#even though I love it and prefer it to the first one

[cheftsunoda]

Hi! Could you do a story where a single mom and her kid are put somewhere and the kid recognizes one of the drivers voices from their role in cars? The kid once they hear the voice they could go to the driver and ask for an autograph. Could it maybe have some social media in it. I just think it might be cute. Thank you.

movie star — lh44

smau + blurbs

lewis hamilton x!single mom reader

yn gets invited to the paddock by her brother who happens to work for the ferrari team. yn brings along her young child, ella, who happens to be a huge fan of all the cars movies. what happens when ella recognizes lewis’ voice just from his few set of lines?

fc : zaar goedemans

not proofread

(a/n) : i was inspired to write about lewis again im sorryyy. such a cute idea love :)

—

yourusername

autodromo enzo e dino ferrari di imola 📍

liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari, yourbff & 52,097 others.

yourusername : ella’s excellent knowledge of the cars franchise got us an exclusive tour from a very special racing legend;) thank you @/lewishamilton ❤️

tagged : yourbrother, yourbff & lewishamilton

—

yourbrother : didn’t even thank the one who brought you to the paddock in the first place…🥴

liked by yourusername

yourusername : thanks hoe

yourbrother : a “thank you so much. you are the best brother ever” would’ve been preferred.

liked by yourusername

yourusername : we can’t all have what we want now can we?

scuderiaferrari : The cutest little tifosi ❤️😁 You both are welcome back anytime!

liked by yourusername

yourusername : the biggest honor ❤️🫶🏻

yourbff : i walk away for two minutes and you are off with lewis fucking hamilton🤭 best weekend with you and my niece tho❤️

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : what can I say? the man is a smooth talker

liked by lewishamilton

charles_leclerc : Ella did not seem too impressed with me😭 It was so nice to meet you guys, hope she had the best time!

liked by yourusename

yourusername : great to meet you, charles! get yourself in a cars movie and she will love you:)

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername : if it helps I know @/yourbff was never excited to meet you

liked by charles_leclerc

yourbff : yn pls stop embarrassing me

liked by yourusername and charles_leclerc

lewishamilton : Definitely the first time I was ever recognized for my voice acting instead of my driving😁 Love to you both 🫶🏽

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63 : WAIT! is this the adorable little girl with the hot mum you were talking about??

liked by yourusername and lando

lewishamilton : that is the last time I ever tell you anything

username00 : who is this girl??

username8 : her brother is an engineer for Ferrari I believe

—

I don’t know what kind of spell my brother cast on me to agree to this, but somehow, I let him talk me into dragging my four and a half year old through a Formula 1 paddock.

“To be fair,” he said this morning as he handed me the guest passes, “it’s not every day your daughter gets to see real race cars up close. You’re the cool mom now.”

The “cool mom” is currently sweating through her sundress, trying to keep her child from launching herself into a garage.

Ella’s been buzzing since the second we walked in, practically vibrating with excitement. ���Mommy,” she whispers like it’s a big secret, “do you think there are Cars cars here?”

I bite back a laugh. “Sort of. These are real race cars. No eyes on the windshield, though.”

She seems skeptical but accepts the answer—until she hears a voice behind us.

“Yeah, we’ll be on track in fifteen. Let’s go over that telemetry—”

Ella gasps. Like, audibly.

I glance over my shoulder just as she whips around and bolts. “Ella!” I call after her, panic rising. “Come back here!”

Too late. She’s already launched herself at a man in red Ferrari gear—who turns just in time to catch her before she crashes into his legs.

“I knew it!” she squeals, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Your name is Lewis Hamilton! Like in Cars! You were the car in the movie! The British one with the shiny paint!”

Lewis—yes, that Lewis Hamilton—blinks down at her, clearly stunned. And then?

He laughs. Full-on, genuine, belly laugh. “Wow, I haven’t heard that in a while.”

I catch up just as he crouches down to her level, still smiling like she just made his entire year.

“I liked your voice,” she says seriously. “You sounded fast.”

I feel like melting into the concrete.

“I’m so sorry,” I rush out, cringing. “She’s been obsessed with Cars lately and heard your voice and… well, now here we are.”

He looks up at me and flashes that movie-star smile. “No need to apologize. That might be the best fan interaction I’ve ever had.”

My cheeks are burning, and not from the sun.

“I’m Lewis,” he says, standing now—still holding my daughter’s hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound like a complete idiot. “I figured.”

He glances between me and Ella, and I swear I see something spark behind those sunglasses. Something soft. Curious. Maybe even interested.

Ella’s still talking a mile a minute, hands animated as she tells Lewis about her Lightning McQueen pajamas and how she thinks Ferraris are “way cooler than Francesco Bernoulli, actually.”

Lewis listens like she’s giving a press conference. Nods, laughs in the right places, even kneels down again when she starts talking about how she wants to be a race car driver when she grows up. It’s… oddly heart-melting.

“She’s got good taste,” he says, standing again after she finishes her full review of Cars 2. “And quite the memory. I think I said four lines in that movie.”

“She watches it on loop,” I reply with a sheepish smile. “I think she could recite it backwards by now.”

“Poor you,” he jokes, then chuckles. “Actually, I take that back. That’s a solid film.”

“Strong performances all around,” I say, trying to keep it light, though my heart is hammering. I’m talking to Lewis Hamilton. Casual. No big deal.

He grins, and I swear the sun gets just a little brighter. “You’re her mum?”

“Yeah,” I say, glancing down at Ella, who’s now twirling around like she’s doing celebratory donuts. “My brother works with Ferrari, so he invited us for the day.”

“Ah. The guy in the headset who looked mildly panicked when she ran over?” he teases, gesturing toward Matt a few garages down, who’s giving me a thumbs-up and a very smug grin.

“That’s him. He’s never letting me live this down.”

Lewis laughs. “Well, I’m glad he brought you both. It’s nice having a bit of joy in the paddock for once. Most people here only run toward me if I’ve said something controversial.”

“Ella just thinks you’re a cool car,” I say, smiling.

“Honestly, I’ll take that over a journalist any day.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s… comfortable. Easy.

Then he surprises me.

“Can I get you a coffee or something?” he asks, glancing back toward the hospitality suite. “We’ve got some time before the next briefing. And I kind of want to hear more about your daughter’s movie critiques.”

I blink. “Are you—are you asking me out in the paddock?”

He shrugs, that same charming grin on his face. “Just coffee. Unless you want it to be more.”

My face feels like it’s on fire.

“I’d like that,” I manage. “I mean—the coffee. Not necessarily more. I mean—not not more. Just… yes. Coffee is good.”

He laughs again, clearly entertained by my slow-motion trainwreck.

“Come on,” he says, offering a hand. “I promise the coffee’s better than the movie acting.”

As we walk side by side, Ella skips ahead of us, humming the Cars soundtrack like she’s soundtracking our entire lives.

—

I don’t know what I expected when Lewis Hamilton invited me for coffee, but it definitely wasn’t this. Not sitting across from him on a shaded terrace at the Ferrari hospitality suite, both of us laughing while Ella colors in a cartoon car on a napkin someone kindly fetched just for her. Not the easy conversation. Not the way he kept looking at me like he wanted to memorize my face. And definitely not how comfortable it all feels.

“Okay,” he says, leaning back in his chair after Ella proudly announces that her drawing is him and “not Lightning McQueen this time.” “I have to ask.”

Uh-oh.

“Are you…” He glances at me, then lowers his voice, playful but deliberate. “Single? Just to be sure.”

I blink. Then laugh, a little surprised. “That obvious?”

“Not obvious,” he says, smiling. “But I don’t go around offering coffee to taken women. Or, you know, giving them the ‘Cars 2’ VIP experience.”

My cheeks warm. “Well, yes. I’m single. Been single for a while, actually.”

He nods once, and I swear I see something shift in his expression. Something a little more… serious. But still soft.

“Good,” he says, then pulls his phone out from the pocket of his red Ferrari team trousers and hands it to me. “Because I’d really like to see you again. Properly. Outside of this chaos.”

I blink down at the phone in my hands. He opened the contact app. My name is already typed in at the top.

“I mean—if you’d want to,” he adds, suddenly a little less sure of himself, which I find wildly endearing. “No pressure.”

I look up at him and smile. “Lewis, you let my daughter lecture you on Cars 2 for ten minutes and still wanted to talk to me after.”

He grins.

“Yeah, I’d want to.”

I type in my number, hesitating only slightly before adding a little 🚗 emoji at the end of my name, then hand it back to him.

He looks at it, chuckles under his breath. “Perfect.”

Ella tugs on my sleeve, then looks up at Lewis with hopeful eyes. “Can you be in Cars 4 too?”

Lewis raises his brows at me, pretending to think. “That depends. Will your mum come with me to the premiere?”

I nearly choke on my iced latte.

Ella looks between us and shrugs, already focused on her next drawing.

And just like that, I know this day is going to be one we won’t forget.

—

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, yourbff, georgerussell63 & 75,099 others.

yourusername : in love with life <3

—

username00 : oh it’s lewis 100 percent. those r his tattoos

username5 : never ever thought I’d see !dad lewis

yourbff : hold on I’m screaming

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc : Hope Ella likes the helmet! It was one of my first when I was young ❤️

liked by yourusername

yourusername : you are an angel! she absolutely loves it and i told her it came from “Charles the cool Ferrari guy” 🫶🏻

liked by charles_leclerc

username00 : Charles gave the child an old helmet?? Im screaming

username10 : omg it’s Roscoe

georgerussell63 : does ella like mercedes??

liked by yourusername

yourusername : unknown. however she would probably like you as she associates British accents with being fast :)

liked by georgerussell63, lando and lewishamilton

lando : smart kid

liked by yourusername

—

It’s been a month since our first date, and honestly? I still don’t believe any of it’s real. Sometimes I catch myself smiling like a lovesick teenager when I’m washing dishes or folding laundry, just remembering the way Lewis looked at me over coffee that day. The way he waited for Ella to finish her story before speaking. The way he texts me goodnight every night, no matter what country he’s in or how late his schedule runs. He’s busy — obviously. He’s Lewis Hamilton, and that comes with endless media, team meetings, travel, and the weight of an entire sport on his shoulders. But he’s never once made me feel like a burden. Never once made Ella feel like too much. We’ve spent weekends together when he’s in town. Park visits. Breakfasts in my tiny kitchen. Late-night talks on my couch with Ella fast asleep in the next room. I’ve watched them build a little world of inside jokes and shared grins. And every time I see them together, my heart squeezes. Still, it’s been five days since we’ve seen him in person, and Ella’s already asked when he’s coming back “from the big car work.” I miss him too. More than I expected to. More than I probably should, after only a month. My phone buzzes just as I settle on the couch with a glass of wine.

FaceTime from Lewis ❤️

I answer without hesitation. His face fills the screen, slightly fuzzy from wherever he is — a hotel room, judging by the neutral headboard behind him.

“Hey,” I say, smiling. “Didn’t expect to see your face tonight.”

He grins, and something about it looks a little softer. A little more tired than usual.

“Hi, beautiful. Had to see you. And maybe ask when I can get a certain tiny helmet-wearing human back in my arms.”

I laugh, shifting the phone so he can see Ella’s drawing of a “race car house” she made earlier. “She misses you. She told the preschool teacher you live in the Cars universe.”

He chuckles, then goes quiet for a second. “I miss you both.”

My breath catches. He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s not still blowing my mind every time he chooses us.

“I miss you too,” I admit. “It’s not the same without you here.”

There’s a pause. Then, he leans closer to the camera, a little more serious now.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts. “I’ve got back-to-back races coming up, but I don’t want to go another couple weeks without seeing you. Or Ella. What if… you came with me? Both of you.”

I blink. “You want us to travel with you?”

“I do,” he says gently. “Only if you’re comfortable. I know it’s a lot — new places, media, the chaos. But we’d make it work. I’ll take care of everything. I just…” He runs a hand over his jaw. “I want you there. Both of you. It already feels weird being away.”

My heart flips. Like actually flips.

“She’d lose her mind,” I whisper, stunned.

He smiles. “I hope so.”

“And me?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes soften. “You already have.”

—

There’s something surreal about standing outside my apartment at 6 a.m., suitcase at my feet, coffee in one hand, watching Ella bounce in place like she’s about to launch into orbit.

“Do you think the jet has snacks?” she asks for the fifth time in ten minutes, clutching her tiny backpack like it holds national secrets. “Like popcorn? Or cookies? Or astronaut food?”

I laugh softly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “I’m sure it has snacks, babe. You’ll probably get to pick.”

She gasps. “Even juice?”

“Even juice,” I nod solemnly.

She’s practically vibrating now, and I can’t blame her. I’m nervous too…not because I don’t want to go, but because it feels like such a big step. Not just a vacation or a getaway. It’s a real peek into his world, the fast paced, private jet, race weekend chaos that Lewis calls normal.

And the fact that he wants us there? That he asked for us?

A sleek black SUV pulls up to the curb, and Ella freezes like a deer in headlights. “Is that him? Is it Daddy Lightning?”

I stifle a laugh. “Is that his new nick name?”

The door opens, and there he is — hoodie pulled up, sunglasses on, all sleepy-smile and early-morning calm.

“Morning, ladies,” he says, stepping out and immediately crouching to Ella’s level. “Are we ready for our big adventure?”

She throws her arms around him without hesitation. “Do you live on the plane?”

He laughs, lifting her up with ease. “Not quite. But we’ll be on it for a few hours, so that’s close enough, right?”

She nods seriously. “Do I get to sit in the front?”

“We’ll see what the pilot says,” he winks.

Then his eyes meet mine over her shoulder, and something quiet passes between us. It’s warm. Grounded. Like he sees me in the middle of all this whirlwind, and still chooses me anyway.

“Hi,” he says gently.

“Hi,” I smile, nerves melting the second he takes my suitcase from me like it’s instinct.

The ride to the airstrip is a blur of laughter, Ella’s endless questions, and Lewis glancing over at me like he can’t believe this is real either.

And then we’re there — standing at the base of a sleek private jet, the sun just beginning to rise behind it. Ella clutches my hand and whispers, “This is like the movies.”

I squeeze hers. “Yeah, it really is.”

Lewis helps us up the steps, his hand on my back, and the second we step inside, Ella gasps.

“It’s like a flying living room!”

She’s right — plush seats, soft lighting, snacks already set out like a welcome gift. Lewis sets our bags down and gestures for her to explore.

“Make yourself at home,” he grins. “You’re officially part of the team now.”

She spins in a slow circle, then plops into a seat with a giggle. “Best. Day. Ever.”

And I can’t help it — I look at him, heart full to bursting, and whisper, “Thank you.”

He turns to me, eyes soft. “You don’t have to thank me. This just feels… right.”

And as the engines hum to life and Ella starts singing the Cars theme under her breath, I realize he’s right.

—

The second we step into the paddock, Ella’s already tugging at my hand, eyes wide like she’s just walked into Disneyland for motorsport lovers. Which, to be fair… she has. She’s got her oversized Ferrari cap on — gifted by Lewis, obviously — and her little team tee that nearly reaches her knees. There’s a lanyard with her paddock pass bouncing against her chest, and an expression on her face that says she’s exactly where she belongs. We’re barely past the entrance when she spots someone and gasps dramatically.

“Mama,” she hisses. “UNCLE FERRARI!!”

Before I can even ask what that means, she’s bolting straight across the walkway — and right into the arms of Charles Leclerc.

He lets out a surprised laugh but catches her easily, crouching down as she throws her arms around his neck like they’ve known each other forever.

“Bonjour, petite fille,” he grins, his accent soft. “Uncle Ferrari?”

Ella nods solemnly. “You’re the red one. My favorite.”

From a few steps behind us, my brother bursts out laughing.

“Oh really, Ella?” he calls over. “What does that make me then?”

She blinks at him, thinking very hard. “Uncle Ferrari boss.”

I nearly choke.

Charles is now laughing, absolutely delighted. “You’ve been upgraded,” he tells my brother with a wink.

“You see what I deal with?” I murmur as I walk over, cheeks warm.

My brother grins. “Honestly? She’s already more popular in this paddock than most of our drivers.”

He’s not wrong.

And then—like some sort of comedic timing conspiracy—Lando Norris strolls in, clearly intrigued by the toddler-sized Ferrari fan in Charles’s arms.

“What’s all this?” he asks, eyes twinkling as he bends down. “Who’s this little legend? Is this the Ella?”

Ella turns her head, still in Charles’s arms. “Who are you?”

Charles chuckles. “That’s Lando. He drives the orange one.”

She squints. “Like… orange Lightning McQueen?”

Lando gasps, offended and flattered all at once. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever called me.”

Right on cue, George Russell appears, sunglasses on, sipping something green and healthy-looking, clocking the scene instantly.

“Don’t tell me we have a new favorite on the grid?” he says with a teasing glance at Charles.

“She already declared me Uncle Ferrari,” Charles says smugly.

“Uncle who?” George repeats, eyebrow raised. Then he leans down toward Ella. “And what am I then?”

She eyes him, deadly serious. “Uncle Sunglasses.”

George looks personally attacked.

“She’s not wrong,” I mumble, trying not to laugh.

Charles passes Ella back to me and says, “You’ll have to earn new titles, boys.”

I smile as Ella curls back into my arms, thrilled and smug and totally in her element.

Lando looks at me for the first time — really looks. “You must be YN.”

“Guilty,” I laugh. “And mildly horrified by the chaos she’s already caused.”

“No chaos,” George grins, offering a hand. “Just a ray of sunshine — and, let’s be honest, the new face of the Ferrari junior program.”

Charles nods sagely. “It’s settled then.”

—

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, lando & 122,099 others.

yourusername : well ella has started collecting f1 drivers like infinity stones

tagged : yourbff, charles_leclerc, lando, georgerussell63 & lewishamilton

—

charles_leclerc : uncle ferrari is her favorite, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise ❤️🇲🇨

liked by yourusername

yourbrother : the second she realized how cool charles is — I became chopped liver 😁

liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc : nah bro she gave you a promotion…you are still clearly number one here 😁

liked by yourusername and yourbrother

yourbff : she is just like her auntie fr

liked by yourusername

yourusername : I can’t with you

username00 : this is so cute omg

username10 : and the heart hand with lewis. They are def dating

lando : uncle orange lightning 💪🏻🧡 I should ask for a movie deal

liked by yourusername

yourusername : ella would def help write the script

F1 : Ella is definitely going to make Cars 4 happen and half the grid will be starring in it! 🎬

liked by yourusername

yourusername : probably called “all my uncles are race cars“

georgerussell63 : honestly uncle sunglasses makes me sound like the fashion icon i am. such an honor.

liked by yourusername

carmenmmundt: is ella looking for an aunt sunglasses ??❤️

liked by yourusername

yourusername : she is looking for any excuse to extend our family😁 welcome ❤️

liked by carmenmmundt

lewishamilton : you all might be uncles but daddy lightning reigns supreme 🤍

liked by yourusername and lando

yourusername : still can’t believe that’s your new name 🤦🏻‍♀️

liked by lewishamilton

lewishamilton : it’s my honor

liked by yourusername

—

lewis’ pov

Three months. Ninety-something days since our first date. And somehow, it already feels like a lifetime — in the best way possible.

I’ve fallen in love twice in that time. Once with YN. And once with the tiny, bossy, endlessly curious human who came with her.

Ella.

She’s currently sitting cross-legged on the floor of my hotel suite, wearing her favorite Ferrari hoodie (that she refuses to take off even when it’s 24 degrees outside), munching on grapes, and watching Cars for what I think is the third time today. Maybe fourth. I’ve lost count.

YN is finally getting the full day to herself I’ve been begging her to take — massage, facial, lunch with her best friend, the works. I practically shoved her into the spa robe myself this morning while Ella shouted “BYEEEEEEEEE MAMA!” like she wasn’t secretly obsessed with her.

Honestly? I was more nervous than I thought I’d be.

It’s one thing to be with YN and Ella, our little trio. But just me and Ella? On our own?

Turns out, I didn’t need to worry.

We’ve been building forts. Making up names for the pit crew. Drawing faces on fruit. She told me earlier that my beard makes me look “wise like a lion.”

I’ll take it.

Right now, she scoots closer to the couch, then climbs up beside me without a word. I put the remote down and wrap an arm around her shoulders automatically.

“Still tired, munchkin?”

She nods, rubbing her eyes. Then she curls into my side and rests her cheek against my chest like she’s done it a hundred times before.

We sit in silence, just the hum of the movie in the background and the soft weight of her against me. It’s the kind of stillness that feels sacred.

Then, out of nowhere, she mumbles it.

“Love you, Daddy.”

My heart actually stops.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up. I glance down, thinking maybe I heard her wrong — maybe she meant teddy or Laddy, the dog from the movie or some imaginary character I’ve missed — but no.

She’s looking up at me with sleepy eyes and the softest smile.

Like she knows.

“Did you…” I start, my voice catching. “Did you just call me��?”

“Daddy,” she repeats, gently. “You’re mine, right?”

Something in my chest breaks wide open.

I gather her into my arms fully now, holding her like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever touched — because she is.

“Yeah, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m yours. Always.”

And I mean it more than I’ve meant anything in my life.

When YN texts me an hour later.

how’s my wild child??

She’s perfect. Everything’s perfect.

Remind me to tell you what she said today.

(You’re gonna cry, by the way.)

—

your pov :

I knew something had shifted the second I walked back into the hotel suite.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. The lights were low, Ella was tucked into bed, and Lewis was sitting on the couch in one of his hoodies, staring down at his hands. Calm. Still. But there was something in the air — soft and heavy, like a truth waiting to be spoken.

He looked up when he heard me come in and smiled that quiet kind of smile I’ve only seen him give when it’s just us. No cameras. No circuits. Just him and me and Ella.

“Hey,” I said, voice gentle. “How’d it go?”

“She was an angel,” he said softly. “You should go to the spa more often.”

I laughed and walked toward him, kicking off my shoes and sitting beside him on the couch. “Did she make you watch Cars again?”

“Twice,” he nodded. “And she made Lightning McQueen a girl this time. She renamed him Elaina.”

“Of course she did.”

He looked at me then — really looked at me — and I felt the air shift again.

“She said something today,” he said, voice lower now. “Something kind of big.”

My heart stilled. “What do you mean?”

“She called me ‘Daddy.’” His voice cracked the tiniest bit. “Just… said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

My breath caught.

Tears welled in my eyes instantly — fast, overwhelming, real.

“She what?” I whispered.

“She looked up at me, smiled, and just… said it.” He paused. “And I swear, YN, I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”

I covered my mouth with one hand, completely undone.

“She’s never called anyone that before,” I said, barely able to get the words out. “Not once.”

“I know,” he said, scooting closer. “And I didn’t want to tell you just to tell you. I wanted to tell you because… I realized something.”

I blinked up at him, heart pounding.

“I love her,” he said simply. “So much it scares me. But I love you, too. Completely. Quietly. Loudly. All of it.”

My breath hitched. His eyes never left mine.

“I don’t want this to be casual,” he continued. “I don’t want to be your maybe. I want to be your person. I want to be hers. I want to be ours.”

Tears slid down my cheeks, but I was smiling now.

“You already are,” I whispered.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine.

“So then let’s make it official,” he murmured. “No more soft launches. No more pretending we’re not already a family.”

I kissed him — soft, grateful, all-in — and whispered against his lips.

“Okay. Official.”

And it felt like the most natural, beautiful yes I’d ever given.

—

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, yourbrother, charles_leclerc & 5,090,787 others.

lewishamilton : didn’t just fall in love with my beautiful girlfriend but also fell in love with her mini me ❤️ my girls for life

—

yourusername : my whole heart ❤️😭 we love you sm

liked by lewishamilton

yourbrother : did not have lewis hamilton becoming my brother in law on the bingo card for this season but so happy for you guys!

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourbff : never thought id see her become a wag😭🤭 so happy for you both. thank you for making my best friend so happy lewis

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

charles_leclerc : So happy for you both❤️ and give my sweet little ella a kiss from uncle ferrari

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : Happy you found two people who make you as happy as you deserve to be, brother. Even if one of those people calls me uncle sunglasses 😎

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : maybe one day if you’re lucky you’ll manage to get an uncle george out of her but no promises

liked by georgerussell63 and lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : nah I wouldn’t trade being uncle sunglasses for anything in the world ❤️

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

lando : ella really said im gonna meet my goat, get my mom a boyfriend and add like 20 uncles to the family and made it all happen. she is rlly that girl

liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

yourusername : she loves her uncle orange lightning 🫶🏻

liked by lando

—

🧚🏻🦋🌙🌵🪲

[wildflower-ramblings]

Because I want to quit my job and be a pretty little housewife right now, here’s my thoughts on the 141 and their opinions on the matter

(slight warning for mentions of DV?, breeding kink and housewife kink ahead, as always 18+ MINORS DNI)

Simon would be the least likely to want a housewife. He’s seen what happens to women who have nothing to rely on but their husbands, and whilst he knows he’d never do to you what his father did to his mother, there’s always that niggling voice in the back of his head saying what if. What if he can’t escape his father’s grip, what if he does turn out just like him? Of course he rationalises it to you by saying that if something happened to him, he wants to know you could take care of yourself, even though he knows damn well that he could set you up for life, between his pension and the money he’s stashed by never spending a cent on himself. But he wants you to have something just for yourself, something that couldn’t be taken away by him in any way. But if your job is causing you the slightest amount of stress? He’s the first to tell you to quit. If you want another job you can take your time to find the right one, but he won’t have anything distressing you, even if it’s just a micromanaging boss or tight deadlines.

Controversial opinion but Johnny has a slight preference for a career woman. Nothing against housewives, and he definitely loves seeing you at home by the stove in a pretty little dress telling him dinner’s almost ready, but something about a woman in charge just does it for him (he does love putting a woman on top...and on her back...and on her knees). It turns him on seeing you be confident and capable at work, especially if that job involves giving orders or putting people in their place. Plus it gives his ego a nice boost when he can take that strong independent woman and fuck you absolutely stupid until you can’t even remember your own name. It’s his favourite way to help you de-stress after a bad day. If you want to be a housewife, however...I hope you like kids. Because this man has the biggest breeding kink of them all, and nothing brings it out quite like seeing you being all soft and domestic and taking care of him. Besides, it must be so quiet and lonely when he’s away, wouldn’t it be so much better with a house full of children’s laughter?

Kyle doesn’t care either way. He’s your number one supporter in whatever you do. He’ll let you practice presentations on him and bring you dinner if you’re working late. (Plus both he and Johnny love hearing the office gossip) He’s absolutely got heart eyes listening to you explain some detail about your work. It doesn’t matter what your job is, this man is so proud of you for having it and will brag like hell to anyone who’ll listen. But if you ever wanted to leave your job, he’d still be so supportive. He’s so proud of you for recognising that it was hurting you, and for being strong enough to walk away when everyone else (and society as a whole) tells you you need to have a job to have value. He would do whatever it takes to reassure you that you’re not being a burden, that you don’t have to ‘bring something to the table’ in this relationship – you bring yourself, and that’s enough – in fact most times it’s more than he thinks he deserves. The least he can do is spoil you in return. And he absolutely does. If you want to spend all day on your hobbies, he’s got you – you have all the supplies you could ever dream of (and even some you couldn’t, because he brings back things you’ve never heard of from every deployment). Whatever you want he's 100% behind you (and in front of you, on his knees)

John wouldn’t call himself a feminist (he hates that word. Why does there need to be a special word for what should be obvious?) but he is, for the most part. He’s worked with plenty of women who could leave him in the dust, and sees no difference in a woman or man doing the same job. But you? He wants you at home with nothing to worry your pretty little head over other than what colour manicure to get or how you want to arrange the furniture. Not because he doesn’t think you’re capable of having a job – he knows damn well you could run the whole damn world. But he sees it as his responsibility to look after you, to provide for you, and that extends to everything you could ever want. If he can’t give it to you without you having to lift a finger, then he’s failed as a partner. He puts the fate of the world solely on his own shoulders, and you’re his world, so it makes sense he holds himself to the same rigid standards at home as he does at work. He’ll never admit that he has a raging domesticity kink and wants to fuck you over the kitchen counter wearing nothing but your apron and a pair of heels.

Dividers by cursed-carmine

[invincibledc]

⋆˙⟡#A MAN, A MAN, A- MANNN!⋆˙⟡

⭑.ᐟDEMETRIUS PRINCE(OC) X BATSIB!READER

ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS: the times Demetrius showed he’s a man for you!

ᯓ★GENRE: fluff

ᯓ★INFO: This is a superson OC I’ve written for my own amusement. Demetrius is clearly the son of Diana Prince, and being the older brother of Elizabeth “Lizzie” Prince. Reader is the twin sibling of Damian, Damian being the older sibling. He’s canonically handsome cause he’s the son of Diana Prince. He has those Amazon genes.

ᯓ★WC: 1,265

FIRST TIME.

The first time he proved he was a man for you was when you didn’t like your order. It was straightforward: you decided to venture beyond your usual comfort food preferences. You love meat, especially chicken and eggs, but this was an opportunity for something different.

You were at a quaint restaurant, on what felt like a discreet date—one that Damian would undoubtedly take issue with, considering he’d probably go after this Amazon male for daring to date his twin sibling.

But you appreciated the way he treated you. He opened the door as you entered, pulled out your chair, and pushed it in after you sat down. You suppressed a giggle as you noticed a faint blush on Demetrius’s tanned cheeks. The menu offered several enticing options, and while you found one of your comfort foods, another dish grabbed your attention.

Demetrius studied you intently. “Did you find what you want?” he asked, his tone gentle as he set his menu down.

“Uh.. I think so?” you replied, unsure. As you handed him your menu, he leaned in closer.

“What are you getting?” His anticipation was palpable.

You showed him your choice. “Ah, that’s... unique,” he commented, then confidently ordered for himself and included your choice to the waiter.

When the food arrived, you inhaled the delightful aromas, smiling at how delicious everything smelled. But it was clear that Demetrius's dish looked even more appealing. You tasted yours, giving it a chance based on the enticing smell. That was a mistake; the dish was utterly repulsive. You masked a gag and discreetly spit it into a napkin.

Demetrius ate from his plate, feigning ignorance to your struggle, but a smirk tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, managing to suppress a chuckle as you nervously glanced at him.

“Can... can I have some of your food?” you asked, not wanting to impose, even though you’ve known him long enough in years.

“Sure,” he replied with a chuckle, switching plates with you without hesitation. Your eyes widened in surprise as he took a bite of your distasteful meal.

“Demetri, you didn’t have to do that—”

“I wanted to. I knew you wouldn’t like your food,” he said, leaning back in his chair after wiping his mouth. “That’s why I ordered something I knew you would enjoy.”

He clearly relished the moment, watching your eyes light up with appreciation. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well, thank you, beloved. That was very considerate of you.”

“I know. Now eat up, moró mou.”

That date turned out to be surprisingly romantic.

SECOND TIME.

The second time it happened, Demetrius clearly showcased his protective side. You and he were out for another casual hangout, just the two of you. You confidently held onto his arm, appreciating the way his muscles flexed under his sweatshirt.

On that chilly winter afternoon, you strolled through the city, both of you enjoying your time there. However, Demetrius started to look bored, yawning as you smiled and hummed, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You noticed someone around your age throwing glances your way, but you didn’t think much of it until you caught them staring at you again.

Feeling a shiver run down your spine, you instinctively leaned closer into Demetrius. The unwanted attention made you want to shrink away, but Demetrius sensed your discomfort immediately. He looked down at you and then shifted his gaze to the person who couldn't stop staring.

His jaw clenched tightly as he positioned his large frame in front of you, effectively blocking the person’s view. With a fierce glare from his deep blue eyes, he silently dared them to try anything. The moment the person felt the heat of Demetrius’s intimidation, they quickly looked away.

From that point on, Demetrius took it upon himself to shield you from anyone's gaze for the rest of the day. He grasped your hand firmly in his, making it clear that he wanted you close by and wouldn’t let you wander off.

THIRD TIME.

The third time, and now the present moment—Demetrius demonstrated that even a touch of makeup doesn’t diminish masculinity. His little sister Lizzie, on the other hand, was clearly bored and insisting that he play dress-up with her.

He insists he’s focused on his future spouse—on you. He reclines his wavy black hair onto your lap, leaning in to kiss your hand as you run your fingers through his hair. In the background, Lizzie pouts and storms off to her room. You can’t help but frown; the girl just wanted someone to play with.

“Come on, beloved, she’s just looking for someone to play with,” you say firmly, withdrawing your hand as he attempts to kiss it again.

Demetrius groans, rising with his eyes cast down. “That brat can entertain herself with her dolls for all I care.”

He was struck sharply in the head, coupled with an intense glare from you. “Demetrius Prince. You will play with your little sister; she clearly looks up to you.” With that, you got up and exited his room, shutting the door behind you—and leaving the frustrated Amazon male to sigh deeply.

Running a hand through his hair, he got up and followed you. He might be a jerk, but you were absolutely right about Lizzie admiring him. He found you in her room, engaged in a lively tea party.

Demetrius leaned against the door frame, a confident smile spreading across his face as he watched his cute lover and sister play together. You exchanged a knowing glance, aware he would follow you into the room.

Without hesitation, he plopped down next to you on the rickety little chair that felt like it could collapse at any moment under his weight.

Lizzie pouted. “No! That spot is for Ms. Gloria!” she declared firmly. Demetrius rolled his eyes. “Guess she’s not coming, then.”

The tension between the siblings was palpable, each giving the other a pointed glare until Lizzie’s face lit up with mischief.

“Then you’re Ms. Gloria!” she announced with a cheeky grin.

“What?!” Demetrius exclaimed, his voice echoing, causing you to stifle a laugh behind your hand.

Although he could have protested, he surrendered to the moment, allowing you and Lizzie to enthusiastically apply makeup on him.

He looked surprisingly good with a touch of red lipstick and blue eyeshadow. There was no denying it—his looks certainly made him a pretty boy.

“You know, most guys would rather die than put on makeup, my beloved.” You said decisively as you reached for some blush. Demetrius huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “Well, I’m not like most guys, babe.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his protest. “You’ve got that right.”

As you cupped his face to apply a hint of blush, Demetrius opened his eyes, his breath steady as he locked onto your face and then traced down to your lips.

“…you’re really close,” he murmured, his voice low. You paused, a playful smile crossing your face. “Am I?” you asked, leaning in even closer. The hint of blush on his cheeks morphed into a genuine flush as he placed his hands firmly on your hips.

“Yep…” he said before pulling you in for a soft kiss. Responding felt like pure magic, but it abruptly shattered when Lizzie gagged dramatically at the sight of her older brother kissing you.

“Eww!! Cooties!!” she exclaimed, her tongue sticking out in mock disapproval.

Demetrius broke the kiss, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Oh, shush it.” But Lizzie couldn't help but giggle afterward, returning to the tea party as if nothing happened.

Demetrius Prince tag: @darkfaethedestroyer @dead-ry-walking @chalkadow @eclecticeaglebluebird @mistake34 @dandelion-delusion

[munchhmm]

hey ml! Was wondering if you could do headcanons of one piece men, specifically Zoro, with a love interest (preferably fem) who is SUPER strong, and fast, like Saitama.

Thank youuu! Byeee

More Than Muscle

Hi annon! I’m sorry I’ve never watched One Punch Man and I'm not feeling very well oops, but I have an idea (I think) of what you were expecting though!! hopefully this is good :’)

The boys reacting to reader being super duper strong! ♡

Image above is mine.

Pairings: Zoro, Ace, Law, Smoker, and Luffy x F!reader.

Warnings: None! ᐢ. .ᐢ

Word count: 550 I'm sorry It's so short :(

Zoro > ᴗ•

Doesn’t want to admit you might be stronger than him.

Sees firsthand how powerful your skills are—he’s in awe but would never show it.

Trains harder to try and get on your level, even though in the back of his head he knows it’s probably not possible.

Secretly finds it cute and fun; sparring with you felt like a real challenge.

“Where did all of this come from?” —asking out of sheer curiosity but with a hint of annoyance, knowing you’re beating his ass.

Protects you silently; he sees your strength but knows everyone gets tired sometimes.

Lets you lean on his shoulder, eventually his lap after practice—running his fingers through your hair when he knows you’re asleep.

Ace ´ ᵕ `

Smirking but wants to be your biggest fan on the inside.

Constantly puts you up to tests, timing your speed and agility.

In awe when you fight, almost to the point he forgets he’s in the scuffle himself.

Still tries to take care of you like a baby—he admires you so much. Even if you’re strong, you’re still his love.

Honestly would probably try to stop you from going overboard, like you’re all fighting and he grabs you so things don’t get too heated. Haha, literally, right? Get it with Ace? I should shut up…

When you get tired, he scoops you up and holds your body like you’re the most fragile thing on earth.

Doesn’t care about the teasing—he respects you even if your power can compare to his.

Law ᵔᗜᵔ

Doesn’t say a word outright, just a small smirk across his face.

Worries way too much—his doctor instincts kick in. Are you pushing yourself too hard? Are you hurt? These thoughts circle his mind constantly.

Stands behind you with his eyes closed like he isn’t paying attention. He most certainly is.

Offers practical help: meditation and cold compresses. This is his way of showing he cares.

When you do inevitably push yourself too far, he’s the first to notice—almost forcing you to rest and take things easy.

In secret, he lets you lay on his chest while he watches your face, trying to read what mental and physical state you’re in.

Would never let anyone tease you—giving deadly glances when anyone dares to open their mouth.

Smoker •⤙•

Cold and stern outwardly; on the inside, he’s really impressed.

Worries about you in battle but knows you can handle it.

If you ever did get hurt, he’d calmly bandage you while cursing himself for not being there sooner.

Never lets you push yourself too hard, even when necessary—he cares too much about you.

Watches with a focused eye at all times.

Brags about you to other Marines without even realizing it.

Keeps your weak spots in the back of his mind so he can help when—really if—needed.

Luffy >ヮ<

Biggest fanboy from the very start.

“WOAH, THAT’S SO COOL! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Wants to join every fight you’re in from that point forward.

Secretly learns the way you fight so maybe he can copy you.

If anyone ever underestimates you, he just laughs and lets you at them.

Tells everyone that you’re the strongest person he’s ever met—and means it.

Makes you eat lots of food—aside from what he steals from you, ofc—and rest a bunch to keep your strength.

[venusveil]

Unpopular opinion

(about the zodiac placements)

[⚠️ Disclaimer: This post contains mature content. Viewer discretion advised.]

☃︎Virgo Moons aren't clean freaks — they’re just emotionally constipated with a label maker.

☃︎Scorpio Risings don’t intimidate people — they just look like they hate everyone (including themselves).

☃︎Someone said Leo Moon Needs attention like plants need sun. And I gasped dramatically. (a Leo Moon)

☃︎Pisces Rising doesn’t have “aesthetic” — they have main character delusions with a blurry filter.

☃︎Libra/Scorpio is loyal... but only when they feel like you’re giving them main character energy. If not? Bye.

☃︎Pisces Mercuries will lie to your face cry about it and then forget they even did it.

☃︎Sagittarius Venuses don’t fear commitment — they fear boredom. Yes, that includes you babe.

☃︎Venus in Aquarius has Detachment kink. Will have you in a situationship for 3 years and call it “energy exchange.” Wants to be your partner, best friend, cult leader, and FBI agent.

☃︎ A Mars in Leo partner Will f*ck you like it’s an Olympic sport and expect a 10/10 review. Gets angry if you don’t moan their name like a prayer.

☃︎I’ve got Sagittarius Mercury in the 3rd — anytime something bad, good, or nostalgic hits me, I write. Been journaling since I was 9, mostly about people and how I see them.

☃︎Gemini Suns are not two-faced — they just have 87 tabs open and one of them is definitely plotting.

☃︎Libra Risings don’t flirt they’re just trying to survive awkward social tension by being extra friendly.

☃︎Cancer Suns aren’t sweethearts — they’re passive-aggressive historians of every wrong ever done to them.

☃︎Mars in Gemini will talk you into a threesome, ghost you, then DM you a month later like nothing happened.

☃︎Cancer Mars is horny for emotional danger. If it doesn’t feel like a toxic situationship. they’re not turned on.

☃︎Venus in Leo gets off on jealousy. Flirting in front of their partner is foreplay not betrayal.

☃︎Virgo Venus is secretly into degradation kink but will judge your grammar mid-hookup.

☃︎Aries Mercury wants to argue just to get horny. “I hate you” = “Take your pants off.” hehe.

☃︎Aquarius Mars will ghost you mid-sex to “reconnect with their higher self.”

☃︎Libra Sun will pretend they’re innocent but their search history says otherwise. The first time I met my best friend (she's a libra) I literally thought she was the most innocent person ever. In reality she's far away from innocence.

☃︎Taurus Moon doesn’t care about your feelings unless you’re in their bed and brought snacks. Preferably both.

☃︎Capricorn Venus doesn’t fear love — they fear looking stupid for loving someone.

☃︎Libra Mercury isn’t a good communicator — they just know how to dodge accountability with charm.

☃︎I don’t hate Geminis — I actually love them.Except the ones with Pisces mixed in.Those are lying, manipulative chaos goblins. Sorry not sorry.

☃︎Sagittarius Moon isn’t deep — they just trauma-dump and leave.

☃︎Scorpio Mercury doesn’t keep secrets — they collect yours.

☃︎Aquarius Sun – Thinks they’re mysterious but just avoidant and allergic to real connection.

☃︎One thing about Aquarius: they’ll treat their friends like family, but stay emotionally detached from their actual family.

☃︎Libra Moon – Can’t process their own emotions, but gives everyone else therapy

☃︎Libra & Taurus placements do love beauty, but will still date the most questionable-looking people ever.

Libra/Taurus Venus or Mars, though? Nah. We need to be visually obsessed. I’m a Libra Venus & Mars — tried dating someone I wasn’t into ended up isolating myself.

☃︎Scorpio Sun + Leo Moon They will watch your story 5x, analyze your texts, and never admit it. These baddie falls first. But they’ll die before telling you. (I'll die single but never admit that I've crush on you.)

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.

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[whateveriwant]

The 141 being freaky in bed

18+ only. GN!Reader.

I’ll be honest, most of the time I headcanon the guys as pretty vanilla in the bedroom, but I do think they have a few instances where they’ll embrace their nasty freak tendencies.

Ghost

This man is such a freak in his day to day life that, comparatively, I don’t think he’s very freaky in the bedroom

That being said, one thing he does really enjoy is degradation. Things like making you hump his boot while he yawns boredly or leaning against the headboard as you ride him, crossing his arms behind his head, tutting as he mocks, “Y’ call that puttin’ your back into it?” (But he never lets you embarrass yourself for too long before he’s flipping you onto your back to show you how to really fuck)

In a similar vein, he loves to talk to your genitals like they’re their own person, e.g. “Is this needy cunt/cock desperate for me? She’s/He’s drippin’ like she/he is. Tsk, poor thing.” Sometimes he pretends like you’re not even in the room with him – that it’s just him and your holes he can’t wait to stuff

He’s also a big fan of spit play. Whether it’s spitting on your groin as he stares you deep in the eyes or spitting in your mouth while he pries your jaw open, letting out a string of cigarette-flavored drool. He uses it almost like a stake of ownership, not unlike when someone licks their food to stop others from stealing a bite

Above all else though, he likes having control. There’s the usual things like deciding the pace, the position, and so on when you fuck, but then there’s other things he also takes upon himself. Things like carrying you to/from the bed, stripping/dressing you like a doll, bathing you, shaving you. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry.

Freak-o-meter rating: 3.8/10

Gaz

Don’t let his boy-next-door looks fool you. This man is more than capable of getting down and freaky when he wants to

For example, he’s a deviant for public sex. Doesn’t matter if it’s in the backseat of the car in a packed parking lot, in the bathroom at your family get-together, or even in the stuffy janitor’s closet at base when there’s a meeting happening right next door. For him, the riskier the sex, the better

He also loves to mark you up. Whether it’s a small love bite on your chest or a hand shaped bruise on your ass, he lives for seeing his marks on your skin. But one thing to note – those marks are for his eyes only. Don’t be going around showing them off to everyone. And also, don’t worry about them ever fading. He’ll make sure to apply new ones before the old ones can disappear

Now, some might consider this cheesy, but he really enjoys roleplaying in the bedroom. It can be as subtle as a single word huffed in your ear or it can be as extensive as a stage production – complete with costumes, props, and plot. By far, one of his favorite scenarios to play is the injured soldier being “tended to” by his slutty nurse

Building off that last point, not only is my man a bit of an actor, but he’s also a director because he loves to film you two having sex (Martin Scorsese, eat your heart out). His POV is his preferred angle to film from because it puts him right back in the moment when he watches it again, but really, any angle where he can watch you come apart on his cock is grade-A wank material for him

Freak-o-meter rating: 5.1/10

Price

I think of him almost like a sleeper cell freak. Most of the time he goes about his business very mild and vanilla, but then something will set him off and then all of a sudden he’s going full blown freak

While he is first and foremost a man of obtaining consent, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy a little free use when you permit. Especially if he’s had a long day at work or if he’s just finished a tough mission, having you ready and willing to take him whenever he wants is precisely what he needs to wind down

Say it with me, folks: creampies, creampies, creampies. To him, there’s nothing better in this world than stuffing a nice tight hole full of cum. He loves to dump multiple loads in you and then have you hold it, before pushing it all out in one thick glob. Bonus points if he shoves it back in with his fingers so you can do it over and over again

One nasty habit he has is taking your cum-stained underwear with him whenever he’s away for work. So when he misses you or needs a reminder of home, he holds it up to his nose (or cock) and remembers what he’s got waiting for him. (By the time he gives them back to you, those drawers are so stiff they can stand on their own)

As you’ve probably already guessed, this man has a big scent kink. When you come home after the gym or after doing a double at work, he loves to bury his face in your chest, pits, crotch, etc. and just inhale. That natural tang of your sweat is an aphrodisiac like no other to him. It very much gives Napoleon telling Josephine not to bathe before he returns from war

Freak-o-meter rating: 6.8/10

Soap

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. This man is a capital-F Freeeeeak!

Foot fetish, ‘nuff said. He likes to admire your feet, pamper them, massage them, kiss them, put his cock between them and fuck them, etc etc. Once, when he was really down bad, he had you don a pair of strappy heels and stomp on him (best night of his life if you ask him)

As long as he can remember, he’s liked to play with his food, and the bedroom is no exception to that practice. Whether it’s feeding you sensual staples like strawberries and champagne or drizzling his cock in chocolate syrup and having you suck it off, he’s not one to shy away from mixing food with sex

However, one kink he does get a little nervous about sharing is his interest in pet play – him being the pet, that is. It’s not that he has any real shame in it, but more so he never knows how the other person will react when he brings it up. If that is something that interests you though, he’ll be absolutely thrilled. There’s nothing he’d like more than to be led around on a leash by you. (And might I say, he looks great on his knees)

But by far, without a doubt the number one thing that gets his rocks off is group sex. There’s just something about getting to share in multiple people’s pleasure simultaneously that excites him beyond comparison. So whether it’s cucking, partner swapping, an orgy, etc. he’s down for it. He’s truly the inspiration for the phrase “guys literally only want one thing and it’s fucking disgusting”

Freak-o-meter rating: 9.99999/10

[mrsbarnesblog]

HIII! can you write a fic in which Rafe and reader are like friends w benefits who are also roommates, and she’s been ignoring him for a while and he’s loosing his shit trying to figure out why. And one night he confronts her and she reveals that she’s pregnant and he’s so ecstatic that he knocked her up that he fcks her. I imagine him like telling her how he wanted to knock her up while he’s talking her through it, basically revealing how manipulative he can be. LOVE UR WRITING, would love to read your take on this! 💌

words: 1.4k

warnings: p in v, creampie, breeding kink, possessive and dark-ish Rafe, dub-con

a/n: thank you for your request, anon <3 my first time writing something like this, so i hope you like it

Rafe knew you well enough to understand that your sudden quietness and distancing from him meant something serious. Over the last year, when you two were roommates and half of this time you spent at a borderline of something you could name as ‘friends with benefits,’ he noticed patterns in your behavior that became a norm. The way you talked too much, the way you liked wearing his clothes, lying about not being able to find yours, or the way you had always sneaked into his room in the middle of the night. 

But he was fed up with your sudden change, when you didn’t even spare a glance at him, always locking yourself in your room and saying something about being tired. 

Rafe didn’t even knock on your door when he decided to end it, because there was nothing he didn’t see before, nothing you could’ve possibly been ashamed of. You were lying on your side, facing the wall, looking so small and vulnerable. 

“You’re ignoring me.” He said simply, standing in the middle of your room with his hands in the pockets of his sweats. He saw your sigh, the way your body slightly tensed at his words. “You can’t ghost me forever, you know that? Just say what happened and I’ll fix it.” 

You debated for a few seconds because, truthfully, he was right—hiding the truth was pointless. It only made you stress more than you would’ve preferred, and it was probably better to rip the bandage off and deal with Rafe’s reaction. 

Before you could think of a better way to say it, you had already rolled over, sitting at the edge of the bed, facing him, as the words instantly slid off your tongue. “I’m pregnant.”

He blinked once. Twice. His mouth slightly opened as his eyes burned a hole in your face, and your stomach tightened with anxiety. You expected Rafe to get angry, storm away, start screaming—anything. But you didn’t expect to see a one-sided grin spreading across his face.

“You’re pregnant? With my kid?” He stepped closer, being dangerously calm and relaxed, as if it was something casual, something he actually anticipated. 

“Whose else would it be?”

“Shit, baby.” Just like that, Rafe was kneeling in front of you, shirtless, spreading your thighs enough to make some room for him. His eyes were dark, roaming over your body, fixating on your belly, even if he couldn’t even see it through the shirt. Your mouth went dry and you felt your heart beating faster because you couldn’t quite understand what was going on.

He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss. He was greedy, missing the way you tasted after you ignored him for so long. Your hands grabbed his forearms, barely able to keep up with his sudden wild pace. You moaned into his mouth, not even sure yourself whether you wanted to push him away and ask what was happening or push him closer to release some pent-up tension. 

“You think I didn’t want it?” Rafe growled against your lips, pushing you back down on the bed and crawling up your body, until he was fully seated in between your thighs, his cock painfully hand against you. “You think I didn’t fuck you raw every time because I wanted to pull out?” Your heart was beating in your ears as pure shock washed over you at his words. Rafe didn’t stop though, didn’t even let you process it, as his hands were already pushing your shorts and panties down your legs. 

“Rafe, what—“

“I wanted to knock you up.” You felt his grin against the skin of your neck, his hands working on pulling his own pants down, too eager to feel you wrapped around him again. 

Your breath stuttered. “What?”

“You heard me. You wanted it too, didn’t you?” Rafe whispered, slightly pulling away and settling in between your legs. He smiled at the sight of your bare and slick pussy, seeing how you unconsciously parted your legs for him like you always did. Like your body knew what you needed even before you could process it. His hands were trailing up your sides like he’s already imagining them swelling. “You think I didn’t notice when you stopped asking me to pull out? Think I didn’t clock that little pout when I grabbed a condom that one time?”

“Rafe—”

“You wanted it. Just like I did. You liked the idea of me ruining you for everyone else. Of me making you mine.” He mumbled, grabbing his cock and dragging it up your soaked slit, then pressing further and sliding into your perfect wet hole. 

You should’ve pushed him away, should’ve yelled at him, but instead your eyes rolled back at the familiar stretch, your legs moving up on instinct to wrap around his hips. 

“Fuck, baby.” Rafe groaned, bottoming out with a sharp snap of his hips, like he belonged there, like he’d made it home in you months ago and now he was just settling back in. “You feel tighter. S’cause of the baby, huh?”

You whimpered, your hands clawing at his back, the words catching in your throat, unable to form any coherent thought. You hadn’t touched him in more than a week, hadn’t let him this close, and now he was inside you, stretching you the way he used to every night, making your body feel like it was floating.

“I knew it.” He rasped, biting softly at your jaw, your cheek, anywhere he could leave a mark. “Knew I did something to you. You kept coming back to me like a little addict, all needy and sweet, and now look—” He looked down, pushing your t-shirt up to show your still-flat belly, his eyes going up and down from it to the way your pussy was swallowing his cock. 

You gasped, nails digging into his back, as he picked up the pace, pounding into you until the bed creaked under your bodies. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t need to think.” His voice dropped to a growl. “I was already planning it. Dreamed about this. Knockin’ you up so you’d never leave. So you’d have to be mine.”

The words hit you the way you didn’t expect, with your core separately tightening around him and dragging a ragged growl from his lips. You were panting now, your legs trembling, the burn of it all nearly too much.

“Say it.” He grunted, thrusts growing sharper, rougher, making you whimper helplessly. “Say you wanted it. Say you wanted me to fill you up.”

“I wanted it.” You cried out, body arching beneath him, the truth spilling just like your tears. “I wanted you…fuck! Rafe, I wanted you.”

He kissed you hard for that, swallowing every sound, every breath, holding your face so you couldn’t move away. “That’s my girl.” He rasped, forehead pressed to yours. “Fuckin’ meant to get you pregnant.”

Your walls clenched around him so tight he choked on a moan.

“Meant to make you mine. Knew the second you let me hit it raw, it was over. Knew your body wanted this.”

“Rafe, I—I can’t—” You whimpered, dragging your nails down his sweaty spine, pleasure crashing over you in a sudden wave, your body giving in before your mind could even catch up.

“That’s it.” He gasped, pushing his cock into you in another sharp thrust that was borderline painful, pace faltering as he chased his own high, face buried in your neck. “Gonna fuck you through it. Gonna come so deep you’ll feel it in your fuckin’ belly.”

And then, as your body started convulsing in shocks, you felt the warmth flooding your insides. Rafe’s hips jerked against you, filling you with cum and then fucking it into you until all you could do was whimper at the feeling. His body went still, pressed heavy against yours, his arms trembling as they held you close.

For a long second, the room was silent but for the sound of your breathing. Then he kissed your cheek, soft this time, lingering.

“You’re not sleeping in your room anymore.” He whispered, brushing your hair off your face. “I don’t care if we’re just roommates, friends, or whatever bullshit label we gave it before. I’m taking care of you from now on.” He touched your stomach slowly this time, then looked up at you with a crooked smile. “You’re mine. Both of you.”

[otakusheep15]

Leona Kingscholar NS/FW Alphabet

Dedicated to my best friend @cwairedasimp who is absolutely insane about this man. I hope I was able to do him justice.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s definitely cuddly, and he prefers to just stay in bed and rest. That being said, if you needed him to get you anything, he would without question. Leona would also enjoy a bath after, as he loves non-sexual intimacy just as much as sexual intimacy. Once he’s relaxed though, he’s asleep immediately. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On his body, Leona really likes his hair. As lazy as he can seem on occasion, he puts a lot of effort into maintaining his hair. For any lion beastmen, especially men, hair is a source of pride, and he always wants his to be as well-kept as possible. Plus, he knows he has nice hair that attracts people, which is a bonus. On you, he likes your hands. Unlike his, your hands don’t cause destruction. They hold him so gently, almost like he’s made of glass. He’s never been held like that before, and it makes him crumble like the sand he creates with his hands. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man cums a lot. Like, it’s kind of insane. Unfortunately, Leona doesn’t have the best diet, so the texture and taste can be off putting, but if you complain about it, he’ll try to eat foods that make it better, like pineapple. He prefers to cum inside if you allow him, but he’s fine with cumming on you as well. He just needs his cum to be touching you somehow. It’s like a mark. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Very into scents and sweat. For one, he just thinks you look good when you’re sweaty and panting, especially if you just got done doing some kind of sport or physical labor. Besides that, he has a very strong sense of smell, and your scent is his favorite. If there’s a certain perfume or lotion you wear, he always makes sure you have it in stock. He also likes it when you smell like him, so he’ll constantly lend you his clothes. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced in the slightest. This man is afraid of intimacy and commitment, so he’s never been with anyone before you. Leona will come off as all confident and cocky during your first time, but he’s freaking out internally. He definitely knows enough about sex to make you feel good, but you’re his first time actually being with another person. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has two, and they’re both pretty basic. The first one is you on top of him, whether it be normal cowgirl or reverse. He likes to hold onto your hips or thighs while you bounce on top of him, occasionally thrusting up into you to make you falter. The other position is the mating press. He saves this one for when he’s feeling especially possessive or feral. He likes how much power it gives him over you, plus he gets a perfect view of your face. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This man is so serious. He leaves zero room for being goofy. In general, Leona is normally a rather serious person, and it’s rare for him to crack a joke, and that definitely translates in bed for him. That being said, if you tend to be silly in bed, he wouldn’t mind too much. He probably just wouldn’t join you. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As stated before, Leona is very well-groomed. Despite the laziness he sometimes displays, he likes to take care of himself. He’s not fully shaved or anything, but he keeps himself as trimmed as he can manage. His hair grows fast pretty much everywhere, so it’s constant upkeep for him. And yes, the carpet does match the drapes. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Leona takes a lot of time to warm up to you, even after you’ve had sex a couple of times. At first, he’s quiet and on the rougher side, as he’s afraid of being too soft or getting too intimate. However, once he’s comfortable, he’s very romantic and sweet. He’s still rough if you want him to be, but he’s sweeter about it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely, if ever, masturbates. Leona doesn’t see the point in masturbation. It doesn’t bring him much pleasure and it just feels like a waste to him. He hates the idea even more after he starts being intimate with you. Now, if he’s ever feeling horny, he’ll just go to you. The only time he masturbates is if you ask him to send you a video of him doing so, in which case he does so happily. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As mentioned before, he has a sweat/scent kink. He also has a praise kink, both giving and receiving, as well as a degradation kink, but only giving. He likes the idea of exhibitionism, but he never actually wants to have sex in front of people. He more so likes the idea of showing you off and proving you’re his, which he can do in other ways that don’t involve public indecency. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Leona is basic and just likes his bedroom. It’s a safe space for him where he feels comfortable to let his walls down. It’s also one of the only places he knows you won’t be interrupted. After a couple times, he’ll also start feeling comfortable having sex in your room as well. Besides that, he might occasionally make out with you in a storage closet, but he would be very hesitant to go all the way outside of his or your room. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You initiating. Sometimes, he can get a bit insecure, so having you express your desires for him is a big turn-on. Even if you’re shy about it, you just wanting him does something to his brain. Confidence is another turn-on, but being shy is not a knock against you, as he finds shyness cute as well. He just likes knowing you actually like him and want to be intimate with him. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing. If you’re polyamorus, Leona most likely would not date you. He is possessive, and he’s in constant fear of being in second place. If you ever suggested a threesome or an open relationship, he would be afraid of being replaced. He wants to know that he’s the most important person in your life and that you only want him. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both fairly equally. Giving you head boosts his confidence, as he likes that he’s able to make you feel good. It does take him a bit to figure out exactly what you like, but he’s attentive and can easily pick up on whatever you like or dislike. As for him receiving, he enjoys it a lot. It’s another way to show him you want him and you want to make him feel good. He especially loves it when you directly ask to give him head. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Leona can be both. Most of the time he’s on the rougher side, especially when your relationship first starts. As he settles in and gets more comfortable, he finds himself wanting to be gentler with you. After a while, he’ll start referring to you, asking what kind of pace you’d prefer. If you don’t have a preference, he’ll default to a rougher pace 95% of the time. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dislikes quickies for the most part. Sex is not a casual thing to Leona, and he wants his intimacy with you to be sacred. He likes to take his time with you, building up to your orgasms. A quickie takes all of that care and intimacy away, in his opinion, and he would rather not. If you’re really desperate for a quickie, he’d be willing to give you head or use his fingers on you, but he wouldn’t go much farther than that. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Leona is down to experiment. You’re his first experience with sex in general, so he’s basically a fresh slate. If you’re more experienced than he is, he’s more than happy to try out your kinks and see what he likes. If you’re inexperienced like he is, he’s more than willing to try anything you’re interested in. He definitely won’t like everything you try out, but he could never say no to you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It depends on the day for him. Sometimes, when he’s having one of his down days, he can only go for one round - maybe two if you’re on top. Otherwise, if he’s in a better mood, he’s got plenty of stamina. He’s an athlete in great shape, so you know he has plenty of stamina to spare. He can go for hours without stopping if you let him. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Leona does not like toys very much. It’s mostly a pride thing, as he doesn’t want to have to rely on a toy to please you when he knows he can on his own. That being said, if you have a specific toy you’re into or want to try, he’d begrudgingly try it out with you. The closest he might get to actually enjoying toys is using ropes/silk/ribbons for tying you or himself up. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The BIGGEST tease you’ll ever meet. He loves to rile you up and leave you on the edge. He’ll always let you orgasm eventually, but it takes him forever to do so. He loves you a lot, but he also expresses his love through teasing. Even before sex, he’ll be all over you - holding your waist, sliding his hand up your thigh, whispering all of his dirty thoughts in your ear - anything to get you to react. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s on the quieter side. Lots of grunting and small moans, but nothing louder than that. Leona isn’t much of a talker either, but he’ll speak up more if you mention you like it. It’s not that he’s being quiet on purpose; he’s just not very loud in general, and that follows him into the bedroom. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

My headcanon is that I am a transfem butch Leona truther. I love the idea of transfem Leona. I don’t exactly remember where I first found the headcanon, but it was either here on Tumblr or on ao3. It helps that I’m also trans, so I headcanon most of my faves as trans. I also believe that beastmen have genitalia that match their animal counterparts similarly to their ears and tails, but since not everyone agrees with that, I’ll just leave that headcanon here. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Muscular from working out and playing sports. Lots of calluses, especially on his hands. A lot of scars as well, also mostly from minor sports injuries. He’s hairy, as most lion beastmen and women are. He does his best to keep it neat and clean, but his hair does grow fast. His dick is larger than average, both in length and thickness. It’s veiny too, and uncut as well. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before dating you, his sex drive is in the negatives. He rarely thinks about sex, and even when he does, he has no desire for it. However, after he starts dating you and being intimate with you, his libido skyrockets. Ideally, he likes to have sex with you once or twice a week, sometimes more depending on his mood. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very quickly. Despite the high amount of stamina, he falls asleep quick. As stated before, he will be more than happy to run you a bath or grab you a snack after sex, but his favorite thing is to just flop next to you and cuddle until he falls asleep.

[cueloki]

Midgard wide web: TBR

Loki gets on the internet and makes quite a few discoveries in the process.

Wordcount: 2372

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Loki the explorer; Loki discovers social media and smut, unsupervised use of internet, credit card fraud (sorry)

A/N: I really want that book with the pretty illustrations. | divider credit: firefly-graphics

Loki wasn’t someone who particularly wanted to develop mortal habits. Knowing about them was one thing, picking them up himself was another.

The only problem was he fell in love with a mortal and now he wanted to understand the weird things humans do, to understand you; your peculiar humor and quirks. 

He wanted to show you he cared about the stuff you cared about, no matter its level of importance. 

In an effort to do just that he asked if you could help him sign up for social media. 

You were a little surprised. Loki never showed anything but disdain for socials before but you figured he simply caved to curiosity so you guided him through setting up accounts.

First he explored instagram and your dms filled with countless cute animal videos and funny posts. Next he discovered the wonders of stan twitter where people begged him for a tiny bit of his attention on the daily. His little ‘Daggerians’ as he named them wanted to know more about him. They tweeted questions at him left and right and it was all very innocent at first…

“Darling, someone asked me what my favorite ‘me me’ is. What's a ‘me me’?” “A me-me? … OH, you mean a meme!”

Until it wasn’t. 

“Darling, I have ligma?” “Loki, I am not falling for that.” “Pardon?” “I know it's a trick.” “I don't understand. Somebody told me I have ligma.” “Who told you that?” “A Daggerian! What’s ligma?” “Oh baby, I hate to be the one to tell you but… It's a set up, they want you to ask what ligma is so they can say ligma balls.” “...” “As in lick my–” “Yes, I get it!” “...” “...” “...” “That is no way to talk to a god!”

That was the day Loki learned about the block button and some poor unfortunate soul got the privilege of being the first on his blocklist. 

Loki didn't take kindly to tricking attempts, especially unoriginal ones. Unfortunately his fans were just as mischievous as him so they tried their luck in pranking the god. You had to stifle your laughter as he scarcely avoided a taste of his own medicine…

The questions about internet culture kept popping up and even though you told him a lot of what he asked about would be answered with a quick google search, he insisted he preferred your explanations.

Eventually the novelty of the ‘stupid bird app’ wore off but most of all Loki tired of stan twitter’s shenanigans. Needing a break, he decided to sign up on tiktok and hide out there. 

That very first day after hours of scrolling he ended up watching a book review of the latest book everyone on booktok was obsessed with.

“This is quite explicit in its topics.” He hummed. It was full of taboos, violence but most importantly, it was packaged with a hefty set of steamy scenes. You would know. You had read it.

“It's a spicy dark romance book.” You explained. You were curled up on the couch with him, sketching in your journal and vaguely paying attention to what he was watching.

He paused the video. “A spicy book?” He narrowed his eyes as his fingers kept idly tracing your upper thigh.

“Mhm, like you know… it has smut.” Your hand stilled as you stopped drawing and peered up at him.

“What’s a smut?” His face scrunched.

“Not a smut, just smut. It's sex scenes.” You chuckled at his evident confusion. You weren't used to Loki being the one out of his element, it was usually you.

“Do you read those kinds of novels?” He had asked.

“Sometimes.”

And that's what kickstarted it all. In the coming weeks your boyfriend was catching up with all the books booktok raved about, consuming smut like it was the very air he needed to breathe.  

“Darling, this is awfully kinky. We don’t have anything like it on Asgard.” He commented while reading the first one on your kindle. 

After getting through it he decided you ‘needed to start getting physical copies again to save your eyesight and get the proper reading experience’ but really you knew it was because he preferred to read that way and as you agreed – for his sake – all hell broke loose.

Three months later he barged in while you were getting some work done on your computer. By this point Loki had built his own dark romance book collection, filling up multiple shelves and it was anything but innocent. 

He roped you in as well.

“I think you'll enjoy this one,” He smirked as he placed another book he finished onto the desk of your home office. “Enemies to lovers and it has touch her and die.”

“I can't believe you pitch me books with tropes now. Booktok owes me compensation for teaching you these things. You've been corrupted!” You teased him gleefully. He leaned onto the desk with his forearms, cocking an amused brow. You picked up the book and examined the pretty cover with the gold foil details. As you turned it around you noticed the sprayed edges.

“Special edition? It's pretty. Where did you get it?” You mused before your eyes flicked up to his.

“Last month I signed us up for a subscription box… or… a few… Under your name. This was the first one that arrived.” He explained.

You hummed, continuing to admire the book’s design until his words sank in and your head shot up. 

“Wait, did you say a few? On my card?” Your eyes widened.

“Of course not. Stark’s.” He smiled proudly.

“That explains it.” You nodded, worry melting away slightly. “Should I even ask how you have his credit card information? Probably not right?” You pursed your lips.

He shook his head. “Best not to make you an accomplice, darling.” 

You snorted. “Okay well, thanks, my love,” You reached to put the book away but he stopped you.

“No, this one should skip to the top of your TBR. Open it.” He urged fervently.

So you did. Only to discover a breathtaking illustration of a woman, her body covered by nothing but Rapunzel-long hair. She was riding on a white horse while a raven haired man was depicted walking beside her. From far away he kind of resembled Loki even down to his clothes.

“I think he's gorgeous, don't you?” Loki grinned smugly. “She as well… Reminds me of you.”

“Does she now?” You asked dully, presenting a facade of disinterest though you knew he saw right through you.

“If you take off your clothes right now she does.” He shot you a mischievous wink.

You laughed. Your heart still skipped a beat even when his flirting was silly.

“Get out of my office you dork, I have work to do!”

Loki straightened and raised up his hands in defense. “Alright alright, what do you want for lunch?” He smiled softly.

You spun in your chair and placed the book onto the growing stack behind you. 

“Surprise me,” you returned his smile.

As much as you tried you couldn’t keep up with the pace Loki read books. 

That didn't seem to matter to him at all. With his impeccable memory as soon as you finished one he'd be eager to discuss it with you. You'd be lying if you said you weren’t happy to share this with him even if it meant giving up the comfort of your kindle.

What you could never foresee was how engaged Loki became with booktok during all of this. He was in the depths of it then one day his algorithm spiraled onto the fandom side of tiktok…

“Darling, what's tumblr?” He asked.

You paused typing on your laptop and slowly exited out of your fanfic wip document, peeking over the screen at him from your side of the couch. 

“Blogging site, has a lot of art, fandom communities… Why?”

“Seems like something you’d enjoy. Are you on it?” He tilted his head curiously.

You hadn't exactly shared that part of your life with him yet but you couldn’t in good conscience lie about it. You wanted to be honest in your relationship. And it's not like he would know what was on your tumblr.

“Yeah, yeah… I'm on it.” You admitted. And then came the question that made you wish the ground swallowed you whole.

“May I see your account?” He was completely serious too.

“Oh baby, it's such an old blog, it'd be cringy to look at.” You tried to divert Loki from his idea.

It wasn’t solely about cringe. Fact of the matter was you’d have no problem with him seeing your blog if it wasn’t also littered with hundreds thousands of Loki fics you had reblogged back in the day before you two got together… when you had a hopeless crush on him and were indulging. Which was embarrassing enough on its own. But that wasn't the worst of it… 

The truth was you had found yourself writing your own Loki fanfic pieces. If you could call it fanfic. The stuff you had posted was borderline real event recounts and you had no idea how he'd react to that.

“Alright, my love.” He shrugged and dropped the topic suspiciously fast, going back to tapping on his phone. 

Relieved that he didn't press you about it, you didn’t question it at the time and simply thought that was that. And everything was fine…

Until the next day when he barged into your office in the middle of your work day. 

“There's smut of me on tumblr! So much of it!” He exclaimed in delight.

Guess cat’s out of the bag.

You cleared your throat and looked up from your screen. “That's nice, sweetheart,” You smiled. “But I have a meeting in–”

“No, darling, you have to see this, it's impressively accurate!” He crossed the room in quick strides and handed you his phone. 

He leaned against your desk as he waited patiently. You watched how his fingers tightened around the desk’s border then finally scanned the post on his phone. Immediately you recognized it as one of your own. You tried to push down your internal panic as you glanced up at him. His expression was blank.

Does he know? Either way you probably have to come clean.

You bit your bottom lip and discarded his phone on the desk. 

“Is this a joke?” You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking. He cocked an eyebrow. You hesitated, unable to read how much he already knew but then you gave in, confession leaving your lips, coaxed out by his silence.

“That's my blog. How did you find it?” 

He crossed his arms and smirked. “And here I was so sure I would have to extract the truth out of you because you wouldn't admit it. My darling, pray tell, what other secrets do you keep from me?” His eyes twinkled with mirth.

You rolled your eyes and got up. “I told you I didn't want you to look at it.” You wrinkled your nose. You knew this would be revealed at some point so you weren’t necessarily mad, just blindsided.

“I wasn’t searching for it, I happened to stumble onto it.” His hands landed on your hips, pulling you closer. Your arms snaked around his neck without hesitation as you relaxed into his touch. 

“Happened to? How'd you know it was mine, Mischief?” You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically.

“Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that the writing’s akin to a page out of your journal or perhaps the fact you made your username our inside joke?” He laughed.

Your cheeks warmed up. Okay, in hindsight, you understood how it would be obvious to him.

“Stop reading my journal, nosy god–”

“If you didn’t want me to know you’d hide it better–”

You quirked a threatening eyebrow at him. 

“Apologies my darling, continue.” He smiled sheepishly.

“I’ll take it down, the smut.” You declared offhandedly. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable because you’d splashed your intimate details onto the hellsite.

“You will do no such thing.” His eyes darkened as his fingers dug into your skin possessively. 

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 

“You like it that people know what we do together, what your god does to you, you get off on it, don't you?” His voice lowered.

You snickered, ignoring the heat that shot to your core. “Okay Mr. Dark romance, I see you've learned some new tricks.” 

He lifted you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. “Maybe you'll even get to write about them on your blog.” He whispered huskily in your ear.

to be continued…?

→          BONUS

ONE MONTH AGO

“How the hell– This is completely busted.” Tony mumbled to himself as he examined the malfunctioning part of his new invention. “Jarvis, order a new one. Product number…” He squinted at the almost too small font. “6L0R10VS” He read off the sequence.

“On it sir.”

Minutes passed and Tony’s lab filled with a haunting silence, he tapped his foot and looked to the ceiling as if talking to god himself and not just Jarvis. 

“What’s taking so long?” He complained.

“I’m sorry sir, it looks like their website doesn’t let artificial intelligence access it.” The synthetic voice announced.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tony groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

He walked over to his desk and slumped into his chair that let out a weary squeak from years of abuse. “Gotta do everything myself,” He grumbled to himself as he pulled up the website and looked for a new part. If Jarvis had feelings he might have been offended at the notion. 

Tony tried to get it over with as fast as possible so he could get back to tinkering soon. He rolled his eyes when he tried to check out his cart and the site he used regularly didn't have his information saved anymore.

With a sigh he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his wallet and got to entering his credit card details.

Loki smirked in the shadows. This will set him up nicely for those book box subscriptions.

[sunandflame]

NSFW Alphabet - Rob Lucci

Warnings: nsfw

Word Count: 1184

Pairing: Rob Lucci x Reader

crossposted on AO3

A = Aftercare Afterward, he’s not one for soft words or coddling. His aftercare is more about maintaining his presence—his weight beside you, the feeling of his hand on your skin. He’ll run a finger over the marks he’s left, as if to remind you that you’re his. He might clean you up, but it's efficient, calculated. He checks you, makes sure you’re taken care of, but his focus never wavers. If you need something more, he'll provide it—silent, controlled, but always there.

B = Body Part (favourite) Your neck. It’s instinctual—primal. The scent, the softness, the sound of your pulse under his tongue... it awakens something in him that he doesn’t fully understand, nor tries to. He lingers there more than anywhere else: breathing you in, nipping, teasing, pressing his lips against the artery just to feel the thrum beneath. When he’s buried inside you, you can feel him lean in closer, licking or mouthing at the spot just to hear your breathing hitch. And when he feels vulnerable—rare, but real—he hides his face in the crook of your neck, like a beast curling into its den. It’s the place he claims first and most often. Not for show. For instinct.

C = Cum Possessive. He doesn’t care where—on your stomach, chest, or dripping out of you—but you’ll be marked. Inside is his preference. He likes seeing the proof of himself in you.

D = Dirty Talk Low, growling filth. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does? It's devastating. “Say my name,” “Look at me when I ruin you,” or even just a commanding “Now.”

E = Experience Very experienced. He’s had partners—usually casual, sometimes transactional—but few ever get past the physical. If you do, that’s a rare privilege.

F = Favorite Position He enjoys you beneath him in the mating press, your legs pinned, his weight pressing down on you, eyes locked as he claims you completely. He likes seeing the way your face twists with every movement, his hand either on your neck or your hip, controlling the pace. But just as often, he prefers you on all fours—from behind. The view of you like that drives him wild, where he can hold you in place, control every thrust, every gasp. It’s about the power he has over you, the unspoken claim that only deepens with every moment.

G = Goofy Not at all. Lucci is intense and focused. If you laugh, he’ll raise a brow and smirk faintly, but only to throw you off before flipping you over.

H = Hair Groomed. Chest hair is non-existent. Below the belt, he trims but doesn’t shave. He doesn’t care for vanity—function over form.

I = Intimacy Rare, but when it appears, it’s wordless. A hand to the small of your back, a steady gaze as he finishes inside you, the way he lets his guard down just enough to hold you after.

J = Jack-Off He does, but not often—he has a soldier’s discipline. If he’s thinking of you, though, it’s intense and quiet, a hand over his mouth, jaw clenched.

K = Kinks Control. Every part of him is rooted in dominance—he doesn’t just want to fuck you, he wants to own you. D/s dynamics are at his core, and he thrives when you're obedient because you want to be.

Breeding kink. It’s biological, raw. The idea of filling you, knotting you to him with something that lasts—leaves him breathless in ways he won’t say aloud. Seeing you fucked full and trembling? It satisfies something ancient.

Predator/prey play. He loves the chase—your startled gasp, the way you run, knowing you want to be caught. It brings out his inner beast, makes the eventual capture all the more intoxicating.

Obsessive protector vibes. Not a kink in the usual sense, but once you're his, he watches everything: who you talk to, what you wear, even the shift in your tone when someone else says your name. You may never catch him saying it outright, but the possessiveness coils around your spine like smoke. And if you play with that—test the limits, tease the line? That’s when the beast bares its teeth, and you’re in for it.

L = Location Prefers private places—hotel rooms, his quarters, somewhere he can fully own you. But if he gets impatient? Somewhere dark and semi-public, where he can muffle your sounds.

M = Motivation Control, lust, and tension. He gets turned on by seeing your obedience or how easily you fall apart under him. The more composed you usually are, the more he craves your ruin.

N = No He’s not into degrading humiliation (unless you ask for it), sharing, or anything too chaotic. Lucci needs control—not mess.

O = Oral (Receiving/Giving) Receiving: He’s silent, watching you like prey. No praise—just the weight of his hand on your head, the quiet threat of him holding you there. He finishes without warning. It’s not affection. It’s a claim.

Giving: He doesn’t do it to be kind. He does it because he’s starving. Buries himself between your thighs like a beast at a kill, obsessed with your taste, your scent, the way your body jerks. If you beg him to stop, he doesn’t—not until the trembling starts. And if his Zoan tongue comes into play? You won’t be speaking when he’s done. It’s not just about making you come. It’s about satisfying the beast—and that takes time.

P = Pace Calculated. He starts slow to torment you, but when he breaks, it’s punishing—deep, hard thrusts that make you forget everything but him.

Q = Quickies Yes, especially when he’s on a mission. He’ll pull you aside, lift you like you weigh nothing, and take what he needs. Fast, filthy, and dominant.

R = Risk Measured risk turns him on. Semi-public, silent-in-a-meeting-room type encounters, or letting you tease him in a dangerous setting… he gets off on restraint.

S = Stamina Inhuman. He can go for multiple rounds, barely winded. His Zoan abilities give him a beast’s endurance—and appetite.

T = Toys He prefers using his hands and body, but if he does use toys, they’re precision tools—like remote-controlled vibrators or restraints. You will be his experiment.

U = Unfair Cruelly. Teases you to tears and won’t let you come until he decides. He enjoys making you beg, especially if you’re normally independent or mouthy.

V = Volume Quiet. He growls, grunts, whispers sharp orders. The occasional deep moan if you do something unexpected that shatters his control.

W = Wild Card In Zoan form, his instincts intensify. He tries to stay restrained, but if he lets go? Expect dominance, biting, and total physical overwhelm. It's not often—but unforgettable.

X = X-Ray Thick, veined, and long—more than average. He knows how to use it. And he will use it to stretch you just to see your reaction.

Y = Yearning Silently intense. He won’t voice it, but if he wants you, you’ll feel it in every lingering stare, every gloved touch, every unreadable silence in a locked room.

Z = Zzz (Sleep) Sleeps light, usually facing the door. But if you’ve just spent the night together? He’ll allow you to sleep on his chest. Just don’t expect cuddles every time.

My babygurl @auryborealis reminded me (luckily!) that today is Rob Lucci's birthday! So Happy Birthday my evil hot pigeon boy!

[concretejunglefm]

some bestfriend!noah for @1toreyouapart, inspired by this 💕

CW: includes mentions of nipple play/biting, spit for lube, handjob, a little soft dirty talk.

NSFW'ish below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Me next!” Noah chimes, leaning in as he watches you delicately pluck your brows, shaping them back into your preferred look.

“Are you going to stay still this time?” You shoot a brief look over your shoulder at him, and he scoffs.

“When am I not still?”

“Uh.” Your jaw drops, a little flabbergasted as you turn to look at him. “All the time? It’s always ‘me next,’ and then I spend ten minutes trying to hold your head still because you’re too much of a wuss.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect? It hurts!”

“Why ask me to do it, then?”

“Because I gotta look good.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff, rolling your eyes as you glance back at the mirror to finish off the final hairs. “Yeah? For who—your imaginary girlfriend?”

You catch sight of him in the corner of the mirror, mocking you, and the corner of your mouth twitches. It always amuses you when you manage to get under his skin—just enough to make him lose steam in your usual banter and instead resort to childlike antics.

“Come here then.” You beckon him toward you, watching the way he wiggles his brows.

You shake your head with a soft laugh. “If you’re trying to be seductive, it’s not working,” you tease. His face drops into that familiar, offended expression, which only amuses you more. You love teasing him, especially when he gets all pouty.

“Oh, look at you, all pouty.” You reach in to pinch his cheek, and he’s quick to swat your hand away.

“Yeah, yeah, just come on. Make me look pretty.” He runs a large, tattooed hand back through his hair, trying to push it out of the way, then leans his head forward as he shuffles along the bed, inching closer to you.

You let out a deep breath. “Well, now I can’t perform miracles.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, but you catch the way he peeks out from one of his now-closed eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking into a teasing smirk.

Gripping his chin, you attempt to hold him in place, lifting the pair of tweezers to his brows, but before you can even get close, he quickly pulls back.

“Noah,” you murmur softly, though there’s a hint of warning in your tone—he’s already testing your patience.

“Sorry, I wasn’t ready.” He drops his shoulders, trying to relax the tension in his body before bracing himself again, eyes screwing shut.

For a brief moment, you just watch him. He seems either genuinely pained or convinced you’re about to hurt him, but then your eyes flicker to his lips—you notice how he wets them in anticipation, then nervously nibbles at his lower lip.

Moving your hand, you run your fingers back through his hair, gently pushing it away while subtly anchoring him in place. You shift slightly, moving closer—almost climbing into his lap—and, as if in sync, like he senses your nearness, his hands rise to settle at your waist to steady you.

You murmur a soft, “Thanks,” and his hands squeeze your waist in silent acknowledgment, a gesture that stirs a low, bubbling heat in your belly.

Being this close to him always has a way of getting under your skin, and though you both manage to maintain the illusion of control, you flirt with the line between friendship and something more far too often.

You manage to pluck the first hair before he tries to pull away, letting out a loud “Ow!”—and just like that, the spell you’d been under seconds ago is shattered.

“God, you big baby.” You roll your eyes and try to pull him back into place, but he leans away slightly.

“It hurt! You need to be gentler,” he whines, and you can’t help but roll your eyes again.

“It’s not my fault your hair is hard to pull out.” That makes you laugh, and you almost feel bad for finding his pain funny. You remember the first time you started plucking your own brows and how much you used to complain, but at least years of experience had built up some tolerance.

You try again, but he moves once more.

“If you keep moving, I swear I’m going to stick your head down on my lap.”

And just like that, he shifts again. You release his hair from your grip with an exasperated sigh before shuffling further back on the bed.

“Okay, lay back. Head here.” You gesture to your lap and wait for him to follow instructions. Noah obliges, tucking his head against your thighs and looking up at you with a cheeky grin.

“You think I’ll behave now?”

“You’d better.” You try to hold his head in place as you lean forward slightly—only to feel him move again.

“If I pop my tit in your mouth, will it stop you from moving and whining?”

It’s a joke—a crude one, the kind you’re no stranger to making. The two of you are always flirting along that line, but something about this one pushes it over completely, especially the moment he says, “Yes.”

His eyes hold a challenge, a cheeky grin etched across his face and beneath it, an unmissable heat.

You should scoff. Should give him some “in your dreams” kind of response, but instead, you actually go through with it.

You tug down the tank top you’re wearing, your breast slipping free from the fabric, and with his mouth already open, tongue peeking out expectantly, you slide your other hand beneath his head and guide him up.

For a brief moment, time stretches—like a game of chicken—until you feel it: the warm press of his tongue against you.

You gasp as it circles your nipple, feeling it harden under his gentle caress. Your eyes flutter closed, lost in the electricity blooming through your body the moment his mouth closes around you, a soft, satisfied hum vibrating against your skin. Your fingers thread through his hair, encouraging him gently, and you feel a moan rise in your throat as he tests the waters—his teeth grazing, just barely, against the sensitive bud.

When your eyes open, you glance down at him. His eyes are half-lidded, barely peering up at you from beneath his long lashes.

“Maybe now you’ll be good for me,” you whisper, bringing the tweezers back to his brows.

You pluck one—clean, quick—and feel his tongue flick gently against your nipple in response, followed by a soft hum that vibrates through your breast.

You go again, drawing another hair, and he lets out a low sound, his mouth tightening just slightly around you. It’s the third one that gets him—a more sensitive spot—and the moment you tug it free, he bites down, not hard, but enough to make you jolt.

Your breath catches. A soft gasp leaves your lips as his teeth graze your nipple, a wicked little punishment wrapped in pleasure.

“You brat,” you murmur, trying not to smile as you steady your hand again, but he just smirks against you, clearly unrepentant, and gives your nipple another teasing nip the next time you pluck a particularly stubborn hair.

The push and pull between you is palpable now, pain and pleasure trading hands, soft and sharp, teasing and intimate.

When you glance down briefly, you can’t help but notice the way a bulge has formed at the front of his shorts, the fabric strained tight around it. Heat blooms low in your belly at the sudden urge to reach down and offer him a little relief, especially now, when he’s finally being good and obedient for you.

Your eyes flick between his face, so focused, his mouth and tongue working diligently at your nipple—soothing the previous pain inflicted by his nip—and the bulge beneath him as you slowly reach down.

Your fingers tease along his bare thigh when you reach it, skimming just beneath the hem of his shorts and the way they ride up so high. You’ve teased him before about wearing them—called them his slutty shorts, his “fuck-me” shorts—and now, all you can really think about is pulling him out of them to do exactly that.

He doesn’t stop or pull away when your fingers start to tease higher, brushing along the seam and feeling the outline of him, the thick, hard length of him pressed tight against the fabric. Instead, he lets out another hum, something that sounds like approval, and then you feel the brush of his teeth again, making you gasp, a moan tumbling from your lips.

You take that as his sign to hurry up, and under any other circumstances, you might have teased him for it, made him earn it, but this time, you follow his silent request.

You push the waistband of his shorts down, and he lifts his hips to help, letting you tug both his shorts and boxers down in one smooth motion. You watch as his cock springs free. It’s bigger than you could’ve imagined, and you’ve imagined it a lot. You’ve felt it enough, pressed up against your back when you’ve shared a bed, caught glimpses of the outline when he wore something too tight in the privacy of your home, but nothing prepared you for the sight of it now, and you swear your mouth waters.

You shake your head, trying to pull your focus back as your hand wraps around him, slowly stroking up the length to the tip. You squeeze gently, watching as a trickle of precum slips from the head and rolls down along the shaft. It’s a pretty sight—almost too pretty—and you feel the vein beneath your touch, the way it throbs with every slow, deliberate stroke. You draw it out on purpose, savoring the way he groans against your breast, low and muffled, sending vibrations straight through you.

“Is this what you wanted?” you purr down at him, your voice laced with lust.

His eyes flutter open, gazing up at you with a wanton need—the kind that goes straight to your core and makes your thighs squeeze together, only adding to the ache already building between them.

“Of course it was,” you murmur under your breath. “And you weren’t ever lying about those mouth skills.”

Another moan slips from you as he continues to focus on your nipple, the teasing nip of his teeth sending a direct jolt to your cunt, making you throb and clench around nothing.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your grip tightening around his cock.

You pull your hand back, lifting it to your mouth and spitting into your palm before bringing it back down, rubbing your saliva across the tip, then down along the shaft. His precum mixes with it easily, turning slick beneath your touch as you begin to stroke him, slow and steady, deliberately teasing, working him with the same care he’s giving to you.

You don’t catch the way his eyes widen at the sight of you spitting into your hand, only feel the way he squirms in your lap as you stroke him, his hips bucking involuntarily. He’s quick to try and match your pace, chasing the sensation of your hand wrapped around him—something he’d never admit to thinking about, but has fantasized over more times than he can count.

It feels unreal, almost like a dream. Like he’s imagining this whole scene.

And yet, the line you’ve always tiptoed along—flirting, teasing, testing—it’s been crossed. Even if only slightly, it’s enough to change everything.

It’s Noah who reaches for your top, tugging it down enough to expose your other breast. His hand cups it firmly, kneading it, his thumb brushing over your already hardened nipple before he catches it between his thumb and forefinger—twisting, pinching just enough to make your back arch.

You gasp, a sound that only makes your grip around him tighten as your hand begins to move faster, spurred on by the way he’s pushing you right to the edge. The two of you fall into a rhythm—taunting, toying, testing—each reaction only encouraging the other further.

He can feel it coming, the white-hot coil tightening low in his stomach, the edges of his vision starting to blur. He wants to tell you, to warn you somehow, but he can’t bring himself to let go of your nipple, not with your fingers carding through his hair, massaging his scalp. Not when your voice is a soft, breathy coo of encouragement and praise, coaxing him closer, and then he’s there, his release crashing through him in waves as hot ropes spill from the tip, coating his stomach—where he’d had the foresight to tug his hoodie up—and your hand.

He doesn’t care about the mess, not when he’s a trembling wreck beneath you, your hand refusing to stop, pushing him through the full length of his climax. His hips buck wildly, overstimulated, as you milk him for every last drop until there’s nothing left—just his shallow breath and the aftershocks rippling through his body.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens  @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @kenjipepsi1 @birdie-in-arcadia @blackcherrywhiskey @saythatuwill @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @iconic-taurus @flowery-mess @jesuisunchaton @bloody-spades @bluestdai @respectfulrebel

[wordsfromthymouth]

yours, always

𓇬 jealously is unbecoming, but sometimes unavoidable. and shunsui needs to remind his wife she’s the only one for him 𓇬

‪‪❤︎‬ pairing: shunsui kyoraku x f reader : readers physical description is as non-descriptive as possible for inclusion

< for anon ‪‪❤︎‬ i kinda meshed your request with another idea i had wanted to write about, for me these themes are part and parcel when you are with a man like shunsui. hope you like this, writing it had me bricked tf up >

warnings: 18+ smut. kids don’t fucking read this. light angst, established relationship, traditional themes, reader is jealous, safety’s off (raw), cock warming, crying, pet names, praise, the only thing that pulls out is his couch. word count: 4k

Shunsui was not an aggressive lover, passionate certainly, and above all else, persistent. His yearning adoration for you was always prevalent, like a quiet, simmering hunger. Never sated.

His gaze always found you, in every room, everywhere. Sometimes you'd catch him looking, and you'd see it in his face. He looked at you like it meant I love you.

He told you every chance he got; sometimes, it was with tooth-achingly romantic confessions; other times, it was lustful whispers that made you go hot in the face.

He also loved to touch you, casually or intimately; it didn't matter. For him, it was just another way to show you his love.

He'd play with your hair, hold your hand and draw circles against your palm, rub your back as you fell asleep, or come up behind you and press his face against your neck, breathing in your scent like you were the sweetest-smelling flower.

Almost every night you’d find yourselves wrapped up in one another. Much like his personality, he liked to fuck the same way. Always patient and gentle, he had no qualms about who took charge and never demanded—it was a complete surrender to you.

He was not one for quickies; if it could be avoided, he preferred to draw out your time in bed. A slow, leisurely pleasure, languid touches, and deep kisses. He liked eye contact; at first it made you feel self-conscious, but the way he marvelled over you like a man obsessed, you soon learned to love every second he had his gaze on you.

Sometimes he praised you with sweet words; other times he'd say the filthiest things, but he made them sound like prayers when he spoke to you.

Even those rare times either of you were too tired to fuck, he’d lay you on your side, holding you close against his chest. His scruffy face nuzzled against your neck, skillful hands caressing your body with no real motive.

Slowly, he’d rut his hips against you, sliding back and forth against your core until you were dripping wet. Then, and only then, would he push inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

He wouldn’t move, though; he'd keep himself there, stretching you out to feel comfortably full, and you'd lie in his arms, feeling him breathing slow and deep at your back until you'd both fall asleep. 

It was intense and passionate, borderline addictive. Even after so many years together, those feelings never dwindled. His penchant for slow and steady was one of the things you enjoyed most about him. It taught you to stop and enjoy the little things, you found you were less anxious and more easygoing.

It wasn’t without its criticism, though; as a captain, he was chastised for being too relaxed; few even questioned the decision of him being promoted to head captain. He was often mistaken for being lazy and apathetic, but you saw beyond that.

His humble disposition and easy nature allowed him the ability to choose his moment; he decided what to worry about and what took space in his mind.

He’d worked long and hard to hone his skills over many centuries, becoming an exceptional fighter and problem solver, which gave him the freedom to spend more time enjoying life's pleasures: napping, drinking, playing games, and, of course, fucking. 

The latter had been no secret; even before you had been together, you'd heard plenty of stories from his younger days, chasing women and frequenting the yūkaku district—he'd had his fair share of experience, and it earned him a reputation that made him very popular, especially with other women.

It was to be expected; he was handsome, charming, and had a flirtatious demeanour that drew people in. He was generally well-liked amongst the squads, always friendly and eager to make others feel good with compliments or kind words.

In the early days of your relationship, it was a little difficult for you to stomach. Watching how women fawned over him when he passed or how they batted their eyelashes when he spoke to them made you feel uneasy.

It helped that he seemed to be unfazed or at the very least uninterested in the attention he received from others, and when you finally admitted how you felt, he listened intently.

Never bothered or upset by your feelings, his focus and motivation were only on you and your affections. He may have been a womanizer, but he was also very faithful, and eventually your concerns eased.

But sometimes, no matter how you tried to avoid it, it still secretly irked you.

This day had been one of those days; it started out with a letter. It was early; you and Shunsui had been in his office drinking your morning tea—a daily ritual for you both.

You were reclined in your usual spot, the lounge chair by his desk, while he mulled over his paperwork for the day. He’d been busy sorting through the piles when he noticed something.

"Where'd this come from? I've never seen it before," he said, prompting you to look over to the red envelope he was holding up in his hand.

You couldn't see anything written on the outside of it as he flipped it over; your eyes fell to the sea of papers scattered about his desk, stacked from end to end, and you laughed lightly.

"How can you keep track of anything in that mess of a desk?" you teased, taking a sip of your tea. Shunsui tapped the envelope against one of the stacks of papers, giving you a lazy smile.

"I'm almost certain I don't remember it being here yesterday," he shrugged, ripping open the envelope.

Curious, you stood up and walked around the desk to stand at his side; he absently reached an arm out, wrapping it around your waist, and you leaned in closer to see what it was.

The letter inside was addressed to him, from a member of the fourth squad, Chiyo Nakamura. You thought you recognized the name as one you'd read on the list of new squad admissions from the previous month.

Your eyes skimmed over the neat script and then widened when you saw that it wasn't merely a letter but a romantic confession. 

Your initial reaction was surprise, followed by a tiny, fleeting feeling of jealousy, which didn't last long. It was clear she was unaware of the head captain's marriage, and it was an innocent enough admission, nothing vulgar or flagrant.

You respected that and her nerve—a new squad member, not even at an officer's level, propositioning the head captain took serious guts.

Shunsui let out a huff of air as he set it down, a noise falling somewhere between disbelief and humour.

"You have an admirer," you said, giving him a sideways glance. He laughed, pushing the letter away, and turned to you, his hand reaching for one of yours. 

"Flattery, nothing more. Looks like she hasn't met my beautiful wife yet," he said, giving you his most charming grin. You smiled, and moving to sit in his lap, you pulled him in for a kiss.

That afternoon, the two of you took a walk to the markets. Shunsui was sitting by the sake hut; he sipped on his drink, admiring you from a short distance as you continued walking through, looking at all the goods.

You were looking for a gift for Nanao, and you’d stopped at an inkstand full of beautiful stationery. You then heard some excitable chatter coming from the sake hut, and you looked back to find Shunsui surrounded by a cluster of students from the academy.

They were talking animatedly, and you paid them little mind as you busied yourself with picking out a new inkpot and brush for her.  

After a few minutes you heard them say their goodbyes; some of the girls from the group walked past the inkstand, close enough you could hear their conversation.

“He’s so handsome!” One of them whispered, and the others nodded in agreement.

“I know, I can’t believe it! Oh, I hope I can get into squad one,” another said, clapping her hands together. 

“Do you think he’ll take on another lieutenant? I might apply for that position under him." 

That last comment was more than a little suggestive, and they all giggled amongst themselves. You felt that jealous streak jabbing at your emotions like a sharp knife again, only stronger now, making you feel irritable. You sighed in frustration, and after paying the vendor, you made your way back over to him. 

“All finished?” He asked, turning to look at you fondly.

You suppressed the urge to snap at him; you knew it wasn’t his fault the girls were fawning over him, just like it wasn’t his fault that young woman from squad four wrote him that confession.

They were young, and it was harmless crushing, but you couldn't quite hold it together, and you didn't want to tell him either. You needed some time alone to calm down.

“Yes. I’m going home; I have some things to take care of,” you said, tight-lipped. Shunsui raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t object.

“I will be there soon then,” he replied, kissing your hand before you turned and flash-stepped away. 

True to his word, he arrived home shortly after, and you purposely busied yourself with several things that certainly didn’t require your attention as urgently as you made it seem, but you needed to stub out the sour mood you’d found yourself in since being at the market. 

Shunsui was no fool; he picked up on it almost immediately but didn't impose. He kissed your cheek when he came in and then went off to do his own thing, giving you the space he knew you needed, damn him.

It just made you more frustrated, his thoughtfulness and patience. Just once you wished he'd get annoyed back so you could feel justified at being angry with him, but it wouldn't happen.

The rest of the evening went on about the same; you kept to yourself, avoiding him like the plague. At some point while you were making dinner, you'd started to feel a little silly. You were practically hiding from him at this point, and it didn't make you feel any better.

You were upset with those girls, upset at him for not being upset, and now, more than anything, upset with yourself.

You could've just told him how you felt, but you'd been stubborn, having wanted to rid yourself of this mood all on your own. It had only made things worse. You shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on preparing and serving dinner instead.

The Kyoruku family, being a noble family, had servants, but you didn’t allow them to serve meals. You prided yourself on taking on that role; having come from a common household, you admired your mother's dedication to caring for the family and your father. You maintained that in your marriage with Shunsui, even a little jealous flare would not disrupt that. 

Dinner itself was quiet; you didn't speak much. The whole time he didn't push, didn't prod, just left you be, occasionally speaking out about his day or matters that you could listen to without having to reply. Afterwards you bathed and retreated to bed early, while he lounged outside drinking sake.

The moon was full that evening; you’d left the fusuma cracked open, and the light of it cast bright streaks across the floor of the room—both you and Shunsui liked to leave it open on warm nights; your bedroom overlooked the gardens and the koi pond.

The sounds of crickets chirping and the flowing of the water were normally a perfect combination to make you fall asleep, but you’d been in bed for nearly an hour, wide awake. 

The truth was, you were accustomed to being held. Shunsui always held you when you went to sleep, but his side of the bed was still empty, and you were too damn stubborn to go find him and drag him into bed. So you turned over onto your side, facing away from the vacant spot, and willed yourself to sleep.

When Shunsui finally came to bed, you were fast asleep. He moved silently, taking off his hairpins and eyepatch; he then stripped down to his samue. Padding lightly across the floor, he kneeled down next to the futon where you were lying on your side, your back to him. 

He lay down next to you, curling an arm around your waist, and you stirred, becoming aware of the feeling of his lips pressing against your bare shoulder where your robe had slipped down. He hummed against your skin when you let out a soft whine. 

“Mhmm, I’m sorry, did I wake you, sweet girl?” He asked, his deep voice soothing. You rubbed your eyes, slowly waking up.

His hand was tracing patterns along your belly, kisses trailing up to your neck. You leaned back into him unconsciously, finding comfort in his presence despite the tiny flare of anger still burning quietly in the back of your mind. 

“So…” Shunsui continued, his hand moving down to the curve of your hip, pulling the silk duvet back with it as he did.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” He murmured, tugging the tie at your waist loose to let it fall open, and he slipped his hand underneath to rest against your bare thigh.

Your breathing hitched, but you still wouldn’t speak; instead, you tilted your chin up to allow him more access, and he began to press open-mouthed kisses right below your jaw. You could feel yourself getting wetter the more he continued, heat spreading throughout your body.

The calloused hand on your thigh slipped between them now, and you felt him pull your leg back to hitch over his own, opening you up for him. 

You held your breath as his fingers trailed down your stomach, inching lower and lower, until they just barely skimmed over your core. You arched into his touch, trying to get him where you wanted him, and he chuckled against your skin. 

“Ah, ah, ah… Only good girls that use their words get what they want,” he said playfully, pulling his hand back and moving to cup one of your breasts instead. You whined then as he gently tugged on one of your nipples. 

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t speak that easily; you’re far too stubborn for that,” he grinned as he pressed himself closer to you, and you didn’t hold back your moan when you felt his hard length against your ass.

You reached behind you, snaking a hand down between your bodies, and cupped him outside of his pants.

“Please…Shunsui. Don’t tease me,” you whispered, looking back to see his face. His gaze was intense and hungry, you could feel him throbbing against your hand. You watched him then bring two fingers up to his mouth, and wet them, before finally tracing them along your slit.

He swiped them back and forth a few times, sending little sparks of pleasure pulsing through you each time, and you let out a soft moan as he slid them inside, two at first, and then, with some effort, three. 

Your body opened up with ease as he worked them in and out of you. Your pussy greedily pulling his fingers in deeper, the wet squelching sound would’ve been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. 

Your head dropped back against him as his thumb pressed against your clit. You could feel yourself getting close, your body clamping down around his fingers. 

“Look at you, squeezing me so tight,” he murmured.

You couldn’t even muster a reply as you felt your orgasm teeter on its edge, your breath coming in shallow pants. You felt his mouth at the shell of your ear, and it sent chills up your spine. 

“That’s it…that’s it…” He whispered, feeling you pulse around him as you tipped over the edge.

He didn't stop until you were squirming, pushing his hand away, and gasping for air. He pulled them out, bringing them up to his mouth once more, and you moaned brokenly at the sight of him licking them clean. He chuckled softly at that, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet. I just wanted a taste," he said, leaning down to kiss you. It started sweet but turned hungry fast, a mess of tongue and teeth, and when you pulled away, you were breathless.

“Get on your back,” you panted. He did, and you wasted no time sitting up and pulling open the shirt of his samue; your own robe lay discarded on the floor. His own clothes swiftly followed.

“Come here,” he whispered as he laid back against the pillows.

You moved over him, straddling his waist, and he gritted his teeth at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy pressed against his stomach. His cock jumped in anticipation, pulsing eagerly against your ass.  You ignored it for the moment, leaning down to pepper kisses along his neck and jaw, your hands roaming over his body. 

His hands found your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and when you began to rock your ass against his neglected cock, he tsked disapprovingly.  

“Mhmm, now who’s teasing?” He said, his voice husky and strained. He leaned forward and caught one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking greedily.

You felt yourself clench around nothing, your core dripping against his toned stomach; you needed more. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his reaction as you lifted your hips to line him up with your entrance and slowly sank down on his length.

His hands gripped your hips, eyebrows knitted together, mouth parted slightly as you inched further and further down until you sat flush in his lap. Shuddering at the stretch of him. He dropped his head back against the pillow, cursing under his breath at the feeling of you fully wrapped around him.

“Oh, my girl, you feel like heaven,” he groaned. You leaned down against his chest and began to grind against his length, slow at first, until soon you were rocking against him in earnest. He moved in tandem with you, hips driving up in short, shallow juts.

“Shun…sui…harder…” You gasped, desperately. 

He obliged you, his arms wrapped around you, and then he was flipping you both so you were on your back, with him above you. 

His hands found the backs of your thighs, pushing them against your chest, and he leaned forward so that your calves were resting on his shoulders, his weight not crushing but firm above you. Your hands grabbed at the futon as he eased back inside you. 

It was deep, so much so it felt like your breath was punched out of you as he bottomed out, the angle enough for him to brush against your cervix. 

It wasn’t painful, but it left you with an overwhelming feeling of fullness, like he was everywhere. You sobbed as he began to move, feeling like you were being split open now in the most wonderful way. The sound of his throaty moans drew your attention back to him, and you looked up at his face.  

His brow was furrowed, his good eye squeezed shut in concentration, like fucking you was an art. His hair was down, falling around him in loose tresses that framed his near-perfect features.

From his full lips to his hooked nose, even the glaring scar that ran through what was left of his right eye, he was so handsome. You reached up to stroke the side of his face, and he turned his head to kiss the inside of your palm; the gesture made your chest ache.

You felt so lucky to have a man so wholly enthralled by you that the jealous bubble popped, and soon it was replaced with a sinking feeling of guilt. 

Tears pricked your eyes, and you turned away, trying to hide them, but it was no use. Shunsui stilled above you; one of the hands that was braced against your leg moved up to cup your cheek, concern painted over his features. 

“What’s wrong, my love? Is something hurting?” He asked between heavy breaths. His tone was so sweet, and you let out a quiet sob. His face was now very worried, and he tilted your chin up to look at him. 

“Hey, hey… What is it?” He asked.

You shook your head, reaching up to wipe your eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“It’s nothing... I’m… I’m just being silly…” you said admittedly, stifling any further cries. He didn’t look convinced. 

“Nothing is silly if it makes you feel this way,” he said knowingly, and you sighed. 

“I just… I was a bit jealous today…” you finally said. 

“Was it the letter?” He asked, and you shook your head. 

“That only bothered me a little bit; it was when we were at the market,” you said softly. His brows pulled together in confusion. 

“What happened at the market?” He asked earnestly. You looked away again, feeling a little ashamed. He thought back to the afternoon, replaying the events over in his head.

“Was it the students?” He finally asked.

“Yes… The girls said some things about you as they passed me… and it just… I don’t know… It’s ridiculous. I know I shouldn’t care; it’s just…” You trailed off.

“It bothered you,” he said, and you nodded. He tutted softly and hugged you to him. A warm laugh rumbled in his chest. 

“Oh, my love… I’m sorry that upset you. It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. If it helps, I can’t even recall their faces; I was too busy looking at you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You laughed a bit and opened your mouth to speak, but then he started moving again, and your words caught in your throat.

“Mhmmm… Don’t even remember what they looked like… How could I when my pretty girl was standing right there…looking like a goddess?” He continued casually, his pace picking up until you were being jolted with each movement. 

Your hand reached down between your bodies, and you fisted it around his cock, making him slide through your fist and into your pussy with each thrust, the added friction making his own orgasm approach fast, and he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

“Does that feel good, Shun?” You whispered, and he groaned out some semblance of a reply as he felt that tingling sensation at the base of his spine.

“Do I make you feel good?” You pressed on, squeezing him harder. It made you preen hearing him fall apart for you like this, that familiar feeling inside you building up once more as he fucked into you.

“Yes…so good… Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he panted out, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Please, I want it… I want you,” you said desperately, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“I’m yours, my sweet, I’m yours,” he breathed against you, and when his hand reached down to rub your clit, it sent you careening over the edge once more. 

You cried out as pleasure ripped through you, pulsing hot and fast, and Shunsui pressed himself deep inside you in the same instance, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into you. His voice in your ear, chanting over and over again. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours,” 

Soon, the waves subsided, and you both lay tangled up in one another, sweat-soaked and utterly exhausted. Shunsui was dead weight on top of you, but you didn’t mind. 

After a few minutes he shifted to move, and you clung to him desperately, not wanting to be pulled apart. Rather than pull away, he held you against him as he rolled over, pulling you to lie on his chest, your knees tucked against his sides. His now-softening cock still inside you.

He pulled the blankets back up over the two of you, and you tucked your head under his chin, pressing one last kiss against his throat. You both drifted off to sleep. 

[bewitched-hours]

HIIII!!! CAN WE GET A... two time x mischievous and playful scammer reader!? maybe reader uses that personality of theirs to hide the fact they smoke or smth idk heehee ummmmm DIES EXPLODES

(little did you know.. I ate all your writing because of how good it is!)

You have no idea how excited I got to read this ask-

I don't have my laptop at the ready because I'm at school so I can't use my silly little faces but I can improvise on my phone lol ^^'

Also, I had no idea what you meant exactly with smoke so I just went with the normal kind (Don't smoke kids, it's not good for you either way)

P.S: I'm actually so happy seeing people enjoy my writing, I sometimes feel like crying from joy TwT

Reader's pronouns will be She/Her because we support women's wrongs here- /j

You were a scammer, so much was known about you.

Wether it was swindling kids or the elderly, failure was a circumstance you knew little about.

Studying your targets and learning to recognize reactions and behaviours like it was second nature to you.

So it was no surprise when you thought you'd ended up in hell. Luckily it wasn't though.

Although, most still called it that, you included. Or 'Purgatory', if you felt like it or said 'Hell' a few too many times. It loses its kick after a while...

You weren't too social with the other survivors. Maybe a few talks with Chance or 007 but you generally weren't seen as reliable or useful, due to your abilities linking back to your scammy tactics.

But then there was Two Time. The cultist gave you slight heart attacks more times than you could count already. You thought you were good at being sneaky but they made their appearances feel like teleportation.

And somehow... you always laughed afterwards.

Not an awkward one. A genuine, lighthearted laugh.

It confused the cultist a bit, only ever having been treated as more of a distraction by the others.

But you? You treated them like a friend, although it was first to snake your way to get their trust. They were still cautious about not being tricked by you, although they didn't show it.

And in the meantime, you became more acquainted and used to them. Hell, you'd even go as far as to call them an actual, sincere friend.

They weren't exactly against it, but it certainly didn't feel right to them. Was your genuine attitude towards them getting them to feel safe around you? Or maybe they were still distrustful of you. It was hard to tell.

There was love there, they could see that, but it felt clouded by possibilities and worry.

Many times had they tried to convert you, to make you quit scamming and instead worship the Spawn. But you always found a way to escape the conversation or shut them down.

Surprisingly enough, you did it in a gentle way. Different from when you'd decline the wants of your other teammates.

With the others you were straightforward and not afraid to speak your mind.

But when it was Two Time?

You couldn't help but feel a pit in your stomach whenever you were even mean to them. Did they really make you feel soft? Surely not... It couldn't be...

Even during rounds, you didn't usually feel like sticking to the others, preferring to just get the generators done as soon as possible.

You didn't need a plan. You just needed to be fast. And they got used to just letting you do your own thing. You were good at evading the killer anyways.

But for a couple months now, you'd find Two Time lurking nearby or straight up following you like they wanted to team up. Sometimes you'd ask and they'd play it off as a coincidence, other times they'd act as though you two could stick together better because you were both outsiders in a way. It made sense, actually...

But the reality? Two Time found themself fascinated by you, maybe even infatuated.

They even got more persistent with you over time, trying to use your own tricks against you to have you join them, claiming that it was the Spawn's will.

You didn't believe it... At first.

But then there were more 'happy coincidences' than should be possible in such a short time.

You'd miraculously escape the killer when they seemed too close for comfort, find your way to one of Builderman's sentries or dispensers when you needed them, and generators felt faster despite you always being alone. At least so you thought.

Even outside of rounds.

You'd find your favourite snacks in the fridge when you had a craving even though no one claimed to know where it came from, you always had a cup of hot chocolate waiting for you when you returned from a round or died, sometimes you even woke up to find boxes of period pads at your door when you complained about running out.

You'd usually assume one of the others might've taken pity on you and took the effort to help you out anonymously so you didn't really mention that last one to anyone. You were just glad to not be completely left to suffer.

But one thing you kept hidden? You were a smoker. Not for fun or some thrill, you just needed to calm down sometimes. But knowing your teammates, they'd be annoying about it. You would usually wait for everyone to be gone or sneak away from the group for a small cigarette but you usually snuck back before anyone could notice you were gone.

Except Two Time.

They often wondered where you'd go but they wanted to let you have time to breathe.

Not this time though.

Everyone was celebrating winning another round and it was getting too loud for you again. So, you excused yourself from talking with(to) Two Time and slipped out to get behind the cabin.

You were almost desperately trying to calm yourself down, even thinking about grabbing another cigarette from your pockets and staying out longer.

But Two Time got a little too curious this time and decided to find you.

"The Spawn told me you were here." They spoke so calmly, watching you nearly jump before chuckling to yourself.

You shrugged it off, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and holding it between two fingers as you tried to cover for your nervous behaviour.

"Still sneaking up on me without intending to, Timey?" You asked, doing your best to keep still.

But Two Time's expression said it all already. They could see right through you. Maybe you were letting yourself go softer than you intended to...

Without a warning though, the cultist had taken hold of your other wrist, pulling it out of your pocket to reveal you had been grabbing another cigarette already.

Their current stare creeped you out a bit, but you knew there was concern hidden in those eyes.

They didn't leave much room for questions as they put the back of your hand against their mouth and placed a gentle kiss upon it, your face flushed red as you stared at them in surprise. It even made you drop the extra cigarette.

"The Spawn needs you healthy..." Was all they said and for once, you contemplated their words. Call it being blinded by love or whatnot. "I know what you mean but it isn't that simple..." You sighed.

"I know... But we can work on it together..." Wait wait wait, are they saying what you thought they said.

"Let the Spawn lead us both... I can't lose you... Not permanently..." Okay... They were...

"Two Time-"

"Darling please..." Okay, you were officially red as a tomato. But you didn't know what to say. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly let the other cigarette fall from your fingers and stomped it out. All while letting Two Time hold you like you could fade away at any point. Like a porcelain doll.

"I'll... I'll try..." You muttered meekly, getting closer to hold the cultist with your now free hand.

The way they opened their eyes to look at you was expecting. Like they were asking a question. And you knew exactly what that question was as you let your shoulders fall with an embarrassed little groan.

"I'll... Join you as well..." You couldn't believe your own words but seeing that smile of genuine affection and care, your heart couldn't help but falter. "Just for you, Timey..."

You could've sworn you saw their tail wagging behind them. It was adorable beyond words. And you fell right into their show.

That night, Two Time had insisted you both sleep in their cabin and showed you how to properly worship and serve the Spawn, even rewarding you with praise and innocent kisses when you were done.

You still couldn't believe you were gonna try to quit smoking over a cultist and the Spawn of all things...

Subsequently, I arrived back home at the time I finished writing this but I can't save it without posting so...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[samhadjblog2]

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Viktor's "End of the world" narrative a contrivance to get the two cities to talk to one another. And so its cheap to end the series that was driven by its class conflict with a MCU film where everyone joins together to save the world. And so the show having people die in suits of Enforcers is kind of messed up in the contexts of the conflict between the two cities.

As for the whole "Silco became a mouth piece for forgiveness" is also referring to the unsubtle line in Ep.7 where Silco said "The greatest thing we can do in the world is find the will to forgive ourselves". (Which is kind of messed up in the context's that Vander drowned him).

And the whole speech that his imagined version that Jinx made gave to her just kind of

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Yes it was about Piltover and Zaun that is the central basis of the show. And also Viktor wasn't interested in healing his sickness because he thought he was broken. He wanted to heal it because he didn't want to die. That's been his whole conflict in S1 that he has so much potential however his body is preventing him from obtaining it. And at the end of S1 he already made peace with his death. And so this conversation of "You were never broken Viktor" is empty. Also Viktor only healed people wanted to healed at first and its all Jayce's fault for not talking things out with Viktor and telling him that he met his future self.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

Jinx and Vi were also family and she was willing to call her out for all the murders she committed. To act like Ekko wouldn't have an issue with what Vi did isn't the case. Another thing Ekko also gave up Jinx until he was sent to the alternate dimension.

(Also Viktor end the world narrative is BS)

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

She still a prominent character in the show who has a lot of connections to the main cast. So her just being reduced to this one role is just cheap.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

As you already stated, her connections to Isha, Jinx talking it out with her about helping this fight (Even though I find the conflict a load of BS)

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

It really isn't. This is something that "should of happened" because too much was just glossed over.

Again Viktor's story is BS.

Quick Response To Some Fresh Lunacy

**Spoilers For Arcane**

So while I have only delved into the sheer bedlam that is the Arcane Critical tag once, every now and then one of those feisty little diesel drinkers makes it onto my feed and I am treated to something like this as reasons season 2 supposedly sucked (their phrasing was much more unpleasant):

1. The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it. 2. Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters. 3. Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn. 4. Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid. 5. Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured. 6. Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover. 7. Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character.

Okay... breathe deep... it hurts.. I know it hurts. It hurt me as well to read such a strong concentration of felonious stupidity all in one place as well. But we must never falter. There are a lot of ways I could respond to this. And perhaps at some point I will go more in-depth. But the simple fact is nothing here requires a long, drawn out, point-by-point defense. Because I have seen the show. Which clearly gives me the upper hand here. So, I am going to give each of these the amount of attention they deserve.

The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters

Okay. I am going to make this is as simple as possible so you can follow along with me:

As we know, Silco is not there. Jinx is essentially working this out in her own mind through these hallucinations

Her status as Silco's daughter, being a symbol, his influence and shadow, it is all tying her to the past which as we know is filled to the brim with delicious sugary trauma.

Even though he was a monster, she views him as a father figure. And as much as it sucks to say probably more than Vander. She was so young when Vander died. She was with Silco during her real formative years. And I would bet she has pushed Vander away mentally to protect herself after everything that has occured. So while Vi sees Vander in the barfight when she wants to give up, Jinx sees Silco.

Silco is giving Jinx the permission Jinx realizes she has to give Vi to save both of them.

Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn

Again. HUMANITY ENDING THREAT. Also ya know her fucking sister wanted her by her side.

OH NO! OUR MURDEROUS MENTALLY ILL TERRORIST IS HEALING AND TRYING TO TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER MISTAKES! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NOT CHARACTER GROWTH!

3. True. In that moment she felt she needed to die.. because as she says, she feels "there's no good version of me". I know it's unfair you have to watch the whole scene to get it. But you have taken a profound moment of Jinx's love for her sister and her recognition of how Vi loves her and made it.. whatever this was supposed to be.

Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid.

I have done this so... so many times. I am not doing it again. I will go with the same blanket statement I have been using lately: A non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon in targeted locations against dangerous drug lords and a terrorist who likes blowing shit up? Seems like a decent plan.

Well done. You have taken a beautiful moment of meaning between these two characters and simplified it down to the utmost degree. There are numerous thoughtful, in-depth and heartfelt breakdowns of this scene available and I promised myself I wasn't going to waste a bunch of my time responding to this mind-melting ignorance. So I will just say this. If that is all you see in that scene, I really am sorry for you. I hope someday things improve.

Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover.

Heimerdinger is very aware of his failings. You have to watch in season one. Again.. watching the show you talk about.. very hard I know. And as close as he and Ekko are in season two I think we can safely say they are on the same page. Never mind that Ekko has shown he has no trouble calling out anyone who needs it.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY

Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING

I'm sorry scary Viktor. I don't know why they keep forgetting you.

[everymeowandthen]

hihihi !! i got really excited to see your writing because i love the autistic rin hc

can i suggest trying out perfumes with chigiri? i like to think he prefers perfumes because men's colognes are all rrrr masculine and cedarwood and swear

hehe ily so muchh mwah (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡ this suggestuon is soososososos cute i love it

perfume picking with hyoma chigiri

you’re the one who brings it up first.

“i wanna try new perfumes,” you say, halfway through a bento lunch with chigiri. “but i suck at picking scents.”

he doesn’t even look up from his food. “so you want me to come judge them with you?”

“obviously.”

he picks at a piece of tamagoyaki for a second. “i’m in. i like perfume.”

you glance at him. “yeah?”

he nods. “cologne’s too much. like it’s trying to prove something. perfume’s just... nicer. more thought-out.”

and that’s how you end up wandering through a bright, overly scented store full of pastel-colored bottles and names like warm vanilla sugar and beach breeze glow. the kind of place that hits your nose before you even walk in.

chigiri stops just inside the doorway, blinks once, and quietly says, “we’re gonna smell like ten different cupcake factories exploded.”

you laugh. “yeah. but in a good way.”

you start on one wall and go slowly, testing sprays on paper strips, waving them gently in the air before passing them to each other. there’s something kind of methodical about it. chigiri doesn’t rush. he takes his time, like he’s studying each scent for a final.

he smells sweet peach sunrise and makes a face. “this is a juice box.”

you nod. “an aggressive one.”

he tries coconut cream dream, then says, “okay, this is better. like beachy but not sunscreen. i’d wear this if i wanted to smell like i just took a shower on vacation.”

you raise an eyebrow. “shower on vacation is very specific.”

“it’s a whole setting.”

you try strawberry snowflakes, and hand it to him. he gives it a sniff, pauses. “kind of like a strawberry milkshake. but if it had glitter.”

“so, good?”

“good in moderation.”

the pile of used strips grows quickly. you both start organizing them into “too sugary,” “kinda nice,” and “weirdly comforting.” chigiri is brutal with the vetoes. anything too syrupy gets tossed immediately. he keeps circling back to this one called vanilla cloud, though—light, warm, a little musky underneath the sweetness.

he sprays it on his wrist and gives it a second. then: “this one smells like soft blankets. like you’d wear it to nap in, on purpose.”

you sniff it and nod. “yeah. it’s got that clean hoodie default.”

he hums, considering it.

you try tropical daze, and he leans in to smell it off your wrist. “that’s straight-up piña colada.”

“too much?”

“depends. are you wearing it to a pool party or a math exam?”

you grin. “could be both.”

he gives you a look like he’s genuinely not sure if you’re joking.

by the time you’re both dizzy from sugar-scent overload, you’ve narrowed it down to a few. chigiri settles on vanilla cloud—he keeps sniffing his wrist and saying, mostly to himself, “it’s just cozy, i don’t know.” you go for fresh coconut & cotton—clean, simple, just a little sweet.

on the way out, you both carry tiny travel-size bottles in glossy little bags. the scent lingers on your clothes, mixed with ten other things neither of you could name anymore.

you walk beside him in comfortable silence. at some point, chigiri says, “next time, we try the weird seasonal ones. like, the ones that smell like iced cinnamon gum or ‘snowy sugarplum.’”

you nod. “deal.”

i have nothing to say right now i really liked writing this one but like was it good or not it feels like failed humor (¬_¬") not that it was supposed to be humorous haha... (⸆_⸆)

© - @everymeowandthen : don't steal or copy my work!

[irisdonwinx]

Hello! Welcome to my first ever twitter au blog lol.

I noticed winx club not having much socmed aus out here, so I decided to make one myself! I will try to be consistent with posting, but let's see :)

I will also talk about general winx club headcanons and reblog stuff (I'll tag those posts as #not an au post) I really want to interact more with the winx community on tumblr :)

⚠️ these are all my personal headcanons on what the lives of the winx and the specialists would be. Any haters would be blocked, these are all fictional characters at the end of the day.

⚠️ all the ships that will be portrayed here are canon ships. (Nabu doesn't die, so it's nabu and aisha instead of nex and aisha)

Feel free to send asks if you have any specific scenarios or headcanons in mind which you want to see here! I want to be consistent so let's hope I don't run out of ideas XD

💙 Masterlist

A small description of all the characters and what their jobs are in this AU:

Stella: she's the Princess/future queen of Solaria, she is also a fashion designer. Her very successful fashion brand is called Eclipse.

Bloom: she's an art and history nerd, and Princess of Domino. She sometimes gives guest lectures in Alfea about some of the history of the magic dimension.

Flora: she works full-time at the Alfea Greenhouse, and also helps preserve the flora and fauna of the world with various organizations. She especially focuses on bringing endangered species to the greenhouse to take care of them and make their environment habitable (the greenhouse is huge, its divided into sections to replicate different "biomes" and climatic conditions tailored to every species). Lives with Helia in Magix.

Musa: she's an music artist!!!!! She lives in Magix.

Tecna: She lives in Zenith, and is a freelance software developer.

Aisha: Princess/future queen of Andros. Conducts dance classes in the summer.

Brandon: the right-hand man and guard of Prince Sky, general of the Eraklyeon army. Future royal consort of Solaria.

Sky: King of Eraklyeon.

Helia: he's an aspiring artist, has sold a few of his works to galleries. Occasionally does some art workshops around Magix.

Riven: Mechanic for wind-riders, Owls, and also fixes/makes weapons in Red Fountain. He's kind of the best. Lives with Musa in Magix.

Timmy: Works in an electronics company in Magix. Lives in Magix too. (I don't see Tecna and Timmy living together even though they're dating, I feel they would prefer living alone and meeting up occasionally. They were always simple like that)

Nabu: Wizard and curse-breaker of Andros.

Other characters (will be updated in the future):

Thoren: Sky's cousin. They become pretty close after the s6 incident. Sky doesn't admit it, but he's come to love Thoren as a brother :) Daphne's husband. He is also the right-hand man of King Oritel and leads the Domino army.

Daphne: Nymph of Domino. She's a History teacher at Alfea. Thoren's wife :)

Roxy: Fairy of Animals. She's a student of Alfea. A good friend of the winx and the specialists.