering yourself to your knees and Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Wh-what are you doing? You just got home from work.” 

“I’m going to suck your cock.”  Your words are simple, and it makes him shiver.

“But why?”  The bulge in his pants grows regardless of his suspicion.

Your hands make their way up his solid thighs, muscles rippling under your favorite pair of jeans he owns, until they land at his button and fly.

“Because I really, really, really want to suck your cock until you cum down my throat.  Then I might do it again.”

He stifles a groan and nearly drops the wooden makeshift microphone from his grip.  

“Not that I’m complainin-ahhh...” he gasps as you pull his pants and underwear down to his knees and his cock springs free. “Shit—I mean I’m down but is there a reason?”

Your hands rub at his thighs once more and you smile sweetly at him.  

“Because I am in love with you.”

Jungkook is still confused. You know he wants to ask more, but your hand grips his length and all questions fly out of his mind as fast as they enter. 

“Okaaayy,” he sighs.  

He wants to tip his head back in bliss as you pump your hand, but he also wants to maintain eye contact with you.  How can he not? You’re gazing up at him as if he’s the one responsible for putting all the stars in the sky—like he lit every single one of them for you.  The intensity is intoxicating to both of you.

You can’t move your eyes away from him.  They trace over the lines of his face, the smoothness of his skin, the way his hair falls onto his forehead with just the perfect swoop.  You’re seeing him through fresh eyes for a moment, and it feels like you’re drunk.

“I love you,” you murmur as your lips move closer to him.  Jungkook sighs and lets his eyes close for a moment.  He can feel the heat of your breath on his tip, you’re sure of that, and as much fun as it is to tease him you can’t bring yourself to do it tonight when you’re so desperate to make him feel good.

“I love you too,” he coos. “Especially when you come home and wanna blow me immediately.”  He grins cheekily as he opens his eyes back up and looks at you.  Jungkook can’t stay serious in a situation to save his life.  Leave it to him to still try to make you smile when you’re about to milk his cock dry with your mouth.

“I should do it more often,” you assess as your tongue flicks out at the head.  You let it rub gently at the slit at the top where moisture has accumulated.  It tastes salty, it tastes like him.  

“You should?” He questions with a hiss at the feel of you.  “I mean, yeah, you should.”  He corrects himself and bites his lip.  Your tongue is still laving at the surface of his head, a sweet torture that makes his knees feel weak. 

“You did the dishes,” you repeat as your tongue now slides down his shaft.  It follows down the underside, the vein guiding you towards his pelvis and down to his balls.  You allow yourself to spend some time there, licking and sucking at them lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” he gasps. “If this is what I get for doing the dishes, I’ll do them m-more.”  

You hum in reply as you suction them into your mouth and swirl them gently.  Your hand remains on his thick length, gently pumping and caressing him to keep him stimulated.  You can tell he’s losing his mind.  He’s been caught off guard and is now getting his cock worshipped by you.  You’re still in your work clothes—oxford shirt and tight skirt.  It makes Jungkook even harder, if that is possible.  He likes the idea that you literally couldn’t wait another second to get his dick in your hot little mouth.

You release him from your mouth and he moans at the feeling of the air on the moistened skin.  

“Fuck,” he whines. “You’re so hot.”

You smile up at him again as you kiss his length, punctuating each spot on his dick with a press of your lips. You trail back up to the head where he’s leaked more pre-cum, and you waste no time in wrapping your lips around the tip and suckling lightly.

“Shit!” He yelps at the sudden pleasure.  “Oh, my god.”

He’s going to lose the ability to speak coherently, you both know it.  He can last until you’re taking him into your throat, then he may as well be speaking a foreign language.  You never understand what he’s saying except the occasional gasp of your name.  You can’t wait until he gets there tonight.  You love sucking him stupid.

Your mouth accepts more of him in, tongue lapping at any surface it can as you pull him in deeper to your mouth.  He’s sighing his ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s like a proper gentleman, and one soapy hand comes to rest at your hair.  He gently pushes back any bangs or stray sections of hair that threaten to impede your pursuit.  He holds your hair back gently and watches you close.

Doe's eyes look back at him and soon you’ve got him buried inside you.  Tip to the back of your throat, your nose buried in the light splatters of hair at his base.  He is whimpering now, can’t believe a few minutes ago he was washing the dishes and now he’s balls deep in your throat.  

“Babe, oh my god,” he’s trying hard not to stutter.  He feels like he could cum, but he wants more.  He begs his body to behave, to let you have your way with him.  “S-so good.”

It pleases you; the approval rolling over your body like fine silk.  His voice is shaky and getting close to the sexy, fucked out sound that has you dripping.  

You allow him to rest inside your throat for a moment, swallowing around him to allow him the feel of the tightness, before you’re pulling away and starting a pace of bobbing your head up and down on him.  You never let your eyes leave his.  Even when he’s closing them in pleasure, you maintain constant contact with his.

He looks back down at you and feels his body quake.  You look incredible, still all dressed up and made up, red lips wrapped around his cock and bobbing a pace that gets him closer to the edge than he’d like to admit.  

His cock feels heavy on your tongue and it’s exhilarating.  You almost wish you could be attached to his cock at all times, sucking him until he’s had his fill for a few moments, then returning to the action.  You kick yourself for all the times you’ve not been sucking his dick.

Your hand joins in to assist your plight, fist gripping the areas of his cock you cannot reach with your mouth alone and pumping in time with your head bobs.  His cock quickly slicks up with your saliva and it’s easy to stroke him with the lubrication.

“Ohhhhh, fuuuu-,” he whines.  You smile at yourself.  You’ve made it.  You’re at the place where Jungkook forgets his native language and begins speaking a new one that only he is capable of translating.  He groans out unintelligible syllables, and it makes you go even faster knowing he’s past the point of no return.  

“Be-,..” he gasps. “Bayb-... Gonna cum.”  He warns.  His thighs are quivering and you allow the hand that isn’t stroking his perfect cock to completion to rest on one solid muscle, hoping it will help still the seizing in his legs.   You don’t slow down, don’t stop for a single second as you know he’s so near the edge.

You can tell by his facial expressions when he’s about to hit his high.  His moans go from loud and echoing around the room to silent, mouth agape in noiseless rapture.  His eyes close tight and his body tenses.  If he was naked, like he normally is when you’re doing this, you would see his abs tense so hard that a defined six-pack is on display like a little reward for sucking his dick so well.  His neck veins become more prominent and you can tell that with just a few more sucks, a little lick here and a nice hard pump there,

He’s cumming.  You feel the heat of his seed spill into your mouth and you slow your motions but don’t stop, never stop, as you coax as much of him out as you can.  His silence is broken as he groans in time with each pulse of his cock.

It’s a few seconds later when he comes back to reality, when he’s restored with the ability to speak a language you both know.

You pull away from him only when you feel his cock weaken, soften, inside of your mouth.  You release him and give him a show of your open mouth and hot white cum loaded on your tongue.  Like you want to savor each drop, not let a single drip go uncherished. It’s a fine dessert, you want to appreciate the flavor forever.

The act makes Jungkook groan.

“What the fuck,” he pants.  “That was so fucking good.”

You smile and close your mouth, allowing the pooled liquid to slide down your tongue.  For the first time that night, you allow yourself to close your eyes and relish.  It’s a familiar taste, the flavor of Jeon Jungkook that is incredibly addictive.  It tastes like home.  It tastes like love.  A high rushes through your veins, more powerful than any drug, of that you’re certain.  You feel drunk and euphoric.

He notices this and smiles at you.  His cock is still out, hanging out of his jeans awkwardly, but neither of you care.  He cups a hand on the side of your face and lets his thumb stroke your cheek gently.  

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers.  You open your eyes now, level them to look at the man above you.  He holds your face delicately and the penetrating stare he returns is adoring.  You are his prized possession—in his eyes you are appraised higher than any of the glittering gold awards lining your shelves.  

“I love you,” he states.  “Not just because you sucked the life out of me.”

There it is again, his cheeky jesting that captured you in the first place.  You slip a laugh from your lips as your hands unbutton your top.  You’re staring at each other and intention is written in the gaze.  He never wavers from your watch.  He doesn’t move his glance elsewhere as your top falls to the floor and your bra soon joins it.  He’s maintaining his firm sight as you slip the skirt off.  

Jungkook pushes the jeans to the floor and steps out of them.  There’s no talking, no dialogue.  No dirty talk, no kinky banter.  His plain shirt joins the rest of the discarded clothing items and he stalks to you and lays you down on the hardwood floor of your kitchen. 

It’s so heated, the surrounding energy, that it warms your skin in the otherwise cool air.  Jungkook radiates so much it’s palpable.  He presses his lips to yours and kisses you deeply, tongue immediately sliding inside as he’s desperate to taste himself on you, to solidify the notion you are his and he is inside you, both physically and metaphorically.  

His hand runs down your body as you kiss and suck at each other's lips.  It’s like kissing him for the first time all over again the way your body reacts.  Your veins feel as if they’ve been dipped into lava, it boils through your entire body and threatens to melt your core.  His fingers rub at your breasts for a moment.  He’d ordinarily spend time on them, but tonight is different.  Tonight there is one mission between the two of you, and that is to have him buried inside your tiny cunt as soon as he can.

The hand slips further. It caresses the smooth skin of your stomach and slowly sweeps down to your core where he feels the full extent of your love, of your arousal.  You’re drenched and have been since you first spotted him with his hands deep in soapy water and his own lyrics belting out of his mouth.   He doesn’t bother with foreplay—there’s no need tonight.  He’s sure he’ll be able to slip inside you with ease.  He allows a finger to run over your clit and gather up wetness there, before he drags it up and pulls away from your lips to lick your taste into his mouth.  It’s only fair he has you inside as you do him.  

The act has you gasping for air, lungs feeling as if you’re breathing underwater.  

He lines his cock up easily, finding it as if it’s magnetized to point to the true north of your center.  

His lips press against yours again as he pushes into you.  The stretch burns, matching the burning of the blood and the heat on your skin.  The feeling of him stretching you and filling you make you feel whole and complete.  You love the way his head nudges at your cervix, the way it kisses the tip with each thrust.

Jungkook sighs happily as he sinks in to the hilt.  You’re replying with your own assortment of moans and praises, kissing his lips hungrily as he starts movement between your hips.  His pace is slow and gentle.  He pulls out nearly all the way before he spears himself in again. He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the way your plump lips still covered in red lipstick opens and closes in awe and in fulfillment.  You’re boring into his own gaze, attempting to convey just how right he feels, how you’ve never felt an intense love-making as the one you’re engaged in now on the hardwood of your kitchen. 

You’re tight around him and he’s sure he’s close to the edge again.  He feels your channel tighten with each thrust in and it encourages him to ever so gently increase his speed until the sound of skin slapping is timing out a pace like a metronome.  He indulges in the feeling of your silken walls and the way it slicks up his cock and pulls him back in tight, desperately.

He lets a hand run back down you, meets your joined centers at the hood of your clit where he rubs circles around the nub.  It hits you hard as he murmurs his love and affection for you.  He whispers his devotion to you, to your body and soul, to your cunt.  He tells you he never wants to pull out of you, wishes he could bury himself inside the wet heat of your pussy for eternity. He’s never felt like this before, and he lets you know with each thrust of his hips, each roll of your clit around his finger.  

Your orgasm is approaching, you feel it not just in your core but nearly to your very bones.  It’s slithering its way up and wraps around your body, threatening to take over at any moment's notice.  You notice your words have run dry, that the sounds leaving you are as unintelligible as his and you realize you’re not so different.  He’s fucking you stupid and you feel it. 

“C-cumming!” You whine as your thighs tighten.  He powers through and continues his motions. 

“Cum for me,” he whispers.  “Cum, my love.  I love making you cum.”  

He doesn’t want to be dirty, doesn’t want to make you think of whips or chains that are fun on other nights right now.  He wants you to think of him.  Only him and the way the simple act of him being inside you and loving you has you coming completely undone.  You need no more, your body listens to Jungkook’s coaxing and releases you completely.  It hits like a hurricane and makes your body shake.  You feel wetness flooding your legs and if you were conscious enough, you’d recognize you’re quite literally squirting, but all you can feel is hot, white, deeply rooted pleasure that has you screaming and your body singing.  

Jungkook loses it as you soak his cock.  His body reacts to the knowledge he just made you squirt all over his dick from his slow and methodical pace, and he’s losing himself inside you.  His cock pulses with the intensity of his orgasm, as if it hadn’t just been given one earlier that rocked him entirely.  He pumps himself into you and stills as he feels himself finally stop filling you.  He doesn’t leave, still desires the ability to remain inside you all day, every day.

He kisses you again.  You’re panting and slick and wet and realizing now that you’ve just creamed yourself and your boyfriend on the floor of your kitchen, but when he kisses you, it doesn’t matter.  You don’t care as he presses his chest into yours and kisses you so hard he forgets to breathe, forgets he needs anything at all other than you. His body reminds him of his mortality and he pulls away, cum slicked hand coming up to move your sweaty hair from your face.

There’s no talking. There isn’t a need. You exchange enough between each other with the passion in your eyes and the softness in your grasp.

He holds you like he’s afraid to lose you and he lays himself down on the floor beside you, cock still resting inside your warmth.  He strokes his hand through your hair and down your back and over the hills and valleys of your curves. He sketches into your skin his love by the graze of his fingers and sucks your lips to his to embrace you fully.  He loves you.  You love him.  You both have never felt a love like this, one that encompasses you completely and shelters you from anything else.

Jungkook, always unable to maintain a sense of decorum, idly thinks he should wash the dishes more often.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Who is in Control? - Part 2

A/N: Unedited smut because ya girl is ALWAYS thirsty for Henry Cavill. 🔥🔥🔥 Catch up on Part 1 HERE!  Masterlist

August Walker x Reader 

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2570k

Warnings: dirty filthy CONSENSUAL smut, language (Just don’t scroll past the cut if you don’t want to read smut)

******************************************

“FUCK!” Ethan slammed his hands abruptly on the table. “Damnit, we missed him. He’s gone.”

“We’ve searched nearly every smelly crevice London has to offer. We were so damn close!”

“Lane’s gotta be with him. If we hurry, we can still sniff out his tracks.”

Ethan eyed Y/N suspiciously; “Think Y/N. Where would he go next?”

Y/N scanned through every memory she could muster. Her frontal lobe throbbed as she rubbed the spot aggressively.

“Hazlitt’s! That’s where we’d go.”

“You sure?”

“I know it. 100%”

“Why there?”

“I’d read to him when we were in bed together. Hazlitt’s is a hotel. He surprised me when he actually listened one night. I was reading an autobiography about essayist William Hazlitt. He was the one to find out William had died there. My morbid curiosity found his gesture macabre yet sweet. It was his way of showing he’d cared without saying anything at all. And before you say anything ridiculing, don’t.”

“Shit, what the hell did you do to him? No wonder he’s on a damn rampage.”

Dryly chuckling, Y/N didn’t quite know how to follow up, fumbling over her fucked up feelings once again.

“It was our place where we could just be ourselves. Away from the world and constant bloodshed. No alterative motives, no plan of action, just us. If he’s as heartbroken as he’s letting on, I bet that’s where we’ll find him. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy a trip down memory lane, hm?”

“I underestimated you, Y/N. Fucking the information out of him AND tricking him into thinking it was love. You’re a fucking genius.”

She coldly glared at him, her mind already two steps ahead of Hunt pissing him off to no end.

“Seriously. When did it stop being a mission?”

“The SAC told me to keep an eye on him, make sure he stayed in line under a watchful eye. They teamed us together as an experiment. I can’t pinpoint when, it just happened Ethan. I mean we’ve worked side by side in the field for three years! THREE YEARS.”

“He’s scared of you. You’re his one weak link.”

She mulled his comment over. It was a truth she wasn’t quite ready to admit. Yes, she wanted to make him hurt but killing him was an entirely different story. She prayed her strength was hiding, just waiting to surface when called upon.

“Clock’s running. Let’s go.”

So, Y/N followed him through a skinny corridor alley getting to the car at an inhumanely speed.

----------

Ethan and Y/N surveyed the perimeter looking for an obtainable entrance point. The dumbfounded clerk had confirmed a Mr. Patrick Bateman checking in. Taking after his favorite character, Y/N knew what room they’d find him in. His impeccable taste for detail consistently blew her away. Room 916. No doubt in her mind. The day they met, or as he likes to better describe; the first time he ever felt noticed.

“Let me go in first. Try and reason with him.”

Irritation came off him in waves crashing nonverbally disagreeing with Y/N.

“Too dangerous. This isn’t negotiable.”

Undermining his own words Y/N spoke; “I’m not asking for permission, I’m telling.”  

Just then, the door swung open, Y/N sauntered towards a seeable back exit adjacent from Hunt’s point of sight. Walls bare of color and life lined the narrow hallway. The dimness bordered into eerie. An unknown sound skyrocketed her frenzied nerves. 913…914…915…

The garish gold numbers stood conspicuously still. Invisible weights kept her place. A knock resonated off the white dilapidated door.

Nothing. No response, not a sense of movement. Can’t fool me that easily Walker.

“I know you’re there—watching me through that stupid peephole wondering what in the literal hell I’m doing here.”

A chain clanged loose as the door astutely opened. Never had she met a man as devilishly handsome before. Towering over her 5ft7 frame, he smirked.

“Don’t give me that look. We need to talk.”

August didn’t flinch a muscle remaining inaudible. All of a sudden enigmatic emptiness consumed her.

“By all means, please come in.”

Good to see his charm and charisma hadn’t yet abandoned him.

“We both know you didn’t come alone. How long I do we have?”

“15 minutes, maybe 20 if you’re lucky. And I dare say luck isn’t on your side today. Why did you leave?”

“Getting straight to the point then my love?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Walker. I’m seriously not in the mood.”

The air conditioner hummed in the background forcing goosebumps to prickle her skin. An unexplainable chill drifted around them; a veiled noose of destruction lingering just out of sight. Y/N walked towards the window gazing up at the luminated stars. 

She’d always been fond of constellations and their profound mark on the universe. Heavy footsteps followed making their way to her. His breathe tickled along her collarbone standing mere inches away. His hands reached for hers interlacing their fingers placing a wet kiss to the exposed column of her neck.

“How far are you prepared to go?”

Her neck slanted at him in childish annoyance.

Y/N snorted; “I will go further than you. However, many weapons you’re willing to bring, I’ll bring more. However low you will go; you will never dig deeper than me. I will win, because what this will cost me in pain, I will pay. My resources are limitless, I will always outbid you, and I will never, ever back down. Am I clear?”

The seriousness in her tone amused him giggling quietly. His rebuttal was quick and brash.

“You must seriously hate the person underneath that attractive flesh of yours.”

“Already to the petty part of the evening? Always a sour puss, Auggie.”

Closing the space between them, August pinned his upper body to Y/N’s back. Her head landed powerfully on his shoulder; his fingers brushed her pulse point teasingly.

“Neither of us are getting out alive darling. Have you paid your penance? Shall we be rejoined in the afterlife or reign in hell? I do wonder.”

Ignoring him Y/N pressed further; “Where’s the plutonium? Death is but a ploy of distraction.”

“Clever girl. Reverse psychology won’t work on me, Y/N. Try again.”

His right hand wrapped entirely around her delicate neck into a light chokehold securing her in place.  

A hushed rough voice similar to a forgotten whisper slipped through; “You’re the one who has to live with your choice. Everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will.”

His left hand stroked the button of her jeans undoing them in record time. The zipper was the next offensive item to go before he shoved her pants around her wobbly knees. Paralyzed in fear, Y/N didn’t risk moving a single muscle.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Here, now, pressed against this chilled glass, exposed for the whole world? I’ll gamble just one glance from a stranger down below will get your rocks off.”

His next words terrified her; “Only I can make you feel this alive. Tell me I’m wrong.”

She fought the searing intrusion growing between her thighs. He spoke directly to her reflection like he was talking to a ghost.

A concoction of pants and grunts were the only distinguishable noise escaping Y/N. August’s hand slithered underneath her blouse groping her covered breasts. Still she didn’t move to stop him. She was putty in his glorious hands ready to be molded into whatever he needed or craved. immersed terror sent a jolt of unexplainable excitement to her core. 

Y/N cowered ashamed of her body’s biological reaction. But something in her brain told her to let him see the demon hiding in plain sight. Suddenly, Y/N reached back fisting the hair along his neck and pulled, hard.

Her behavior shifted on the cusp of absurdity. The ruthless killer long submerged had finally met her match, someone just as vile as she believed herself to be.

“You’re not the only cold-blooded asshole in the world. Hate to burst your villainous bubble.”

“I know, my darling. I’ve waited so patiently to see you in this darkened light of misery. After this, you won’t be able to go back to work without seeing every speckle of shit sprinkled before your eyes. CIA, FBI, MI6, they’re over and you my dear play a dear role in their long-awaited demise. Once you cross this line, which you undoubtfully will, Agent Y/N is dead.”

August swept her hair to one side nipping a trail along her collarbone. Her blood pressure steadied showing him she was calm, in control, and spontaneously impulsive.

Gauging his reaction, Y/N leaned into August; “I know. You’re my Hades and I’m the beloved Persephone. We’re written in destiny, baby. You and me.”

Her voice expressed a detached, cunning, and malevolent mischief. Her words made his skin crawl and cock harden. She was truly magnificent.  

“Did you know that I’ve dreamt of your blood spilling while I fucked you raw? Holding a silver tipped blade on that very neck of yours, watching the fear grow as I rode you like a wild stallion. There’s no more denying the predatory urges I desire with you, for you....to you. We could have the world at our finger tips, Auggie. Quite frankly, you don’t scare me a bit and it pisses you off.”

August bit down sinking his teeth into her peachy flesh leaving a crimson imprint in his wake. Y/N yelped; her underwear flooded with moisture. Her feet wobbled closer to the glass as August shoved her forward. With her breasts pressed against the window, she heard the fasten of his zipper undo. Her nipples hardened in response. August’s dick pressed vigorously into her ass cheeks hitting every spot but the one she wanted. A feral growl betrayed her as she pushed back in resistance.

“Mmhm, who’s the horny one now?”  

“I’ve grown familiar with villains that live in my bed…”

The lace grazing her hips snapped painfully watching her panties fall to the floor.

“Ouch! Easy asshole.”

“Vile words from such a pretty mouth. Obviously, there’s lessons to still be achieved with you yet.”

“You foolish brute. You should be thanking me for covering your tracks, saving that scrumptious ass of yours. Oh, my pet…when you will realize you are the one at my disposal now?”

Finally, skin to skin August lined up with her entrance. His tip rubbed teasingly against her parted folds pushing in a few inches. His shallow thrusts only spurred her on. He didn’t dare let up on the vice grip of her hips. An unnaturally strained whimper strangled the surrounding room. Pre cum leaked from the tip stirring the aching in their bellies.

“You have no idea how disturbingly gratifying it is to have found an equal, a partner of sorts with a taste for blood and sadism.”

His mocking grew old quickly as his hands continued their firm hold.

“We put Bonnie and Clyde to shame. Pathetic for running, idiotically oblivious to their own demise that lot. They didn’t appreciate the art of murder. The true pleasure of control. No room for impulse or error. Unappreciative of valuing a method to morbid madness.”

Without a word, he sunk in Y/N in one quick push. Her hands jutted out leaving imprints along the steamed window.

“Ah, fuck Auggie.”

Again, August snapped forwards unrelenting in his cruel pace. Y/N met him each and every movement in their ferocious dance of dominance. She squeezed her pelvic muscles painstakingly tight around his cock. August’s eyes rolled to the back of his head attempting to picture anything to keep him from busting that very second.

“Hunt will be arriving soon. We can run, start anew, create chaos elsewhere without any government supervision. Say the word and I’m yours.”

Y/N barely made out his panted speech due to the pounding of blood running through her ear canals crashing like waves. She was too turned on, too lost left unable to process what August was offering instead moaning raucously loud.

Slapping of skin resonated as their ends soon approached desiring nothing more than to cum. His balls slapped against her as his cum dribbled down her inner thighs. He rammed harder causing Y/N to stumble remaining deep inside her. August halted all movements finding a pair of sapphire eyes staring into his. Y/N shifted her hips in hopes of resume.

“Fucking move, Walker. I want to cum.”

“What’s your decision; orgasm or death?”

Silence stilled; August’s patience was disappearing at an alarming rate. He rutted upwards into her forcing an exhale from her lungs.

“You embarrass yourself with the question if you didn’t already know the answer.”

Anger blinded him compelling him to rip her face towards him. In his moment of rage, August thrusted powerfully reading her body like the back of his hand. She was on the cusp of orgasming and he took full advantage of that knowledge.

Barely a whisper graced his ears; “Yes, forever yes.”

Her pussy constricted pulling him in deeper than ever before as they fucked like wild animals. Taking whatever offered succumbing closer to orgasmic ecstasy.

“Good girl.”

August stiffened bending Y/N at the waist driving violently into her dripping cunt. Not more than four thrusts later, August tensed feeling Y/N constrict around his length sending a shiver down his spine. Breathy grunts could be heard through the walls as he filled her with his sticky cum. She devoured every drop placing her hands on his ass keeping him in place at her sweet spot. Her orgasm overtook her like a summer thunderstorm on a midnight sky. 

She quivered speechless as she surrendered to his touch. This breath tickled the back of her glistening neck. Hot white emission gushed out of him painting a mural in her womb. They didn’t move from their current predicament still coming down from their highs. All too soon, August removed himself tucking himself back into his pants. Y/N stayed in place untrusting of her jelly legs.

“Shit, I needed that.” A tiny queef escaped her now drenched lips watching in awe as small spurts of his juice ran down her legs like raindrops. She swiped a finger against the white liquid sucking it dry. August felt his cock twitch in his pants wanting to fuck her all over again.

“We need to get out of here now.” Tossing her a towel, she cleaned herself observing August scramble his life remnants together.

“Where to next?”

That devilish smile she so longingly adored frighteningly arose to life, his pupils darkened at her questioning nature, before reaching his hand towards hers. She accepted interlocking their fingers as one. In two seconds, time, August pulled her into his grasp kissing her in passionately. Their kiss was messy, vile, and monstrous. Y/N already craved another round but knew better than to push. After all, they were on a time constraint.

“India. We’re off to India my dove.”

“I hear their Murg Makhani is quite delectable.”

“I have a friend in Kashir but we must move quickly. We need something to knock Hunt off our scent.”

“I’ve just the idea.”

Just one glance was all it took for August to read her mind effortlessly.

“By all means lead the way.”

A wickedly foul smirk scrabbled to the surface, unearthed from a long-sealed lockbox.

“You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.…”

~~~~

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[goodproofingwater]

Baker Girl pt 2. | Alfie Solomons x Reader

Word count: 1810

Warnings: Graphic unprotected sex, domination, submission and all that jazz

Notes: I am so sorry this has taken me literally months. I’m not sorry for using this gif for everything tho.

It had been a month since you had the pleasure of meeting the man who’s name was on the bakery, and every night since he had graced your dreams. Never before had you been spoken to like that, nor had you been so aroused simply by the way someone looked at you. Each day you dressed better than you ever had done before you had met him on the off chance that he would be visiting again and each day you were disappointed.

And so when you were given the task to open the bakery an hour before anyone else was there it didn’t even cross your mind that there could have been an ulterior motive; that the order could have come from anyone but your manager.

Slipping into the bakery you began to prepare the bowls and trays that were required for the baking, and you were so lost in your task that you didn’t hear the soft click across the floor, his cane usually alerting people to his presence completely lost to you.

He stood and watched as you placed more bowls in their correct place, and when it became clear that you weren’t going to look up of your own accord, he cleared his throat and smirked as you dropped a bag of flour, a cloud of white making you disappear for a moment and the dust settling on hair which had been perfect.

“Fucking hell--- Oh..” Your eyes widened as you saw who was standing before you, your mind immediately darting through a multitude of situations before settling on one where you got fired. This was your chance to show your boss that you could handle the extra responsibility, and you had fucked it up.

“Bit jumpy are ya?” Are his words, a smirk that you don’t understand washing over his lips as he moves closer to you, the innocent expression that you don’t realise you are pulling solidifying on your face and only serving to confirm his intentions.

“I’m so sorry sir I didn’t mean-- I didn’t see you there and I was just trying to get everything ready--- Usually there are people here to help--”

“Oh so you’re blaming ya manager for not putting extra people on aye?” He smirks even wider, moving closer to you and towering over you, the cane which some would see as a weakness only serving to make him seem even more dominating, and you weren’t sure you would be able to move past him even if you wanted to. Which you most certainly didn’t. Being cornered by Alfie Solomons was quite literally a dream come true.

“N-no Mr Solomons Sir, I just...” He took another step closer to you and your mouth began to lose all moisture, the proximity allowing you to smell his soap, to feel his breath, and it took everything in you not to bite your lip.

“You just?” He raised his eyebrows and willed you to continue, and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. Should you remain professional? Should you give into the lust that you swore you could feel radiating from him too?

“I-I’m here by myself Sir.. a-and I wanted to do a good job.”

“Yes you are here by yourself aren’t you... why do you think that is?” He leaned slightly, his face in mock confusion and you were beginning to realise that this was not your manager trying to give you extra responsibility. Alfie had requested that you be here alone.

“Did you want to see how well I could work Sir?” You spoke, trying your best to keep the flirtatious tone you couldn’t help to the minimum in case you had misunderstood, “Or perhaps there’s a recipe you wanted to teach me one-on-one? A family secret which you want to start selling in the bakery?”

“Oh there’s a recipe I want to show you alright but it ain’t got nothing to do with the bakery.” His cane dropped to the floor as he dipped to pick you up by your thighs, placing you on the counter that you usually worked on, your dress now coated in the flour that had settled from it’s eruption but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as his lips found yours.

Was this real? Were you still asleep and your subconscious was getting even more carried away with itself than usual? Whatever it was you were desperate for it to continue, and when he ripped the buttons of your dress open you moved back from the kiss in shock.

“Looks like you’re going to have to work with your tits on show aye?” He growled, pushing down your cotton bra and taking your breasts in his hands. His thumb began to circle one nipple while his lips latched on to the other, your hands finding their way into more flour as you held yourself up and let him do what he wanted. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the possibility that he wasn’t joking. It was just like the most powerful man in London to want to watch his latest conquest have to work indecently.

Your fingers were moving on his shirt but he was impatient, and he moved his thumb from one breast and replaced it with his tongue before he moved your hands to his belt, and you unbuckled and unbuttoned him faster than you thought was possible.

“Such an eager little girl ain’t ya?” He spoke, “So fuckin’ eager to please”

“Yes Sir I am... I just want to be a good girl for you.” The words seemed to send him crazy, and he pushed back from you only to push up your dress and pull your panties clean from your body.

“Are you intent on ruining all my clothes sir?” You couldn’t help yourself and you soon regretted the back chat, his hand finding your face and gripping you with such force that you were sure most women would be scared.

“I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me?” He spoke, his tone forceful and dominant, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each syllable

“I will sir..”

“Did I fucking say you could talk?” An eyebrow quirked as he spoke and you shook your head as best you could, the smirk on his face returning when you obeyed his order. “That’s right.. now if you say one more word when you’re not spoken to i’ll make sure you have to work in nothing but your fuckin dress you understand me? I’ll take this bra and ya broken panties and put them on the wall for all to see”

You weren’t sure if he was being serious, but if there was anyone who would do that it was him. And so you nodded and allowed yourself to become even more subservient than you had intended on being, but in all honest his dominance was getting you going so much that it wasn’t a chore.

Before you knew it, a finger had pushed inside of you, his digit bending up against your spot as if he had known your body for years and when you moaned out for him he smirked even wider, slipping another finger in and beginning to finger fuck you perfectly, applying just the right amount of pressure inside of you and you could barely control yourself.

“So fuckin’ needy aren’t ya? Bet ya’d get on ya knees in the middle of this bakery with everyone around if I asked wouldn’t ya?”

And your body responded for you, tightening around his fingers as you nodded, and he pulled his fingers from you only to slip them in your mouth.

“I can’t tell ya how much I want to feel the back of your throat with my cock love. But unfortunately you’ve got a full days work to do. So instead I’ll tell ya what I’m going to do. I’m going to slip my cock inside of ya.. and I’m going to fuck you better than any man ever has.” If this was anyone else you would have called him a cocky prick, but instead you nodded and swallowed, keeping your mouth firmly around his fingers

“If you’re a good girl I’ll let you cum.. but if you’re not..” he shook his head and looked at the time, “You’ll have to wait all fuckin’ day to touch yourself and give yourself a release. Cause I’ll leave ya on the edge and stay here all day just to watch you fuckin’ squirm.”

You moaned around his fingers at the satisfaction of his domination, and he moved inside of you without warning. To say he was huge was an understatement, and you had never been so glad that someone had stretched you out with their fingers first.

Your innocent expression became even more of that of a submissive, tears forming in your eyes as he angled his cock to rub generously against your spot, the hand which wasn’t in your mouth gripping the table to keep it steady as he fucked you so hard that you knew it was going to be a struggle to stand all day.

It was the fastest you had ever gotten so close, and when you whimpered on his fingers he pulled them back and kissed your fiercely, “Are you going to fuckin’ cum for me love?” but you knew better than to answer when he had threatened you with edging, and the smirk on his face told you that you made the right decision.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl for me,” He grunted, and when you moaned and gripped the table in desperation he moved to kiss your neck as he whispered, “Fuckin cum for me, there’s a good girl.”

And so you did, and you came hard. As much as you wanted to call him a cock prick, he really had fucked you better than any man ever had, and you shook around him so violently that he had to hold your waist to keep you still as he came deep inside of you.

Spent and exhausted, he allowed himself a moment of weakness as he rested his head on your shoulder, and you found yourself unable to move from him, desperate not to do anything that would lead him to punish you.

It was a full 5 minutes before he pulled out, and you looked up at him with eyes full of lust, knowing that if he wanted to keep you there longer you would let him. You would let him do anything as long as he made you cum like that again.

“You’ve got 20 minutes before your shift actually starts. Go home and put a new dress on, you’re indecent.” And with that he gave you a subtle wink and walked out, leaving you to deal with the mess you had made.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Without Question (11)

Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Content: the void

Warnings: ...no Steve?

Word Count: It’s like places and my own emotions taunting me through nostalgia about where exactly am I after one entire year. You know what...I am a bit different, with more stories than before, more experience and more incidents to inspire me to keep writing and keep moving forward. I know I’ll find a way. I jsut get scared when I don’t see the straight path. I’ll find my way.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

You are back. Back in the void.

The emptiness does not seem that eerie this time; its familiarity is nothing but welcoming, for you can see nothing but yourself. And you can see yourself a bit too clearly in this otherwise dark space.

“Am I dead?” You ask the void, looking everywhere as if searching for someone.

“No one is ever dead,” a familiar voice calls out from somewhere in that comforting dark, the hoarseness toning down with every syllable to give way to something...galactic.

“Your...your voice.” You do not know how to describe what you just heard, something that was nothing like what you had been hearing these past few days. “It’s...beautiful,” you exhale at this illuminating confusion inside your heart.

It feels different. The presence.

“Our chords have varying vibrations on different planets,” the soothing voice, like a melodic harp coming once again from this sea of black, “this variant that you hear is the one with no intervention.”

“Wow.” You do not realise when that word leaves you. It just does. “So...I’m...not dead. But I’m no longer on earth. Does that mean we won?”

It is hard to make out the shape at first but as the figure takes further steps to close the distance between the two of you, you feel your lips part, your eyes go wide and your lungs pause at the towering structure of what was once deemed as the female of the monstrosity of her species. Long sleek black legs going up to form a torso twice as wide and long as yours with more ripped muscles than your one combined chubby belly. Slender arms with equally ripped muscles swung on either side before the steps paused and lips darker than vantablack stretched in a smile while a wide set of eyes filled with their personal set of galaxies looked down at you.

“Yes,” she declared with a nod of her perfectly shaved head that stretched a bit more than a human’s at the back, almost predator like but more subtle, “we won.”

.

“So you knew you would be the end of your species?”

The question is put a bit softly, not knowing what medium is letting your voice flow with such tenderness to the giant alien that is taking you on a slow walk somewhere she thinks ‘you will love to see’. It’s nice, this feeling of not having to hold any grudges or ill-will, of not being hosts and parasites, just two creatures from different parts of the universe walking in nothingness, talking like they are catching up.

“I did, yes. This was one of the reasons the old commanders had put a stop on recruiting anyone from my family in the armies. Or anyone who even had a sixty-seven per cent match with my DNA.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. The only reason I was able to join the army was that the old commander died and certain rules were changed. My mother had been quite adamant on preventing me from joining the army. But she left behind an entire plan to reveal the big secret and get away from everyone who would be after my life once everything went public.”

You stop short, a muted gasp escaping your lips while she takes about two huge steps before stopping to search for you.

“Your mother was the old commander?”

She nods.

“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.”

Her long fingers swish away the statement like it’s no big deal. “We’re used to disappointing our elders. Nothing new. My mother knew how brutal it was going to be for me once the truth came out. Well, it is always brutal for time eaters.”

“...time eaters.”

She stops and smiles at you, and once again you are caught in the literal stars inside her eyes. How is she real? How is any of this real?

“Yes. We travel through multiple timelines for what all we lack. Food, home, peace.” Her pace slows a little, making you wonder whether it’s for you to catch up to her or for something that she remembers. “This time it was for life itself.”

Life itself. How easy it all sounds. Your most disastrous days. Most overwhelmingly beautiful too. And with every passing second- if there even is a concept of time in this place- a sombre layer of one morbid thought settles in. She notices it too. The slight furrow of your brows. That tuck of your lower lip under your teeth, trying to do away with the perfect skin, wanting to tear where it could easily come out and then gnaw at it for some more- looking for the weak points again and again while your eyes do not seem to focus at anything in particular, your gait becoming somewhat not straight, sometimes stepping sideways when your legs seem to not want to balance on a straight path. It was all there. She can see all of it.

“What is it?” she finally asks. Gods! You still not used to that voice.

“No, I just- it got me thinking that you are so powerful and-” you raise your hands to gesture at her magnificence- “not to mention majestic. You could have easily killed me. Killed us all. But you hid inside me. Why didn’t you?”

She stops, tilting her head up and forwards just a little. “We’re here,” her voice declares, making you turn in the direction she is looking in.

And before you can stop it from happening, your jaw drops at the sight of the galaxies and their cluster of vibrant clouds all spread in front of you like performers of a show just for you. Your eyes take in every detail, turning moist at this unforgettable sight.

“Oh, but why would I kill the very reason I was born to make, Y/N? Why would I kill the reason my home abandoned me? Why would I kill the person I was meant to fall in love with?”

Suddenly it’s easy to look away from the galactic splendour. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

.

“Inter-species intimacy was always frowned upon. The penalty being death for both. Both bloodlines. My mother had seen my future at birth. She knew what I brought. But she wanted me to live and love. And I hated her for this every moment of my existence. Till she made me see my future.”

You do not shift where you sit, looking at her figure cocooning itself by drawing her legs closer to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, engulfing herself for protection.

“What did you see?”

“Death. Destruction. War. All that we were. All that we will be. All of it always stopping at you. Never going beyond you.”

All you can do is gulp down the elegance with which she describes your presence in her life. What else can you possibly do? You are the reason she is the last of her species. You want to apologise. But she goes ahead and speaks first.

“My mother knew it would change me. Showing me my future. And she was ready for it.”

She raises her hand and an ellipse tears through the space to show her and an equally beautiful and elegant but older version of her standing by her side. Her mother.

What would you do, if I told you about your fate? Her mother asked.

If I told you that the rivers of dimension flowed in a specific manner just so you could be born, would you believe me? Or would it be better to say that your obscure but ordinary self was created to cross paths with certain people during your lifetime; that you were made to do the inevitable of tormenting souls as you ached to nurture yours, waning in the hopes of finding love; that you did find solace in arms of a soul you least expected it from.

What if I told you that you were never destined to meet a man- a man out of time, fighting for what was right, saving the world and wanting to sacrifice himself for the greater good- but you put yourself in his path and saved his life?

What if I told you that in doing so, you drove your world to destruction?

Would you still do it?

You can see her look at her mother with the very stars, this time with moisture running down.

Without question. She answers. Her mother takes her face in her palm and plants a kiss on her forehead before turning to dust and flying away into the emptiness.

You do not realise when the tears leave your eyes. Or when they were formed, for that matter.

“I knew from the second I saw you that you were suffering. And that you were going to die,” she states, her voice running a little coarse, her head still low, “and without thinking I made you my host to burn away the sickness. I know it wasn’t my place but I could not bear to see you die.”

You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. “Oh, sweetheart-”

“I know,” she interjects with the warmest smile you have seen on her, “I know you like him. You love him.”

The stars in her eyes change a hue to a bit jaded vibration. You take her hand in yours, sitting there for a few moments just like this. In peace, looking at the universe in front of you two.

“I wish we’d met in the right timeline,” you finally whisper to her, your head resting on her arm, “so I could know what it would be like to fall in love you.”

You feel her fingers grip you in affirmation. “I wish the same, my saviour.”

You sigh, not getting tired of this view. “So, what now?”

Her thumb rubs at the back of your hand, caressing you till it has etched the tiniest groove in its memory. “I have never seen my future beyond this point.”

“...oh.”

“But that won’t stop me from making things right.”

[bangtantannie]

See You Later

Word Count 1.8 K

Genre: ANGST

Warning: MAJOR character death (if you cry easily, prepare the tissues because I cried writing this imma be honest)

A/N:  Hellooo~~~ I have returned from my little cave. I had this written for awhile now, I just needed to getting a few pairs of extra eyes and opinions before I thought it was set for posting.

Thank you @fluffyyseokk, @xiubaek13, @nightowls388, and @vipjimin so so so so for being those extra sets of eyes! I appreciate all the feedback you gave me and honest just the fact that you were willing to read it ^.^

Is it weird that I forgot how to make an author’s note? I literally had to go back and see what I did for my old author notes LOL. Also, if you hope you ENJOY the song rec (i hope this hint is understandable, if not... just ask lol I tried to be... smooth?)

Enjoy~~~

Summary: Expecting a phone call from your brother that was long overdue, you receive news that you never imagined. 

“It’s time.” The nurse said quietly

You didn’t respond, staring through the large glass that revealed your brother. It was a surreal experience, watching someone you always thought to be indestructible turn out to be as fragile as a small dandelion. Only this gust of wind came in the form of a drunk driver that swerved onto the wrong side of the road, leaving your brother’s car no room for escape.

It angered you to hear that the driver only got away with a concussion and a fractured arm while your brother was here, waiting to die as various systems in his body started to fail. Staff members accompanying your brother in the car weren’t in conditions any better, but they had a fighting chance at surviving the crash. Your brother had been unlucky enough to be in the seat that received the most impact, and it had fatal repercussions.

The members stood beside you in the bright hallway, watching their eldest member lie on the bed, unaware that he wouldn’t be waking up from the devastating drive back to their dorm. Your parents were out of town on a much-needed vacation and your siblings were too far to make it for his last moments, so the next best thing was the six men that your brother had considered brothers, men that took you in as a sister. They came rushing the second your crying voice was heard over the phone, disregarding the fact that they should be getting as much sleep as they could with their busy schedule.

You dragged your eyes away from your brother for moment, looking at the men surrounding you.

“Will you come with me?”

Namjoon’s eyes flickered to your’s sadly, his plush lips curving downwards. “If that’s what you want.”

Eyes flickering to Hoseok’s, who’s eyes were usually brighter than the sun were clouded with grief – a sight you never wanted to see – nodded.

A hand on your shoulder made your eyes flash to dark, drooping eyes staring glumly back at you. “We’ll be right there the entire time.” His deep voice rung out in the silent hallway.

You nodded, letting Jimin and Taehyung grab your hands and lead you inside.

In a daze, your hands started to tremble the closer you got to your brother. Tears started to pool in your eyes as you delicately placed your thin hand on his pale cheek, afraid to cause more pain. The sight of your brother unsettled you, making your stomach churn in an unpleasant concoction of emotions. He was extremely pale, almost as if he didn’t have any blood in his body. His normally pink lips were almost blue and his dark eyelashes and eyebrows clashed deeply with the snow-like skin. Plastic tubes of various sizes were inserted into his mouth and nostrils to administer oxygen directly to his lungs to reduce the strain on his organs already working overtime to keep him alive for a moment longer. His hand was too cold to the touch for your liking. His only sign of life was the incessant beeping of the heart monitor he was connected to, but the gaps between each tone were almost too big, as if his heart was ready to give any second before you could even say goodbye. You didn’t like anything about this situation – not at all.

“Seokjinnie Oppa..” You cried, unable to put your thoughts into words. Your shoulders quaked as you took his cold hand into yours. You lip trembled while tears were already pouring down your face in steady streams.

You only cried harder at his lack of response – verbally and physically. You could barely register the choked sob Jimin failed to conceal from your right. Taehyung held Jimin’s hand firmly to ground him, his own tears threatening to spill over. Jungkook stood behind you, resting his chin softly atop your head as he rubbed your arm in a comforting manner. You could feel drops of moisture falling on your scalp. Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok stood on Seokjin’s other side, trying their best to hold back the sobs that ripped through their bodies and stay strong for you.

“O-Oppa, I’ll never forget all the times you came running when I c-called. I’ll never f-f-forget the days you made my try th-that horrendous thing you called food when you started learning how to cook. I’ll never forget you sitting with the ahjussis at the convenience store to exchange jokes when you were waiting to pick me up from s-school. I’ll always remember the words you told me when you found out my first boyfriend was cheating on me. I’ll always remember the strong brother that took risks, leaving the path of an actor to give a shot at being an idol despite never singing a decent note before. I’ll always remember the strong brother that continued to practice ha-ard while having to hear others say he’s a useless member that can’t sing or dance. I’ll always remember the Seokjinnie oppa that hopes for nothing but happiness for the ones he loves and tries his absolute best to put a smile on their faces.”

You sobbed harder, recalling every memory you had with Seokjin – starting with his smiling face. The way his eyes crinkled in delight, reflecting all the light in the world, the way his plump lips turned up in a grin never failed to create a smile of your own. You recalled his unique laugh, one of the prominent features that made him uniquely Seokjin – your dear oppa. Then you remembered his broad shoulders that carried you home because you had fallen and hurt your ankle. You remembered him making jokes to distract you from the pain while scolding you at the same time. You remembered the day he burst into the house, screaming that he was going to train the become an idol. You recalled the night he called at some unholy hour to scream your ear off and announce he was going to debut. You remembered shedding tears, seeing your beloved brother on the television screen for the first time. You remembered having to convince him to stay in the group, encouraging him to practice hard to improve, encouraging him to keep reaching for his dream despite what others said about his skillset as an idol. You remembered the day he stepped out on the stage for his first solo performance, nervous as hell but ready to tackle anything that came his way. You remembered him rising to fame, finally getting the recognition he deserved as a member of BTS.

You remembered Seokjin waving through the window as the bus carried him away to follow his dream. You recalled Seokjin’s gentle touch every time he wiped tears from your cheeks. You remembered all the times he came for surprise visits because your siblings told him you missed him. You recalled the way he could tell how you were feeling with just one look. You remembered the times you fought, only to make up later that day because he made you food in return for a truce. You recalled the laughs you shared together, the tears shed together, the heart-to-hearts, the pointless conversations, the jokes, everything. You wouldn’t forget your brother, ever. You willed the memories to stain your brain, not wanting to forget anything about him, but there were only so many memories you could recall, there were only so many things about your brother that you could remember forever.

“Oppa, thank you for being your silly, doting self. T-t-thank you for teaching me to be str-rong, to not be afraid to take a chance. Thank you for being my rock when I was at my lowest point. Thank you for taking precious time out of your day to call me or check on me when you could’ve been resting. Thank you for reminding me to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, to focus on the positives. Thank you for helping me keep in touch with my inner child, to be carefree and without fear. Thank you for teaching me how to love myself and reminding me that I am in control of my life and I should be pursuing things that make me happy. Seokjin Oppa, thank you for being you, because I will never trade you for anyone else. I love you Seokjin Oppa, so so so much. You can rest now, you’ve worked hard.”

You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, knowing it would be the last time you could ever do this. Your heart clenched when you felt a weak squeeze on your hand. One lone tear slid down Seokjin’s pale cheek. Your heart surged with hope for a moment, only to plummet immediately after. Your knees buckled and Jungkook just barely managed to catch you before you fell completely. The room was at a standstill when the monitor emitted one, elongated tone. The formerly bumpy line on the screen was now flat.

Everything after that was a blur. Your lungs burned as more sobs escaped, your head throbbed and your vision swirled. Your limbs melted into nothing, having to be supported by Jungkook since you lacked the strength. Your stomach dropped when the doctor and a few nurses stepped beside him to call his death, confirming that your brother was truly gone. You couldn’t bear to watch as the nurses started to unhook Seokjin from the machines that kept him alive, so you turned in Jungkook’s – who had managed to drop the two of you into a chair to get out of the way of the medical staff – lap and cried into his neck as he cradled you tightly to his chest while sobs wracked his own body. Jimin tightly clutched Taehyung’s shirt while burying his face in his shoulder. Taehyung’s arm came around Jimin’s head in a one-armed hug as glistening tears slid down his grief-stricken face. Namjoon’s slender hand came up to cover his face while his shoulders quivered, grieving the passing of the eldest member. Hoseok leaned his forehead against Yoongi’s hand as he crouched into a ball beside his stunned hyung, holding tightly to his hand as if it were a lifeline while sobs tore through his entire being. Yoongi stared numbly at Seokjin, face expressionless as tears flowed down his pale cheeks. Everyone desperately clung to one another for support as the medical staff left silently for everyone to grieve once the white sheet was finally placed over his pale face. The room was filled with the heart wrenching wails of the loved ones Seokjin left behind.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye. You never would’ve been. But this wasn’t a goodbye, it was simply a see you later. Now, you had to come to terms with his departure. Then, you had to live your life happily until you are united with him once again.

[ask-papercraft-anivia]

✍ + 16 - what really scares them.

For every ✍ + a number I receive, I will share one headcanon for my muse about…

16. …what really scares them

Oh boy. *cracksknuckles*

In short, aLOT of things scare her. Mostly the mundane things the average human thinksnothing of because they consider them common objects, rituals and the like. Oneexample is the weather and by extension fluids.

I willexplain in a bit, but to understand what I’m going to write next, you must knowabout her situation first.

So, firstly,she is completely made of paper, thick and enchanted paper, but still paper. Thispresents a lot of flaws. As you know, this material is not the sturdiest, youcan’t reliably build houses with it. It’s also not the most flexible, likeelastics. If you fold it one to many times, it will fall apart, that’s why it’seasier to tear along a fold than trying to rip a flat and smooth sheet in astraight line. And most people know that if you bring a few sheets of paperoutside without putting them in a binder or folder, the wind will createcreases along your fingers, the rain leaves marks, and if you drop it, therewill most likely be some dirt or small particles stuck to it, forming anunsightly smear as you try to wipe it away.

This leadsme to another obvious flaw: paper is not waterproof. Sure, you can laminate paper,but then it becomes this stiff sheet that now has lost its primary quality forour intended purpose: being sturdy but still flexible enough to fold into a papercraftcreation. Well, if any of you have ever spilled a drink or some water on paper(most likely your assignment you have to turn it the next day) and you don’timmediately dab the moisture away, it will be absorbed and create a weak andsoggy patch that will easily flake off and create a hole if you desperately tryto rub it dry.

If that sheetwas your arm and you somehow forgot your umbrella and didn’t check the weather forecast.Now, imagine you rising fear of losing a piece of your arm because you didn’tknow it was going to rain because if even one raindrop somehow manages to touchyour wrist and you can’t wipe it away fast enough, well… You just scraped offthe skin of your arm. And if you didn’t, you now have a deformed and hardenedpatch decorating your skin. It’s like a scar that won’t ever go away fully.

Now imaginethat your entire body is made of paper and every time you go out there is achance the weather will mutilate you permanently. I personally would be terrifiedof even thinking of venturing outside. The weather can change suddenly andwithout warning. Who knows when it decides to rain down figurative knives? Butthe paper Anivia is made of if very thick paper, you say. If you look at thefolds of her leg, that’s about a fifth of the tree next to it. So any damage aflimsy piece of paper takes it mitigated by the volume of the paper she’s madeof. But the thing is, we’re not talking about one drop of water, like the exampleI used. It doesn’t just rain one drop.It’s thousands, maybe millions at the same time, covering a big area. And Aniviafits that criteria too well. She’s very big, 30m/98’5" big. That isa huge weak area.

But it’snot just rain, what about hail? Well, that’s not much better. It’s basicallytiny bullets mercilessly raining down on the unlucky soul stuck outside. Andguess who’s too big to find cover beneath branches and foliage? You guessed it,it’s Anivia. How is she going to find something to hide under to wait out thestorm? She even dwarfs entire trees. Trees. I’m not sure how many people trulyrealize just how large she is.

Back to thehail, on our boring planet earth, it has been know to dent cars, metal cars, I might add. This is a picture I added to show you.

How can anyoneexpect her to get out of there alive without any scratches, or any damage forthat matter? It’s just absurd how dangerous the weather on plain old earth isfor her. Now take in the account of the freakish weather of Runeterra wheremages can just change it on a whim ifthey bored. For example, if she were to come across Nami and she accidentallyscares her, and Nami uses only her ultimate, Anivia is done for. That’s comparableto getting burned alive, soaking from her body, scaring and weakening it. Andwe’re not even talking about literal gods or anything. If Volibear is angry orjust bored or whatever, he can just, oh, I don’t know, call down freaking lighting and thunder to decimate anything in his way.

Which bringme to the third point: lightning. It’s well know that it strikes the highest structurein the general vicinity of its formation. And again, guess who towers overbasically everything. It’s Anivia of course.

A fun fact for those who love the sun. As you know, humans usually get a tan if they stay under it for a long period of time. That is not the case for Anivia. If anyone has ever left anything in the sun for too long, you’ll notice that it has lost a little bit of its color. The same thing happens to her. The sun freaking bleaches her.

This isgetting to long for just an ask prompt but she’s just so disadvantaged in aworld where freaking weather exists. And this is just one typical aspect ofRuneterra. I’m not even talking about the rampant use of magic and technology,and all the other ordinary things that are deadly to her. The more I thinkabout it, the more I realize she’s basically stuck in a world unintentionallyout to kill her. At any cost. And that is terrifying to her.