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chrollohearttags · 2 days ago

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˙ .🍰 . 𖦹˙—late night cravings • the excerpt ˙ 🍰

a little drabble/preview of this doordasher!eren fic I’m working on bc it’s far too long right now and idk when I’ll finish it 😭

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

linking up with doordasher!eren always resorted in one or two outcomes for (y/n)…after waiting nearly an hour for the food you’d purchased and communicating with him, he’d arrive with a bag full of cold food and a snide remark to accompany it. You’d often find yourself shouting, cursing and yelling at him for his stupidity. He’d simply apologize and enact that annoying charm you’d fallen for…even so, he didn’t get a pass and you’d kick him out, promptly shutting the door in his face so that you could somewhat enjoy your subpar meal in peace. You often questioned why you even bothered getting infuriated with him. Hell, there wasn’t any use in it. It wasn’t as if he’d feel any remorse for that lackadaisical attitude of his. And it wasn’t as if you’d genuinely be upset with him either! Hence why he continued to do so. Then there were the other times….

“Oh God…”

“Just breathe, baby..I got you..here, grab my hair and pull me in closer.”

the times that resulted in the two of you congregating in the back hatch of his Trackhawk. A completely different car from the one he’d normally drive. Your legs spread wide and stretched to each side as he resided between them..buried face deep into that soaking cunt. That very white tank top and biker shorts you’d answer the door in, were now shuffled around your ribcage and your ankles, courtesy of him undressing you in a haze. A towel resided underneath your asscheeks because Eren was painfully aware that you had the tendency to make a mess. A fact he’d learn all too well the first time you’d hooked up and hell, he welcomed the idea! So he’d make sure to come prepared. With plenty of water and snacks once the two of you were finished to help replenish your energy and of course, all the love he could provide. He’d do whatever it took to make his beloved (y/n) comfortable.

“There we go. Now you can’t run from me..” Lobbing a trail of spit onto your folds before continuing to feast greedily on your dripping heat. After another grueling shift and midterms, Eren decided to scoop you up for a ride around town to help you clear your head. It was the start of a much needed and deserved vacation. Two weeks off from sitting behind a computer screen and being yelled at by dumbass customers. Or listening to boring lectures. You were reclaiming your time back and what better way to start it off than by letting your ‘sworn enemy’ eat your pussy in the back of his car?! You two were in a remote area on the other side of town…away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Near the beachfront without a single house or person in sight. It was ideal for a little venture like this.

“Erennnn..fuck..”

“Mmmm…I know…I know it feels good. Just keep riding my tongue, imma get you there.”

it was a promise you knew he’d fulfill, even if it took all night. He was aware that you hadn’t had a proper orgasm in a while and you needed to release that tension..even if it manifested in the form of cream trailing down his chin! So Eren dutifully sat on his knees; planted in the grass with his pants shifted to his waist as he stroked his cock to the sounds of your moans. Regardless of how sensual and steamy the moment was, he couldn’t help but to partake in his usual jokes!..

“This pussy tastes so fucking good, baby…crazy ‘cause you eat like a damn raccoon.”

“Fuck you..swear you get on my damn nerves.”

laughing as your head fell back onto your shoulders and those fingers clutched those chocolate locks even harder. You’d even find yourself gasping for air as that impending climax drew near..with one hand still pleasuring himself, the other plunged two digits into your tight hole and fingered you. Whilst those lips remained suctioned around that swollen clit.

“Aww, but you’re still gon’ come for me, right?” Knowing that you were directly in his clutches and he wasn’t going to let go until you gave his trunk area a good rinse down! Watching you writhe around and unravel as you squirted all over the place was worth any sharp insults or remarks. He just needed to see you fall apart so he could be one with you next..so without haste, he’d quicken those movements and rapidly flick his tongue across that aching bud, pleading with you to release at any moment. To which you didn’t disappoint. Forcing him to withdraw his fingers, (y/n) would generously release those warm, sticky juices in a stream all over his face, chest, the back carpet and down to the hitch. Even catching your own feet in the process! Left quivering and frozen in ecstasy, a trail of tears as a result of that climax, fell down your cheek as you struggled to capture your breath and construct a single word or thought.

“FUCK! Oh my—gosh!..” finally blurting out in a fit of pleasure and laughter. “I don’t remember the last time I came so hard. What the fuck is wrong with you?” To which he could do nothing more than continue to cackle, knowing that he may have gone a bit overboard just to achieve his goal.

“Sorry, baby. You know I can’t help myself..love watching you squirt.. ‘s just so sexy. That’s why I’m about to make you do it until you pass out.”

Which earned him quite the shocked glare because you weren’t even finished riding this one out and he was ready to make you come again?! This man was insane.

“Listen, I don’t want you thinking about anything except feeling good when you’re with me. Not school, work..coworkers, nothing.”

In the midst of his spiel, Eren had risen to his feet and was now gripping your thighs; holding them to either side as that long, thick cock rubbed against those sensitive, slippery folds. Lathered up with sticky liquid and remnants of his precum dripping from that aching tip, he’d slowly but surely ease himself inside and allow his head to fall back onto his shoulder after releasing a breathy ‘shit’..

“Just take this dick, beautiful..that’s your only fucking job right now. You don’t have to do anything else except be my lil’ slut.” In a split moment alone, his energy had shifted from playful to somewhat dominant. Clutching your throat just lightly enough to garner your attention and keep those eyes on him. “You can do that, right?” Once you nodded your head, he’d shove a thumb between your lips to suckle on and pacify your loud moans.

“Haaa—damn, baby. Squeezing me so tight already. Why do you have to feel so fuckin’ good?.” Although reluctant to admit it, he was making you feel far too good right now. Pleasure like you’ve never experienced and craving more as the moments passed! “This pussy ‘s so creamy..fuuuck. I love it..” Eren, despite his nonsensical nature, was the ideal lover..always placing your needs before his own, constantly doting and checking on you, even giving you a slight bit of aggression and dominance because he knew you liked the idea of someone else having control every once in a while. Hell, he’d even resort to tricks that other partners hadn’t in the past.

“Nnnngh..Ren, baby..what are you—“

“Oooh, look at you, (y/n). Who would’ve thought you liked getting your toes sucked on..somebody’s a lil’ freak.”

Although you were enjoying the sensation, you couldn’t help but to take a jab at him regardless.

“Or maybe you just like weird shit.” Giggling at his statement as he cupped your feet in his palms. Cleaning off the remnants of your earlier ’shower’. “You should know by now..I'm not with that lil’ kid shit. I’ll do whatever to make you feel good..”

Never in your life had you experienced love making or sex in general the way you had with Eren. Delicately, he’d bring your feet to his shoulder blades and glide his tongue around them whilst staring deep into your eyes. He had a chokehold on you, mentally and physically. One that could not be so easily broken. “Damn..I really can’t get rid of you now.” Meanwhile, he’d continue slowly pounding you with those deep strokes. You’d feel yourself crowning and then tightening around the base of his shaft. With it came silky cream being dredged from your body.

“This dick is so fucking big…stretching my pussy..”

“I love when you talk like that..but it’s okay, you can handle it, beautiful. You can take it for me.”

he’d continue to nurse your feet, placing gentle kisses along the insoles before eventually speeding up. He’d shift his weight so that your legs were pinned back entirely and those hands were cuffed around your ankles. He’d burrow his weight onto your body and feed you deeper, heavier strokes. Your eyes remained plastered on him before eventually rolling back. Sounds of loud smacking, moaning and gasping filled the quiet night air.

“Yes! Keep fucking me, right there! Gonna make me come again!..”

“Yeah? Gonna nut all over this fucking dick? Then do it..I told you not to hold back. Let it out.”

demanding in a haze as you furiously rubbed your clit to aid his rapid strokes. You felt as if you were going to explode any minute and he wasn’t too far behind. Truth be told, this was a new experience for the both of you and never in a million years would you have expected the man who delivered your food..to be digging you out in a public area. But that was the type of excitement that Eren had brought into your life and you wouldn’t change it for a thing. Suddenly, he’d look up from feeding you those deep strokes, to watching your eyes go cross before your head would dangle back on your shoulders and a loud yelp followed. Continuing to rub that clit, (y/n) let out another release that satisfied both of your carnal desires. Those juices were sent flying and his abdomen took the brunt of it. Seeming as how he couldn’t be bothered to pull out as he slowly fucked the remainder of that orgasm out of you.

“There you go. Make a fucking mess for me, baby. Make a mess on your dick..this belongs to you.” Something about hearing him let you claim dominion over his body made it even harder to want this moment to cease. By the tears falling down your cheek, he was certain you’d never experienced anything like this. Before proceeding, he’d place a hand around the back of your neck and his lips to your own..shoving that tongue in your mouth.

“I’m so proud of you, baby..and thank you for trusting me..I told you I’d make all that stress go away..”

and luckily, this was just a mere taste of what was in store!

@thatbitchatesblog @tieraaaxo @koreancoochies @large-juice

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olliewrites-stuff · 4 hours ago

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Happy.

The eerie feeling of eyes boring intensely through her ribcage made Djeneba twirl around to face the starer. Lips curved up in a bemused smile, she teased, “See something you like?”

Her partner startled, and Djeneba chuckled softly at their surprise.

A delicious flush rose up Greyson’s neck as their eyes darted away guiltily. Their left hand rose to brush the back of their neck as they mumbled, “Obviously.”

Greyson’s dark eyebrows furrowed together in a frown Djeneba always found endearing. It was a sweet moment until their mouth pulled into a deep grimace and they muttered, “You make me happy, okay?”

And there it was. That pesky feeling that popped up uninvited far too often, settling in Djeneba’s stomach, curdling her internal systems as rejection spread steadily throughout her body.

"You don't seem very happy."

She couldn’t prevent the words from slipping from her lips and landing on the floor between the two lovers, creating an invisible, icy cavern of dread. Djeneba watched Greyson’s shoulders curl inwards as they stared pointedly at the floor, purposefully angling their head to shield any facial hints from her gaze.

Fuck. This had been happening too often lately. Their individual insecurities kept barging into what should be the pair’s well-earned domestic bliss. Was this it? Was this a sign that it was ending?

Djeneba fucking hoped not. She’d even resorted to praying it wasn’t so. She never thought rediscovering her faith would ever be prompted by the fear of losing the one she loves; the one she thought she’d made her forever life with.

It all started about a year ago; Greyson developed this unnerving habit of becoming closed off and sombre following happy, light-hearted, and domestic moments that Djeneba loved. Their words would always attempt to placate the blonde, but the simultaneous negative body language made the verbal effort futile.

Djeneba had tried so hard to convince herself otherwise, but in this moment, as her veins iced over with the repeating memory of Greyson’s dour face just now, she admitted defeat.

She needed to know. She needed to know whether this was truly the end. She didn’t have the energy to gloss over these moments anymore.

Djeneba cleared her throat and forced out the words, sharper than intended, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it. That you’re happy.”

Shit. Okay, maybe thinking through the words before saying them would be a good idea. What a fucking revelation.

Inhaling deeply, the blonde tried again, “That’s not how I meant to word my thoughts. I’m sorry.”

Greyson froze. They still refused to angle their face into view, but Djeneba could tell they were listening. Good.

“Grey, I - I feel like you don’t love me anymore.”

Deep brown curls bobbed erratically as Greyson’s head flung up sharply. Sage eyes were wide and fearful as they finally targeted Djeneba’s face.

“And - And, I know, okay? I know you tell me with your words. You tell me you love me. You tell me you’re happy, but your body says otherwise. I can’t remember the last time you said either of those strings of words without a fucking grimace on your face.”

God, she couldn’t say this while looking at the face she was already grieving. Djeneba closed her eyes as defiant tears began their long trek down her face.

“Fuck, Grey, it looks like it physically hurts you to love me! Or to say you love me - whatever. And I can’t do this anymore. I love you! And whether you think you love me or not anymore, I refuse to keep hurting you. Even if you do still love me, I refuse to continue this if it makes you unhappy,” she sobbed wetly.

Djeneba wiped her dripping eyes and nose with her sleeve, far beyond caring about insignificant bullshit like social decency.

“I love our life together, Greyson. I love you! So much. And other than you fucking grimacing whenever you tell me you love me or that you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m willing to work through whatever, as long as we’re together. I want to spend my life with you! I just - my one and only exception to all this is if you’re unhappy in our relationship. If you’re unhappy with me, with us. I - I don’t expect either of us to be happy all the time. We’re both mentally ill; we know the struggle; but up until recently, we’ve never been the cause of unhappiness, you know? It was always us surviving through all the unhappiness life throws at us, together… You’re not happy, Grey. I can see it. You’re not happy with me. I make you unhappy. And I can’t - I can’t do that to you. I can’t do that to me. To us…”

Suddenly exhausted, Djeneba hung her head. Opening her blurry eyes, she stared despairingly at Greyson.

“Please be honest with me, Grey. Do I make you unhappy?”

Greyson's fingers dug firmly into the faded blue couch cushion they sat on. Djeneba watched as their arms began to tremble and their head hung down low between their sharp shoulder blades. At the sound of a heaving sob, Djeneba wrapped her arms around her own torso harshly and sat down on the single red armchair parallel to her partner.

Deep, wracking sobs ripped themselves from Greyson’s throat as they began to cry earnestly. Haunting wails spilled as they began to hyperventilate and rip their hands through their hair. This harrowing soundtrack filled the living room of their home; the same one Djeneba had carried Greyson over the threshold of, while the pair of them cackled joyfully. The same house they’d hosted their first through fifth family Christmases in. The same house that currently housed the engagement ring Djeneba had hidden in a false bottom of her desk drawer. The house they’d discussed future children in.

Each of Greyson’s sobs reverberated in Djeneba’s heart. She feared that the ricochet would tug her heart from her chest, leaving it to fall lifelessly on the ground between the two of them.

Time passed in the mysterious way it tends to, although Djeneba wouldn’t have registered this if not for the eventual sunset transitioning their afternoon to evening.

By the time Greyson’s sobs came to a trembling stop, Djeneba could see stars outside the living room window. She heard their initial failed attempts to get words out between silent tears and continued to wait.

Finally, Greyson’s voice grew to replace the lingering echo of their prior weeping, "I am happy.”

They laughed wetly, seemingly realising how ludicrous the words sounded.

“I am. I have been, for a while, even. So something terrible has to happen soon, right? To even it all out. I don't just get to be happy."

Djeneba frowned. This train of thought wasn’t new, not for Greyson. But to try and use it now?

Well, it felt like a weak excuse to avoid accepting the truth.

Isn’t it funny how weak excuses can hurt the most?

The brunette powered on desperately, “The fact you make me happy, so happy, fucking terrifies me. It’s like the universe is taunting inevitable heartbreak above my head whenever you dare to do something as stupid and fucking generous as loving me. And… And the longer we’re together; the more you become a stable and certain thing in my life, the more I fear the end. I love you so fucking much, Djeneba. And I feel how much you, miraculously, love me. You make me happy. I am happy. There’s just - there’s a part of me that refuses to acknowledge that this happiness can coexist with my internal, ingrained belief that I am fundamentally unlovable. That all of this will end.”

Lips pursed, Djeneba squared her jaw. None of this was new. She’d been hearing this same speech from them since the pair were in high school together. She felt like a fool for expecting anything different. For expecting any real response.

She thought Greyson knew her better than this. That they knew better than to hide behind the same, unchanging excuse they’ve used for years.

Yes, it was true. Djeneba knew, and had known, that Greyson struggled with this. They’d had numerous conversations about it. Talked through it. Talked about communicating clearly. Fuck, she’d actively worked to force words out when her rejection sensitive dysphoria threatened to stop her voice entirely. She’d worked so hard to communicate with the one she loved. To evolve. To put effort into their longevity together.

…And Greyson dared to hide behind the same fucking excuse they’d had since they were 16.

Djeneba smoothed her jeans firmly and stood up. Ignoring Greyson’s owlish eyes, she sighed dejectedly.

“I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

She walked over to the key dish by the front door, patting her pocket for her phone and wallet as she slipped on her slides.

Turning one last time to face the love of her life, Djeneba spoke monotonously, “When you’re ready to actually talk to me and be honest, we can arrange a public place to meet. I’m going to my sister’s. Your engagement ring’s in the third desk drawer, by the way. I don’t care what you do with it. It was never meant for me.”

She closed the front door firmly behind her, thanking God it was raining.

"You don't seem very happy."

"I am happy. I am. I have been, for a while, even. So something terrible has to happen soon, right? To even it all out. I don't just get to be happy."

#olliewrites #ollie writes #short story #lgbtq relationships #heartbreak #angst #sad ending #communication issues #lgbtq #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writer community

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urmommysfavkisserrr · 2 days ago

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Spoiled Rich.

°•☆•° - Paige Bueckers x Ex-Wife Reader (Brazilian)

°•☆•° - Even after five years of divorce, you can’t help but remember what life had been like before everything went to shit. With the blonde curled up in your bed, something about it all just feels right.

°•☆•° - Part Two of End Of Her Rope. Ya’ll, I swear this was supposed to be all cute and domestic, but then the angst just crept in...and now here we are.

°•☆•° - for those of you who decided to throw a fit the first time.

°•☆•° - 6113 words

Part 1 | Part 3

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

That next morning, you woke up to a slightly warmer but empty bed. You brushed it off, assuming one of the girls had crawled in after a bad dream, then left early this morning when they got bored to go play with their toys or find a way to make some kind of mess, they always did.

You sighed, looking over at the alarm clock to find that it was way past drop-off time for school. 10:42 am. Guess it was gonna be another late day for the girls, which would end up with you having to argue out some dumb excuse with the principal.

But before you could move, your eyes shifted to the blonde figure standing in the doorway of the master bathroom, leaning against the doorframe and just watching.

She had stayed? It wasn't a dream.

"Don't..you have practice or something?"

A sly smirk appeared on the blonde’s face when she noticed your eyes on her. “You don’t remember last night, do you?” She asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Paige leaned against the bathroom door frame, her arms folded as she watched you with a soft gaze. She had been up and awake for some time now.

You just huffed, rubbing your forehead and shuffling to sit up. "I gotta get the girls to school.."

“Already taken care of,” Paige replied, pushing herself off the door frame and walking over to the bed.

She sat down next to you, a knowing glance in her eyes. She knew the kids were off to school already, and she knew you were still partially oblivious to the events of last night.

You furrowed your brows, still working on rubbing the sleep off your face as you sniffled. "..what?"

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle at the confused expression on your face. “I dropped the girls off at school this morning.” She explained, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “And before you ask, yes, I did get them there on time.”

"You didn't have to do that."

“Who else was supposed to do it? You?” Paige said, her tone slightly teasing. “You were passed out when I dropped them off this morning.”

"You could have woken me up.” You huffed out, looking around for your phone without really looking. You were too tired to care. “I have alarms, I just don't know why they didn't go off."

Paige shook her head and rolled her eyes playfully. “I tried waking you up this morning. You were dead to the world.”

She remembered her attempts to shake you awake, only to be met with unintelligible mumbling. “Besides,” she continued. “You needed the sleep.”

You just palmed at your face again, sighing, rubbing your eyes, fixing the hoodie you had slept in, and the stack of necklaces on your neck.

Most of them were gifts that Paige had helped the girls pick out over the years. Then, with one last huff, you put your chin in your palm, looking at the blonde. "I appreciate it, everything, I do, but I know you've got your own shit to take care of so don't feel like you need to stay. I get it. You can go"

“Ma,” Paige said your name in a hushed tone. “Shut up. I’m not going anywhere.”

She knew you. And she knew you were always quick to dismiss any kind gestures with claims that you didn’t need them.

Her hand reached out and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You were exhausted last night. The girls were fine, and I could handle dropping them off. Stop being stubborn and quit trying to get rid of me.”

"You're busy.."

“You really haven’t changed, have you?” Paige let out a soft laugh, recalling all the times that you had always put others before yourself. No matter the cost.

“I’m not busy,” Paige replied. “And even if I was, I’d still be right here. You need to take a damn break sometimes. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this, baby.”

Paige couldn’t help but look at you with concern. She had seen this happen before. You were stubborn and didn’t know when to slow down. You had always been this way. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?” She questioned, still keeping her voice soft.

“...Huh?”

“You heard me.” Paige raised an eyebrow, waiting for You to answer. She was serious, she wanted to know the last time You made time for yourself. “When was the last time you did something just for you? And not for the girls or your job. When was the last time you were selfish?”

You softly shook your head, still trying to shake the sleep while following the conversation. "I...don't...I bought a coffee last week?"

“You’ve gotta be joking.” Paige rolled her eyes, clearly not amused. Buying a cup of coffee hardly counted as being selfish. And even that probably came with some sort of guilt after spending the money on yourself.

You shrugged a little. "The coffee machine here broke, and I needed a pick-me-up. So after I dropped the girls off, I got one and a donut. Then, after school, I felt bad and took them to get it too."

“Of course you did…” Paige sighed, shaking her head. It was almost like clockwork; You always put everyone else first. You just couldn’t seem to shake that habit of giving everything all the time.

“You, I’m serious.” Paige shifted her body, facing you. She took hold of one of your hands. She needed you to know that she was being serious. “You can’t keep going like this, constantly looking out for everyone but yourself. You need to do something for yourself sometimes. Not because it’s your job, or because the girls need it, or because it’s what's expected of you. I’m not kidding, you’ll work yourself to death if you keep this up.

The version of you that Paige used to know, back in college, would have found something you wanted and bought it without a second thought.

You would have been dressed to impress even if it was just a night at the bar or to a restaurant for dinner.

You were the most selfish fucking person you'd ever meet, and now?

Now, everything makes you feel guilty.

“You’ve changed since college, ya know?” Paige commented, noticing the difference in you. You were still gorgeous, but now you were just exhausted. You used to be so much more self-assured.

But now? Now you feel bad about doing anything that wasn’t necessary.

“I miss that old you.” She said with a smirk.

You tilted your head slightly, a thoughtful look in your eyes. "That me had two kids."

“Which did a number on you, alright. I’ll give you that. But it’s not just that.” Paige let out a sigh, her hand still holding yours. “The girl I knew in college would never feel guilty over buying a cup of coffee.”

"She was a different girl. A very different girl."

“You’re still the same at your core.” Paige insisted. “You just…don’t take care of yourself anymore. You run yourself ragged for the sake of everyone else. You’ve turned yourself into a housewife and mother completely, leaving nothing for you.” Paige’s thumb traced over your knuckles. She wasn’t wrong.

You sighed, leaning to the side to flop yourself into Paige's lap. Head on her thighs.

Paige smiled softly, shifting her legs to make you more comfortable. She let out a soft sigh, her hands finding their way to your hair again. “You need to take care of yourself.” She said softly, running her fingers through the long, dark locks.

"Mhm"

Paige rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me any of that.” She scolded softly. “You know I’m right. You’ve dedicated your life to your kids and work. You have nothing left for yourself, it’s like you don’t even know what self-care is anymore.”

"What do you want me to do? Huh? You wanna take the day and pamper me like some rich bitch?" You huffed with a raised brow, still in the blonde's lap.

“What if I do?” Paige asked, her hands still playing with your hair. She shrugged with nonchalance, like pampering you was no big deal.

"I'm not letting you spend money on me. Money for the kids is one thing, but for me it's another."

“So you’ll go broke spoiling the girls, but you can’t allow me to spend one little cent on you?” Paige raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. It was like she was talking to a stubborn child.

"You don't do ‘one little cent’. You go overboard every time. I don't need that kind of money spent on me."

“Oh really?” Paige raised an eyebrow again, amused at your protest. She knew damn well that if she even got the chance to get you a gift, she wouldn’t hold back.

She knew your protests were pointless. You knew it, too.

"Yes."

“Are you sure about that?” Paige let out a soft laugh. Her free hand came down gently and took hold of your chin, tilting your head up so that their eyes could meet.

“Because I could very much shower you with gifts, and it wouldn’t make a dent in that bank account of mine. So you’re wrong.” Paige shrugged, like she was completely unbothered by telling you she could, in fact, spoil the hell out of you.

"I don't need it.”

“But you still deserve it,” Paige said firmly. She was done listening to the protest. “You do everything for those two girls and your career. You don’t have anything just for you. It’s always for everyone else. Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to just…let yourself be spoiled for a change?”

"Not really. The budget is for groceries and lunches."

“You’re impossible.” Paige sighed, exasperated. It was like talking to a brick wall. You was so damn stubborn in ways. No matter how many times she got the point across, you just wouldn’t get it.

“You won’t let anyone spend anything on you, yet you’d go to great lengths to spoil your kids. Can’t you see the issue here?” Paige reasoned again.

"I love my kids."

“That’s not the point, Ma!” Paige couldn’t help the rise in her voice. She didn’t understand why you didn’t comprehend what she meant.

Her hand moved to hold your chin a little tighter, making sure you were hearing her. “You love, live, and breathe for those girls. But you don’t do a goddamn thing for you. You don’t have any sort of me time. You don’t even get a minute to yourself.”

You shifted your head slightly in Paige's lap, looking up at her with the same eyes the blonde fell in love with all those years ago. "..if you could spend the whole day, just pampering me, what would you do?"

That was a question Paige didn’t even have to think about. In the blink of an eye, she knew exactly what she’d do. She’d spend every waking second of the day doting on you.

Her head tilted, looking down at you and answering in a tone that was slightly above a whisper.

“Well..” She began, her fingers resuming the rhythm of playing with your hair. “Spa treatment, nails, hair, the works. And then I’d take you someplace nice to eat. Just the two of us.”

"And if I'd rather just stay in bed all day?"

“Well then, I’ll get room service,” Paige responded, her hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. “No kids, no cleaning, no work. You’d get to lie in bed all day, and the only thing you’d have to worry about is me taking care of you.”

"Room service? You mean DoorDash?"

“Room service, DoorDash, whatever floats your boat.” Paige chuckled softly, her fingers still gently running through the locks of dark brown hair. “Whatever the hell you want. I’ll get it for you.”

Your voice dropped to a small and vulnerable whisper. "...what if I just want you?"

That. That question caught Paige completely off guard. Her heart immediately fluttered in her chest, and she felt as if all the breath had been taken out of her lungs.

She tried to remain as calm and collected as she could, but damn. Hearing those words from your mouth…it made her heart want to burst. “Then you’ll have me.” She finally responded, her hand coming to rest on your cheek.

"Anything I want?"

“Anything in the world,” Paige responded without hesitation. She was a little surprised at the confidence in her voice. But it was true. If there was one thing Paige had been sure of forever, it was her love and devotion for you.

When they were back in college, Paige could and would have given you the world. And now, all these years later, it was still the same.

"...I did recently get a new dress, but I have no reason to wear it. A gift from my sister."

“Wear it for me,” Paige replied a little too quickly. Seeing you dolled up in a dress would be a treat.

"Yeah? You gonna take me out, Bueckers?"

“You bet.” She responded again, her confidence in full force. She was going to spoil the hell out of you with or without protest.

She was tired of watching you give yourself to everyone but yourself.

"hm.."

“Don’t hum at me,” Paige said, her tone still firm. She wasn’t going to let you say no to this. “No protesting. You’re going to let me take care of you for once in your life.”

"What about your agents and the fans? When they see us together, in public?"

“Who cares about them?” Paige raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t about them,” She went on to say, her hand still cradling the side of your face. “It’s about doing something fun for yourself. It’s about you. Not them. Not me. You. For once. I’m gonna do something completely for you, and you’re gonna let me do it.”

"Paige.."

“Not a single word.” Paige hushed her again, now putting a finger to your lips to shush you. “You’re going to take a break and let someone take care of you for a little bit. And you’re not going to fight me on it.”

"..what if I just want to stay here and hide with you?"

“That’s even better,” Paige said with a smirk. As selfish as she was, getting to have you to herself for a day was something she wanted to do.

And now it seemed like there was a chance. “If you want to stay in, we’ll stay in and I’ll still pamper you.”

"Without spending thousands?"

“Oh, now hold on.” Paige had to refrain from rolling her eyes. Of course, you weren’t going to let yourself get spoiled without some form of protest.

She leaned down slightly closer, her tone still firm. “It’s gonna be a little expensive, babe.”

"Nah. We've got...food here." You didn't look too sure about that. Money had been tight lately, and you hadn't told Paige. The cabinets were uncomfortably empty, so most times she'd made food for the girls and just drank water or nutrient shakes.

Don't tell Paige. Don’t. Tell. Paige.

"Yeah, we got stuff. And I'm sure I've got some old face masks lying around, and movies, and blankets. That's all we need."

Paige furrowed her brow, noticing the subtle hesitation in your words. She could sense something was off. “You sure you have the stuff? Cause I’ll just go out and-” She began, cutting herself off halfway as a horrible realization hit her. The realization of why you were being so difficult.

It hit her like a ton of bricks.

You were being difficult because of money.

Her heart dropped, realizing that you were trying to deny yourself getting the care you needed because you were struggling.

She sighed softly, her eyes moving to look down at you. “You’re not being difficult because you don’t want to be spoiled. You’re not allowing me to spend any money because you don’t have any money, do you?” She questioned softly, her heart twisting in her chest.

"I have money-"

“Not enough, though.” Paige cut in. She could tell by the way that you were avoiding eye contact that you were lying. It was obvious that things were way tighter than you were trying to let on.

“You..” Her tone was still soft, but now it was tinged with an almost pitying tone. ”You haven’t been telling me the truth about how bad it’s been, have you?”

"We're fine. We're handling it. Okay? The girls are happy, they have what they need."

“That’s not what I asked you. I asked if you’ve been telling me the truth.” Her tone was still firm, but still gentle. “The girls? Yes, the girls are probably happy. And they probably have what they need. That’s because you are going above and beyond for them.”

Paige took a deep breath. “But I’m asking you about yourself, baby. I’m asking if things have been bad enough for you to struggle to afford the necessities.”

"I'm fine. We're fine. Everyone is fine."

Paige shook her head, a mixture of both disappointment and sympathy for the woman in her lap. “Stop it. Stop saying that you’re fine. And stop saying that you’re doing just fine, because you’re not.”

She said firmly, her hand gently cupping your face. “That’s not true. And you lying to me about how you’re doing is making a lot of things make sense.”

Fuck.

You put your hands up, rubbing your eyes to hide them. So Paige couldn't read you anymore. "I don't need your pity."

“It’s not pity.” Paige shook her head. She could see how stubborn and defensive you were getting. “You’re not letting me take care of you because you don’t have the money to take care of the girls AND yourself, don’t you?”

Her tone was still gentle, but firm. And she was still trying to get you to uncover your face.

"The girls are fine-"

“Ma, stop. Stop this.” Paige said a bit firmer this time. She could see that you were getting more and more defensive and stubborn. “I’m not asking you about the girls. I’m asking you about you. And from what I’ve seen, you are not fine.”

“You’re not eating the way you should, you’re not sleeping-“ Paige started to list. “And you’re not doing anything for yourself. You’re putting all the focus on the girls, to the point where you won’t even give yourself the bare necessities.”

Paige took a deep breath. “Aren’t you even going to try to deny it? Or are you going to actually be honest?”

Her eyes followed the movement, watching as you sat up and hid your face.

“Don’t shut down on me.” She said softly. Her hand came to gently rest on one of your hands that currently covered her face. “Look at me.”

Your bottom lip quivered. "I dont need help."

That response made Paige’s heart drop.

“Ma..” She said softly, her heart aching in her chest. She gently pulled at your hand, wanting you to uncover your face and look at her.

“Please look at me,” Paige repeated, this time a little bit more desperately. “Let me see those pretty eyes of yours, baby.” She cooed softly.

That just earned a sob, like a full-on, real sob. You broke. Completely shattered.

The sound of your sob shattered Paige’s heart into a million pieces. She let go of your hand and quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close.

“Shhhh…” She soothed, a hand rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Hey… hey hey….” Paige’s tone was still soft and soothing. She was trying to keep her own emotions in check as she held you in her arms and rubbed your back.

“You’re okay…just take a breath..” she murmured into your ear, holding you a little tighter against her chest.

You melted into Paige, just absolutely breaking down.

“I got you..I got you..” Paige continued to murmur softly, cradling you against her chest.

Her chin rested on top of your head, her lips gently pressing into your hairline. She just held you in her lap, letting you have your moment.

"I wanted to do it…god, I wanted to be able to do it so bad..." You had managed to sob out, the sound twisting and ripping through Paige’s heart.

“I know you did, baby…” Paige murmured, her fingers gently combing through your hair. She knew it wasn’t in regard to the pampering anymore. It was so much more than that.

Her arms remained wrapped around you, holding you as tightly as she could. She hated seeing you so worked up like this, but it was clear that you needed to break. You needed to be able to let this out, and she was going to let you.

“Shhh….let it out….” Paige reassured you softly, her hand continuing to run through your hair.

Her fingers ran through your dark locks over and over again. She just kept repeating yourself, trying to soothe you.

“I got you…..you’re okay….I got you…” She held you as tightly as she could, trying to wordlessly remind you that you were safe here in her arms.

You just kept sobbing, harder and harder, till eventually you could barely breathe.

The sound of you sobbing broke Paige’s heart. She felt helpless as she just held you, listening to you sob and watching you fall apart.

“Baby..” She murmured softly, her arms wrapping a little tighter around you and trying to bring you as close as possible.

“Shhh…you’re okay….” Paige repeated again and again, just letting you cry it out. She hated how she wasn’t able to do anything more than just hold you, but if that’s what you needed in the moment, then that is what she was going to do.

You heaved, head shaking the best it could in the hold Paige had you in. Tears coating every inch of your face, pouring down like a waterfall. "I can't..I-I-I can't.."

Hearing those words made Paige’s heart ache.

She cradled you against her, her hand rubbing up and down your back as you continued to sob and break in her arms.

“You can…you are….” She replied softly, her lips gently pressing into your hair again.

“I’ve got you…I’ve got you…” Paige continued to repeat softly into your hair, desperate to keep you calm and stop your tears.

She continued running her fingers through your hair, her hand occasionally massaging the back of your neck.

The sobs eventually calmed into whimpers and sniffles, your body heavy and limp against Paige's. Exhausted.

You had calmed down considerably, your sobs and tears reduced to nothing but quiet sniffles. Paige gently took hold of your chin, tilting your head so Paige could see your face.

“There you are….there’s that gorgeous face of yours…” Paige murmured, hearing and feeling your sobbing, calm just a bit. She kept you close, your body still tightly clutched against hers. “That’s my girl…”

Your bottom lip still wobbled. Lips pulled into a small frown.

“Don’t go and ruin that pretty face. Don’t cry too much…can’t let you get all puffy on me…” Paige said with a soft smile, her thumb gently wiping away any remnants of tears from under your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, you know..” Paige said softly, her hand resting against your cheek. Her thumb gently traced one of your tear-stained cheeks.

That made your eyes well up again. Even the simple words hit somewhere deep in your chest, causing an ache she’d been so hard to ignore to grow more intense.

“Oh….no….” Paige instantly noticed your eyes welling up, tears threatening to fall again.

“Hey..hey….don’t do that again.” She said quickly, her thumb running over your cheek, trying to wipe away tears that hadn’t even fallen yet.

"I'm sorry.."

“None of that..” Paige said, gently hushing you. She kept her hand against your cheek, her touch gentle and caring. “No apologising…there’s no reason to be sorry…”

"I ruined everything."

“No way,” Paige said firmly, yet still in a soft tone. She was quick to correct you.

“You didn’t ruin anything. You had a moment, and it’s okay. Look at me…” Paige gently lifted your chin so that your eyes would meet hers.

“You didn’t ruin anything, alright? It’s okay that you broke a little…”

"A little?" You scoffed, rubbing at your cheeks with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Alright. A lot.” Paige said, a small chuckle leaving her.

“But it’s okay. You’re allowed to cry. You’re human, and you’ve been putting yourself under so much damn stress it’s a miracle you didn’t break down months ago. You have every right to cry, to break down, to be upset. But don’t you dare ever say you ruined anything.” Paige said firmly, her hand still holding your chin so that your gaze wouldn’t stray from hers.

"..I'm sorry."

“Why the hell are you sorry?” Paige said, still keeping your chin in her hand. Her tone was stern, wanting to know why you were still apologizing for breaking down.

You looked up slightly, just enough to finally meet the blonde's gaze. "I should have told you...accepted the money for the girls...I...they don't deserve to suffer"

“Mama…Come on,” Paige sighed and shook her head, finally letting go of your chin. “The girls are not suffering. They’re happy. You’re making damn sure of it. You’ve been doing everything you possibly can to make sure those girls don’t know you’re struggling, to make sure they’re taken care of.”

Paige’s hand fell away from your chin to grip your hip tightly. “You are not a failure. You didn’t ruin anything. You’re not allowing your daughters to suffer or whatever other bullshit you’re going to say next.”

"I-"

“No.” Paige cut you off. “No more of this. You’re gonna listen to me.”

She took in a deep breath and continued. “You are not doing anything wrong. You are a great mother. You have been busting your ass to make sure those girls have everything they could ever want. You’ve exhausted yourself. You’re running yourself thin.”

“You’ve run yourself so thin to the point that you’re literally letting yourself starve. You’re not feeding yourself. You’re not eating like you’re supposed to. You’re not sleeping. Your body and your mind are paying for it in the most awful way, and you just don’t see it. But I do. And now that I’m here, I’m not letting you run yourself like this anymore.”

"You have more important things than this..." Did she really? Her whole world was lying right in front of her, broken and messy.

That made Paige’s heart drop. She knew what you were doing. You were trying to push her away. Make her leave, even if it meant lying to herself.

She clenched her jaw, her hand tightening on your hip. “There is nothing more important to me than you.”

"Paige.."

“No, don’t you ‘Paige’ me. You’re going to listen to me.” Paige said, her tone slightly firmer than before. “You are literally on the brink of breaking. You are struggling. And your first instinct is to push me away? Why in the hell would I be anywhere else but here with you right now?”

"I'm not-"

“Yes, you are.” Paige gently shook her head, refusing to let you pull yourself into a self-pitiful spiral. “I don’t want you to tell me you’re not. I don’t even want to hear you think about it. You’re not going to try to pretend you’re not important because you’re the most goddamn important thing to me at this point.”

"I..I just.. I can't be what you want, what you need." And you truly believed that. Even after all these years, the things Paige’s agent had said to you echoed in your ears. That all you were and would ever be was a story. A star that burned up and was left alone in the dark. A burnt-out mom with two kids, who could barely pay the bills.

“Bullshit,” Paige said, her tone firm but soft. “You’re exactly what I need. You’ve always been exactly what I’ve wanted. You’re the one I’ve always wanted. You keep trying to push me away. You think I’m not going to fight to make sure you don’t? You’re stuck with me. For better or for worse.”

Paige didn’t want to let you look down and hide your tears away from her again. “You’re what I need. What I always needed. You’re everything to me, baby. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

"Then why did you sign the papers?"

That made her heart ache. She still regretted signing the papers and leaving her. So much.

“Because I was stupid,” Paige said softly. “And young and scared and an idiot. I should have never signed those damn papers. I should never have left.”

Paige was so close to you now. Her hand still cupping your chin delicately, eyes glued on yours. Everything in her body was screaming to kiss you and hold you and never let go.

But she held back, wanting to make sure you were truly okay first. She needed to get you to break down, get you to get it all out. And then she'd kiss you. She'd do everything she needed to give you the attention and affection you were craving.

You didn’t say anything, just shuffled to put your head on Paige's chest. Tucked under her chin.

Without hesitation, Paige took the opportunity to wrap her arms tightly around you. One hand returned to gently playing with your hair, fingers lightly tracing over your spine.

It was almost as if she knew exactly what you needed in that moment to soothe you, to calm you.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, just the sound of your sniffles and soft sniffles. Paige let you bury your head in her chest, not caring that you were crying on her shirt. The only thing that mattered to her was having you in her arms, holding you as tightly as she could, trying her hardest to silently show you how loved you.

“Don’t you ever doubt how damn important you are to me, alright?” Her voice was just as soft as her hand gently rubbing your back.

"It's been bad," You finally whispered. "The money.."

“I figured,” Paige responded, her hand moving from your hair to run along your back, rubbing slow soothing circles.

“How bad?” She asked softly, keeping you against her chest, holding you close and wanting to know just how bad things had gotten.

"..you don't want to know."

“Try me,” Paige responded instantly, one of her eyebrows raising. She had a pretty good feeling that she had a good idea how bad it had gotten. But she wanted to hear it from your mouth.

"The money you send goes to the girls, clothes, shoes, whatever's left over goes into a fund. The money from work goes to bills and food. They've been cutting hours."

Her eyes closed as she listened to everything you said. She could tell by the sound of your voice that this was hard for you to explain. That you felt ashamed.

Paige’s heart ached. How long had you been struggling like this and trying to do it all on your own?

That wasn’t gonna happen anymore.

She pulled you as close to her chest as she could and rested her chin on top of your head.

“God, baby…” Paige whispered, her heart squeezing in her chest as she held you tightly. It was hard to hear how much you were struggling. How you let everything pile up on yourself without trying to get help in the slightest.

She took a deep breath, holding you a little tighter before asking, “How long have you been drowning?”

"...too long"

“Longer than you should’ve been,” Paige responded immediately. She was angry. Not at you, but at the situation. “You’ve been drowning for God knows how long, and you haven’t told me one damn thing about it.”

"You work hard for your money. Just because I'm some ex doesn't mean I deserve it."

“Don’t you dare say that.” Paige’s grip on you tightened. The way you said it pissed her off. “You’re not some ex. You’re not just someone I used to be with. You’re not a burden or a freeloader. You matter to me, so you deserve every penny I have.”

"Paige, please-"

“No,” Paige said firmly, her arms not loosening on you. “Absolutely not. You’re not gonna talk down about yourself. You were never just my ex. You’re so much more than that.”

"I'm not taking your money."

“Too bad,” Paige said firmly, pulling away a little bit to look down at you. One of her hands went to gently lift your chin, wanting you to look her in the eye. “You’re not going to fight me on this. You’re struggling and you’re getting my goddamn help whether you like it or not.”

"You could do good with that money-" You tried to protest. Paige shut that down.

“You’re more important,” Paige said firmly, her hand gently tracing your jawline. “I don’t care about that money. I care about you. I will throw away every single penny I have to take care of you if I have to.”

That made you shake your head again. "Paige-"

“No.” Paige quickly cut you off, still holding your chin up to make you look her in the eyes. “Don’t even argue. It’s happening. I’m gonna spoil you, and I won’t let you talk yourself out of it.”

"...One week. You get one week. Pay the bills, buy groceries, clothes for the girls, whatever, but that's it."

“Two weeks,” Paige responded immediately, her hand still on your chin. She knew you were being stubborn and trying not to let yourself be treated. You were so hardheaded, it was infuriating at times.

You shook your head, still rubbing at your eyes. "One."

“Two,” Paige said again. “And don’t argue with me on this.”

“One.”

"Two."

"One."

“Two, Ma.”

"Seven days. One week."

“Not a chance. Two.”

"One, or nothing. Take it or leave it."

If possible, Paige’s grip on you got even tighter as her eyes narrowed. She was a stubborn person by nature. But when it came to you, she was even more stubborn.

“You don’t get to say no.” Her hand moved from your chin to the side of your face and gently took your chin in her fingers. “Two weeks is what I’m giving you. And I’m gonna spoil you the entire time.”

"No-" you really were trying here.

“Don’t even finish that.” Paige cut you off again, her jaw clenching. She was getting frustrated, watching you try to deny yourself things. “Two weeks. Two. And you’re not gonna spend a dime. I’m going to spoil you as much as I possibly can, and you’re gonna let me, no arguing. That’s the only deal I’m offering.”

You shook your head, pushing Paige away. "I don't accept."

“Too bad. It’s happening.” Paige cut you off before you could finish your sentence, shaking her head. “No more arguing. No more denying yourself. I’m taking care of you, I’m spoiling you for two weeks, and you’re going to enjoy it. No more fighting it. Alright?”

"And what about your games? And practice? And your place?" You raised a brow, cocking your head. Your voice took on the same tone Paige had heard before, the one you used just moments before she’d deck someone in the fucking face.

Paige shook her head and scoffed. “I don’t care about that stuff. That’s not what my priorities are right now. You are. And the girls are. I’m going to use every chance I get to take care of you. So suck it up. You don’t get to tell me no.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paigebueckers #paige bueckers #uconn womens basketball #uconn wbb

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vargrblood · 2 days ago

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎page ──── two

약한영웅 characters : how they express love ˳

includes class 1&2! 𔓕 gn!reader 𔓕 w.c 2.2k+

genres — romance, fluff, angst 𔓕 w mokha duo!

click to continue reading! 𔓕 prv. work

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ yeon sieun

As someone who did not receive proper love from his own parents and never saw them express love to each other, he's scared and worried about how to properly express his love to you and make you feel loved. However, he still tries his best to make you feel seen and appreciated.

His love comes out in quiet moments. If you fall asleep while studying together, he’ll move away the books and stationary and put a blanket on you. If you’re anxious or jittery for some reason he will hold your hand gently and try to calm you down. If you are crying or having a breakdown, he will stay by your side trying to soothe you, putting an arm around to shield you from the world. He might not say a lot but he listens and pays attention to everything you say.

Remember when Suho mentioned he was craving ox bone soup after the confrontation with Gilsu? Sieun got him exactly that and even bought burgers for Youngyi. Despite his demeanor, he is actually very warm hearted. Your favourite bakery is releasing a new type of donuts and you can’t go? He’ll be the third person in line to make sure you get them. If you mention liking a cartoon character, he’ll take a mental note of it and buy a plushie or keychain of it if he comes across it. Imagine Sieun buying you a Chiikawa keychain or a Pompompurin plush, my heart is so weak.

For someone who can go a day or two without eating when unsupervised, he will start taking care of himself because he is someone you cherish and love a lot. Loving you made him realise that just like how he doesn't want any harm to befall on his dear ones, his dear ones don’t want him to be hurt either.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ahn suho

He is someone who would be properly tuned with their partner’s needs. He is a people’s person so he definitely tries his best to keep up with couple trends. Definitely the type to ask you to do tiktok trends with him. He also has immaculate and unsurpassable rizz, sometimes you would not even realise that you got rizzed up by him.

Also the type to flirt with you if you are arguing or lecturing him, he would leave you flustered and the topic would change. His love language is quality time, so expect some long night drives as he drives to nowhere in particular and you both talk about anything and everything.

He is a guardian angel, truly. To your surprise he always shows up everytime you need him. He always knows when to give you some space and when to cheer you up. When he is not working, he is laying in your lap and dozing off. Dinner and gaming dates are the most common with him, he would also take you to the arcade to play air hockey and kiss you every time he gets a point against you.

After he wakes up from a coma, he will try his best to recover and diligently do his rehab so he can make up for the time you couldn’t be together. He waits for you to visit him everyday. He is also the type to peel and feed you the fruits you brought for him. He just loves to spend time with you, doesn’t matter what you’re both upto, sharing a room while you both do your own thing is enough for him.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ oh beomseok

He, like most of the kids in the show, did not grow up with a family with healthy dynamics. However, he has seen relationships in different media and has an idea about how they work. After getting in a relationship, he tries his best to keep you impressed.

He is definitely the type to splurge on you. He would buy you even the things you mentioned in passing. He does not know how to stop despite you telling him not to spend so much on you. Expect to go on several dates to arcades, game zones & malls.

If you ever disagree on something, he will quickly change his opinion to fit yours and start fawning. The way he was raised, it seems more than just plausible. But he really does love you and does not want to have a different opinion than you on most things.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ jeon seokdae

The type to listen when you scold him and nod everytime. He doesn't argue or talk back when you lecture him, he lets you let it all out. He listens every word and tries his best to improve for you.

He always checks up on you and makes sure you're not skipping your meals. He likes to cook for you, so expect dates where he comes over to your home and cooks for you while you both chat.

He seems like a protective guy (like have you seen his broad shoulders?). You can always call him if you experience anything unfavourable, he'll run to you to comfort you.

He likes to spend time with you, doesn't matter if it is just you both taking a stroll at night or doing your own thing during a video call. He really wants to be the person you can trust about anything and tries his best to be someone you see a future with.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ youngyi

She's big on physical affection, so expect public displays of affection. She would latch onto your arm and not let you go. But if you're not into PDA or physical affectionate at all, she'll do it privately or tone it down a lot.

She loves looking up fast-food places and restaurants so you both can visit together and spend some time and unwind while enjoying a good meal.

She has a special folder of your pictures she took and selfies where you're together. She definitely looks at them before going to sleep or to cheer herself up while working part-time. She loves taking your pictures. She even has an Instagram highlight dedicated to you.

She loves texting you, chats with her are always full of memes, stickers and random pictures. She's also the type to wait for you outside your school, workplace or hakwon so you can hangout together when you're done with your responsibilities.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ seo juntae

He is definitely the helicopter partner. He makes sure that you're taking your vitamins and reccomends you medicines to help with any issue you might be having. He has become your own personal little doctor.

You're not feeling well? His hands on your forehead checking your temperature. You feel a little nauseous? Here's an acupuncture point you need to massage. You have a headache? He'll massage your temples. Feeling sleepy? Here's his shoulder for you to lean on.

He tries his best to ensure you're doing physically well and takes care of you and your health. He also tries his best to not be overbearing while doing this.

He might be shy to initiate physicsl affection but he compensates it by words of affirmations and acts of service. He does not shy away from appreciating you and complimenting you, he's proud to call himself your partner.

Dates with him are the simplest. He does not mind going to grocery shopping with you if it means he gets to spend time with you. If you're getting your hair done, he's sitting there at the lounge ready to praise your new haircut or style when you're done. Overall, he's such a sweet guy, even your parents love him.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ go hyuntak

He expresses his care for you by nagging. He has your best at heart, so he nags you. He makes sure you're not upto something stupid or hanging out with the wrong crowd. If you're upto some stupid shenanigans, he's at a distance (with a camera) to ensure you don't end up hurting yourself (to record you embarrassing yourself.)

His love language is teasing but he knows his limits and never crosses boundaries. He also tries to be very nonchalant but he's actually too downbad so his loverboy side always ends up shining. He's the type of get you small trinkets and things as gifts and says they reminded him of you so he got them for you but in reality he looks for you in everything.

He just loves to hear your voice so much that he always calls you for no reason. He always gets blinded by your beauty even when you're both upto something mundane. He likes taking your pictures. He goes through them every night and kicks his feet because he's just so in love with you.

He takes you on all kinds of dates. Perfume making, clay art, carnival, acrade, art museums etc, it does not matter, if it can be turned into a date, he will do it. Doesn't matter if you're both volunteering at an old age home– if he gets to spend time with you, it's a date.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ park 'baku' humin

He expresses his love for you in every way possible. He praises you all the time and talks of you so highly to everyone around him. He talks about you so much that his closest friends can easily recite every single interaction and moment you both shared before you started dating.

He's the type to say ‘This one's for you!’ while pointing at you as he shoots the basketball and actually score. Everytime you're with him, he has a big smile on his face. He loves sappy and corny nicknames and calls you by them.

He always shares his food with you. If you're in the cafeteria having lunch, he'll put a piece of meat from his own plate into yours saying that you need the protein. He also transfers vegetables he dislikes under the guise of them being an important source of nutrients.

His hands always find yours somehow. He says you're both opposite ends of a magnet, meant to be together. He's big on physical affection so expect hugs and pats all the time. He loves to put his head on your shoulder to convey that you're someone he can always rely on.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ geum seongje

His love language is annoying the fuck out of you. He just loves to push your buttons and loves to tease you because he finds your pissed-off-and-angry face hot. But he still knows that there are some lines that should not be crossed and never does anything that would actually affect you negatively.

If you're a smoker, he'll steal cigarettes from your fingers and put it between his lips. If you find your cigs missing from the box, just know it was Seongje. If you're a non-smoker who can't tolerate the smoke, he'll try his best not to smoke when you're around.

He always keeps his eyes on you to ensure you're always safe and not getting tangled up in the Union’s mess. His RBF is enough to ward off anyone who might’ve been even thinking of bothering you.

Dates with him would probably be either the most normal (like taking late night strolls around the neighborhood) or the most outlandish (eating takeout inside an abandoned building you both just trespassed into.)

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ na baekjin

Baekjin expresses his love towards you by not expressing it. It is his way you keep you safe and protected. Him leading the Union and his involvement with Cheon Gang would only mean targets put on you and Baekjin would never allow it. If something were to happen to you, Baekjin would not be able to forgive himself.

However, love demands to be seen. His love would be visible only if you have the ability to notice how subtle is kind actions are. He pulls strings inconspicuously to ensure that his affection reaches you somehow.

If you are having trouble understanding some study material, he will patiently explain it to you. If you rant to him or share your troubles, he will listen carefully and provide you with the best possible solution and share honest advice.

He would also send you gifts and flowers anonymously, something akin to a secret admirer. This would be enough to satisfy him because love is a luxury Baekjin cannot afford.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ baek dongha

Well we don't have any material to start with so I will take some artistic liberties. He looks like he would find lighting someone's cigarette romantic. If you're in his presence, he will never let you light your own cigarettes.

Dates with him would definitely include shit-talking people. A+ bowling is a regular hangout spot for you, as you bowl and he does his Union duties.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ do seongmok

Artistic liberties again. He would never let you hold anything, be it bags, or the jacket you just removed, he will hold them for you.

He's not a speaker so he compensates for it by being a listener and always being there for you. He would always offer you his hoodies and jackets because he loves to see you in his clothes.

note Ꮺ

nobody told me writing headcanons about twelve different characters was so hard 😭 also thanks for the love on my previous work!! around 300 notes is insane!!!!

also my requests are open! read more about here, feel free to send in some requests. also comment if you want to be tagged in my future whc works!!

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separatetheyolk · 1 day ago

Text

F1 Drivers X Disabled M!Reader

ʚɞ featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz

ʚɞ how f1 drivers would react to learning you're disabled

ʚɞ notes: there are multiple disabilities in this. I wanted to cover a range of them eventually but I didn't want like 27 posts and I didn't want this time to be repetitive. Some such as tics and hypermobility are also rather broad instead of nailing it down to tourettes or hEDS for inclusivity. This is also a smidge self-indulgent lol

ʚɞ Also sorry for going MIA for like two months, will get to asks next!

ʚɞ requests are open!

Lewis Hamilton - Tics

He didnt even notice it at first. Verbal sounds would fall into the backround and smaller motor tics would often go amiss. It went undetected for about a year as they progressively got worse, eventually drawing Lewis' attention towards you more often despite your job shifting to a one which tics couldn't interrupt. Cars hurling around a track at such high speeds meant there was no room for error. Your tics caused too much error as a mechanic and you sure as hell couldn't be pit crew. A sad reality, but reality none the less.

Once he caught on, there was no judgment. He'd make sure you'd know there was no need to try and suppress them around him, no need to feel embarrassed.

Often times he'd take the fall for noises you'd make or cups you'd knock over. You'd insisted he didn't need to if it brought him embarrassment. He insisted you lived your life in a constant state of it. If he could take that away even just for a second, he would.

By the time you'd gotten together, your tics had gotten to the point of hurting yourself or others. You'd resigned from your job at Mercedes at the end of the 2023 season, but was still a familliar face around the garrage on race weekends. Often times walking around with icepacks to your neck or hands given to you by Lewis before he'd go out for practice, quali or the actual race. Each time coming back, having a quick shower and continuing with his checkups in more detail

He'd often hold open cups for you, your phone too if needed.

He'd give you something to keep you busy if you wanted him to which would help the tics to ease off.

Times where your voice was too shot to talk, Lewis wold be your voice, times where you'd suspected something was broken, Lewis would drop everything and drive you to the nearest accident and emergency, times where you had damaged a hand, Lewis would act as a spare. Help you with anything you needed without any hesitation

You'd frequently walk into the hotel room with a warm bath already drawn to help relax overworked muscles.

Charles Leclerc - Hypermobility

You'd met Charles when you were young in karting before you'd realised there were issues with you joints. Keeping in touch throughout both your careers and even after you had to leave yours unfinished.

By the time you both started dating, you had been travelling with him throughout two seasons. He'd watched your hypermobility grow worse over the years of friendship but being by your side for two years had really shown him how it affected you

He'd done research on your disability late into the night, researched braces and other mobility aids. He'd get braces for you to try (with your permission) and would buy extra of the ones you liked.

When the realisation you needed a cane at twenty four hit, Charles was right by your side. Supporting you with this new change and any breakdowns that occurred. Once you had eventually gotten it, Charles would keep it tucked away in his backpack wherever the two of you went, just incase. Reassuring you that you didn't "look stupid" when you used it and that if you needed to, you should.

He'd often act as a post for you to lean on if your knees or hips began to hurt too much. Or he'd just carry you if you said he could.

Of course, dislocations always scared him. Regardless on whether you were able to fix it yourself or not. He never liked when you'd do it yourself, scared you'd pinch a nerve or cut off circulation but those times where the joint just would not go, he was always the first to voulenteer to drive you to accident and emergency.

When you'd decided that a wheelchair would be beneficial, he would push you around if you couldn't do it yourself for whatever reason and help you transfer in and out if you needed it

He would be incredibly mindful of the fact independance was something you still needed, only stepping into help when you'd ask. Or if you were too stubborn, when absolutely neccesarry.

Carlos Sainz - Autism

He hardly understood it at first. He knew sometmes things would be too loud, but he didnt quite understand just how loud they could be. He also didn't understand the whole texture thing.

But with a lot of research and countless conversations he started to understand.

It began with little things first, keeping wireless headphones in his bag whenever you'd need them. They used to be his. But he'd ultimately decided he preferred earphones so decided to give them to you.

He'd then learned what stimming was. Shaking your hands, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet, stepping side to side, walking in tight circles. Once that had been discovered, he started to carry around fidget toys.

Oh and then there were times where you'd go nonverbal. While he couldn't constantly have his phone charged to use the notes app, he did steal a notepad from one of the many hotels you'd both stay in during the racing season. Sometimes you'd use it, which did make it easier, sometimes even the feel of pencil on paper was too much input for you so it would be yes or no questions. Harder to work with, but he'd learned which ones to ask eventually.

Then there was the struggle of clothes shopping. Certain textures were too scratchy, or bumpy or just didnt feel right in ways you couldn't describe. Oh and the people. And the lights. And the sound. Carlos had quickly learned that breaking up the shopping into multiple days throughout the week would be easier. So, you both decided that leaving clothes shopping for the breaks inbetween seasons would be better. No pressure to get shopping done in any timeframe and you knew exactly what shops there were and what ones done clothing you liked.

When it came to travelling, Carlos would bring bedsheets he knew you liked from home. Both of you learning very quickly on the first night of the 2024 season that some hotel sheets were just not right. Leaving you both looking for bedsheets you liked wandering around the malls of Bahrain using every coping mechanism you could think of.

There would probably be talks of assistance dogs. If that was a yes, Carlos would search high and low for the best training services out there. And he would probably become more pissed than you if you were denied access due to your assistance dog.

He also learned what safe foods were after questioning why you'd eaten the same food for the last week. He wasn't a fan of the lack of variety but he'd never push you to eat something you weren't comfortable with.

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jaehyunmirae · 2 days ago

Text

return the favor | l.jn

jeno x female reader.

FILTHYYYYY!!!! mirror sex, fingering (lots of fingering), praise kink, humiliation, shameless porn, oral (receiving and giving), manhandling, overstimulation, did i mention- filthy as fuck?

jeno could feel your body tense as he held you close.

he never stopped kissing you everywhere—your lips, your neck, your chest—like he’s out to devour what’s left in your lungs the way he’s leaving you breathless every step of the way.

“please let me do everything for you tonight,” he pleads.

you can sense his experience during times like this. even when his words feigned meek obedience, his steps were bold and that overwhelming confidence made you want to hide as much as it makes you want him so desperately.

jeno leads you to the bedroom. while making out, you slowly gained the confidence to fight for dominance, only focusing on his lips and the way his hands traveled across your body.

he lets you lead for a while, entertaining your illusion believing you'll have your way with him. engrossed with a million different sensations, you missed his real intentions. jeno sits at the edge of the bed, placing you between him and the mirror.

"show's over baby," his voice deepens, catching you off guard.

it took you a few seconds to process what he said before gripping your waist, spinning you around to face the mirror. you caught the look on his face, smirking while maintaining direct eye contact through the reflection. jeno stands up, then gently pushes you to take two steps forward.

a pit formed in your stomach.

he kisses your hair, then your temple, and your cheek. he hums nonchalantly, pushed all your hair to one side, and nudged you to tilt your head. this way he had full access to your neck, first dragging his nose across the nape, his lips on your sensitive skin.

"don't close your eyes. watch me."

he stays clothed while taking off every piece of clothing off your body one by one. every part of your bare skin revealed by his undressing did not go untouched, massaged by his hands or tasted by his tongue. too much, too many for you to handle, yet too quick, too soft for you to feel satisfied.

you tried reaching out to him, pulling on his shirt and trousers as a protest. he knows you were getting impatient, bothered by him keeping his clothes on still.

"-wanna see you," you whispered, shuddering as his hand grazed too close to your core without hesitation.

"keep your panties on," he avoided your plea and chuckled.

jeno sits back down and pulls you into the bed with him. now, you're both sitting on the edge, facing the mirror directly.

he slowly spreads your legs, smiling as he noticed the wet spot. he starts kissing your neck and shoulders again before his hand found its way inside, feeling your wetness on his fingers.

you instinctively closed your legs but he pulls them apart with his other hand, putting a little bit more pressure than usual.

“look up, baby. look at how beautiful you are.”

jeno waits until you eased through his touch. he pulls the fabric to the side, gathering your wetness to spread them across your folds.

deeply embarassed and turned on at the same time, you were torn between closing your eyes and hide or watch his fingers play with your pussy all night long. your conflict was evident in the way your moans escaped your lips. they betrayed your efforts to keep your composure, and jeno was loving every minute of it.

jeno lifts you up from behind to get your panties off, tossing them behind, "i need to stretch you out. okay, baby?"

you nodded quickly, finding yourself a little too ready to act coy. jeno slowly entered his middle finger inside you, showering you with praises.

"so wet, so easy.. hmm."

jeno continued kissing your shoulder while moving his finger in and out, feeling you shake under his touch. he whispered his praises by your ear, distracting you from the discomfort of adding another digit, until he was able to comfortably fit three.

“f-fuck…” you moaned when he curled his fingers, feeling his palm rubbing your clit at the same time.

“you're so wet- shit, can you hear that?”

jeno takes his hand to lift your chin up, urging you to watch him through the mirror. torn between feeling embarrassed and turned on by the obscene sight before your eyes, you watched as jeno fucked you from behind with his fingers. tears streaming down your face ruined your mascara but jeno has never seen you so breathtaking.

“oh my fucking- argh..” holding back your moans, you bit your lip to muffle the sinful sounds escaping out of your mouth despite drowning in the intensity you were losing yourself in.

“are you scared that the people next door can hear us?”

“y-yeah…”

“don’t be shy. be loud for me," he kept his eyes on you through the mirror, encouraging you to be as loud as you can, "let them hear you.”

you arched her back, feeling your orgasm building, "-gonna come.”

“already? we barely started-"

“please- it's too much. fuck!"

"okay, then come. don't fight it.”

you screamed jeno's name, hit with the embarrassment as reality dawns upon you. you just watched herself come in front of the mirror. for the first time.

“i can't believe you came just from my fingers.”

jeno took off his shirt, wiping his hand with it before tossing it behind you. turning to look at his face, your vision still trying to adjust from reaching your high, he kisses you. he was absolutely gone and aroused from what he witnessed, keeping a mental note to fuck you in front of the mirror more often.

it took every fiber of your being to stop yourself from jumping on his bones. you turned your whole body towards him, planting your palms on his chest, climbing on top of him, and feeling him up through his trousers, "did you get hard from that?”

"holy shit- who wouldn't? you just came from my fingers.”

“let me return the favor.”

“oh no. i already said i want to do everything for you.”

“no-" you stopped him from fighting with your lips. following his methods, you started kissing and licking him all the way from his chest to his v-line, distracting his senses as you unbuckled his belt to pull his pants and boxers down.

jeno was so fucking hard that he couldn’t protest the second your hand wrapped around him. no part of him wanted you to stop.

“i want you to feel good.”

“it’s so sensitive, fuck- slow down-”

“no- fuck you! as if you slowed down for me," you snapped before taking him in.

licking him from the shaft all the way to the head, you were determined to make his head go wild. you bat your eyes at him, looking up from underneath, making the image even more obscene than what you're doing with your mouth.

“fuck,” jeno covers his face, going crazy from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, "-m not gonna the last if you keep going.. ugfh-"

“told you i'm returning the favor," you laughed as you moved your wrist, pumping his dick. saliva was dripping down your chin when you took his cock out of your mouth. again, without warning and without paying any mind to the mess you've made, you took his cock in your mouth, much deeper this time.

“i'm gonna come- shit!”

you opened your mouth wide open, earning a quiet “what the fuck” from jeno. you nodded without saying anything more. he tries to stop and try to find another way to unload but he simply couldn’t help himself as your hand kept moving, leaving him no choice but to come inside your mouth.

swallowing it all, you felt a drip escaping from your lips. your eyes watered from the sensation of his load shooting at the back of your throat but the sight of jeno falling apart from your touch was worth it. jeno pulls your face up, his heart dropped all the way down to his stomach after realizing what just happened.

“what the fuck- you're killing me, do you know that?"

jeno kisses you hard, tasting himself on your tongue

he lifts you up and drops you down the bed without breaking contact. he starts kissing down your body and positions his head in between her thighs.

“now, i want you to come from my tongue.”

you had the whole zoo roaring in her stomach after hearing that, barely voicing out, “what” from your hoarse throat after sucking him off. jeno's lips trail across your inner thighs. he starts licking stripes towards the direction close to your pussy, not quite licking you in the right places.

“let me clean you up," he says referring from your come earlier.

“b-but i'm not recovered from earlier, fuck.. jeno-”

“no time to recover, babe. my favor's all yours."

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno #nct #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #lee jeno hard hours #jeno hard hours #nct hard thoughts #two lost drafts and three hours of sleep later #this one was a lot of fun to write but holy shit im tired #i need to sleep #my smut these days never reach to the good part my goodness #haha maybe one day one of the neos will finally hit the home run lol #good night (it's 2:43 am)

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lucabyte · 12 hours ago

Note

I dunno if you’ve seen what’s in the isat artbook yet but there’s a mention in there of id5’s support of she/her Loop which made me think of that great post you made a while ago on Loop gender!!! Just thought I’d let ya know since that post was absolutely foundational to my personal Loop thoughts lol!

ok goofs aside lol hi. first of all: really funny that more than one of you thought of me for this. my powers. and second of all: okay ill actually give my thoughts.

alright so for the uninitiated (THIS POST) (+bonus link to it with extra additions i like) is what these two anons are talking about. It's about 8k words on my like, puzzled-out hard textual read of what i think is up with Siffrin/Loop's gender.

So, re: the artbook content (READMORE ON ACCOUNT OF ME GETTING LONGWINDED AGAIN)

The relevant passages here are pages 113, 38 and 39 (with a sidebar i want to bring up on 89).

I'm going to crop it down to only what is necessary to get to my point because adrienne doesn't want big chunks or full pages posting, so here's my little collage.

113: The page is primarily about finding ways to disguise Loop's true identity, and that's what most of the visuals on the page are about. The note I've cropped [Loop using she/her...] is on the most siffrin looking of these images, just being them sans cloak, eyepatch and hat.

This, to me, reads like the intent at the time was what eventually evolved into Loop's "Royal We" joke misdirect and their they/them only status. Consideration of, 'would just showing off a character nigh identical to sif but with "opposite" pronouns be enough to throw people off the trail?' that I would imagine evolved into just dropping the he/him, since that's more than enough to do so when you also change their appearence to be more ethereal.

*But* ArtbookCommentary!Adrienne is the one saying "She/her Loop is an incredible idea." owing to some level of affinity toward the concept in retrospect. Lends it some creator-branded 'cool points', which aren't worth *much* in terms of Quality of Textual Evidence, but certainly lends it points against being a *bad* read.

So I read this as like, while on it's own, not much more than conjecture when it comes to supporting the idea of transfemme loop-- I think as another arrow in the overall quiver it strengthens that idea that Siffrin is sticking by their he/hims as a like... side effect of how he was born/raised and sees change as something they can't do. It's less a point in support, and more a point *against* it being wrong. (It's like how in science you try to falsify things in order to prove them, y'know? Evidence *against* it being false is different to evidence *for* it being true, but it's almost better that way, sometimes??) Speaks to the idea that Loop would see those pronouns as a Disguise in some way, which to me, when paired with pages 38-39 and the dress* gives the implication that femininity is an untapped well for them. That it's new, and not something they'd do without a plausibly deniable excuse. Which continues to feed into my readings of Siffrin being amab and uncomfortable with change, even if (especially if) they want it in some way. It kind of has to be forced onto them to allow them to try it, because then it's not their choice, now is it?

*The dress is absolutely in reference to the prologue line, isn't it? it being grafted to their skin unlike the other considerations for clothes shown on the page too, aligns with this idea of Loop's body being informed by their wants/feelings about themselves in some way (distinctly inhuman, no need to eat, no need to smile anymore, yet still blind). But where canon!loop has no gendered traits to hold them down anymore, dress!loop would be more of a giveaway of their desires to at least express *some* femininity. (See: my prior essay for further thoughts on how i think that manifests, and my thoughts on it being a somewhat doylist read of the game's themes that i stand by)

(god buddy. you get deeper into the timeloop and it makes you . forget everything . about fucking everything . but the want that bubbles to the surface harder is this? loop. christ im repeating myself again go read my previously linked essay if you arent these two anons i go into way more detail.)

BUT YEAH. yeah.

I think it's a stretch to say things that aren't literally in game, and are still at most discarded exploration of character really count as Evidence for in-game reads, as they are paratext at best-- But. buttttttt buttttttt they do offer a good insight into the intent with which some things were most likely approached. like i say, it's not evidence /for/ my theory, just evidence /against/ me being on the wrong track. But yes i do feel pretty vindicated that this aligns so well with my amab nb siffrin/transfem loop trutherism. Which makes sense, given that the Whole Point of that read was to try and sleuth out the authorial intent, rather than anything else.

Like, i was following a framework in specific of (posts wikipedia screenshot for 'authorial intent')

as opposed to the equally valid Reader-Response framework (under which death of the author also falls)

which is why in that thing i stress so hard that i'm trying to abstain from my own bias (whether or not i succeed? idk. i do break my own rule for a second when pointing out how hard siffrin's fear of change resembles transfem repression in specific as i relate it to my friends and wider observations). but yeah. it was very nice that the artbook aligned so nicely since pairing my readings against the author's own literal words was always going to be the Ultimate Test™ for an authorial-intent based reading.

... oh ! and the sidebar i said i'd have.

Page 89:

get forcibly changed idiot. fucking themes lol (this was also vindicating as a 'loop stays as a star' truther which is something i tie into my themes of gender/sif not accepting change until its forced upon them. but it's not the mostest relevant to the convo without that context. but whee!)

#this is more of a victory lap ramble than a coherent theorypost but i deserve it so wahoo yippieee #isat artbook spoilers #isat spoilers #lucabytetalks #lucabytewrites #isat loop #i had several other theories and reads i dont think ive expounded upon (AND ALSO A NOHATS THING...) that felt like they were vindicated by #the artbook in this same way of like. confirming that what i was speculating was Most Likely the author's intent.#authorial intent is my like. favourite framework bc its the most fun to compare and contrast with my other favourite which #is obviously death of the author. saying this aloud is like admitting my favourite drink is fucking tap water. philistine behaviour.#(... anyway. i do have at least one drawing cooking that came from thinking about this. don't worry. or do.)

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dannyriccsystem · 3 days ago

Note

hey love, can I get a 10, 31 and 48 with yuki? plus if it's possible, the reader is chubby

HONEST, LET’S MAKE THIS NIGHT LAST FOREVER!

1K SPECIAL - YT22

Awkward first date + “I love the way you moan my name.” + “this is wrong,” “so wrong.”

SUMMARY: Your first date with Yuki goes awfully, but simmering feelings build up and one thing leads to another…

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

WARNINGS: Eventual smut, P in V, chubby & short reader, disaster date leads to sex

FEATURING: Yuki Tsunoda x Reader

NOTE: MEOWW I LOVE HIM. WOWZA.

THE NIGHT HAD GONE HORRIBLY. It wasn’t either you or Yuki’s fault, either. Instead it seemed like the universe was trying to send you signs and you just kept ignoring them. At the beginning, the night was lovely. For your first official date, after years of dancing around your attraction, Yuki took you to a candlelit restaurant with soft music for ambience. The menu was expensive and fancy, but nothing the two of you couldn’t handle.

The first mishap was something you could easily get over. The waitress was bringing out a bottle of Pinot Noir, a decently spendy red wine, when she unintentionally ended up spilling it all over your white top. She apologized profusely, offering the bottle on the house. Yuki showed his gentlemanly side when he said he’d pay for it nonetheless, and gave you his suit jacket to cover up the stain.

If it was just that, things would have been fine, but unfortunately the night continued to escalate. You were holding your menu, which held the texture of construction paper— It felt rather cheap for such a high end restaurant. You hummed, flipping the page. A burning smell hit your nose, and your head flicked up to find your menu on fire, having been lit by a table candle.

You squealed subconsciously, which obviously drew Yuki’s attention. He gasped, grabbing his water and splashing it onto the growing flames. They diminished quickly, revealing the charred corners of the menu. You sighed with relief, shaking your head. With his adrenaline still pumping, Yuki slammed the glass back down, shattering the bottom and sending the water flying onto his lap.

You tried to ignore all that, because the chemistry in the air was still sparking, aside from a few failed jokes and flirtatious comments from both ends. Those were expected, though. You two knew each other for a long time, but had never interacted in a manner of intimacy. You managed to make it to the end of your meal without any mishaps, but right as the two of you were leaving, the man at the table beside you began to choke.

Yuki jumped in quickly, performing the Heimlich like it was no big deal. He drove you back to your building, offering to walk you back up to your apartment. The dinky elevator came to a screeching halt, the dinging noise crunchy over the speakers. The doors squeaked open, and you shamefully walked with him to your front door.

“Sorry that this date was such a mess,” You giggled, turning back to face him. You still had his jacket draped over your body, covering the deep red wine stain.

Yuki just smiled, his hands buried in his pockets. “It’s not your fault. I think that restaurant was fucking cursed or something,” He rolled his eyes dramatically, and then looked back to you, his gaze softening almost immediately.

“Haha, right?” You shifted awkwardly, the silence settling in like oil on water. You cleared your throat, and right when he was about to excuse himself, you instinctively blurted out, “Do you want to come inside? Maybe, you know, enjoy some cheap wine that won’t stain your clothes…”

“Yes.” He replied instantly, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’d be great.” He tried to correct himself and act as if his initial reply wasn’t somewhat desperate, but that was hard to do when you were standing there in his jacket, looking so damn pretty.

“Great,” You fumbled for your keys, unlocking the door and pushing it open. You grumbled, “Sorry for the mess.” Not that Yuki cared, especially since the ‘mess’ in question was just a few bags thrown around, and a sink with some dirty dishes in it. “Uhm, make yourself at home, I can pour us a drink.” You gestured to the living room. You had a comfortable, worn in couch with a few throw blankets and pillows. Across from it was a TV on a wooden stand, and a rug beneath them both.

He slid his shoes off, just as you did, and then took a seat on the plush couch— He immediately sunk in, the amount of comfort coming off as a surprise to your date. He shifted around, getting comfortable in his seat. You entered from the kitchen moments later, holding two mismatched glasses full of white wine.

You tenderly set one on a warped coaster upon the coffee table for him, but kept yours close to your body, swirling the glass anxiously. “So, out of every date you’ve been on, what do you rate this one?” You asked softly, mostly teasing. You had an idea of what he’d say.

Except, he didn’t. “You know, I’d give it a ten.” He picked up his glass, sipping to test the flavor. After deciding he liked it, Yuki took a larger gulp.

“A ten?”

“It was real. I got to see a glimpse of the real you.”

You hesitated, nodding at his words. “And?”

“And I think she’s… Really charming.” You didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned you up and down. It was impossible to just brush by that sort of thing, because this was Yuki Tsunoda, and he looked like he was madly in love already. He took another sip, pacing himself this time. “I liked it.”

“All of it?” He nodded. “Even when I nearly set myself on fire?”

“Even when you nearly set yourself on fire.” He scooted just a bit closer, your knees knocking against his. It felt natural. “Can I kiss you?”

The question was unexpected, but that didn’t change your answer. You nodded vigorously, causing Yuki to laugh. He set his glass down, leaning it for a soft kiss. It was gentle at first, like a slow song that drew you onto the dance floor to begin with.

But around fifteen seconds in, you had to set your wine glass aside as well, fearful you might drop it in the haste of everything. His hands were holding your wide hips, thumbs caressing whatever skin he could get his hands on. You had your hands buried in his hair, pulling him closer greedily.

“Do you normally kiss girls like this after one date?” You inquired, your breath ticklish on his soft lips. Yuki grinned, pecking you once more.

“No,” He replied easily, like he didn’t have to think twice. “It feels wrong.”

“So wrong,” You agreed. “But yet, so right.” It had to have been him—If it were anyone but Yuki, you wouldn’t have gone from disaster to full on making out with on a few hours. Not that you were complaining because, again, this was Yuki.

The kissing continued, fading into something hotter. Yuki grabbed at her, taking hold of anything he could. For such a small guy, he was incredibly strong. His arms pulled you onto his lap with practiced ease, lips becoming needier—hungrier.

He explored every inch of you with his hands. Your waist, your back, your breasts—any part that made you squirm, which then made his growing erection becoming glaringly obvious. He pulled away, a string of saliva forming a bridge between your swollen lips. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, please— Don’t stop.”

The room was suddenly filled with shuffling clothes, soft moans, and the sticky slapping of his cock thrusting in and out of you, moving so carefully. You had your face buried in his neck, his hands squishing the soft flesh along your sides. “Yuki-” You stuttered out, and you felt his hips jerk up into you harshly.

“Fuck, I love it when you moan my name like that.” If you had known that God awful dates would lead to nights like this, you wouldn’t have been fucking things up for yourself more often. Yet, it had to be Yuki. Nobody else would find such a weird night to be charming.

He shuffled the two of you around, bodies pressed together warmly as he rolled you both over. You were on your back, your legs spread so he could continue pistoning his cock into your warmth. You held the couch cushions for stability your tits jiggling with every thrust from the sheer force.

“Yuki-” You whimpered again, your walls clamping down on him as your orgasm began to form. He continued, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Please- Come inside,” You practically begged. Your voice was light and airy, making it impossible to resist. You were on the pill, so in theory it would be fine.

He listened, and right after you finally climaxed, Yuki spilled his seed deep inside your hole. He slid his cock out, allowing it to soften before he made any sort of movements. He helped clean you up.

Afterwards, both of you now dressed once more, he buried his face in your chest, arms wrapped around you. Looked like Yuki would be staying the night— Maybe that was for the best.

“For the record,” He began. “That was the first time a date ever ended with me coming inside of someone.”

You laughed uncontrollably, and the sound was music to his ears. “Whatever you say, big daddy.” You teased, referencing his one time nickname for Max once again.

“Shut up,” Yuki groaned into your neck.

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littlest-w01f · 2 days ago

Text

Message

Caleb x reader

CALEB MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: Your adoptive brother suggested the best way to get a creepy guy off your back. After trying nearly everything, you try his way. Send a message.

Cw: Pseudo-incest, kinda rough Caleb, recordings, Smut 18+ MDNI

"Oh, look, your boyfriend is texting, pipsqueak." Caleb stood with your phone in his hand, unlocked, waving at you. A teasing, shit eating grin on his lips.

Your eyes were wide from where you were at your desk, working on an assignment, "CALEB!" You jumped, charging towards him, "Why are you looking through me phone?"

Caleb chuckled as he held up the phone, feigning innocence. "Just seeing if you got that text from Alex yet," he said, his grin never wavering. His eyes sparkled with mischief as they roamed over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and flustered expression.

Without warning, Caleb reached out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin. "Relax, pipsqueak. I wasn't reading anything juicy," He cooed, trying to placate you. But there was a playful glint in his eye, hinting at secrets only the two of you knew. He stepped closer, invading your personal space.

"He's not my boyfriend." You said, jumping at him to get your phone back, "He's just some dude at the academy who won't leave me alone... He keeps texting me and I don't even respond, and wants to spend the entire time at the academy with me even though me and all my friends have told him off..." You scowled.

Caleb smirked as you tried to snatch your phone away, his grip firm but not unyielding. "Is that so? Well, maybe I can help deal with this pesky 'dude'," He suggested, his voice low and husky. His free hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

As you struggled for control of the phone, Caleb's other hand found its way under your shirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your lower back. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Let me take care of this Alex for you."

His body pressed firmly against yours, making it clear what kind of 'help' he had in mind. One hand still gripped your phone, while the other continued its sensual exploration of your skin. Caleb's lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he murmured, "I promise, no more unwanted texts or advances after today."

"How...?" You gasped as he pulled you closer till you landed on your floor with the force he pulled, ending up on top of him.

Caleb's hands moved quickly, pinning your wrists above your head as he gazed down at you with a hungry intensity. "Leave that to me, mèimei." he growled, rolling his hips to grind against yours. The hard bulge in his jeans rubbed against your core, igniting a heat within you.

His mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss, tongue delving past your lips to tangle with yours. Caleb's free hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers brushing against the fabric of your lingerie. "Tell me you want me to handle this Alex problem," he demanded between kisses, nipping at your bottom lip.

You groaned as he ground against you, clothed, yet you could feel him fully. A blush formed on your cheeks at the nickname he hadn't called you in forever. "Cale- Grandma is downstairs..." You wiggled under him, unintentionally rubbing on his cock, "She'll walk in..."

Caleb's eyes flickered open, meeting yours with a mischievous glint before focusing back on your lips. "Gran won't bother us," he assured you, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Besides, we're grown adults, aren't we?"

With a wicked grin, Caleb shifted his weight, pressing his thigh between your legs to part them further. His hand slid higher, fingers dipping beneath the lace of your lingerie to tease your slick folds. "I miss you when I'm away, mèimei..." He felt up your core with almost reverence, "I miss you when I'm at Aerospace, no one there feels like you, pipsqueak..."

Caleb's words sent a thrill through you, mixing with the sensations of his touch. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his palm as he stroked your sensitive flesh. "Mmm, gēgē…" You breathed out, a moan caught in your throat.

At your breathy moan his hand faltered, "Shit, pipsqueak, I missed you calling me that..." Caleb's thumb circled your clit in slow, deliberate strokes as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening with lust. "I've missed everything about you, mèimei," he admitted, his voice rough with desire. "Nothing can compare to the taste of you. No girl could ever see."

With that, he captured your mouth in another passionate kiss, swallowing your gasp as his fingers dipped inside you, feeling your wetness coat his fingers. Caleb broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping at your earlobe as he began to pump his fingers slowly in and out of your tight heat. "Stay quiet, huh? Wouldn't want Gran to be curious about the noises in your room."

Caleb's words sent a shiver down your spine, his touch igniting a fire within you. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape as he fingered you. His pace quickened, thrusting deeper with each stroke, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl.

As he pumped in and out, his thumb kept up its relentless circling of your clit, driving you closer to the edge. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more friction, more pressure. Caleb's lips found yours again, kissing you fiercely as he felt your walls clench around his fingers.

Suddenly, he withdrew his hand, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you to your knees, yanking your skirt up around your waist. "Don't move, mèimei."

"Caleb..." You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance. With a smooth, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself inside you, filling you completely. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, hands fisting the carpet underneath, your body adjusting to accommodate his size. Caleb paused momentarily, savouring the feeling of being buried to the hilt within your warmth.

"Shh, let me show you how much I've missed you," Caleb whispered, as he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside, before slamming back in. Over and over, he pistoned into you, each thrust sending you crashing against the carpet. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged breathing and moans of pleasure.

Caleb's rhythm grew more urgent, driven by the intoxicating sensation of your tight, wet heat enveloping him. Each powerful thrust rocked your body, the force sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"You're mine, mèimei," he growled, his voice strained with effort and desire. "Only mine." His words were punctuated by the smack of flesh against flesh, the room echoing with the primal sounds of their coupling.

He grabbed your phone from where it had fallen, unlocking it to open the chat with Alex, to which you hadn't replied anything. He pressed the voice message button, holding your phone close to your lips, as he resumed driving deep inside your warm, willing cunt.

Caleb's breath came in short pants as he fucked you harder, the phone's mic capturing your muffled cries of ecstasy. He grinned, knowing Alex would hear every detail of your pleasure, and perhaps be left wondering why his messages went unanswered.

"Tell him how good it feels, mèimei," Caleb urged, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. "Let him know how well you get fucked." His hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt, stretching you deliciously around his thick length.

"Ah- Gēgē-" You cried, eyes rolled back as intense pleasure crashed over you, your body tensing up in preparation for release. Caleb's words, the obscene act of recording your moans, only heightened your arousal, pushing you closer to the brink.

With a final, brutal push, Caleb slammed into you, grinding against your cervix as he erupted inside you. His release flooded your depths, triggering your own orgasm. You convulsed around him, your inner muscles milking his cock as wave after wave of bliss washed over you.

Caleb sat up, panting heavily, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he listened to the audio file play back. Your muffled moans and cries of pleasure filled the small room, accompanied by the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, still catching his breath. "There, problem solved," he said, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice. "Alex won't be bothering you anymore. Now come here, pipsqueak, let me take care of you."

Caleb helped you to your feet, steadying you as your shaky legs struggled to support your weight. He guided you to the bed, pulling you down beside him and wrapping his arms around your trembling form. "Shh, it's okay, mèimei," he soothed, nuzzling your neck as he held you close, rubbing the carpet burn forming on your knee. "You did great, didn't you?"

His words were laced with pride and affection, a stark contrast to the dominant, possessive tone he'd used during their heated encounter. In this moment, he was the caring, protective brother you both knew him to be. Caleb's gentle caresses and soothing presence slowly calmed your racing heart, easing the aftershocks of your intense climax.

You leaned into Caleb's embrace, feeling a mix of relief and post-coital contentment wash over you. His gentle touches and soothing words helped calm your racing heart, and you couldn't help but smile up at him.

"Mmm, yeah… That was… Wow," you managed to say, still catching your breath. Caleb chuckled, a low, pleased rumble that vibrated through you.

The following day, as you sat in the passenger seat of Caleb's car, you felt a strange mixture of excitement and nerves. The Academy loomed ahead, its stone walls and spires casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Caleb had insisted on accompanying you, much to after an argument with Gran.

Alex had blown up your phone since the audio, sending message after message, apparently, according to him, you were with some older guy you fucked to get him off your back. Which is exactly why you did it. The other was that you faked it, but the way your core was still tingling made you laugh at the thought.

"Do you have to drive me now?" You asked, seated beside him as he held your thigh, driving with one hand, "I can handle Alex on my own..."

"Nonesense, pipsqueak, I wanna see my competition." Caleb smirked at you, hand dipping between your thighs before you pushed it away.

"Watch the roads." You held his hand, pulling it away from your dress skirt, "And Alex is no competition..."

Caleb winked at you, his fingers trailing lightly up your inner thigh once more before he reluctantly withdrew his hand to focus on the road. "Aww, but where's the fun in that?" he teased, his tone playful rather than suggestive.

As you approached the Academy gates, Caleb slowed the car to a stop. He turned to you, his expression turning serious. "Listen, mèimei... I can't bear the thought of you dealing with Alex on your own. Not when you have someone who cares about you."

He reached out, cupping your cheek gently. "Promise me you'll always tell me if anyone makes you uncomfortable or tries to cross boundaries, okay? I'll always be here to protect you, whether it's from a jerk like Alex or anything else life throws our way."

"Of course I will, you're Caleb, you'll always be there for me." You smiled, repeating what he used to say to you as you stepped out of his car, sighing, a frown colouring your lips as you saw Alex was watching you.

Caleb noticed your gaze drifting to Alex and followed it, his posture stiffening slightly. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as they walked together towards the Academy entrance. "Ugh, him? He's not even hot."

At Caleb's words, you burst out laughing, uncaring as Alex approached you, his face said he'd heard the audio Caleb sent him. As Alex opened his mouth to speak, Caleb beat him to it, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, hey Alex. What brings you here today? Just wanted to ogle my sister some more?"

"Gēgē be nice." You said playfully, though you wouldn't stop him from saying anything to the boy.

"Wait... He's the-" Alex looked between you and Caleb, as if realising he was the guy you had been fucking last night, "You-?"

"If you ever even talk to my sister again, I will fuck you up, do you understand?" Caleb asked, voice dangerous, cutting him off, not giving him any chance. "Now fuck off." He turned to you, suddenly smiling, "I'll pick you up later, aright, pipsqueak?"

"Yeah yeah, go. You aren't allowed inside." You blushed at the tone he threatened Alex, playfully hitting him with your bag, "You aren't allowed inside."

Caleb chuckled, ruffling your hair before heading back to his car. As he drove away, he glanced at the rearview mirror, a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew he'd effectively put Alex in his place and ensured your safety.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #lnds #caleb lads #caleb xia #xia yizhou #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lnds #caleb smut #lads #lads smut

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cami040405 · 2 days ago

Note

Vincent Sinclair courting headcannons but the reader does not know asl and tries to, but it’s very hard for her to be interested in it? Maybe they text each other? You can choose the genre

Vincent Sinclair Courting Headcannons

Summary: Vincent Sinclair quietly courts you, you struggle to learn ASL despite wanting to communicate with him. Though frustrated by your slow progress, you continues to try, and you rely on texts, sketches, and small gestures to connect.

A/N: I loved writing this request, imagining how Vincent Sinclair would communicate with the reader. I found this approach interesting because in my story, Between Art And Silence, Vincent speaks. If you want to check it out, the link is in the text.

When Vincent first starts to court you, he tries to communicate mostly through body language and gestures — soft touches on the arm, a hand held out to guide you somewhere, or leaving little sketches for you to find.

He doesn’t expect you to know ASL at all — in fact, he seems almost guilty or hesitant to use it in front of you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Bo teases him, of course: “Tryin’ to woo someone who can’t even read your love notes, huh?” But Vincent shrugs it off, used to being misunderstood — until you try.

You suggest texting. Vincent doesn’t like technology much, but for you? He adapts.

He keeps his old, beat-up phone charged just so you two can have late-night text conversations. He’s not wordy, but his messages are always careful and intentional.

“Did you eat today?”“You looked sad. Want me to sit with you?”“The stars are out. Thought of you.”

You try. You really do. But ASL doesn’t come naturally to you — the grammar feels strange, and your hands just don’t move the way you want them to.

Sometimes you mess up signs badly enough that he chuckles silently and gently corrects you, guiding your hands with his own, warm fingers. It’s frustrating — not because he’s impatient (he never is), but because you want to understand him better. Still, it’s hard to stay interested when your brain just doesn’t click with it.

Vincent notices right away. He sees the tension in your shoulders, the way your eyes dart away in embarrassment after a failed attempt. He never pressures you. Instead, he starts drawing more — sketching out how he feels, what he wants to say, or what he notices about you. You have an entire drawer full of little drawings he’s made just for you.

Sometimes he’ll use one hand to sign something simple and the other to type it on his phone — a hybrid method that eases the burden for you.

Vincent expresses love in actions: brushing your hair behind your ear, fixing a squeaky cabinet in your room without asking, leaving your favorite tea beside your bed. He sometimes signs I love you slowly, just so you’ll recognize it. Even if you can't respond in ASL, you always press his hand to your cheek, showing that you know. One night, you sign something almost right — “You’re beautiful,” maybe — and he just stares at you like you hung the moon, his face flushing under his mask.

You might not become fluent in ASL, and that’s okay. Vincent never wanted perfection from you. He just wanted your effort — and you gave him your heart, one crooked sign and midnight text at a time.

You sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, a pit growing quietly in your stomach as you stared at the screen.

Your latest attempt at learning ASL had ended with a migraine and three nearly-broken fingers from accidentally jamming them trying to mimic a video. The app had long been closed. You were done for the night.

The silence in Ambrose was heavy, as always, broken only by the low hum of the cooling fan in Vincent’s workshop down the hall. He had texted you an hour ago:

“Working. Come by when you’re tired. Want you near.”

You had smiled when you saw it. He rarely typed that much.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment. It had been weeks, and you could barely manage the alphabet. Meanwhile, Vincent was patient — too patient — like he knew you’d give up eventually and was already forgiving you for it.

A soft knock on your door.

Not Bo. Too gentle.

You opened it to find Vincent, mask reflecting the faint glow of the hallway light, tall and silent. He held a sketchpad in one hand and his phone in the other. He tilted his head.

“Hi,” you whispered.

He nodded once, then tapped on his phone.

“Can I come in?”

You stepped aside and let him in. He smelled faintly of wax and pine, and the sleeves of his long shirt were pushed up, revealing pale arms marred with old scars and dried streaks of charcoal.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged like always, and you joined him.

You watched his hands carefully as he began to sign something — slow, deliberate. You caught maybe one word. “You…”

“Wait.” You reached for your phone and typed:

“I don’t know what you said. I’m sorry.”

He read it, then looked at you. There was no disappointment in his eyes, no hint of judgment — only that quiet depth he always carried, something heavy and old and kind.

He pulled his sketchpad into his lap and flipped it open.

The drawing was simple — the two of you sitting together, knees touching, your head leaned gently on his shoulder. Your face was wrong — lopsided, eyes too big — but you recognized the moment. It had been three days ago. He’d remembered.

You blinked back the sting in your eyes.

“I’m trying,” you whispered. “I just… it’s hard.”

He nodded. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands and signed something else.

You didn’t get it. Not all of it. Maybe “feel” or “you”. Something about safe. But you couldn’t be sure.

Your hands lifted without thinking. You fumbled to shape a sign you’d practiced — badly — one you hoped you wouldn’t screw up again.

You signed “beautiful”, aiming it toward him.

Vincent froze.

Not like he was offended. More like… stunned. Like he didn’t understand the word could ever apply to him.

He reached slowly and took your hand — large, warm fingers wrapping around yours, guiding them, correcting the shape gently.

You laughed nervously. “I messed it up, didn’t I?”

He shook his head. Then, he signed again — slowly, so you could follow.

“I love you.”

Three motions. You’d seen them before, sure, but never directed at you. Not like this. Not from him.

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t know how to sign it back.

So instead, you leaned forward and pressed his hand to your cheek, closing your eyes.

He held still.

He didn’t pull away.

And in the silence that followed, in the soft weight of his fingers against your skin, you realized that love wasn’t always spoken — not in words, or even in perfect signs.

Sometimes, it was drawn.

Sometimes, it was typed out awkwardly at midnight.

And sometimes, it was felt in the gentle way someone stayed, even when you didn’t know how to say “I love you” the right way.

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alltimecharlo · 2 days ago

Note

domestic will and mack raising a kid together?? i have such girl dad vibes from them

cute cute cute!!! could be considered as the same parents au i wrote for them before with a daughter :) fic under the cut!🩵

Mack is still grinning when he skates off the ice, sweat-streaked and flushed with the buzz of a win. The Sharks pulled it off at home again, and SAP Center is still echoing with cheers, fans pressed against the glass and holding up homemade signs and jerseys. He high-fives a few teammates, knocks his glove against Will’s as they head toward the tunnel. Will, as always, is smiling at him like he hung the moon.

“Good game, Cap,” Will chirps, nudging into him with the shoulder that scored their third goal. “Not bad for an old man.”

Mack snorts. “Says the guy who got danced in the second.”

Will grins, entirely unbothered. “Still got the assist though.”

Their chirping continues as they make their way down the tunnel, but Mack’s already thinking ahead. Past the showers and the press and the debrief, to the moment he’s really waiting for.

He’s out of his gear as fast as physically possible without drawing suspicion, hair still damp as he pulls on a hoodie and joggers. Will’s the same, hair sticking up in tufts as they make their way out of the locker room. They’ve got a system down by now—media stuff sorted, win bonuses logged, Cat already texted to say she’s waiting at their usual gate.

And there she is.

Cat’s crouched next to the stroller but it’s empty, their little girl already up and bouncing on her toes in a Sharks jersey way too big for her, blonde hair pulled into lopsided pigtails. She lights up like the scoreboard when she sees them.

“Daddy! Dada!”

Mack’s chest swells. There’s nothing—nothing—like the sound of her voice calling for them after a win.

Will’s already jogging forward to scoop her up, lifting her high and spinning her once, both of them giggling. Mack gets there a second later, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she flings one arm around Will and the other toward him, like she can’t pick who she wants more.

“We win?” she asks, wide-eyed.

“Of course we did, baby,” Mack says, pressing his forehead to hers. “We always do when you’re in the crowd.”

“I cheered really loud,” she declares. “Like this! GO SHARKS!”

Cat chuckles behind them, looking like the proud nominated auntie she is. “She was on her feet the whole third period. Nearly scared the guy next to us half to death with that last goal.”

“Good girl,” Will tells her, and she beams like he just told her she’s captain of the team.

They walk together through the halls, Cat catching them up on what she missed during the game—one of the players tripping over a stick, the crowd starting a wave, their daughter nearly launching her foam finger at the ice. Mack holds her on his hip while Will grabs their gear bag, her tiny hand fisted in the front of Mack’s hoodie.

“I want pancakes,” she announces, completely out of nowhere.

Will snorts. “It’s nine p.m.”

She frowns. “But we won.”

“She’s got a point,” Mack says, already envisioning the sleepy pancake party back home, their daughter still in her jersey, syrup smeared across her cheeks. “Victory pancakes.”

Will looks at him, something soft in his expression. He reaches out, brushing his fingers lightly along the back of Mack’s hand. “You spoil her.”

Mack leans in, presses a kiss to Will’s temple. “Wouldn’t you?”

Will glances at their daughter, now halfway asleep on Mack’s shoulder, and nods. “Every single day.”

And they do. Every single day. Because she’s theirs. And they’re hers. And there’s nothing better than coming home to the two best things that have ever happened to him—one with syrup fingers, the other with a goal and a grin that still makes Mack feel eighteen again.

♡

#awhhhh #:’)#willmack prompts #willmack #will smith hockey #macklin celebrini #mackwill #wacklin #hockey hrpf #hrpf fic #hrpf #hockey fic #san jose sharks

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thirteenheavens · 7 hours ago

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hi icon! could you pleasepleasepleaseplease do a part 2 for NDA (i hope noone has asked you yet i dont wanna be annoying 😭😭)

NDA Part Two || Song Mingi x Reader

Notes: damn you guys wanted this one badly as well hehe you ask and I deliver hope you guys enjoy!!

Word counts: 2.5k+

Part 1

"No, Mingi. I can't do this anymore," you snap, moving away from him. "I deserve better than to be hidden away and paid for my silence. You may have money, but I have my dignity."

He flinches at your words, but continues to try and reason with you. "I didn't mean for things to get this complicated. I care about you, and I'll make it up to you. Just stay and talk to me." You shake your head, grabbing your purse and heading for the door. "There's nothing left to talk about. This was a mistake from the beginning."

As you walk out, Mingi calls after you one last time. "Y/N, wait! Please!" But you don't look back, letting the door close behind you with a finality that echoes through the hallway. Day after day, Mingi's texts and calls flood your phone. Each notification a reminder of the affair you shared and the emotional turmoil it caused.

"I can't stop thinking about you," "Please, just give me another chance," "I'll do anything to make things right." His words become increasingly desperate and needy. You ignore every message, deleting them without reading. The pain of your brother's anger and Mingi's betrayal still fresh in your mind. Weeks pass and the constant stream of notifications begins to slow down, though he never completely gives up. Each time you think about blocking his number, memories of his touch and whispered promises resurface.

Then the gifts start coming.The gifts become more extravagant with each passing day - designer clothes, jewelry, expensive chocolates, and more. They're delivered with the same message: "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." The flowers arrive daily, each bouquet more grand than the last. "Thinking of you," "Missing your smile," "I love you." His words haunt you, making it harder to resist the pull of his affections.

You know you should tell him to stop, but something keeps stopping you. A small part of you still feels drawn to him despite everything that happened. The gifts and messages continue relentlessly, slowly chipping away at your resolve to stay away from him.

The sound of rain pelting against your window is interrupted by frantic knocking on your door. You hesitate, knowing exactly who it is. But the desperate pleading and sobbing coming from the other side breaks your heart, and you find yourself opening the door to see Mingi completely drenched and shaking.

"Please... please let me in," he begs through his tears. "I can't take it anymore. I need to see you, to talk to you." His clothes are soaked through, clinging to his body as he stands there looking completely broken. The sight tugs at your heartstrings, and you step aside, allowing him to enter.

"Mingi, you shouldn't be here," you say softly, wrapping a towel around his shoulders. "You need to go home and get dry." He shakes his head, gripping the towel tightly. "No, I can't leave until we talk. I've tried everything else, but I can't stop thinking about you. Please, just listen to me." His eyes are red and puffy from crying, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. "I made a mistake with the NDA," he confesses. "I never meant to hurt you or make you feel like a secret. You mean so much more to me than that."

"I know I messed up," Mingi continues, his voice cracking with emotion. "But being without you these past weeks has been torture. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't function without you." He takes a step closer, reaching out to touch your face. "I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you - your smile, your strength, your loyalty. I don't care about the scandal anymore, I just want to be with you openly." His wet clothes drip onto the floor as he stands before you, vulnerable and exposed. "Please give me another chance. I'll do anything to prove how much you mean to me."

"Mingi, I..." you start, your heart torn between your feelings and the pain he caused. "I can't just forget everything that happened. The lies, the secrets, the NDA..." He drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with desperate eyes. "I know, I know. And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just please, please tell me you still have feelings for me." His hands grip your waist tightly, as if afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. The rain continues pouring outside, creating a fitting backdrop for this emotional scene.

"I do still have feelings for you," you admit softly, running your fingers through his wet hair. "But that doesn't mean I trust you completely." Mingi nods, understanding in his eyes. "I'll earn your trust back. I'll show you every day that you can trust me with your heart." He rests his forehead against your stomach, his voice muffled against your clothes. "Just give me one more chance. One more chance to love you properly."

"Please let me kiss you," Mingi whispers, looking up at you with raw vulnerability. "Just once. Just to remind myself what it feels like to be close to you." His hands slide up your sides, resting gently on your hips as he waits for your response. The tension between you is palpable, the rain outside providing a rhythmic background to the moment. You hesitate for a moment longer, but something in his expression - the longing, the desperation, the genuine love - breaks down your defenses.

"Just one kiss," you whisper back, giving him permission with a slight nod. "And then we're talking about boundaries." Mingi stands up slowly, his hands still on your waist as he leans in. His lips brush against yours softly at first, almost hesitantly, as if afraid you'll change your mind. But once the kiss starts, it deepens quickly. The pent-up emotions from weeks apart explode between you, and Mingi pulls you closer against him, his hands gripping your back possessively.

The kiss becomes more passionate, fueled by months of suppressed desire and longing. Mingi's hands roam your body hungrily, reacquainting themselves with every curve. He pushes you against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours as he devours your mouth with years of pent-up need. The rain outside creates a symphony of background noise to your passionate reunion.

"God, I've missed this," he murmurs against your lips, one hand sliding down to cup your thigh. "I've missed you." You respond by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as the kiss grows more heated. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you up effortlessly.

The feeling of his body against yours is overwhelming, making you remember why you fell for him in the first place. Despite everything that happened, the chemistry between you is still electric. Mingi breaks the kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. "I need you," he whispers against your skin, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please tell me you need me too."

"I do need you," you breathe out, tangling your fingers in his wet hair. "But we can't just pretend the past few weeks didn't happen." Mingi freezes at your words, his forehead pressed against your shoulder. "I know," he admits quietly. "But right now, all I want is to be with you. To feel you, to hold you, to make love to you."

His hands continue roaming your body, but with more tenderness now. "Let me show you how much you mean to me," he pleads softly. "Please." Mingi follows your gaze to the bedroom door, then looks back at you with a mix of hope and desire. Without another word, he carries you towards the bedroom, his strong arms supporting your weight.

Once inside, he sets you down gently on the bed and starts unbuttoning his wet shirt. "I need to get these clothes off," he says, his fingers trembling slightly. "They're soaked through." The sight of him undressing in front of you stirs something deep within you, and you watch as his muscular chest is revealed inch by inch.

"You're beautiful," you whisper, reaching out to help him remove his shirt. Your hands trace over his defined abs, the contact sending sparks through your fingertips. Mingi shivers at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. "No, you're the beautiful one," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you again.

His bare skin presses against yours as he climbs onto the bed, his weight comforting and familiar. The rain continues outside, but inside this room, there's only heat and desire building between you. Mingi's lips move down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the exposed skin of your chest. His hands push your clothes up, revealing more of your skin to his hungry touch.

"I've dreamed about this every night," he confesses between kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "About touching you, tasting you, making you mine again." His fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, sliding it off your shoulders. "You're perfect," he breathes out, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of your bare skin.

His lips follow the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your chest and stomach. "I want to worship every inch of you," he whispers against your skin. Mingi slowly strips you bare, his hands trembling slightly as he reveals your body. The heat in his gaze intensifies with each article of clothing that falls away.

"God, you're even more beautiful than I remembered," he says reverently, his fingers tracing patterns over your exposed skin. "I've missed every part of you." His lips follow his fingers, leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he positions himself between your legs. "Let me taste you," he murmurs, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Mingi spreads your legs wider, his tongue tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. Your body responds instantly to his touch, already aching with need.

"You're already so wet for me," he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your core. "So ready." Without warning, he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue delving deep into your folds. The feeling is overwhelming, making you arch up against his mouth as pleasure courses through your body.

"Mingi... oh god," you moan, threading your fingers through his hair as he devours you. His tongue works expertly, flicking over your clit in just the way he knows drives you wild. He groans against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers through your entire body. "I could stay here forever," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "Tasting you, feeling you come undone."

His pace increases, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips rock against his face, desperate for more friction. Mingi senses you getting close, his tongue moving faster and more insistently against your clit. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you in place, determined to make you fall apart.

"Come for me," he commands huskily, looking up at you with dark eyes. "Let go, Y/N. I want to feel you come on my tongue." The pressure builds inside you until it becomes too much, and with a loud cry, you shatter completely. Your body convulses against his mouth as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. Mingi guides you through your orgasm, prolonging it with gentle licks and kisses. When your body finally stops shaking, he crawls up your body, his eyes full of love and desire.

"You're amazing," he whispers, capturing your lips in a deep kiss so you can taste yourself on his tongue. "I've missed making you feel like that." His hard length presses against your thigh, reminding you that he's still half dressed. "Now it's my turn to feel good," he says with a smirk, reaching for his belt buckle. Mingi quickly removes his pants and boxers, revealing his thick, throbbing cock. He settles between your legs again, his bare skin pressing against yours.

"I need to be inside you," he growls against your ear, positioning himself at your entrance. "Need to feel you surrounding me." Without waiting for a response, he thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sensation makes you gasp, and you cling to his shoulders as he starts moving.

"You're so tight," he groans, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. "So perfect." Mingi sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your shared moans and whimpers.

"Fuck, I've missed this," he pants out, burying his face in your neck. "Missed feeling you tighten around me like this." He hits that perfect spot deep inside you, making stars explode behind your eyelids. His movements become more erratic as he nears his release, his control slipping.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into his back. "Fuck me harder, Mingi." He groans at your words, his pace becoming almost brutal as he obeys your command. "You're so demanding," he manages to say through gritted teeth, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit.

"But I love it. I love how greedy you get for me." His thrusts become more forceful, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet slapping of skin as Mingi pounds into you relentlessly. His fingers work magic on your clit, driving you closer and closer to another orgasm.

"I'm close," he warns, his voice strained. "Come with me, baby. Come with me again." He angles his hips to hit your g-spot perfectly, and the added stimulation is too much for you to handle. Your walls flutter around him as you scream his name, your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

Mingi follows right behind you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep inside you. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Mingi nuzzles into your neck, still buried inside you as you both come down from your high. His heartbeat thunders against your chest, gradually slowing back to a normal pace.

"That was... incredible," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your jawline. "Better than I remembered." He shifts slightly to look at you, his expression soft and vulnerable. "I love you, Y/N. I'll never stop loving you."

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin as he holds you close, as if afraid this moment might end and take you away again. Mingi pulls back slightly, looking at you with serious eyes. "No more NDA," he says firmly. "No more secrets. I'm done hiding us from the world."

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "I want everyone to know you're mine. I want to take you out, hold your hand, kiss you in public. All of it." His gaze is intense, filled with determination and love. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. You're worth it, Y/N. You're worth fighting for."

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brandwhorestarscream · 3 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/brandwhorestarscream/764977700747231232/part-4-can-we-get-a-part-4-holy-fuck-i-love

Part five?

HI it's been six months! Um. I'm sorry. I got busy, and then depressed, and people died, and no one cares we just want pregnant robots lmao. Here's parts one, two, three, and four.

This is where we reeeaaally start deviating from the movie, but, well. You guys voted for it, so you can't be mad!

When D-16's optics blink open again, the first thing he notices is how bad he doesn't feel. He gives a sleepy sigh of relief, and snuggles closer to the warm body beneath him. Finally, finally, the nausea has gone. His belly isn't cramping and throbbing anymore. It's definitely still a bit sore, but nowhere near as bad as before. Orion has one servo braced on his abdomen, thumb rubbing against the expanse in gentle, lazy strokes.

Dee looks up. “You're awake?”

Orion gives him that silly, lopsided smile that he loves so much. “Yeah… y'know, you talk in your sleep?”

“Wha-” he whacks one hand into his chassis. “I do not!”

“You do!” Orion crows, looking delighted. “You mumble while you dream, and-”

“Paaax!” he protests, covering his face with one servo. “No I don't!”

“It's cute!” Orion insists with an impish snicker, darting down to peck his forehelm. “You're cute when you're asleep. And when you're flustered-”

Dee whacks him again. “You're the worst!”

“Aww, come on! You love meee!”

Hiding his face against his chassis, Dee allows himself a gooey smile. Primus, but he does. “Yeah…” he whispers, closing his optics again to listen to the soothing pulse of Orion's spark. He can hear it, distantly, and feel it too, gently thrumming beneath his cheek. Peace sweeps through him, and he pressed a tender, absent-minded kiss to the red plating beneath his face. “I do.”

Orion's vocalizer makes a soft creaky noise, and Dee looks up at him questioningly. “...what?”

“I just-!” He looks giddy, and breathless. “I just really like hearing you say that!”

They share a laugh, and settle into a comfortable quiet again. They murmur back and forth to each other, occasionally, but for the most part they lie there and lazily cling to each other in sleepy contentment. Nearly half a megacycle passes before D-16 heaves a sigh.

“...we should probably go back.”

“Yeah,” Orion grunts and slowly starts to push them up, taking great care to steady his partner and ensure his stability. He climbs up to his pedes, helping D-16 up, before he blows out a tense breath, and says, “Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

They make their way back to the main cavern hand in hand, where Alpha Trion is telling some sort of story to Elita and B-127.

“-cracked beneath her great Forge, and when the land split, geysers of molten metal sprung forth. It rushed across the land, and- oh?” The old mech gives them a warm smile as they return, and beckons them further. “Do you feel well again, little one?”

“...better, anyway,” Dee is looking anywhere but at him. His whole face feels hot, having to think about what they just did. “You were, um. Right. You were right. I- I did need- I mean-”

He makes an embarrassed noise and claps both servos over his face. Alpha Trion chuckles good naturedly.

“Good…” he nods. “Good. Come here.”

They draw nearer, and Bee eagerly pats the ground next to him. He's sitting cross legged for the story, while Elita is perched on a nearby rock with her elbows on her knees. She immediately jumps up to offer D-16 her spot, backing up to let Orion help him sit down. “I'm fine, I've got it!” he tries to shoo the other off, but Orion is insistent. Just in case.

Once they're all settled, Alpha Trion's face takes on a sad quality. “Children… your transformation cogs,” they'd yet to have the chance to address it. He looks directly at D-16 as he continues. “You are in grave danger without it.”

Dee feels his spark stutter fearfully. Oh, what now?!

The old mech goes on to explain: without a cog, he will not be able to bear his sparkling. His gestation tank won't be able to shift into the proper position, and his valve won't be able to open. He'd have to deliver via cesarean, and if they didn't have a capable surgeon at the time, it could quickly turn fatal.

The news hits D-16 like a striking meteor. His optics grow wider than they ever have, and he can feel his core temperature dropping as the realization sets in. “What?!” the exclamation comes out strangled. He didn't know that! He- He still hasn't decided, hasn't had time to decide, b-but if he can't have this sparkling without having to be cut open, then-!

“Woah woah, wait, what?!” Orion is immediately there with a protective hand on his shoulder. “Why didn't you say something earlier?!”

“How long til he delivers?” Elita demands next. “We- We can get him back in time! Dr. Ratchet, he knows how to do surgery, right? He can do it-”

Alpha Trion shakes his helm gravely. “Peace, little ones, and listen,” his expression grows discontent as his gaze sweeps over them, lingering on the empty holes in their chests. “No child of Primus is born without a cog. Our Holy Mother creates each of us alike-”

“We were born like this!” Dee snarls, both servos clamped onto the side of his helm in stress. “This hole's been empty since the day I came online!”

Alpha's face slides from a frown to an angry grimace. “You were not born this way. Your transformation cogs, they were taken from you.”

B-127 gasps. “No! N-No way, no one could- no one is that evil-!”

The miserable truth sends them all spiralling into further despair.

“...I'm gonna die,” D-16 whispers in horror, lips trembling as he looks up at Orion with hollow, horrified optics. “I- I'm gonna die- I'm gonna die-! W-We're both gonna die-!”

“How could he?! Before we were even alive!”

“How long, h-how long- it's been 4- no, 5- 6? How long have we been out here, how much time do we have-”

“Children!” Alpha Trion's voice booms throughout the cavern, and they all snap to attention. Staring up at him with tearful, sparkbroken, terrified optics. “Calm yourselves. I will remedy this.”

He raises his arms, and once again, the wind billows in from nowhere. The magic sands of knowledge raise and swirl at his command. The four younglings scoot closer together, unsure of what to expect: another vision? Another Prime from beyond the grave? What is he-?

“PRIMA!” He calls. “MICRONUS!” His sands rush over their bodies, gently caressing his fallen siblings. They bear him no resentment for taking that which they can no longer use, delicately plucking their long-dormant cogs from their chests. “ALCHEMIST! ONYX!”

“Hear me, children. It is not your cogs that make you cybertronians, but your sparks. So long as they pulse and guide you onward, the future is yours to sculpt and pursue. I grant you these as I see noble character in all of you, just as I saw in my siblings. Take these, make use of them, and we will change the world as one. They are one, you are one… all are one.”

The surge of energy as the t-cog enters his body is unlike anything D-16 has ever felt before. It blazes bright and hot in his chest, electricity thrumming through him with all the force of a sonic boom. It rattles his teeth and he gasps as his whole body moves. It stretches, it shifts, plates folding outwards to expand in ways he never imagined. He's lifted off the ground, weightless before the God of Knowledge's powerful gift, and as his body transforms he begins to feel lighter. So much lighter. So many internal components and pieces of himself that had been packed away, tucked tightly and folded in on themselves. Miners were stocky and small, able to wiggle through small spaces and able to take quite a bit of punishment considering how much weight they had in their tiny frames. He feels his gyros spinning, feels pieces rotating and clicking into place, feels his entire being upgraded and reworked and rearranged, and when his pedes touch the ground again, he has never felt better.

“Woah…!” the word comes out riding on an audible breath of wonder, and he hesitantly pats at himself. Touching his chassis, his arms–they look shiny and new!

“Wait-!” Orion sounds strangled, his voice creeping higher and higher in a joyous, disbelieving crescendo. “W-We can- you gave us…?!”

“AHA! Look at this!” B-127 throws his arms into the air, smacking one hand into his chest. “I'm not empty anymore! Guys, guys, check it out! I'm not empty anymore!”

“This feels amazing!” Elita spins around, her arms outstretched, hopping from foot to foot to test her balance. A wide, unguarded smile stretches on her face. She's always been light on her feet, but now! Oh, Primus! She feels like she could do anything! Fight a predacon! Climb Mt. Helix! Run across the entirety of the hydrax plateaus! Anything! Everything!

Orion throws both arms around D-16 and squeezes him tight. “You're gonna be ok!” He cheers, grabbing his face in both hands and pressing a long kiss to his mouth, complete with a, “Mm-wah!” sound. “Oh, thank goodness, I was so worried- oh!” He whirls back toward Alpha Trion. “Thank you! Thank you! A hundred thousand times, thank you!”

“Oh yes! Thank you sir!”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou you are like, my hero!”

“Thank you so much!”

Their exuberant gratitude makes him smile. “You are very welcome, little ones. Now-”

A sudden explosion rocks the cavern, and all four of them yelp. Alpha Trion frowns and raises his helm. “Sentinel.”

“They found us?!” Bee yelps. “B-But how- what do we-”

“Come, quickly!” In one fluid movement the Prime has grabbed B-127 under the arm and D-16 in the other, rushing across the cavern to one of its many tunnels. “Children, come! Run!”

“Wha- hey!” Dee struggles as he's carted along, set on his feet in a corridor they've not explored yet. “What're you- why are we running?! We hafta fight back-”

“No,” he pushes Elita and Orion after him, all but mechhandling the three of them along. “You are with spark, my child. You should not be anywhere near active combat, and it will become combat if they reach us. Now run!”

The quartet obey him as one, turning to flee down the tunnel. There's weaponfire behind them, Alpha Trion collapsing the entrance so they cannot immediately be followed. Despite their head start, he catches up with and then surpasses them quickly, swift and powerful strides as he takes the lead. He seems to know the path, somehow, weaving into side-tunnels and ducking through darkened caverns. The sounds of their pursuers become duller, and eventually vanish all together. They don't stop though, not until natural light finally appears in the distance.

Before they step outside, Alpha Trion stops them. Listens intently, then nods and beckons them forward. Thick crystal foliage is carefully swept out of the way by their guardian, giving them a full look at the landscape.

“Oh…”

“My…”

“Allspark…!”

They thought they had seen everything that could take their breath away. They had passed through the singing crystalline swamps with its reflective, glass-like springs. They'd scaled mountains and seen the world from on high, glinting beautifully all the way to the horizon. They'd seen all manner of fanciful beasts, from the timid dipole-does to the accelotls that launched themselves at high velocity to catch prey. They'd seen the sunset stain the sea of rust such a vibrant orange it looked like an endless lake of fire. But this!

Before them stretches an enormous valley, a huge bowl carved into the land and surrounded by gleaming mountains. Tall, thin spires of bismuth jut into the sky, bigger and grander than any skyscraper, reflecting in rainbows carved of millions, billions of interlocking squares and cubes. In the center of the valley stretches the tallest peak of all, with what looked to be a glowing pink river flowing over the edge in two massive, parallel twin waterfalls that leave rainbows arching off of them in their billowing clouds of mist.

And that's not even the most impressive part!

Standing proudly at the central peak, even from so far away they can see it. A building, gleaming silver and gold like a beacon that was impossible to miss.

“Come,” Alpha Trion says. “We must hurry. They still pursue us.”

“Woah woah, wait a second! Are you crazy?!” Elita is frowning. “The quintessons are still out there and so are Sentinel's goons! There's no way they won't find us there!”

“They may,” he nods. “But they will not reach us within those walls.”

“How can you be so sure?!”

“Because,” here, he smiles a bittersweet, nostalgic smile. “It is my sister's temple.”

The descent up the slope is a lot easier than anticipated, on account of the spiral stairs carved into the mountain. They're crafted of the same rainbow metal, but it has somehow been smoothed out and cleared of any blemishes to make perfect symmetrical steps, leading all the way up. They're connected to a bridge that crosses behind the two waterfalls, and the cool mist feels wonderful on their sun-heated plating.

When they arrive at the temple, all four have their mouths hanging open. It's impossible not to, for the building is a work of art. Huge, chiselled quartz pillars frame the walk to the main door, holding up soaring ceilings, open air atriums, and pavillions. Carved of platinum, everywhere they look is gleaming and ethereal. The grand double doors are carved with countless glyphs of praise and prayer alike, and above them in a block of gilded gold even taller than they are, Solus Prime's sigil is displayed proudly.

“...is it really ok for us to…?”

“All are welcome to claim sanctuary in the Temples, little one,” he assures them. “My siblings and I leave our Houses open for all.”

He raises his servo and raps his knuckles against the doors thrice, and within only a few seconds they creak and open inwards. They're on hinges, actual hinges, and as they slowly reveal the interior, light and music pour forth from within.

“Ye-?”

There's a noise reminiscent of a squeaky toy being stomped on, and the tiniest bot they've ever seen drops to her knees in the doorway. She's a minicon, probably no more than 6 feet tall, with a dual pointed crest on her helm and big, round kibble mounted on either shoulder. On her chassis there is emblazoned the proud symbol of Solus. Both servos are tented over her nose and mouth, tears in her optics as she wheezes in disbelief, “L- Lord Alpha Trion…?!”

“Acolyte Pallas,” he nods in greeting. “May we come in?”

Her stunned gaze flits downwards from his face, and she finally notices the four younglings peeking out from behind him. Her optics pop wide, and she gasps. “Why have you brought CHILDREN out here?! Ohmystars, get inside! All of you, right now!” She darts out and whacks at Orion's ankles, making him stumble back in surprise. “Come on, move those pedes! Inside, where it's safe, now! Vite! Vite! Move it, younglings!”

They're practically marched inside at her behest, and only after the doors have closed and given off a soft blue glow does the stranger heave a sigh and set one servo on her chassis.

“Is anyone injured?” That's the first thing she asks. “When was the last time you've eaten? My Lord, w-welcome back, oh- JOYRIDE! Moonrise! Prepare an offering at once! Twister, run a hot bath! Dipole, bring energon, quickly!”

There's about half a dozen femmes of varying frametypes and alt modes milling around, though immediately running off to carry out her orders despite her diminutive size. No one argues, and they all look just as shocked by their arrival as she does.

The central foyer is beautiful, marble floor and more carved pillars, but everywhere you look there is art on display. Vases and pottery, paintings and murals, tapestries and sculptures, constructed of every medium and color imaginable. The ceiling soars high above them, so tall surely even Megatronus Prime could have strode through easily. The fine centerpiece of the grand entryway is an intimately made statue, carved of gold. Solus Prime's likeness is captured perfectly, down to the tiniest detail, her fingers and face crafted with devoted, loving hands that had likely spent decades or even centuries on their project. She looks gallant, and radiant, her holy Forge hefted high and proud upon her shoulder, face set in a gentle smile that could really only be described as ethereal. She's breathtaking.

“My Lady…?” At the statue's feet, there is an altar, before which the Acolyte has knelt. She's spread her arms out low and wide, face tilted back and parallel to the ceiling. “Your Holy Brother of Knowledge lives, and has come to your House safely. I thank you for this blessing, and swear unto you that I will aid him in whatever he requires. Blessed I am to bask in your presence, and blessed I am to serve you. Til all are one.” She clasps her servos and folds over onto herself, til her forehelm touches the floor. She holds the position for several seconds before rising, beckoning them closer with an insistent crook of her finger. “Come here, children. Where are your manners? Greet the Lady of this temple and thank her for her sanctuary.”

As it turns out, the Acolyte of Solus Prime is a stickler for rules and propriety. Only after they've said their thanks at her altar does she bring them further in. They're filthy after so long in the wilderness, both from the trip to the Grave of the Primes, and then the mad dash through the mountainous caverns. They're treated to a warm bath and fresh fuel, and afterwards?

“Yes, of course we will watch over him.” The minicon agrees immediately to Alpha Trion's request.

There was no time to waste. With the use of their new alt modes, the return trip to Iacon could be completed in only a few days. But…

“You can't just leave me here!” D-16 protests, both arms wrapping around his middle. “What about-?! What if I- what if it- I have to come! I wanna be there, I want to help!”

“Now slow your roll, sailor,” the minicon gives him a very stern look. “You're 7 decacycles into carrying. Look at you, your belly's already starting to show!”

“I- huh?!” He glances down at himself, patting and feeling–and sure enough, his abdomen has the slightest curve to it. He hadn't noticed, what with all the craziness of his form changing, and probably wouldn't have noticed for a while if she hadn't pointed it out. It's barely there, but as he sweeps his servos over it, he can detect the ever-so-slight curve. “Wha- so?”

“So you shouldn't be transforming!” she scolds him. “Don't they teach you kids anything? Honestly,” she mumbles several very un-godly curses beneath her breath, directed at who he can only assume is Sentinel. “Once your gestation tank's moved forward enough it's sticking out like that, you shouldn't be transforming at all if you can help it. It's bad for the sparkling, and it's bad for you.”

“And even if it weren't,” one of the priestesses speaks up. Ion, Dee thinks her name is. “They will likely face combat. The false Prime will try to stop them with force. Being struck even once in the wrong place can cause a miscarriage.”

D-16's optics get very wide, and he shares a frightened look with Orion. His dearest friend looks pained, and scared.

“...Dee,” he says, very softly. “I think-”

“No! No no no, not you too!” he despairs. “Don't you gang up on me too, Pax. I can't just sit here and do nothing!”

“Resting and keeping your sparkling safe is not nothing,” Pallas scolds him, hopping out of her chair and clambering onto the table they're all seated around. She marches over to look him in the optic, arms folded. “Now you listen here, youngling. So long as that baby spark is connected to yours, your only duty is to protect them. That is every parent's duty. Babies like you shouldn't be having babies–I swear, with my Lady as my witness, if I ever see that mech I will castrate him for putting his servos on you–but unless you opt to invoke our Lord Onyx Prime and surrender them, you are staying here. End of discussion.”

“But-!”

“End. Of. Discussion. Don't make us have to tranquilize you, kiddo. I'd rather not have to.”

The look on her face tells him that she isn't joking. The cranky old bat definitely seems the type to whip out tranq darts from nowhere, and none of her priestesses look even slightly amused by her threat. They all appear dead serious, as does Alpha Trion.

“...what about, th-the… um-” his cheeks start to tinge softly blue. He glances downwards, still palming his belly. He trusted Orion, he loved Orion. Having Orion donate transfluid to him was fine, but if he left, then- then he'd have to-!

“Woah, hey, Dee,” a warm servo descends onto his shoulder and startled him out of the panic he didn't even notice creeping up on him. Orion is suddenly right there, offering a warm embrace to melt into. Dee grabs onto him, feeling helpless and scared and miserable. “It's ok, ok? No one's gonna touch you, alright? I promise, I won't let ‘em.”

“We wouldn't dream of it,” Pallas agrees. “But we can provide the means to administer it yourself. We have the equipment for artificial donations, little one. You will not be assaulted or abused here.”

“Yeah, see?” Orion rubs his back. “It'll be ok, and hey, if you want, I'll leave you some of mine-”

Dee barks out a startled, half-choked laugh at that, and nearby, Elita snorts. “Oh, my-” he snickers over a wet sob. “Why are you like this?”

“Cuz I know it makes you laugh,” Orion drops a kiss onto the top of his helm, and Primus knows he really needs to laugh right now. “Listen, Dee. It'll be real quick, I promise. I'll be back here in half a decacycle, a full one, max! I promise, we'll come back for you the second it's safe.”

Feeling helpless, Dee's fingers curl tighter into the curves of Orion's armor, as if, maybe, if he just held on with a tight enough grip, they wouldn't be separated. Being left behind as a liability felt bad enough. Being left with a bunch of strangers was even worse. But having Orion leaving him and going off to do something dangerous felt worse than anything else. “You swear you'll come back?”

“Cross my spark. I swear to Primus Himself, I will come back.”

...

And... there we go! 3.7k words, not too shabby, methinks. Er... again, I'm sorry this took so long and it took me using a roundabout method to force my dumb brain to actually DO THINGS, but at least it finally worked! I swear to god, the next chapter will not take this long. Please give me your thoughts? A comment perhaps? Request the next piece and maybe I won't get paralzyed by fear this time. Lmao

#d-16 #orion pax #megop #dpax #what.... is their ship name aksjskaksk #brandwhore writes

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moriitis · 2 days ago

Text

A Beautiful Nightmare.

creeping out of writers block, this will be bad - click on image for song inspiration.

"Toby?"

There was a gentle knock, enough to fill the silence and the person behind the door hesitated before creeping inside the dimly lit room. The air was thick with tension, the smell of alcohol and it had become frightfully hot behind those closed doors. Lyra crept in, cautious and narrowing her eyes just enough to let them adjust to the darkness within the room around her. She could notice his figure, Toby, sat at his desk with his back turned to her. He was hunched over, the absent sound of pencil against paper as he scribbled away - his anger baring deep marks into the sheet below. Lyra could feel his anger radiating off him in heaps, each wave pushing her further away from the boy she once knew and her heart ached - ached for what could've been, what they deserved. There was so much she wanted to say, wanted to do, but how could she?

"Hey," her voice was soft, frail as she stepped in and closed the door behind her slowly with a gentle click. Lyra couldn't help but practically tiptoe across the carpeted room, eyes gentle and forgiving upon his frame that was trembling. Her own anger, pain and anguish was pushed aside; her only care being her younger brother. Approaching him within arms reach, gently her fingertips grazed the top of his shoulder and his trembling suddenly paused, the pencil in his hand stilling as his body froze at the touch. "It's just me," she reassured softly, craning her head around his frame to catch a glimpse of his face, but Toby only looked away.

What had happened tonight was the same as any night. A night of hurt, a night of longing for something that wasn't cursed words and careless slaps across the cheeks. The same drunk babbling about the government, about how Mom's cooking was awful, about how broke they were and how they were on the verge of losing the house. Fingers being pointed at one another, screams that filled the night and left a burning headache brewing in her mind. A night of trying to protect Mom, a night of trying to pull the weight of Dad off Toby. It was the same as any other night, a routine that was engrained in her mind, a part of her dreading the time ticking on to nine, when her Dad arrived home and seemed to split the family in two. They would be so much better off without him and Lyra knew it was an awful thing to think about.

Gently, her fingers gave a reassuring squeeze and it was there she leant forward to brush some brown locks away from Toby's face, letting her catch a glimpse of his pale skin. The deep bruise on his eye was unforgiving, a terrible yet beautiful mix of red and purple - it was deep and his eye began to swell. It hurt to look at and yet, she was thankful that he couldn't feel it. With a twist in her brow, she sighed.

"Are you okay?" and she knew as soon as she spoke those words - it was useless to ask such a question. Toby's silence made her grow a sense of worry, a motherly nature within her igniting a spark in the pits of her chest and it was there she chewed carelessly on the bottom of her red lip. She ached to hear his voice, for him to say something, hell, even if he shouted at her; she would understand it entirely. His absent minded scribbling began to continue and it was there Lyra finally glanced down at the piece of paper. Toby was always such an expressive artist, especially when he couldn't find the right words when he was so consumed in his own anger. Only, the paper was nothing but a mess of scribbles, words she couldn't make out in the mess of granite. "You gonna talk? Or should I just keep talking to myself?" It was an attempt at a gentle joke, teasing him and a smile etched at the corner of her lips, a smile that made the ache in her cheek bite back at her.

Before she could press further, Toby pulled his shoulder away from her grip and her heart broke. Had she done something? The blond wanted to speak but frankly, couldn't find the right words and she shifted from one leg to the other as she sucked in a steady sigh. Maybe he just needed time, maybe should just come back later? Only, as selfish as it sounded, all she wanted was his company right now and so Lyra settled on the bed beside his desk. It squeaked beneath her, the frame barely holding as the springs in the mattress promptly stabbed her soft skin. How could he sleep on this? It used to not feel this way before..

"I guess I'll talk to myself then.." she finally uttered, glancing around his room and leaning back on the palms of her hands. "You know what I'm really, reaaally craving right now?" she asked out into the void, no reply. Lyra pursed her lips and shrugged softly, accepting his stubbornness. "One of those really sugary slushies from the gas station, you know the one that makes your tongue really red," she grinned softly, hoping that this would at the very least encourage Toby to speak up but nothingness, once again. That unbearable silence loomed over the two of them again and she found herself shuffling uncomfortably, not because of the mattress beneath her, but because of the silence that had a deathly grip around her neck. Her gaze adverted from Toby to the door, it had grown quiet out there too. Perhaps finally their father had drunk himself to an early grave.

There, Lyra found herself taking the opportunity to admire her younger brother, the way he held himself, the way he looked. Something was different tonight though and Lyra could've sworn in a blink of an eye, he had grown bigger too. A part of her always found herself wondering what kind of man Toby would turn into, what he would study, the kind of woman, or man, he'd find himself falling in love with. Her heart ached with so much love. Gosh, she could still remember the night Toby was born.

"You know, I remember the night you were born," she smiled softly to herself, the memory becoming so distant, so faded.. Why? "I was still pretty young but I... I think I remember it well.." her brows furrowed and suddenly, a splitting pain erupted in her head, a pain that made her quickly grab her temple in an attempt to soothe it. She could see from the corner of her eye, Toby's sudden concern, though he still heistated to turn to her fully. His head tilted slightly in her direction, those brown eyes piercing from beneath the locks of his hair. It was the first time in a long time she felt he had actually noticed her. With a raised brow, she narrowed her gaze toward Toby. "Now look at you, with a stubble," she forced a smile, swallowing back the pain. "Hey, when did you grow a stubble..?"

Toby finally pulled away from the desk, the paper below him morphed into something, something so familliar that it struck Lyra in a wave of confusion. Their hatchet, coated in blood and it was there she could see his fingertips were red and stained.

"Toby?" she spoke, her voice in a slight tremble as he stood from the desk and finally turned to face her. The little boy before her now a grown man, looming over her frame and half of his face disfigured in a way that made her gasp. Her stomach churned, it churned as much as it could because now Lyra felt a part of herself was fading, like she wasn't supposed to even be here.

"You are not real," Toby's voice, once soft and gentle, now hard and Lyra felt her heart drop into the pits of her stomach. What did he mean by this? She was here, right here! On his bed, in his room - only now, she wasn't. In fact, she wasn't sure where she were anymore. This wasn't his bedroom, their home? Had she hit her head perhaps?

The girl blinked, trying to make sense of the situation and she felt the bottom of her lip wobble. Not real? She was not.. real? Lifting her hands up, she glanced at her palms, they were also red, some of her skin had been de-gloved and two of her fingers were twisted in a way that was not possible - broken. Lyra wanted to scream but she couldn't because now, she suddenly found herself gargling, like she were underwater and her lungs were filling. Despite it all, her mouth felt unbelievably dry and a metallic taste hugged her taste buds, blood seeping out from the corners of her mouth as she opened her mouth to let out empty screams, her hands and fingers wrapping around her neck in a desperate attempt to breathe, to get oxygen - air, anything!

"Stop that," Toby warned, unable to look at the scene before him as he grimaced away. He knew this wasn't Lyra, that she wasn't here and yet the pleading look in her dead eyes made him want to embrace her in nothing but a warm hug - in an attempt to save her from something that was already too late. "Stop that!" He was yelling now, fists curled as Lyra gasped for air and suddenly her once plump cheeks began to rot before him. The skin sinking in, hugging her bones and Lyra sunk down onto her knees, practically fitting before him. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, mind telling him to run, heart telling him to help. Only, what was he to do? She wasn't real, Lyra is dead. "You're fucking dead! You're not real! Get out, get the fuck out!" Toby was yelling incoherently, his fingers twitching to reach for the hatchet but instead grabbing fistfuls of his hair in a desperate attempt to drown out her endless gargling. The blood was everywhere, her blood was on the floor, on his shoes and it was flowing out of her mouth like a fountain that wouldn't stop.

The brunette suddenly lurched forward, wanting to grab his sister's shoulders and shake her back to what she was. Only, his hands phased through her very being and he collapsed onto his own knees, huffing and gasping for breath as he frantically began to blink the sleep away from his eyes.

The darkness of the room swallowed him whole and Toby laid motionless on the floor, feeling the hot warmth of his tears trickle down his cheeks. A nightmare, a fucking nightmare. His mouth was dry as he slowly sat up, glancing over to his bed on his right. He must've fallen out in the panic. His heart was pounding like a fucking drum and he took the moment to compose himself, cautiously looking around the room as if his sister were still lurking in the shadows. Though, he knew she were gone, six feet under, a rotting corpse that called his name from beyond the grave. A part of him wished he could forget, he was already forgetting what she sounded like and yet, he didn't want to let her go. With a shake in his hand, he brushed some hair out from his eyes and suddenly embraced himself, sobbing hopelessly into his arms. Why couldn't it have been him?

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby #toby rogers #lyra rogers creepypasta

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