#extra note/tags below -----------------------------------------------> | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sevsgiirl · 3 months ago

Text

— sevika having baby fever

synopsis: after waking up from a rather unexpected dream, sevika’s been a little bit more handsy than usual, as well as suggesting ideas you never would’ve thought would come out of her mouth. but you’re not against it.

tags: mentions of pregnancy, top!sevika, bottom!reader, breeding kink, strap-ons, daddy kink.

notes: just a small little drabble because the idea of sevika having baby fever enticed me, also don’t ask me about the back to back horny posting I don’t know what took over me either.

the idea of a child never appealed to sevika.

it’s not that she hates kids, she was actually quite neutral about them. she found them adorable, but not having one wasn’t something she’d consider a loss

so she doesn’t understand where the goddamn dream came from.

it came to her in a blur, but one moment she was in deep slumber, her vision engulfed in darkness then the next, your face suddenly showed. this wasn’t the first time she’s dreamt about you, as a matter of fact you’re a reoccurring actress in almost all of her dreams. specifically the lewd ones.

and in this dream you stayed relatively the same. your hair was still at its familiar length, along with the crookedness of your smile and the same twinkle in your eyes.

the difference was the shape of your tummy. as her dream continued her mind began to pick up the alterations of your body, how your stomach was fuller, and not in the way it usually is after you ate a full meal and end up a bit bloated. no, it was rounder.

perplexed, she walked closer to you and it was then she picked up on the setting her mind conjured up. it was your shared bedroom, but as she looked past you, she noticed a little addition in the corner between the closet and the window.

a small, wooden crib.

inside there were small baby pink pillows and a linen blanket with floral patterns embroidered on the material. plushies of varying animals could be seen inside as well.

as her eyes scanned the display, your soft voice finally broke her out of her reverie:

“you excited, honey?” you asked, your eyes fluttering up at her, and there was a glow to your face that she couldn’t quite place. you were radiant, and she was enthralled.

your hands smoothen over your belly before you reached up and touched her cheek.

“I love you so much,” you said, your voice merely a whisper “thank you for making me a mommy.”

she woke up in cold sweat that night.

ever since she’s been acting weird around you. asking you certain questions that raised an eyebrow or two, being extra handsy whenever you’re in the kitchen and she’d sneak up behind you, wrap her strong arms around your waist, which she’s always done whenever you were washing the dishes or cooking, but this time you noticed her hands were extra attentive to your belly.

how her palm would smooth over your midsection, kissing the pulse point below your ear, and nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck. holding you in a way as if she was scared that at any moment, you’d slip away.

yeah, something was definitely up with her.

you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly the issue was but you’d notice how her attention would drift off to certain things she never would’ve paid any mind back then.

you noticed it when you went to the market and brought sevika with you, too busy scanning the aisles of fresh vegetables that you didn’t pick up on the way sevika’s eyes wandered elsewhere.

specifically to the little kids playing far off into the distance chasing each other around with huge smiles on their faces, making sevika’s chest flutter and she was so fixated on the sight that her ears drowned out your voice and didn’t even notice you were calling out her name.

“sev,” you snapped your fingers in front of her face which finally caught her attention “are you there? I was asking if you’d like chicken soup for dinner?”

she cleared her throat and just nodded “y-yeah, it’s up to you, honey.”

you weren’t dumb. you noticed where her eyes drifted to and it was only a matter of time before the topic was brought up. but of course, she was stubborn, not to mention quite shy when voicing out her interest on a matter as serious as children.

regardless, you persisted.

“something bothering you, baby?” you asked her as you settled in bed late one night.

she shook her head “no, I’m fine.”

you hummed, your hands rubbing her forearms as you moved to straddle her lap.

“it doesn’t seem like you are. you’ve been distracted.” you said as you leaned down to pepper kisses down her neck “you know you can tell me anything…”

her chest tightened at your soft tone before she finally lets out a sigh “I had a dream a few nights ago.”

you listened intently as you motioned with your head for her to continue.

“it was weird because the idea never even crossed my mind before but… I dreamt you were pregnant. with my child. it’s crazy, I know. it’s not like it’s possible anyways but… I just can’t it get out of my mind.”

“the thought of having kids?”

she nodded as her flesh hand gripped your waist “and just… you. carrying my child. fuck baby, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

her voice dropped several octaves lower as she recalled the entire dream by memory “your belly was round, and you were glowing. you know that pregnancy glow they talk about? you had that. and your tits were all swollen and you looked so happy…”

you bit your lip as you started grinding lazily on her thighs, and you swore her eyes darkened.

“yeah? you liked the idea of knocking me up, honey?” you whispered, leaning down to press your mouth against hers “like the idea of making me a mommy?”

it was as if she was transported back to that dream, and she couldn’t help the primal need that suddenly uncoiled inside her hearing your words and how pliant you became.

“you like the idea?” she asked, her tone husky and it took a while for you to answer as you pondered.

after a minute or two, you nodded “if I’m being honest, it never crossed my mind either. thinking about it now though…”

her palm gripped your ass, making you squirm as she sat up a little so her face was closer to yours.

“you wanna have my kid, sweetheart?“ she asked “be my little housewife who walks around taking care of our baby while I go out and provide for our family?“

your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you gripped sevika’s shoulders.

“please daddy,”

and that’s how you found yourself on all fours, face pushed against the mattress as sevika plowed in and out of you with her strap. your juices dripping off her cock as she throws her head back and moans, the harness hitting her clit just right and causing the perfect amount of friction.

she reaches forward and takes you by your hair and pulls “that’s it. take it. take it for me, mama. such a good cunt that’s gonna take all my cum. you’re gonna take it won’t you?”

you nodded, drool gathering at the corners of your mouth “please, daddy. it feels so good.” you were basically slurring your words at this point and sevika couldn’t help but chuckle at your state. so cock drunk as she took you by your arms, and held you up so your back was against her chest.

she gripped both your tits with her flesh and mech hand, the cold texture of her metal fingers pinching your nipple and a shiver ran down your spine at the sensation. all the while you jostled violently in her hold as she kept hammering into you.

“pussy’s so fucking tight,” she groaned, reaching down with her right hand as she fingered the hood of your clit and rubbed, making you cry out “gonna fill it to the brim with my cum so you’ll have no choice but to carry my fucking kid. you will won’t you, sweetheart?”

you panted heavily as the fast strokes of her fingers and the harsh thrust of her cock inside you made your head spin “daddy, please. fuck. it feels so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. put a baby inside me please. make me a mommy.”

“oh, I’m gonna give it to you, alright. I’ll have one, two, three and heck, ten fucking children running around this house by the time I’m done with you.” beads of sweat slid down her forehead as she felt the throes of her orgasm approaching.

“because that’s all you’re good for right? to have your tight little cunt stuffed and bred?”

your climax tore through you so hard all you could do was whine in a silent cry, meanwhile sevika kept battering in and out of you still as your slick pooled down your thighs, the loud smacking of wet skin filling the room as she chased her own release.

“that’s it…” she muttered, holding you close “if only I could, I’d fuck this pussy just enough to get you pregnant on the first try.”

you sighed, blissful as you continued to let sevika use you, thinking if she really could. you’d let her.

over and over and over again.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #arcane #arcane smut #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #drabble #sevika drabble #dividers by fairytopea

3K notes · View notes

simsdynastytree · 3 months ago

Text

Character Profile Template for Sims 4

🌿 We made a Sims 4 Character Sheet, and I think you’ll love it! 🌿

Have you ever had a whole dramatic story in your head about your Sim, but no idea where to write it down? Or maybe you wanted to share your character’s backstory but didn’t know how to format it nicely? I’ve been there so many times! That’s why my designer and I created the perfect character sheet for Sims! 🎨✨ 📌 What makes it awesome? — Stylish, clean design that feels modern but still captures the Sims vibe. — Icons straight from The Sims 4! I personally extracted, sorted, and renamed them so you can easily find what you need. — All the important details in one place: traits, aspiration, career, even their home — everything that makes a Sim unique! — Super easy to use. I used to jot things down in notes or save random screenshots, but now I have (and you do too!) a beautiful, organized sheet. — It’s completely free! Because I believe in sharing cool things with the Sims community.

📥 How to get it? 🔹 Use the template in Figma: LINK 🔹 Download the Sims icons (for extra customization!): LINK

💡 How to use it? I’ve already filled out several sheets for my Sims, and it turned out to be incredibly useful! Now it’s so much easier to track dynasty stories, fill out challenge cards, or simply save the biographies of my favorite Sims so they don’t get lost. Give it a try — I’m sure you’ll love it!

If you fill one out and want to share, tag us! I’d love to see your Sims ❤️

🔽 Check out some example character sheets below!

#ts4 templates #ts4 resources #ts4 editing #sims 4 #sims 4 template #ts4 #ts4 download #the sims 4 #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #family tree #simsdynastytree

1K notes · View notes

wandaslovey · 7 months ago

Text

ᴍʀꜱ. ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ

➺ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

word count ~ 7k

authors note: i’m so excited to share this with you guys - this was so much fun to write! i’m planning on writing the first few parts as chapters where one will pick up right after the other and then once i get to a certain point i’ll do random time skips within the same au. oh also! i’m starting a tag list, so comment below if you’d like to be included on the next chapter! enjoy loves! 💕 as usual, this is not proofread.

content warning(s): legal age gap (w=30, n=33, r=23), natasha and wanda being two hot intimidating lawyers (except natasha kinda steals this show in this part, especially in the beginning. don’t worry though, wanda will have her time to shine!), conversation about kinkery and reader knows very little

if you’d like to read the drabble that inspired this series, click here

═════════════

you stand in front of the mirror, adjusting your white button-up blouse for the 10th time. you huff, frustrated that your wardrobe just wouldn’t cooperate with you this morning. as you look yourself over in the mirror—the rest of your outfit consisting of a mid-thigh black pencil skirt, some black nylons and black combat boots—you couldn’t help but wonder if your attire was okay for the interview.

the interview…you can’t believe you landed an interview at thee M.R. law firm. you knew how unqualified you were for the position, so you felt extra pressure to compensate somehow with your appearance.

you turn to the side in the mirror, first left and then right, scrutinizing yourself at every angle. you readjust the pieces of hair framing your face that you pulled out of your bun, before deciding you’d done all you could to look your best.

you glance at the clock on your nightstand in the reflection of the mirror, seeing it was time to go. you grab your knock-off brand purse and slip out of your apartment. when you walk down the stairs and open the door to the outside, the noise from the city fills your ears. the sounds of cars, horns, sirens, music and people all blended together, creating a sort of hum all new-yorkers were familiar with. you step out onto the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding some tourists that were taking a picture in front of the trendy restaurant you lived by. you hail a cab, quickly sliding into the backseat and telling the driver your destination.

now that you were settled in your seat with only the taxi drivers quiet music to distract you, the nerves you’d been attempting to snub out suddenly hit you full force. there was no way you could do this. you were sure you were just wasting your own time and the poor person who had to interview you. you knew your 6 months working as a receptionist at a dentist office nowhere near qualified you to manage things at M.R. law. you mentally curse yourself, thinking you must’ve been half asleep and entirely too desperate when you sent in your application at this place. you needed a job though—urgently. with your roommate moving back home, and no one else taking her place, you were stuck with paying the rent on your own. on top of that, you were still paying back loans for school. you knew you should cut your losses, leave new york and transfer to a much more affordable school, but you really wanted to stay as much as you could help it.

every stoplight you hit along the 20 minute drive only makes you more nervous. the fluttery feeling in your stomach turns into full blown pterodactyls by the time the driver has pulled up to the very tall M.R. building. you pass some folded up cash to the driver, mumbling out a quiet ‘thank you,’ and then step out of the car. you stare up at the intimidating building, the lettering of “maximoff-romanoff law” taunting you—daring you to step inside. you let out a stubborn exhale, squaring your shoulders and walking in with a confidence as fake as grape flavored candy.

you stride over to the front desk, noticing that the only employees in sight are all women.

“hi, i’m here for an 11 o’clock interview,” you tell one of the women behind the desk. she offers you a polite smile, giving you instructions to head into the elevator and up to the 8th floor. you nod your head, thanking her and make your way to your doomsday interview.

as the elevator doors shut behind you, you find yourself all alone in the small space. there was no background music to distract you now. you stare at the floor, noticing a slight glint to the black tiles you were standing on. you listen to the beeps counting up each floor, your eyes dragging up the stainless steel panel when the number reads 8 and the final beep sounds. the doors open and you’re immediately greeted with the sight of more women pacing around the place. some seemed to be in a rush while others were leisurely walking across the floor while chatting with a co-worker. you walk over to the front desk again, repeating what you had told the other kind lady downstairs. she gestures for you to take a seat on the couch in the waiting area, letting you know someone will grab you in a few minutes.

you take a seat on the black leather couch, figuring this piece of furniture probably costed more than the rent for your apartment. you cross your legs, interlocking your fingers together at your knee. you glance around the office, taking in the decor. it was very tasteful, some touches of greenery that went nicely with the black and dark woodsy vibe this floor was going for. you try your best to ignore the bile rising in your throat and the pterodactyls still swarming in your stomach. it was a good thing you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.

as two minutes turns into ten, and then fifteen, you can’t help but feel the urge to just get up and leave. you felt so out of place here; you couldn’t imagine working at this place with all these women who were so obviously out of your league.

just as you were settling on the idea of ditching this interview, you hear clacking footsteps making their way over to you. you didn’t dare look up yet, pretending to be very interested in the tiny hole in your pantyhose just above your knee.

“miss (y/l/n)?” the most heavenly, sultry voice calls out to you. your eyes slowly trail along the tile, up the woman’s legs covered in black slacks, her blouse and matching black suit jacket, and then finally her face. it was her.

thee mrs. romanoff.

mrs. romanoff was the person who was going to interview you? you couldn’t believe your eyes, or the situation. you clear your throat, realizing you had yet to acknowledge her calling out to you.

“yeah, that’s me,” you reply, standing on slightly wobbly legs. you watch as mrs. romanoff’s eyes slowly take in your appearance, her eyes lingering on your frame. you feel a little scrutinized, wondering if you really did mess up with what you were wearing.

“follow me.” she turns and leads the way. you stumble a bit as you follow behind her, not expecting her to have as long of a stride as she does.

“you’ll have to forgive me for the wait—we had a couple meetings run over this morning,” she talks to you over her shoulder, slowing her walk a little when she notices you’re not directly behind her like she thought.

“oh, no worries. i didn’t mind the wait.” that was technically a lie, but it wasn’t the wait that bothered you as much as the fact that you were left alone with your thoughts a little too long.

she rounds a corner at the end of the hall, pausing and gesturing for you to enter in one of the two doors that were side by side on the wall to the right. you walk through the doorframe, stepping into what you assumed was her personal office.

“have a seat, miss (y/l/n),” she says in a low voice, walking from behind you and around her desk to sit in her chair. you sit in one of the two chairs across from her, your heart thudding violently in your chest from being in such close proximity to her.

you adjust your seating position three times before finally settling in place, forcing yourself to sit still. mrs. romanoff humors you, remaining silent and patient through your nervous fidgeting.

“so, i have to say i was a little surprised to see your application come through to my desk,” she starts and you immediately feel your cheeks grow hot, the feeling of being in a place you don’t belong filling your whole body with dread.

she pauses, and you realize she was waiting for you to respond. right. this was supposed to be where you attempt to prove yourself adequate to work in this position.

“yes, um… well, admittedly i myself did think it was a stretch to apply here, but then i figured, i’m a fast learner, i’m very thorough in all i do and i enjoy learning new things. i thought i’d try my hand at something i haven’t done before.” you rattle off an answer that while it was true, it was also something you rehearsed 20 times in the mirror while getting ready before you got here. you were almost positive the slight robotic edge in your voice was noticeable.

mrs. romanoff hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly at your rehearsed answer. “how well can you handle multi-tasking in a fast paced environment?” her lack of acknowledging your first answer puts a damper on your already fake confidence. you shift in your seat again, finding it harder to maintain eye contact with the sea of green that was her eyes.

“i would say i fare pretty well. i’m usually very good at managing stressful situations.” that was a complete lie—but most people bullshit their way through interviews, don’t they?

“usually?” she echoes, tilting her head to the side. she purses her lips, half attempting to hide a small smirk. she easily picked up on all your nervous antics the moment she saw you. you averting her gaze, walking unsteadily, fidgeting in your seat and the cute rose-y blush currently coloring your cheeks.

you clear your throat, interlocking your hands together in your lap. you notice they’ve already started to feel damp with sweat. “yeah, yeah most of the time i’d say so.”

“well, miss…” she glances down at what appeared to be your application and resume sitting in front of her on the desk. “(y/n)..you don’t sound very sure of yourself.” she sits upright in her chair, crossing her arms and leaning over the desk. your heart beats impossibly faster, the feeling of intimidation settling deep into your bones.

“no, i mean, i am sure—totally 100%.” you try to laugh, but it comes out sounding as nervous as you feel.

“okay, if that’s how you’d like to proceed…” she trails off, looking down at the papers in front of her again. you didn’t know what she meant, but your eyes fall desperately to the same papers she was looking at, as if they could provide some sort of answer to you. “what are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?”

you internally breath a sigh of relief. this was another answer you’d rehearsed in the mirror, it just needed to sound less robotic this time. “i’d say my greatest strengths are, i’m very punctual—i’m always on time if not early—um, i do all things thoroughly, as i mentioned before…i’m very reliable—hardly sick or need time off for family things, and i enjoy a good challenge. my greatest weakness is that i like to be very organized and sometimes i can spend a little too much time completing a certain project before moving onto the next.” you exhale after you finish talking, your eyes flicking across her face to try and get a sense of how she’s taking in your answer.

as you speak, you can’t help but notice that she was watching you so meticulously. it seemed that she was taking in not only your words, but your facial expressions, hand gestures and body language.

she looks at you for a moment as if she’s thinking hard on something. without taking her eyes off of you, she presses a button on her desk, the small ding from an intercom sounding. “joan, please track down mrs. maximoff and have her come into my office right away.”

your heartbeat now thrums loudly in your ears, your breath picking up its pace. you were not only going to be in the presence of mrs. romanoff but now mrs. maximoff too? never in your life had you seen such a powerful couple—and that was only in photos and billboards you’d seen around the city!

“is everything okay?” you ask nervously, feeling the permanent blush on your cheeks travel to the tips of your ears.

“everything’s fine, (y/n),” she gives you a smile but it was anything but reassuring. in fact, there was something about the expression that felt more intimidating with how devastatingly beautiful she was.

she grabs a pen and starts writing something on the paper. whatever it was was brief, but you couldn’t see clearly from your seat.

a quiet knock comes from the door and your posture becomes rigid as you hear who you assume to be mrs. maximoff entering the room.

“you called for me?” mrs. maximoff asks as she walks the length from the door to mrs. romanoff’s side. she walks around your chair and stands next to her wife, placing her palm flat against the desktop and leaning some of her weight on it.

“yes, i wanted you to meet our new interviewee,” she smiles with her lips and gestures to you in your seat. you look between the two beautiful, impeccably dressed women, feeling extremely small and insignificant. mrs. maximoff turns to look at you for the first time, a warm smile gracing her features.

“hi,” she offers simply, extending her hand to shake yours. you sit forward, reaching your arm out to shake her hand across the desk. her hand was incredibly soft and a little cold to the touch, but you wouldn’t expect anything less since the office was kept at such a cool temperature.

“mrs. maximoff is going to sit in on the rest of our interview. is that okay with you?” mrs. romanoff asks, her eyes daring you to object.

you quickly shake your head from side to side, shifting once again in your chair. “no, no that’s perfectly fine,” you reply easily, though you were feeling anything but fine. you notice mrs. maximoff giving her wife a curious glance but she doesn’t otherwise question it.

“let’s move over to the couches so we’re a little more comfortable,” mrs. romanoff stands up and heads over to the long olive green velvet sofa. you follow suit, except you take a seat in the smaller sofa, designed for only one person. mrs. maximoff sits closest to you on the long couch, brushing some of her pretty brown hair behind her shoulder. you watch as she glances back at her wife, mrs. romanoff giving her a certain look that you weren’t sure what it meant.

“so, (y/n), tells us what your career goals are,” mrs. romanoff proceeds with the interview as if the interruption never happened. you find yourself even more nervous to respond now that there were two, hot, older women sitting before you.

“umm…for now i really just need something steady that will simultaneously be giving me good work and life experience.. long term though, i’d like to become a therapist once i finish my masters program.” you bite your tongue once you finish your sentence, realizing this is not the sort of job where you tell your interviewers you’d like to pursue something that has nothing to do with their company.

“what appeals to you about becoming a therapist?” mrs. maximoff chimes in, tilting her head to the side curiously, just like mrs. romanoff had done earlier in the interview.

you lean back in your chair, a little surprised at her interest in your reply. “well, it’s a cliche answer, but i’m very passionate about helping people. it’s impossible to go through this life without getting seriously hurt and dealing with trauma. the vast majority of us have no idea how to cope or process through our experiences, so just knowing what i know, i’d like to try and be of some help for those who need it.”

the two lawyers look at you thoughtfully, mrs. maximoff nodding her head as you speak.

“that’s a very admirable passion. are you currently enrolled in a masters program?” she asks, crossing one of her legs over the other as she gets more comfortable in her seat.

“i am,” you reply with a shy smile. you never wanted to come across as bragging about your education, so you always sought to speak about it in the most humble way.

“you like school?” mrs. romanoff chimes in, leaning forward as she speaks.

your smile turns a bit rueful as you reply. “yes..i do. i know so many young people my age loathe school and all the hard work that needs to be put in, but…i love everything about it. i love taking notes, making flashcards, studying, taking tests, everything about it, i just love. i know it sounds a little crazy.” you laugh once, suddenly feeling more relaxed as you speak about something so genuinely. you feel a little more surprise again as you hear mrs. romanoff chuckle with you, nodding her head towards her brunette wife.

“sounds like somebody i know. this one here was a school addict. i had to practically pry textbooks out her hands just so we could do anything other than study,” she chuckles again, mrs. maximoff joining in with her.

“i won’t apologize for being so pointed about my studies. we both got straight A’s, didn’t we?” she jokes light-heartedly and you find yourself smiling warmly at their light banter.

mrs. maximoff turns back to face you, a smile still touching her lips. “what else do you do aside from school?” her question makes your face fall slightly as you now had to admit you were technically unemployed. you knew that didn’t look good for potential employers.

“right now, not a whole lot. just keeping busy with my studies,” you respond vaguely to which they both hum in response.

the pair of them continue asking you questions, except they become progressively more personal until they don’t attain to work or working at this position at all.

“do you like living alone? or do you prefer living with others?” was one of the questions mrs. romanoff asks you after you had explained you were currently without a roommate.

even though it was strange, you find that the more you talk about yourself, the more relaxed you feel. mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff both noticed it too. they could see more of your personality showing through as the nerves slowly but surely dissipated.

it had been near 40 minutes by the time mrs. romanoff checked her watch and noticed the time. she looked at her wife, mrs. maximoff seeming to sense her eyes on her as she automatically looked to the side. they shared a look, one of them nodding to the other before turning back to face you.

“well, we’ve kept you here much longer than was intended—i apologize for that.” mrs. romanoff says as she stands, mrs. maximoff following suit. you stand also, smoothing your skirt back over your legs. as you stand so closely to them now, you notice how they were both taller than you by a few inches, making you feel small again like you had earlier.

“it’s no big deal. i’m in no rush,” you smile shyly as you look up at the two of them. you extend your arm out, shaking both of their hands before getting ready to leave. they both give your hand a gentle squeeze and when mrs. romanoff shakes your hand, she grasps on longer than her wife, holding your gaze with a certain intensity.

“we’ll be in touch, miss (y/n),” she says smoothly, calling you out by your first name, and for some reason the combination between her voice and her eye contact made your knees feel weak.

you swallow thickly, nodding your head and thanking them both for the interview before turning away. mrs. maximoff leads you to the door to exit and walks you all the way out to the elevators. you pace the short distance in somewhat comfortable silence. when you turn to face her to say your final goodbye, your surprised to see mrs. romanoff behind her. she was following so quietly that you didn’t notice her presence.

“bye! thank you again,” you smile, stepping into the elevator once the doors open. the two women stand side by side of each other, giving you a near identical smile which portrayed some sort of knowing behind it, almost like they were expecting something.

“it was a pleasure meeting you miss (y/l/n),” mrs. maximoff calls out to you as the elevator doors slide closed.

you exhale a breath you didn’t now you were holding, slumping back against the elevator walls.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

that evening, you cook up a box of mac n cheese, too lazy to try and find the ingredients to make anything else. not to mention, your mind was still a little bit jumbled after your interview with thee lesbian power couple.

mrs. romanoff’s words kept echoing in your head.

”we’ll be in touch” she’d said. but didn’t your interview totally blow? especially at the end. it wasn’t so much an interview but rather more like a conversation where people try to get to know each other better. maybe they were looking for a personality hire? you really doubted that though.

you eat your mac n cheese while staring blankly at the wall, thinking over the whole exchange with mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff. as you mindlessly feed yourself spoonfuls of your dinner, you realize you didn’t even know their first names. you remembered you had once seen them on a billboard somewhere but didn’t remember exactly what they were. mrs. romanoff’s first name was natalie or something similar? you were at a loss with mrs. maximoff. you decide to google them to put your curiosities to rest.

pulling out your phone, you google their names and the law firm. after doing just a little bit of digging, you see their full names: natasha romanoff and wanda maximoff. ah, so you were close with mrs. romanoff’s name. you wonder if they only go by their last names at the office. it definitely seemed like their vibe to have things be so professional.

as you go throughout the rest of your evening, showering and getting ready for bed, you continue thinking about them. the longer your mind lingers on them, the less “professionally” you think about them. you couldn’t help but notice how utterly beautiful they both were. they both carried themselves with a confidence that anyone would find intimidating. there was something so forceful about their presences, but not necessarily in a bad way. it seemed like natasha—mrs.romanoff—was a little more rough around the edges, but you could see she easily held a soft spot for her wife and life partner. mrs. maximoff gave off a much more approachable vibe, but she was still intimidating in her own way.

as your mind continues wandering, you find yourself becoming more tired before you finally drift off to sleep, your brain fatigued from all your analytical thinking.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

the first thing you notice when you wake up is the light shining through your thin curtains. you blink a few times, slowly adjusting to the light. you blindly reach over to your nightstand, unplugging your phone from the charger. as you unlock your phone, you notice a missed call from an unknown number nearly two hours ago. you shoot up into a sitting position in your bed, suddenly feeling much more awake. it was just passed 10 am. was the unknown number a call back about your interview?

your fingers furiously swipe on your phone, quickly googling the number for M.R. law. you breath a sigh of relief when you cross reference the digits in your phone and the number online, realizing it was just a random unknown caller. you let your body fall back limply on the bed, your leg dangling off the side as you clutch your phone to your chest. that would’ve been humiliating if they called offering you the job and you didn’t pick up the phone.

as you go about your morning leisurely—not having any classes this day—you try to push the two hot lawyers out of your mind. there was no point in dwelling on them if you’d never hear from them again.

you leave your face bare of makeup, not intending on leaving the apartment and you opt for wearing comfy clothes—or “frumpy” clothes as you called them—instead of something nice.

you head into the kitchen, pouring yourself a bowl of frosted flakes cereal. you let it sit there for a few minutes to soak up the milk, as soggy cereal was your favorite. you’d argue with anyone who claimed crunchy cereal was best. as you wait, you power up your laptop, intent on working on some homework.

you’re munching on your cereal, blue-light filtered glasses adorning your nose as you work on your computer screen. you were mid-bite when you hear your phone buzzing on the counter next to you. you glance down at your phone and frown slightly when you notice it looks to be the same unknown number from earlier.

you continue chewing your bite, raising the phone to your ear as you accept the call.

“hello?” you ask, your voice mumbled a bit as you still had some food in your mouth.

“good morning, miss (y/n),” you hear a warm, velvety voice greet you. after almost an hour interview with her yesterday, you’d recognize this distinct voice anywhere.

“mrs. romanoff?” you just about choke on your food as you swallow, your body tensing slightly as you feel much more alert.

“that would be correct.” you hear her chuckle softly into the phone, your tone laced with obvious surprise she must have found endearing.

“i’m so sorry! i think i missed your call earlier? i didn’t recognize the number- i had no idea it was you, i’m sorry!” you apologize quickly, thinking that if she was actually calling to offer you the job, you might have just ruined it.

“don’t worry about it. i would be surprised if you recognized it given that this is my personal number,” her voice was low and warm. it was entirely too enticing.

“oh.. umm, right. well, good morning,” you stumble slightly over your words, unsure what else to say to her.

“are you normally a late riser?” she asks with humor in her voice.

“what? oh no, not normally no. i just don’t have classes today,” you explain, a little embarrassed at her having called you out on your sleeping habits.

“i see. well, we just wanted to call and ask if you’d meet us for a coffee,” her question came out as more of a statement and you were left wondering why on earth she would want to go out for coffee with you and…wait.. did she say we?

“we?” the words echo aloud from your mind.

“yes. my wife and i,” she reiterates calmly. you look around your small excuse for a kitchen as if the reasoning behind her posing this question was written on the walls.

“like today?” you ask stupidly. of course she meant today.

“yes - today. can you meet us in 15? we’re going on lunch break. i’ll text you the address.” your eyes zip to the digital numbers plastered on the microwave. you only had 15 minutes to try and look presentable, get a cab and meet them.

“ummm..yeah. yeah sure,” you nod your head as if she could see you through the phone. you quickly hop off the stool you were sitting on, walking briskly to the bathroom with the phone still held firmly to your ear.

“perfect. we’ll see you soon.” she hangs up and you all but toss your phone on the bathroom counter, staring down at the device as if it’s offended you. you quickly snap out of it, only having 5 or so minutes to un-hobo yourself. you quickly apply some concealer on your dark spots, powder on a little blush and brush on a coat of mascara in record time. in your haste, you stumble from the bathroom to your closet, trying to find something to quickly throw on. you grab a simple white baby tee, putting it on and then aggressively stepping into some loose light wash jeans. grabbing your belongings, you half jog out the door, nearly slipping down the last two stairs of your apartment.

you quickly get a cab, thanking whatever higher power there is in your head that there was very little delay in one driving by. as the taxi driver takes you to the address you gave him, you sit forward in your seat, gathering your hair in a pony tail near the top of your head. you secure it with an elastic you always keep around your wrist and pull some pieces out to frame your face. you glance in the cab rear view mirror, seeing you looked fairly presentable. you exhale shakily, sitting back in your seat as the same nerves you felt yesterday on the way to your interview were coming back now.

what was this about? i mean, you knew it wasn’t normal to meet with potential employees for coffee. it was especially suspicious because it was mrs. romanoff *and* her wife.

your thoughts are interrupted as the taxi slows to a crawl and he pulls up to the coffee shop. you’d never been to this one before, granted there were hundreds of shops all over the city so there were probably many you hadn’t gone to. your heart leaps in your chest as you see both mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff waiting outside for you.

you pass the driver the money, thank him and slip out of the car. as you step onto the sidewalk, mrs. maximoff greets you with the same warm smile she’d given you when you first met. mrs. romanoff smiles too, though it’s not as wide as her wife’s.

“hello again, (y/n).” your heart skips a beat as you hear mrs. maximoff use your first name for the first time. mrs. romanoff had been calling you by your first name since you’d stepped foot into her office. you liked the way your name fell from both of their tongues.

“hi, good to see you both again,” you smile despite your nerves, making eye contact with both of them in a polite manner.

“shall we?” mrs. romanoff suggests as she opens the door for you, her wife placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to usher you inside. you inhale shakily, the unexpected contact surprising you in a pleasant way.

as the three of you file in behind the small line of people waiting to order, your eyes skim the menu, even though you already knew exactly what you wanted.

“cute outfit,” mrs. romanoff murmurs from behind you. you could hear what sounded to be amusement in her tone but you weren’t sure.

you turn to the side to face her, her being on your left and mrs. maximoff on your right just a half-step behind you. “thank you. i threw it on—literally. i was wearing something a lot less presentable when you first called.” you glance down at both of their outfits. the duality between yours and their outfits was almost laughable. they looked impeccably fashionable and you were just in street clothes.

wanda chuckles lightly at your comment. “what were you wearing before?” she asks.

“just an oversized tee and some biker shorts,” you shrug, crossing your arms casually over your chest. you always felt more comfortable when you had your arms wrapped around yourself.

as the line moves and you’re next, mrs. romanoff quickly stands in front of you, her body moving between you and the counter. “what’ll you have?” she gives you an expectant look, ready to give your order.

“an iced mocha?” you ask a little shyly, her show of putting herself between you and the cash register did something to you for some reason.

she nods, and turns to the barista, repeating your order along with hers and her wife’s. you’re about to protest, wanting to tell her she doesn’t have to pay for you, but you feel mrs. maximoff’s hand return to the small of your back, swiftly maneuvering you away from the line and over to the small cluster of tables.

you sit down in a chair she pulled out for you and you scoot yourself in as mrs. maximoff settles in her own seat across from you.

“you really don’t have to pay for me, you know,” you pipe gently, glancing over at mrs. romanoff who was standing at the counter waiting for the drinks before you turn back to mrs. maximoff.

“of course not, we want to. plus, neither her nor i would ever allow you to pay for yourself even if you insisted,” she smiles winsomely, her eyes gleaming with something warm and bright.

mrs. romanoff returns with all three coffees, somehow handling all three and setting them down in a graceful manner.

“thank you,” you give mrs. romanoff a gentle smile as your fingers interlock around the cup and you drag it closer to you.

they both take a sip from their coffees—which were both hot—before mrs. romanoff clears her throat, her eyes narrowing in on you as she leans forward on the table.

“so, i imagine you’re wondering why we asked you here.” she throws a glance at her wife who was already looking at her speak.

“it may have been on my mind…” you trail off, sounding as innocent as possible.

mrs. romanoff smiles knowingly, her eyes appraising you in a way that made you squirm slightly in your seat.

“it’s not about the job, as i’m sure you might have figured, but rather about offering a different type of position,” she begins. your brow furrows in confusion. what did she mean?

“a different position? like a cleaning job or something?” you immediately go to thinking about jobs that require little to no experience, figuring that might be all they’d have to offer given your background.

they both laugh at your guess, mrs. romanoff being the one to shake her head no.

“no, not a cleaning job,” she pauses, seeming to measure your expression before continuing. “(y/n), have you ever heard the term bdsm?”

your face goes blank and you look from mrs. romanoff to her wife who appeared to be watching you just as carefully.

“um…i think so? i’ve heard the term a few times before.” your legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly, an unfamiliar pit settling into your lower tummy at the abrupt shift in the topic of conversation.

“what do you know about it?” mrs. maximoff chimes in, tilting her head to the side which causes some of her neatly curled hair to fall forward.

you look between the two of them, unconsciously shrinking further down into your seat. this was such a taboo subject to talk about it public; you found yourself already growing warm from just the thought of this discussion.

“well, it’s..sex stuff…right? like being tied down and whipped?” you speak hesitantly in a small voice, throwing quick glances at the strangers littered across the coffee shop.

“those things can be a part of it, yes—if all parties discuss that’s something they like to participate in” mrs. romanoff explains and then continues. “what else have you heard about it? or is that the gist of what you know?”

you shrug, your shoulders slumped forward and your head bowed slightly to try and obscure your flushed cheeks. you suck your bottom lip into your mouth—your nervous habit.

mrs. maximoff pipes in again after noticing your bashfulness. “a lot of people have that imagery in mind when they hear the term ‘bdsm,’ so it’s understandable that that’s your impression. there is so much more to it though. really, bdsm is about exploring people’s sexual interests in a safe space. you learn about your limits, what you like, what you didn’t expect to like, and so much more.” you listen to her explanation intently, your mind immediately wandering and wondering where this conversation was going to go.

mrs. romanoff picks up off her wife’s words. “some people simply dabble in certain aspects of bdsm while others treat it more as a lifestyle—and for my wife and i, it is a lifestyle.”

you nod hesitantly as they both pause for a second, watching you digest this information. you’re unsure how to respond, feeling progressively more restless in your seat.

they both give each other a look before mrs romanoff nods and mrs. maximoff speaks.

“normally, for people who live this lifestyle, they draw up contracts between themselves and the person they want as their submissive.. now we know this is all very forward, but there’s just no other way to put it. we’d like to have you as our new submissive.”

your face turns bright red for reasons you’re not fully aware of. you weren’t quite sure what being a “submissive” all entailed, but you couldn’t wipe the imagery of being helplessly tied down and whipped from your mind. you’re silent as your brain flits through one imaginary scenario to the next. you were so clueless though, you weren’t sure if the things you were thinking up were things people actually did or if they were just shown in porn.

“me…? i just..well it’s just that..i’m-i don’t know if i would be your ideal candidate,” you stumble out, your eyes glued to the table as you avoid looking at either of them at all costs.

“on the contrary, (y/n), i singled you out almost immediately at our interview. i knew i wanted you. that’s why i had wanda join us.” her face softens as she notices your slight uneasiness. being a bit of a sadist though, she couldn’t help but find your innocence and embarrassment so incredibly gratifying. it only made her want you more.

your teeth worry into your bottom lip again as you look between one set of green eyes and then the other. “do you guys normally.. share, uhm..submissives?”

“not always, but we do like to when it’s possible,” wanda shares, a reassuring smile on her face. you purse your lips, chewing on the inside of your cheek as more questions arise in your head.

“how does that work? sharing i mean.” you knew there were people who participated in polyamorous relationships, and you had no issue with it, you just had trouble visualizing the dynamic.

natasha grins wickedly to herself, realizing now how truly innocent and unknowing you were. she suspected a little yesterday at the interview, but had no idea the true scope of your innocence. wanda also found herself undeniably more attracted to you after this conversation. her hands twitch in her lap, thinking of all the things she could do to you that you probably haven’t ever dreamed of.

“it works (y/n), trust me…” mrs. romanoff says seductively.

“we know this is all very foreign to you, sweetheart. you don’t have to say yes today, just think about it?” mrs. maximoff reaches across the table and affectionately holds onto your wrist. your stomach does a little flip-flop at the term of endearment paired with the affection.

there were so many thoughts and feelings swirling around you, but one thing stuck out above the rest. you wanted to learn more. you didn’t want to say no and close a door on something that you might enjoy.

“i want to.. i mean, um, i will think about it,” you clear your throat for the umpteenth time that day, pulling your hand back from mrs. maximoff’s light grasp. it was suddenly feeling like her hand was searing your skin.

“you want to what?” mrs. romanoff presses, her eyes looking at you with intensity again.

“i just meant that i want to learn more..about this,” you reply quietly, peeking at mrs. romanoff through your lashes. you notice her clench her jaw and flex her fingers that were resting on the table, but you weren’t sure what it meant.

“well, there’s a lot to learn, but luckily i’d say we’re both pretty good teachers,” mrs. maximoff grins more wickedly this time, her expression giving you a new glimpse into something you hadn’t seen in her until this point.

“why don’t we meet up again sometime this weekend? we can answer any questions you have—help you learn more about what we’re asking from you,” she adds, to which you surprisingly feel eager to agree to the idea. you find yourself already wanting to learn more, especially if the people who were going to educate you were two of the hottest women alive.

“yeah…let’s do that,” you nod once, your blush slowly creeping off your cheeks though a slight honey glow was still present.

you all begin to gather your things, mrs. maximoff noticing their lunch break was just about up. the three of you hardly touched your coffees, the conversation too intense to take swigs of the drinks.

the two of them walk you out of the shop, mrs. romanoff hailing down a cab for you. you turn to say goodbye to mrs. maximoff and find that she’s standing closer to you than expected.

“i look forward to seeing you again so soon, dragotsennaya veshch’,” she murmurs, reaching to give your arm an affectionate squeeze. you smile at her, unsure what she said but not caring much to know now.

you step closer to the cab after mrs. romanoff opens the door for you. before you can slip inside the car, mrs. romanoff leans down, murmuring in your ear.

“if you have any questions before the weekend that simply can’t wait, don’t hesitate to text me. you have my number.” her voice was a little rough which makes you shiver.

you nod slowly, sucking on your bottom lip again. you give mrs. maximoff a shy hand wave which she mimics with an amused grin. you sink down into the car seat, mrs. romanoff shutting the door behind you.

as the taxi drives away, you can’t help but look behind you as the two women grow smaller and smaller on the sidewalk. as the car turns a corner, the couple remain standing there until you disappear. you sigh and turn back around in your seat, resting heavily against the cushion behind you.

what just happened?

——————————

tag list:

@poppyshuman @wandamaximoffsbadgirl @xenaizogie @ashadash0904 @kittnii @hayeeonn @gh0sstss @beggingonmykneesforher @natashalover3000 @msvenablesbitch @ihartnat @leesromanova @alwaysgoodnight @lowlifejuliett @azaleavolkova @caramelcat123 @daretodream1307-blog @ctrlaltedits @sweetmissnothing @gecko1 @karmasgxrl @marvelwomenarehot0 @elle161989 @waaayoutofline @snazzysprig @simpforlizzie @just4natasha

#venturing is inevitable: series #vii #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

2K notes · View notes

yourcutelittlegayfriend · 7 months ago

Text

No More Chances

✧ M A S T E R L I S T ✧

Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

In which a sad little child of a Wayne is somehow curse by the fates to live again and again, facing death in the end just to relive their fears, trauma and neglect from their own family.

Will they find away to end this looping nightmare or to live another reset again just to find a good gooddamn ending?.

Warning this Fic will contain:

Suicide and Suicidal thoughts, Death [Mainly Y/N's], Violence, Cursing, Drugs and substances, Guns and other weapons, Family Neglect, Talk about traumas or phobias, out of characters from the DC characters, mixed versions of the Batfamily [Will be mentioned if there are changes or implications of specific depictions of comics, games or other media for DC characters], Typos [ I can edit if there are typos but don't expect perfect or poetic English from me cuz I'm not that great in English ] and lastly This is NOT a Jinx!Reader I only had inspo of jinx and Arcane reference for this they are not fully Jinx because if they are then that would be a different fic now.

EXTRA EXTRA NOTE :

For the love of anything out there if you do not like to consume these type of fics in tumblr, DO NOT message or comment to me about how you don't like to read yandere or even x reader fanfictions in your feed, it's not my fault, I don't control your recommendation or what pops up in your screen, you have fingers SCROLL AWAY.

--- 0 0 0 0 ---

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1 : Dear Mother, Goodbye

Chapter 2 : A New Reset, An Old Story

Chapter 3 : Hello Father, Die

Chapter 4 : Oh Love, Why can't I See You?

Chapter 5 : Poor Goldilocks, Nothing Is Just Right

.......

[ O N G O I N G ]

Headcannons

--- ? ? ? ---

Fate's Chapter Assessment

[ 0 ] ,

No More Chances Q&A [#No More Chances Q&A]

Flasbacks&Babies

Doodles& Hallucinations

BadguyOrNot?

-✧✦✧-INTERTWINED FATES-✧✦✧-

Melody composed by fate [song fic]

Death by Family

Father

Sons

Daughters

Grandfather

✧✦✧ CRACKED VISIONS ✧✦✧

Imma finna rock yo' shit

Black Betty Bam Balam

〖 = ✧ = 〗

A taglist will be made if you want to be updated quickly, I only tag when I reblog a chapter so please comment your @ below thank you so much.

Q&A for No More Chances are open (Don't ask for updates you already know why I don't post much)

[ If you're having trouble finding the chapters for this fic all of them will be tag with #No More Chances or find #Masterlist ] (all images are from mixed media of screenshots, Pinterest, tumblr and google)

2K notes · View notes

f1amour · 9 months ago

Text

✧˚ · . make me juno

pairing | max verstappen x popstar!reader

word count | 2.3k

content warnings | some social media au, established relationship, smitten max, light dom!max, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, brief choking kink, praise kink, squirting, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, cock warming, teasing, unprotected sex — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | happy belated birthday to max #1 certified cat lover <3

navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.

yourusername juno out now available to download and stream! happy birthday baby 💋🤍

tagged — maxverstappen

comments below…

user1 MAX MUSIC VIDEO DEBUT

user2 begged for a cameo from max and we got a whole ass film 🧎‍♀️

yourusername my man is too hot for only a small cameo. made sure to showcase his actor side>>>

landonorris i did NOT have to watch an 8 minute film of you and max being horny. disgusting.

yourusername the first minute of the video was horny you could have exited but you watched the whole thing. our biggest fan 🥹🫶🏼

landonorris fuck off

maxverstappen1 wanna say that again?

landonorris 🏃‍♂️💨

user3 max trying to be serious through the video but breaks into a smile anytime y/n would sing to him 😭

user4 they just broke the internet with this video

user5 never thought i would see max and y/n horny on main in 2024

user6 did you guys not listen to her latest album? girl gave us a whole ass ovulation album. GIVE HER A BABY MAX!

maxverstappen1 i’m trying

─────────────────────────

being with max for five years now you’d grown used to knowing his likes and dislikes; both in & out of bed.

especially in bed.

“have you always been this keen on having kids? even before me?” you manage to spit out while sitting on max’s lap, his lips prepping kisses all over your neck and chest.

you had just spent the day celebrating his birthday on a yacht with all of yours and max’s close friends and family so he had been extra needy arriving home since he couldn’t have his way with you all day with everyone surrounding both of you.

his lips detach from your neck looking you in the eyes full of love, “i’ll remind you any chance i get when it comes to that, you are the reason i want a family. the reason i see myself being your husband and father of our children before you i never saw that with anyone else.” max would take any chance to remind you how ready he was to be your husband and have kids with you.

“i don’t want to wait anymore. not for the wedding or the babies…i want it now.” you whisper desperately clinging onto max. his eyes widen at your statement, “now?”

“we’ll have the wedding after the baby is born. we can go to to the courthouse this week and make it official just us two. don’t you want that, maxie?” sitting on his lap grinding against his hardened cock make it even more difficult for him to say the words.

“yes…fuck yes of course, baby. i don’t want to wait any longer to have you as my wife. gonna fuck you so full of my cum tonight and make you a mommy. god i can’t wait any longer.” his hands cupping your face and pulling you into a hungry and messy kiss. both of you quickly removing your clothes off each other desperately needing to feel as close as possible.

you start getting on your knees but max pulls you back up, “as much as i want you on your knees stuffed with my cock in your mouth, i need to taste you.” his words immediately taking affect on your core.

“b-but it’s your birthday…w-w-wanna gi—.” your words stutter out, after placing you on the bed hovering over you his lips meet your neck down to your stomach before he situates himself between your thighs.

“getting to taste you is the best gift i could ever get.” your legs squeeze his head, thighs keeping him close to your pussy as he licks, laps, and sucks until you're close to the edge.

"’m so close, max, so close," you feel like you're in a trance as his fingers hook inside of you brushing your g-spot. he presses his palm into your lower tummy, applying gentle pressure as you nearly thrash under him from how intense the buildup is.

"cum for me, baby. make a mess all over my face," he growls before you feel yourself snapping as your orgasm flows through you. max rides you through the orgasm, tongue lapping at your core as your legs are left shaking.

“max…” you gasp out of breath as cleans you with his tongue, your fingers slowly caressing his hair. he

"you are so perfect, baby." he cooes, thumb resting on your lip as you part your mouth and bite down on it. you feel him stiffen under you, "ik hou van je. (i fucking love you)" he groans under his breath as you wrap your lips around his thumb.

"my fingers look so good shoved in your mouth," he purrs, hearing you whimper as he massages your pelvis. you can feel yourself growing wetter, the heaviness in your mouth feels comfortable before his lips are on yours.

"shit," he hisses, "i’m done waiting…i’ll take my time with you later.”

he doesn't give you a chance to speak before he's fisting his cock, lining up with your entrance, and pushing in "fuck, fuck," his voice is low and raspy, the feeling of him sinking into you, whispering out a various dutch words as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

"this," he thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall,"is what l've been fuckin' cravin. can’t wait to see you round and full." his thrusts are deep and slow before he can't hold back and he's fucking you into the mattress, loud moans and skin slapping are the only sounds filling the room.

your walls flutter around his cock and you're coming for the second time that night, "gonna have you cum a few more times, baby. keeping us up all night and make sure i get you pregnant." he snaps, bed in shambles as it creaks and squeaks before his own thrusts are growing sloppy.

"gonna fill you up," he moans, "fuck, you're gonna be so fuckin' stuffed. looking so perfect carrying our babies." his breathing is laboured, chasing his release before it hits him and he’s spilling inside you.

you stay close together for a brief moment before you both are desperate for another round, trying to rock your hips because he's still hard inside of you, "max…," you plead. "need more. please, please, please.”

he chuckles deeply at your desperation, "yeah?" he switches your positions, flipping over, lying on his back as you're straddling him and you fall into his chest because he’s impossibly deep, you were sure you’d come right there once again just from that position

you rock your hips, steadying yourself over his chest as he groans, "that's my good girl, you feel so fucking good like this. my soon to be wife. mother of our babies. i love you.” he’s lost himself in you, unable to form a coherent sentence as you lose yourself in the feeling of riding him like never before.

his sweet words and whines coming from his mouth have you quicken your movements, "you feel so good, max," you mumble, "all yours, baby. i’m all yours," he groans, digging his fingers into your skin as he meets your thrusts.

“how you doing, baby? you okay?” despite being deep inside you he slows down checking on you. he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him but he was still hard as a fucking rock with your cunt clenching around him.

you nod giving him a smile, “m’ okay…getting sleepy,” you mumble out before pulling him closer to you (if that was even possible), “fill me up one more time, maxie. then we take a nap…and go again.”

despite being completely exhausted from the hours of fucking you wanted max to ensure you were pregnant by the end of the break. you were ready to become his wife and now have his babies as soon as possible.

his thrusts are deep and slow while you two conversed until your last sentence he can't hold back and he is fucking you senselessly now giving deep and rough thrusts, your moans filling the room chanting his name.

"come on, baby. cum 'round my cock, yeah…fuck," he hisses when you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside of you as he comes inside you once again.

catching your breaths you lay on top of him now, his cock buried inside you, “can’t believe we’ve been awake all night.” you chuckle against his chest while his hand plays with your hair.

“i have a month of uninterrupted free time with you and i’m gonna take advantage of that.” max kisses your head and you close your eyes getting comfortable in his arms.

“remember when we first met?” you ask him, knowing he’d go on a yap session about it. he would talk about it to anyone who asked and you loved him so much for knowing the small things just from the first moment you met.

“do i remember? how could i forget when you assumed i was a mechanic instead of the driver? oh and your perfect smile—.”

2018

meeting at the united states gp in austin the year of 2018 you were just 19 years old on your first world tour of your singing career. you had a concert on the first day of the race weekend so you met a few of the drivers and you tried your best to remember their names but there was so many.

max had been watching your performance with a huge smile on his face, he was in a meeting causing him to miss the introductions most of the drivers had with you. but here he was waiting for you at the side of the stage to introduce himself. he had grown to be a fan the last few months and when he found out you’d be performing at the austin gp he was counting down the days.

“hi i’m max…i’m with redbull—.”

you had gotten off stage ecstatic with the crowd cheering you on to be meet with a slightly taller guy dressed in some jeans and a white jacket paired with a redbull hat. the redbull hat made you assume he was a mechanic for the team so you cut him off, “oh nice to meet you! i’m y/n, how is it like working on the cars for redbull? you’re a mechanic right?”

max was confused at the question many things did not make sense when you asked but he assumed you didn’t know much of the sport (which was very true). he decided to go alone with it appreciating the chance to speak with you just for a few minutes before you were pulled away again for some interviews.

few weeks later he got your number from lewis who had been a mentor in your life for awhile now being in the limelight at a young age he took you under his wing. after checking with you first he gave max your number sending you a text and getting his full name you search him up on instagram realizing he wasn’t a mechanic but a goddamn driver for redbull racing.

lewis couldn’t help but laugh at your cluelessness when it came to the sport only sending him messages if he won not caring for any other drivers; until now.

after many apologies through the phone and max waving it off as something to laugh about. you grew a close friendship with him for the next year waiting patiently for him to ask you out.

PRESENT

“i had to wait a year before i got the balls to ask you out and then—oh.” he chuckles stopping mid sentence looking down at you realizing you had fallen asleep. he gives your head a kiss and falls into some much needed sleep alongside you.

you had woken up a few minutes ago with your back against max’s chest settling between his thighs. he had been playing with you hair until his hands started wandering down your body, “max…” you sigh contently feeling his finger play with your clit.

when two fingers slip through your folds, an obscene moan runs through you before they're filling you up. "that's my good girl, look at how well you're taking my fingers," he cooes, fingers curled deep inside you.

"that feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he taunts, you nodded your head, eager to feel his fingers moving some more as you rocked your hips in sync.

the pressure building up made you squirm, max was edging you and now you were nearly in tears, “oh…oh god,” whispering as you beg him to let you cum.

"that's it, my pretty girl," he hummed, “love hearing your moans, love feeling you cum, baby. squeezing my fingers with your tight pussy. gonna have your pussy squeezing my cock after this.”

"fuck," max groans, your orgasm gushes out of you; soaking his hand and bed sheets. you pant trying to catch your breath, "think we need to get ready for the day...we can't stay in bed forever. i wanna take you to a cat cafe--."

"just one more for me, schatje, one more and then we go to all the cat cafes we want," he smiles sweetly, kissing your neck finding your sweet spot and getting a moan out of you. how could you deny him?

pulling you in for a passionate kiss he flips you around and looks you in the eyes filled with lust, "wanna try another position?" he mumbles against your lips and you nod, not having to tell him the one you wanna try because he knows it's your favorite.

with your face pressed into the bedsheets and ass up in the air he gives you a soft slap before sliding his cock deep inside your aching cunt, "fucking christ...shit," he groans with each deep thrust your walls squeeze him.

"not gonna last, max..." you whine, your hands grip the sheets as he gives you a rough slap on your ass, "me neither, baby. you gonna cum with me? come on, schat. gonna fill your tight pussy with my cum and make you mine forever." his thrusts growing faster and sloppier, but his words have you pushing back against him meeting his hips.

"yes, yes, yes...wanna have your baby please fill me up, maxie," he pushes you up against his chest his hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it lightly. it was more than enough for you to ride out yet another orgasm, "that's it, baby. make a mess all over my cock." he groans feeling your walls flutter around him, with a few more thrusts his cum fills you up.

your heavy pants fill the room, feeling him pull out of you after a few minutes making sure each drop of his cum filled you up he flips you over laying you down and grabbing a warm towel to clean you up, "doing okay, my darling?" he smiles down at your loopy grin.

"so good. i love you." you tell him once he finishes cleaning you up and settling in bed for a few minutes before you go and shower. "i love you more. best birthday ever." max tells you, and he meant it being the best birthday especially if you do end up pregnant.

you run your fingers along his jaw, "think you made me juno yet?" you smile sheepishly at him and you both break out into a fit of laughter, "well if that didn't, we'll just have to keep on going until you are."

#f1 amour works #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen smau #max verstappen one shot #f1 one shot #f1 x reader

2K notes · View notes

padmerry · 1 month ago

Text

What people often get wrong about young Ford

Strong title, I know. By “young Ford,” I mean baby and teen Ford.

When people think of baby Ford, what kind of personality do they envision? Many times—as I can attest due to fanfic reading—they seem to picture him as shy, sweet, quiet, and, in Stan’s words, “Mr. Good Nerdy-Shoes” who couldn’t stand up for himself nor think of disobeying adult authority. Look at his adorable little face.

When they think of teen Ford, he is not so sweet anymore, true—but he still contrasts greatly with his adult self, who is so assertive and confrontational, and even with young Stan, who looks extra brash next to him. That is ostensibly why Ford couldn’t stand up for Stan in the principal’s office, even though he would have had if he had more courage.

Is this general portrayal faithful to what we’re shown in canon? My own answer would be a firm no. I’ll elaborate why, exactly, below the cut.

The first thing we have to establish, imo, is that young Ford isn’t a completely different creature, a boy unrecognisable from the man he is going to become. That even baby Ford already shared, to a certain extent, some of adult Ford’s traits, and not only the most “wholesome” of them—the endearing fascination with science and anomalies and nerdiness, that is.

We can notice, for example, his ambition (back then):

We can notice he’s apparently (from what is shown to us, which is not much) the one used to decide what the Stan twins did every day, the Phineas to Stan’s Ferb:

Stan asks him, and he answers—a perhaps unintended but still fascinating parallel to how Ford was also the one to decide their destiny in the finale, namely to hunt anomalies in the Arctic.

He’s the one who rides their bike in the two panels we see them riding it. Maybe an insignificant (and definitely unintended) detail but fitting, imo, with the pattern of Ford leading and Stan tagging along.

Despite these two observations being more my particular observations than anything else, the need to draw a visual parallel between baby Ford with his adult self was the whole point of dressing them in similar outfits, with the red turtleneck:

That said, let’s focus on two major things here...

Was Ford ever a goody-two-shoes?

I think nothing is more fitting than to start this topic with Stan’s little nickname for Ford in the comics: “Mr. Goody Nerd-Shoes.”

If you have read Journal 3—hell, if you have watched the show at all—you know that Stanford Pines is far, far from being a goody two-shoes, despite indeed being a huge nerd. (An important distinction! Ford doesn’t fit nerd stereotypes!) The guy stole radioactive waste from the government even before his portal days, became an intergalactic criminal described as “armed and dangerous,” lent a mind-control tie to a child... Stan is just living in the past and doesn’t understand that Ford changed, right? He isn’t that sweet little boy who could do no wrong anymore!

But... was he ever?

He found it hilarious when Stan mocked their teacher with an unflattering caricature, and doesn’t even bother to hide it.

He helped Stan cheat on tests/assignments (it’s not clear what exactly they’re doing here, but the fact Stan was trying hard to copy it from Ford and not from the blackboard tells us he wasn’t simply copying notes, but answers). Do notice that Ford doesn’t seem bothered, not even anxious or afraid of the teacher catching them. He’s smiling.

Both occasions seem to indicate that despite taking his studies seriously, Ford didn’t have a particularly strong fear of adult authority.

And of course—the best for last—he found it perfectly normal to impersonate two boys he mistakenly thought were dead:

Alex elaborates on the shenanigans those two would get up to in the commentary A Tale of Two Stans:

We played around with the idea that you would see them working together doing little science games or pulling little pranks. There was actually a scene that—I think some of it was even storyboarded—where they have a treehouse. And they’re in the treehouse together and Crampelter and his friends have tracked them down and are begging for their lunch money and Stan and Ford have used their jerkiness and geniusness to rig up like a water balloon throwing machine that knocks Crampelter in the head. I remember him saying, “oh no, my old-timey paper crown!” We were really hanging a lampshade on all these sort of Little Rascal cliches.

They were—both of them—an utter menace. I think Ford just happened to be way subtler about it than poor Stan, causing his misbehaving nature to be easily ignored by both the audience and, luckily, his father Filbrick.

Was Ford ever meek and conflict-avoidant?

I think many people think Stan was the protector and Ford the protected in their early years, but it was never as straightforward as this.

Young Ford is very sensitive about one thing in particular: when people mock his hands or imply he’s a freak. The way I see it, it’s because he believes that, deep down. He believes he’s indeed a freak. On top of that, he cares more about general public opinion than Stan does, since Stan is only ever shown to care about the opinion of his own family.

The insecurity about his hands is something that arguably follows him to adulthood:

(Of course, Ford doesn’t blush and doesn’t demonstrate any insecurity here, but he’s gotten way better at hiding and/or suppressing his feelings. I doubt Bill would have chosen this to pick up on if he didn’t think it would hurt.)

Outside of that, however?

He was quite confrontational! Certainly way more than I remember being when I was his age, as a conflict-avoidant child.

Quite angry, too:

(Notice how, in the original idea of Stan and Ford rigging up a water fountain described in the previous topic, Ford wasn’t afraid to pull a prank on Crampelter, either, despite being sensitive towards Crampelter’s targeted mocking of his hands.)

And most interesting of all—he was not afraid of stand up for Stanley, even when it would cost him to do so (considering that the Sibling Brothers had threatened to frame him as well and let him face Filbrick’s punishment along with Stan in case he made the wrong choice):

Not even when Filbrick was involved directly, instead of being used as the Siblings Brothers’ invisible threat! Pay attention to how Stan hides behind Ford as he tells Ford, “tell ‘im, Sixer!” basically using his brother as a shield, hahah. And, by the way, subverting the common fanon perception that Stan would often protect his twin from his father while a helpless, scared Ford would only watch and let him take the punishment. This is one of the reasons why he gets angry at Stan for lying: “I defended you!”

When Stan is being kicked out, he actively asks Ford for help, once again, just like he did as a kid!

Not even their mom, Caryn, but Ford!

And Stan knows Ford like the back of his hand! Why would Stan ask for Ford to defend him, to stand up to Filbrick, if he didn’t think Ford was capable of it? Ford’s protection was something that Stan thought he could rely on, if only this once, with such high stakes and urgency... despite...

... despite Ford completely failing to defend him in front of the principal, yes.

Remember how Ford always struggled to defend himself from comments that he believed deep, deep down? I think a similar thing was happening here, in the principal’s office. Of course, he wouldn’t have thought of Stan as “a clown,” at the very least not consciously, and he loved his brother, but at that point in their lives the difference between Ford’s and Stan’s accomplishments and abilities must have been undeniable, with the world at large pointing it out more and more often.

This moment in the series was also probably inspired by the real moment in Alex’s life that inspired the scene in which Mabel overhead Ford’s proposal to Dipper, according to the commentary of Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future:

This idea of Mabel overhearing Dipper and feeling left out actually came from a real thing that happened between me and my sister. This is a weird anecdote about me and my sister but we did this kind of like, sort of competitive improv games when we were in middle school, very nerdy. And we did pretty good, like, our team made it to the international competition every year, and there was this high school team... [...] We had a pretty good team, but there was a team above us, the high school team, that was like, legendary, that we wanted to be like. And when me and my sister went from junior high school to high school, like, this is going to be our last year to do this sort of competitive improv, and I got a call from the high school team saying “hey, guess what? we already raided your team for the standout members, we’ve taken the people from your team that always do good scores and we’re combining the high school team and the middle school team into a super team and we would like you to be on the high school team. And I was like, “what about Ariel?” And they were like, “well, there’s only seven members per team—” and Ariel was listening on the conversation and I remember her like, bursting into tears because they had basically been like yeah, we got two Hirsches [and] we only want one, and I didn’t even blink. I just said, “no, I refuse to be on this team.” Like, I couldn’t, it was just like, this is so messed up, you’re breaking this whole thing apart, like yeah, it’s a great team, yeah, you guys are awesome, but I’m not gonna do this without Ariel.

Based on Alex’s immediate and strong reaction to such a proposal, it’s not a stretch to think Ford’s silence here was indeed telling—especially because in Alex’s case, Ariel was never insulted. The principal, on the other hand, calls Stan a “clown,” says “he’ll be lucky to graduate high school.”

And because Caryn (who failed to defend Stan when he’s kicked out) did react about the way the principal was talked about him/did ask about him, in the two opportunities that were given to her, basically taking Alex’s irl role in the situation:

Dipper himself also asked about Mabel, even though he was being given an opportunity to learn from The Author of the Journals, whom he admired to the point of almost worship:

A significant factor I think could have changed for Ford to stay silent as the principal badmouthed Stan is: Ford’s priorities. Before, when they were children and more carefree and naive, it was Stan > the world (such as other people’s opinions and his ambition). Now, though, with a true opportunity to finally prove himself—one unlike any other he had before, capable of earning him the approval of even their “tough as a cinderblock” father—he was clinging hard to it.

And you might also be thinking, “but the examples you gave of Ford being assertive were only of baby Ford! Teen Ford could have grown more insecure. Perhaps Stan hadn’t realized that yet, or perhaps Stan was just desperate.” To that I say... fair enough! We don’t have enough canon material regarding teen Ford to decide how he behaved.

But we do have something regarding college Ford, just as he entered college, likely just months after Stan was kicked out—when he met Fiddleford, as described by Fiddleford himself on the TBoB website:

Lines such as “[...] my room mate, a freshman from New Jersey, barged in like he owned the place [...]” and “confidently declared” are very telling here. Of course, Ford didn’t stand up for Fiddleford in front of the whole class, but I honestly think that a) it was a different situation, considering the sheer amount of people/the presence of a public audience, and, partially due to that, b) it would have been a very unintelligent move if he didn’t have anything to defend Fiddleford with (to brag about something with zero backup, even if motivated by anger, is a very typical move of cartoon characters to create conflict for the plot... and also quite annoying to me personally, so I’m glad Ford didn’t go that route, hahah). Deciding to prove that Fiddleford’s theory was accurate first to shove it in everyone’s face second is a way smarter move and way, way more in line with Ford’s modus operandi, who—well—loves shoving the undeniable truth and/or his undeniable superiority in people’s faces. (From Journal 3, when Ford was already living in Gravity Falls: “I traveled to Northwest Manor to confront Old Man Northwest with the evidence of his family’s deceit [...]” and “Imagine the look on the dean of West Coast Tech’s face when he saw that the student he refused was now the next Einstein! Imagine how proud my family and hometown would be: the ‘Freak’ would return a hero!”) Personally, the vibes I get from this seem to indicate a very confident Ford already! A Ford who would have defended Stan if he weren’t already slowly internalizing and subconsciously agreeing with the things people said about his brother, or—at the very least—asked the principal about Stan’s fate, like Alex, Caryn, and Dipper did/would have done in his place.

We also have a clear parallel between baby Ford in The Jersey Devil’s in the Details and teen Ford in A Tale of Two Stans. Both have people telling them they’re better than Stan. One defends Stan strongly, the other listens quietly. Both feel betrayed by Stan. One forgives Stan, the other doesn’t. Filbrick was involved in both situations—one wasn’t afraid of being framed if it meant standing with his brother, the other didn’t stand with his brother even as his brother was kicked out of the house.

Let’s remember the Sibling Brothers’ words to him:

“One day you’re gonna realize that you’re too good for him.” Unfortunately, that prophecy came true! Way too true!

In the commentary of Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future, Jason Ritter (Dipper’s VA) suggested that Ford believed than “you can be held back by your siblings,” to which Alex agreed. It’s not necessary to accept Word of God to understand this fact, either:

I didn’t want to end all of this on such a bitter note, since my last intention with this post is to give people more reason to hate on Ford. He is actually my favorite character and, if the parallels between The Jersey Devil’s in the Details and A Tale of Two Stans teach us anything, it is that Ford did have reasons to distrust Stan/not believe Stan was telling the truth about it being an accident. (Stan lies really, really well when he wants to! See: Not What He Seems!) It is exactly because of him being my favorite character, though, that I am so fascinated by his characterization, and I think baby Ford’s loyalty and courage deserves more appreciation. Teen Ford, on the other hand—it was never courage that he lacked.

#ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines meta #stan twins #stan twins meta #gravity falls #gravity falls meta

514 notes · View notes

wheeboo · 2 months ago

Text

off the record | kim mingyu {TEASER}

SYNOPSIS. Kim Mingyu lives a double life. On one end, he’s the perfectly charming yet clumsy coworker at the Daily Planet. On the other, he’s saving the world. But when you–a sharp-witted journalist–are paired up with him on solving a mysterious case of kryptonite trafficking, Mingyu finds it harder and harder to keep his secret at bay. And falling for you only makes it worse, when he’s only given two choices: protect his identity, or risk everything by letting you in. PAIRING. superman!kim mingyu x journalist!fem!reader GENRE. superman au, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humour, slow burn, suggestive WARNINGS (FOR TEASER). swearing WARNINGS (FOR FULL FIC). swearing, suggestive content (kissing + implied sexual content), crimes being committed (hijacking, robbery, theft, illegal trafficking), violence (guns, fighting, etc), they're both in love with each other god help us all, mingyu in glasses yes, full warnings in the final fic <3 WORD COUNT (FOR TEASER). 1.5k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). estimated 20k+

notes: hello!! i'm alive and writing!! this is all inspired from this soft thought sent by my beloved @bananabubble which has been stuck in my head for the past many many months 😭 shout out to @tomodachiii for supplying the delusions and rooting for me too! i've only started writing this not that long ago and i'm already 14k in 💀 if you would like to be tagged for this fic when it's done, please send in an ask or comment down below <3

His cape flaps elegantly behind him as he carries the truck back to where all the police cars were coming in on the highway. Slowly, he lowers the truck back down onto the ground, a loud slam screaming through the air. At the corner of his eye, he notices one of the hijackers attempting to crawl through the broken window, but Mingyu is faster.

He yanks the man out of the truck by the collar and heaves him to the ground, but there’s something about the man’s close presence that physically makes Mingyu recoil back, and his eyes keenly focus on the faintest glow of green underneath the man’s shirt.

Is that a… kryptonite pendant?

“Who the hell gave that to you?” Mingyu questions angrily, gripping the man by the collar of his shirt.

“I-I don’t know!” the guy sputters weakly. “I just drive the truck, man! I was supposed to leave it at Pier 13𑁋”

“I didn’t ask where you park the damn thing,” Mingyu interjects furiously. “Tell me who gave it to you.”

“I don’t fucking know anything! I swear, dude!”

Before Mingyu could do anymore questioning, the police are beginning to swarm them now. He gives the man one last glare, and reaches over to grip the pendant in his hand, ripping it from around the man’s neck. A stinging ache settles in his muscles, but it wasn’t any normal kind of soreness𑁋it’s the kryptonite kind.

Yet with every ounce of strength he could muster, he tosses the pendant into the hands of an incoming officer. He already feels the pain lift off his skin as he bastardly drops the man back onto the ground, a fleet of other police officers coming to apprehend him.

“Put that thing into a lead case and to a lab immediately,” Mingyu groans out towards the dazed officer.

Before anyone could say another word, he’s already shot himself up towards the skies, leaving nothing but a gust of wind behind.

He’s back in his civilian clothes and landing on the roof of the Daily Planet within a few short minutes. His glasses are on, his tie straightened, hair still a bit windswept which he brushes back with his hands. He wipes away some dust off his clothes before sneaking back into the building, resuming his normal routine.

Mingyu already knows he’s late, and at this point, he’s accepted defeat. He could only hope an extra cup of coffee that he might have put a bit too much sugar in would be enough to make up for his unexpected detour.

When he arrives at the conference room𑁋six minutes late𑁋you’re already sitting there in one of the seats, flipping through the case files with your brows slightly furrowed. A pen is tucked behind your ear, and he swears he can smell your perfume from where he’s standing at the door. It’s like a scent of lavender, and something else. Perhaps warm and sharp, just like you.

Mingyu takes a singular step forward, and your head snaps back up.

“Hey,” You greet him. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” Mingyu breathes out, trying to keep casual. “Elevator broke down.”

You chuckle at that, pulling a chair out for him. “Does it break down often?”

He smiles faintly at your gesture, sitting down next to you. “You have no idea.” He slides one of the cups over to you. “For you, by the way.”

You glance inquisitively at the cup. “Oh. Thank you. Trying to bribe your way out of being late?”

“Depends if it works or not,” Mingyu remarks back, and he tries not to notice the way the corners of your lips twitch up into a small smile.

A soft laugh leaves you, and it makes something flutter beneath his ribs.

You take a sip from the coffee, and nearly choke it out. “Wow, that is dangerously sweet.”

“Ah, crap,” Mingyu mutters in embarrassment. “Sorry, I wasn’t, uh, paying attention to how much sugar I poured in.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, still coughing through a laugh. “It’s all good. I needed the sugar rush anyway.”

“Still,” Mingyu chimes back in. “I’ll get the ratio right next time, don’t worry.”

Next time.

The morning light shining in through the conference room windows shine on your cheekbones, casting flecks of gold across your skin and over the smile you were still wearing. His breath nearly catches in his throat at the sight𑁋the kind of smile that makes Mingyu almost forget he was mid-air just ten minutes ago and lifting a stolen truck with his own bare hands, freaking out about how you’d react to him showing up late.

“It’s funny, right?” You start, turning your body to face him. “How we went from a stupid coffee incident to being paired up for a case like this. Who would’ve thought?”

Mingyu hums thoughtfully, taking a sip of his own overly sweet coffee. “If I knew you were an A-list journalist, I probably would’ve risked being late to that meeting when we first met.”

You roll your eyes at him, tiling your head a little. “Why?”

Mingyu swallows a lump down in his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose shyly. “Uh… first impression, you know? It was your first day that week, so… I could’ve shown you the ropes of this place.”

Amusement glitters in your eyes, and you lean in, settling your chin on your hand. “We spilled coffee on each other, then you complimented my shirt. I don’t think anything is salvageable after that.”

“Okay, well, technically…” Mingyu starts, but his resolve falters quickly when he catches your gaze on him. “I didn’t plan to spill it on you. I was just nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” You repeat. “Why would you be nervous?”

Mingyu stiffens a little in his seat. “I mean, not nervous because of you, exactly. I mean, yes. You’re just kind of… I don’t know, intimidating?”

You stare at him.

“I’m saying you’re…” he pauses, knowing all too well he’s digging himself deeper into this hole he’s making. “...very cool. Like, cool-cool. Like, you have that unbothered, domineering energy𑁋okay, let me shut up.”

Your shoulders shake with a lighthearted laugh, and it seems to fill the large room more than it should. Mingyu only sinks down further into the chair, hoping that it could swallow him whole, as the heat spreads up to the tip of his ears. But even despite the embarrassment radiating off him, he can’t bring himself to look away from you for that long.

“That was probably the best trainwreck of a compliment I’ve heard ever,” You tease playfully while tapping your pen on the table as if to stabilise yourself.

Mingyu groans into his hand. “Please forget I said any of that.”

“Oh no.” You grin. “Sorry, I’m filing that away in our case notes.”

His mouth flies open. “You’re joking.”

You merely shrug. “You’ll never know.”

That silence that follows after is strangely comfortable. Maybe a bit awkward, but not in a bad way. It’s quiet enough for Mingyu to realise this is probably the most peace he’s felt in a while. The adrenaline from the hijacking and discovery of the kryptonite pendant is momentarily forgotten, dulled by the sunlight falling on your face and a smile that crawls right under his skin.

“Listen,” You begin, your tone turning a bit more serious, though sincere. “I know how people around here work. Trust is a weird currency nowadays. People hold their cards close to their chest, and sometimes, it doesn’t end well. We don’t have to share our life stories with each other. I just need to know…”

You pause for a moment. Mingyu is still waiting for you to continue.

“...that if things ever get messy, you’ll have my back.”

The weight of your words settle heavily on his chest. And there’s something about the way you’re looking at him𑁋steadily, hopeful𑁋that makes his stomach flutter. The same kind of feelings he gets when he’s flying too fast or perched at the edge of space and staring down at the place he’s dedicated to protect.

He’s not used to this kind of vulnerability. Not from others, and definitely not from himself.

“I will,” he finally says, voice low yet certain. “You don’t even have to ask.”

Mingyu notices the way you study him for a moment, as if you’re trying to read between the lines of his words and expressions. But then, the curve at your lips fades into something more softer, less amused, reassured.

“Good,” You murmur, sitting up straighter in the chair. “Because I’ll have yours, too.”

And in the back of his mind, Mingyu knows one thing for sure: that he’ll protect you. From thieves, criminals, and the quiet threats that no one else sees.

Even from himself, if it ever comes to that.

God, especially from himself.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@planetkiimchi @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @gigification @ahuiahoe

@svtficsarchive @lllucere @reiofsuns2001 @ppyopulii @smiileflower

@fujiswn

457 notes · View notes

excusemyobsessions · 5 months ago

Text

A Silent Poem

Zayne x MC/You

Genre: Smut, One Shot, Afab reader POV Word count: 4700 words

Little note: This is basically a transcript of the A Silent Poem audio, filled out with what I imagine is happening all throughout plus a little extra bit. That audio altered my brain chemistry and I really needed to get this out of my system because it was all I could think about. (Not sure if you can listen to the audio while you read it but if you try it, let me know!) Tags below!

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, sensual(?) massage, dry humping, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby/babe/honey/my love)

(Also posted on AO3)

Minors please do not interact.

You didn’t hear Zayne come in, nor into the house nor the bedroom.

Originally, you’d intended to wait for him, especially since you were at his house. However, exhaustion had taken over and you’d found yourself dozing off on his office chair.

After a text from him apologizing and saying he’d be home late, you’d given up all together and slipped off into bed, telling yourself you’d spend time with him in the morning. Maybe you’d make him cook breakfast.

It wasn’t all that bad, in fact. The pillow smelled like his shampoo and you found that quite soothing.

You fell into quite the sound sleep, only to be disturbed by the sink of the mattress when the weight of another body was added, and the feel of gentle lips against yours.

You stirred then.

“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”

Zayne’s hushed voice gently reached your ears and you forced open your eyes, blinking them a few times. He was smiling at you, lying next to you still in his work clothes, head propped up on his hand.

“You’re home,” you mumbled, shifting your position just a little, to face him.

“Yes, it’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…” he explained calmly, watching you get closer. “You were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn't resist the urge to kiss you.”

Over the covers, Zayne slipped an arm around you, resting his head on your pillow, his face barely a few inches away from yours. When he sighed, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheeks. He smelled of mints, his woodsy cologne and a faint scent of disinfectant, so characteristic after his long shifts at the hospital.

“Aren’t you tired? Go shower,” you whispered, one hand reaching out to rest against his chest.

“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion,” he responded.

He clearly had no intention to move for a while.

Backlit by the gentle glow of the moon coming in through the open blinds, you could see the outline of Zayne’s broad shoulders. The tension in the muscles after a long day of work.

You moved your hand higher, letting your fingers run over the line of this shoulder, up to rest on the side of his neck. You felt sorry for him, for the long hours, for how he was so busy he barely had time to relax. Such was his life, and you knew that from the start. But you couldn’t help wanting to provide a gentle place where he could relax, a warm embrace where he could rest.

“We should relax more,” you whispered out your thoughts, your fingers hooking around the nape of his neck.

The gentlest chuckle rumbled from his chest.

“We should relax more?” he repeated back, voice laced with mirth. “But how exactly… will you help me relax?”

There it was, the shift in his tone, the underlying challenge. You knew exactly where his mind had gone, yours too was directed down that same path along with his. Yet, you couldn’t help but want to mess with him just a little bit. Take away his tension before anything else.

You slipped out of the covers, hands hooking around his shoulders to push him down in the process, staying on your knees right next to him.

“You…” he let out in surprise.

The moonlight shone on his handsome features and you could see the raise of his eyebrows, the slight widening of his eyes looking straight up into yours. You gave him no time to react as your hands made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, and soon you were helping him out of it, tossing it away in whichever direction.

You realized he was holding his breath when you finally laid your hands on his bare skin. You let your fingers hook around his shoulders, digging in your palms with just the right amount of pressure to hear Zayne let out the air trapped inside his lungs along with an appreciative hum.

“I think you need a massage, your shoulders are too tense,” you told him, your voice laced with mirth.

You dug in a few more times, working your fingers along the muscles of his shoulders, from their very edge all the way to his neck. He responded to your touch with soft, appreciative hums, his hot breathing so very audible, laced with little sighs.

“Mmm… Massage, I see…” he whispered. “I thought…”

Oh, you were aware of his thoughts.

“What?” You blinked, feigning an amount of innocence you did not possess.

You could see the sudden embarrassment wash down on him. He averted his gaze, very lightly clearing his throat.

“Ahem, never mind,” he answered.

You continued massaging along his shoulders and when you made motion to move on to his neck, Zayne lifted his head for you, letting your fingers slip around the back of his neck. You hit a very specific spot at the nape and he responded scrumptiously, with an open mouthed gasp, followed by a shuddering breath.

“My eyes aren't as tired as they were before, and my neck and shoulders feel so much better,” he mumbled, clearly lost in the feel of your hands.

You could feel one of his hands come up to rest on your thigh, the comfortable warmth and weight of it through the fabric of your pajama pants.

You adjusted your position, when your legs began to feel a little dormant from the way they were bent under you. Zayne noticed, his fingers running over your thigh ever so lightly.

“Just sit on me. It'll be easier for you,” he whispered, most deliciously.

Butterflies took off in your stomach and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat. As thoughtful as it sounded, he knew exactly what he was doing with how he lowered his voice just like that. And your body responded instantly. Like he knew just what string to pluck to drag out the most beautiful melodies.

Holding on to his shoulders, you got on your knees again and swung one leg over him, stradling Zayne’s hips. When you put down your weight on him, the delighted hum that rumbled from his chest resonated deep within you. With your legs wide open you were very much aware of your own arousal, of how wet you already were. And he was very much aroused too, you could feel the outline of his length against you, through the fabric of both your clothes.

He leaned up just a little, fitting his head right next to yours, temple to temple.

“I feel much better already,” he purred in your ear.

You had to suppress a little whimper that almost let itself loose. But he was keen on pushing you further.

“It's more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world,” he told you.

His hands moved up to circle around the back of your knees, fingers running all the way up the back of your thighs and outlining your buttcheeks. You couldn’t help the way your breath trembled out through your lips. His hands stopped at your hips.

“Your lips are dry,” he noted, “Do you want some water?”

What you desperately wanted was a caesura, a moment to collect your already fleeting thoughts.

“Will you give it to me?” you mumbled, unsure where that request came from.

Zayne chuckled, a soft and low rumble.

“You haven't learned to drink it on your own yet?” He teased you.

However, his hands did move away, onto the mattress to prop himself up, making you slip just a bit further down, straight onto his lap. No sound left him but you could see how his eyes fluttered for a fleeting moment at the shifting of position.

You watched him as he reached for the jar of water at the bedside table and poured it into a cup. Cup half full in hand, he turned back towards you.

“Here.”

With his free hand, he lifted up your chin a little bit, and led the cup to your lips. He tilted it carefully, aiding you as you took a sip of the cold water, basking in how it slid down your throat. His eyes were focused on your lips and you could feel the blood quickly rushing to your face at how attentive and intense they were.

“Steady now…” he told you when in your bashfulness you forgot how to function.

The hand that was on your chin shifted to fully grip it, between his index finger and thumb, gentle but firm, tilting your head in the right direction so the water wouldn’t spill.

But it did anyway and he chuckled.

“Don't rush, it's spilling out.”

Was he aware of what he was doing to you with that hushed tone and his firm grip? It felt so obscene you wanted to melt right there and then.

He caught part of the water that dripped down your chin with his thumb but it still dribbled down your throat.

He turned to set down the cup and you wanted to whimper at the sudden distance, as if you weren’t still very much seated on his hard dick.

“It’s a mess now, look,” you noted, lifting a hand to push your loose hair away from your wet skin.

“All right, I'll help you clean up,” he responded, turning back to you.

Big hands came up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin right under your eyes when your eyelids fluttered close. The lips that met yours were soft and gentle, the kiss was warm, dragged out. First he kissed your lips then your chin, right where the water had dripped down.

“Is this what you wanted?” He teased you.

Oh, but you’d had enough of his teasing.

You pressed your hands against his shoulders and pushed him down onto the mattress again, following the motion, keeping the distance between you. Well, in fact, you closed it further, stealing a kiss from his lips.

“I knew it… You want to do this… to me again…”

His words were interrupted by your assault, kiss after kiss stolen from his lips to which he responded gently. He held your face in place and kept you there, mouth on his mouth, breathy kisses disrupting the silence.

“You’re… taking advantage… of the situation…” you accused him, arms circling his neck.

“What do you mean… I'm taking… advantage… of the situation?” he responded, feigning an innocence he too did not possess.

What a silly thing this was, accusations and defences being let out between kisses. You couldn’t help but smile into his kisses, fingers slipping into his hair, holding him in place, against your lips.

“Aren’t we just… helping each other relax?” he reminded, still part of his defence.

Oh, but he was far from innocent. Especially with how his hands began a slow travel down your shoulders and shoulder blades, continuing further down your sides. One of his legs also lifted, knee bent, his thigh causing you to slip just a little, right onto his hard-on. He let out a shuddering breath.

“You were… helping me clean up…” you observed, letting your hands slip away from his neck, further down to rest on his chest.

It took him a few heartbeats to answer. Clearly, the weight on his lap was making it as difficult for him to think as his cock pressed up to your wet core and his hands exploring down your hips.

“Well…” He paused for a kiss. “It's clean now.”

It was said in such a matter-of-fact way that you couldn’t help but want to punish him for so much teasing. You parted your legs just a little further, adding just a little more pressure onto his lap and he responded with a long, drawn out sigh. The hand that was tracing down the contour of your ass suddenly groped at the very junction between thigh and ass and you let out the most undignified little yelp.

“...Sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, so very gently, alarmed.

“I… was just surprised.”

The alarm in his eyes gave away to this softness that seemed to be reserved just for you. His hands moved back to your waist, a gentle but firm grip.

“It's been a long time since we last saw each other… I missed you,” he confessed in the most earnest way, so candid under the dim lights.

The moonlight traced the contours of his face, made his eyes glow in just the most beautiful way. You could see the love in them, the raw need for you.

He was being so honest, so unreserved. The butterflies in your stomach would not settle down. That or the heat between your legs.

You pushed yourself up with your hands which rested at his chest and grounded your knees. He’d lined up your hips just right with the earlier shifting of his leg so all you had to do was grind down against him. A long, slow movement, dragging your wet core over his length. You basked in how he shuddered and his breath hitched.

“Does this also need to relax?”

There was a little smile on his face. You wanted to tear away his ability to tease you, to turn him into a little puddle of incoherent thoughts.

You ground down your hips again. The friction was delightful.

“You look so tired, I want to help you,” you told him.

You lowered your upper body again, closing the distance, barely a few inches away from his lips.

“Of course. I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued,” he whispered, eyes glued to your mouth.

Ah, yes, that was exactly what you wanted. His eyelids slowly drooping in each movement of your hips, his breath growing heavier, the sweet sounds he couldn’t contain. His darling hums and little grunts mingled with your own little sounds, the little hums you couldn’t hide, the occasional quiet moan when you angled your hips just right. You could feel your underwear stuck to your drenched pussy.

“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques… Sometimes… Being skillful is what really makes a difference,” he was mumbling incoherently now, and you weren’t really sure he was aware of what he was saying.

It was awfully cute.

When he leaned up, you eagerly accepted the kiss he planted on your lips and leaned further down to deepen it. He breathed heavily against your mouth and moaned into it and suddenly your head was spinning. It was his hot kisses and the friction and how his hands couldn’t stay still and how they slipped under your shirt, feeling up every inch of skin.

“I think it's… getting more tense now,” he confessed, between a kiss.

Indeed it was. He was harder, that was for sure. You could feel it through the fabric. You wanted to feel it without it.

You moved your hands down to unbutton his pants, never stopping the rhythmic movements of your hips, so consumed by how he responded so beautifully.

“Perhaps… you could add a little more pressure?” he requested in such a small, hesitant voice.

You couldn’t help biting your lower lip, watching that sheepish look in his eyes as he gazed at you.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed out.

You finally pulled down his pants and let out his hard cock. Truth be told, there wasn’t an inch of this man that wasn’t beautiful. The same could be said about his cock, firm, heavy, with a hint of precum already glowing on the head. You took it in your hands and pressed it down against his stomach, perfectly lined right between your folds which were unfortunately still covered up by your clothes. But it didn’t matter because you saw his eyes roll back when you ground down your hips against his cock again, now with far less layers between you two.

One of his hands flew up, hooked around the nape of your neck and pulled you down against his mouth. The kiss was far more urgent this time, his grip harder, more desperate for contact, security. His tongue was in your mouth and you could taste the mint clearly now.

Suddenly, he took hold of your hips and tossed you down onto the mattress, rolling over and kicking off his pants and underwear in between. You loosely slipped your arms around his neck. He was shaking in your embrace, still lodged between your thighs.

When his eyes met yours, he broke into a gentle smile, accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“I wonder… How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?” he mused, clearly amused.

You grinned, quite proud of your endeavor and the reaction you had earned from him.

“I just… really missed you,” you confessed, capturing a strand of his dark hair between your fingers and giving it a little twirl. “Did you miss me?”

Zayne was busy dragging off your pants and underwear. You heard the dry sound they made, falling on the floor somewhere in his room.

“Yes, of course. I missed you too,” he responded earnestly.

His eyes and hands slid down your body, fingers soon busy pushing up your shirt so he could freely run them down the extent of your now exposed skin.

He was earnest, but far too distracted for your taste.

“How much did you miss me?” you whispered, right in his ear.

“How much?” he repeated, a little surprised.

His eyes returned to yours and he seemed to quickly catch up on the underlying impatience behind your words. There was a sudden hint of amusement in his fiery gaze.

One of his arms came down to circle your waist, supporting his weight and lifting up your hips just a little. His other hand continued further down to wrap around his length and angle it correctly. Holding his cock, he gently rubbed its head right up against your hard clit, easily teasing you, sliding it back and forth a few times because of how wet you were. It stole a precious little moan from you, one hand flying up to your lips. He chuckled.

“From another perspective, I suppose I'm also your special dose of medicine,” he whispered.

He dragged his cock further down and slowly thrust it forward, inch by inch into you, lowly humming his appreciation, eyelids fluttering. He didn’t quite go all the way in, just halfway. It was enough to have you arching up into him, holding back a moan by biting your lower lip.

“Rest in my embrace… Just like this…” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling your earlobe.

He shifted a little, just to slip his other arm around you, encasing you in his warm embrace, so utterly connected even your hearts were beating to the same rhythm, to the same cadence.

“Now…” he began, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “Let me tell you…” Another kiss. “How much I missed you when we couldn't see each other.”

Zayne hummed into another kiss, slowly pulling back his hips then pushing them forward again, burying himself in you just a little further. And then he did it again, the same slow motion, pulling back and then pushing in again. He kept your mouth busy, kissing you deeply, any sound you made melting on his tongue.

“Relax,” he told you.

His hand caressed your hip which indeed seemed to be more tense each thrust of his hips. You gripped onto his neck tighter, seeking more contact and he tightened his grip on you. You could feel the weight of his body on you, constricting yet soothing.

He rolled his hips back and buried himself deeper in your drenched hole. The sudden and overwhelming sense of fullness, made you shudder and whimper into his mouth.

“I'm sorry,” he responded instantly, pressing an apologetic kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

He dragged his hips back, and you found yourself shaking, whining at the loss.

Zayne himself seemed a little lost, sheepish, pressing yet another kiss now to your cheek.

“Does it still hurt?” He was just so genuinely concerned, stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

You wanted to reply but soon he was angling his hips differently yet the result was the same when he thrust back into you. You were just so full of him. Your breath hitched, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

“What about this?” A hot kiss. “Do you feel better now?” Another hot kiss.

This man was just so careful, so attentive. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable no matter what yet he was clearly frantic, unable to stop his hips from rolling back and thrusting back in, clearly so lost in the feeling of you.

“Or… do you want to change positions?” he asked, attentive eyes scrutinizing every little reaction from you.

You were overwhelmed, by his questions, by the feeling of him. You needed more and he was being so slow, so careful.

“Babe, just do it and stop asking questions,” you snapped, gripping his hair to make him stop and look at you.

You saw the very clear shock of your reaction flash across his features even in the dark. How he blinked, how his mouth was slightly agape. He was dumbfounded for a few heartbeats and then his lips curved into a smile. Amusement flashed in his eyes yet again.

“What do you mean… ‘just do it and stop asking questions’...” he repeated, the grin very clear in his voice.

You opened your mouth to speak, attempting a response but all that came out was a “Just- hmmm… ah…”

Zayne rolled back his hips and thrust deep into you and all coherent thought shattered into little pieces. And he had the audacity to keep teasing you while keeping that delicious pace, his scorching cock slipping almost out then fully back into you, the most obscene wet sounds coming from where your bodies were connected.

“Didn't you ask me how much I missed you?” he purred.

He captured your lips again and drank up all the sweet sounds you made. He seemed quite lost in it too, his tongue dancing with yours, his hips relentless. He pulled away from your lips after a bit.

“So much time has passed, no? Don't you want me to say something?”

He was fully into this whole teasing mode. From the way he rolled his hips to the way his voice was coated in honey which dripped with every word.

The duvet was bunched up right next to you so reached out to hide your face with a corner of it. It also muffled a moan which slipped through your lips.

“I swear…” you threatened, really not threatening at all with how your body shuddered when he plunged back in.

“...Tired already? You want to sleep?”

He deliberately dropped his voice. It resonated within you just like it had earlier and made you tense up. You could feel your walls squeeze his cock and he shuddered on top of you. He shifted his position and you heard his breath right next to your ear.

“We're not done here. Quitting halfway isn't something I would do.”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“The night is still young. We have plenty of time to learn from each other.”

Zayne was right. When you two got tangled it felt like a new experience every time. A learning curve. A trial and error. Every time you'd find new keys to press, new strings to pluck. You’d learn how his body was in fact quite sensitive, how his hands were gentle but firm, how they were in fact quite talented. And everytime he’d learn new ways to make you squirm, to make you blush and to make you wet.

A big hand came to drag the duvet away and his lips captured yours, urgently. Like he was trying to communicate something words simply could not. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locking onto yours, burning with unspoken desire, unresting tenderness.

“Let me hear your voice,” he pleaded.

He rolled his hips in deep and drank up the moan that fell from your lips straight onto his tongue. He shuddered above you, tensed shoulders, arms gripping you tighter.

He was done teasing.

Every moan that slipped through your lips added flame to the fire, and had him grow more restless, more desperate, the thrusts of his hips more erratic.

“Right now, just like this,” he mumbled, coherent thought seemingly slipping through his fingers yet again.

He kissed you, deep, teeth clashing, his tongue exploring your mouth as if to taste you, like he could suddenly forget what your lips felt like, what your mouth tasted like.

“Say my name…” he breathed out.

He was begging for it, as if his name on your tongue was all he ever wanted to hear, all he ever needed.

“Zayne… baby… ahh…”

He moaned against your mouth, thrusting harder into you, burying himself in so deep your back arched and your head fell back, giving him full access to your neck. And he buried his face right up against your throat, planting open-mouthed kisses over it, suckling at the skin, breathing heavily against you.

He picked up his pace, the most filthy squelching sounds echoing throughout the room, mingled with his grunts and heavy breath and your unhinged moans which you could no longer control.

You slipped your arms around his neck again and held onto him tight, fingers dug into his shoulders, needing support and contact and to feel the wild beating of his heart right up against yours.

“Zayne, baby, don’t-don’t stop,” you begged of him.

Your hips lifted to meet his thrusts again and again and Zayne moaned deliciously onto your skin. He moved his head again, to suck at your earlobe now, his fingers dug into your hips.

“You feel so good, my love, so so good…” he mumbled into your ear.

You deliberately squeezed his cock when he pushed it back in and he shuddered in such a way that had you moan ridiculously against his shoulder.

You were just so lost in each other, nothing else mattered.

Zayne was shaking above you but so were you, his thrusts slowing down just a little so he could savor the feeling of slipping his cock deep into your hot pussy, the heat just so dizzying, so addicting.

“I’m close,” he breathed out into your ear.

“Come for me, baby, I want… I want to feel you… I’m close too,” you told him.

Zayne moaned. He ground his hips in so deep it was almost overwhelming again. Yet, you tightened your grip and held him there, meeting his thrusts to encourage him.

He pulled back just enough to capture your lips once more. He rocked his hips slow but deep, hard enough to make you sure you were going to be sore the next day. But it didn’t matter. He moaned against your mouth, sloppy kisses replacing tender words, hot and breathy.

And he pushed into you again and again until he was holding onto you like a lifeline, rolling his hips yet again to bury his cock deep inside, the loud squelching sound and his breathy moan sending you over the edge.

Zayne’s head fell on your chest while yours dropped back onto the mattress, back arched as he filled you up to the brim, riding out his height along with yours.

When both of you came down from heaven, Zayne could no longer hold himself up. He crashed down onto you, both of you panting, and sweaty. You moved your hand to run your fingers through his damp hair and he hummed against your chest, exhausted, glowing in content, satiated.

“I love you,” you whispered down to him.

He shifted, turning his head so he could look up at you, eyelids clearly far too heavy on his bleary eyes.

“I love you, too” he whispered back, with the most tender smile on his features.

One of his hands moved up to slip into yours, fingers tangling with your own. With your free hand you pulled the covers over you two, bending your neck to press a kiss to his forehead.

The shower could wait.

638 notes · View notes

toriaaniin · 23 days ago

Text

The Five Moods

Today brought us 35 professionally staged, joyless paparazzi photos of Luke and Antonia riding Lime bikes. And with them, a wave of fan reactions across social media. I’ve been watching (when I should be working my day job!), and it’s clear the Lukola fandom isn’t having one collective response. We’re having several.

The personas below are pulled from what I’ve read in Tumblr posts and submissions across the fandom today (my AI Simon helped me track them) — and in particular from the comments left on my own post as well as those Bianca kindly shared from her inbox, and of course Three Act Tragedy's GIF masterpiece. They reflect different tones, but there’s an unmistakable throughline: this situation is feeling… done.

So in the spirit of solidarity (and mild catharsis), here are the Five Fandom Personas currently riding the PR rollercoaster:

The Amused but Over It

“I almost miss the feeling of ‘could these be real’ from last summer… Now, I just giggle and continue my day.”

Some are laughing — but it’s the kind of laughter that comes from frustration. Not rage, not even sadness. Just a growing sense of “seriously, we’re still doing this?” Disappointment wrapped in irony. When the play gets too obvious, sometimes all you can do is giggle at the absurdity.

The staging is transparent

The costuming is cartoonish

The lack of joy is the biggest tell

And the fandom’s eye roll? Deep and deserved

The Disillusioned Realist

“Watching all of this — especially BAFTAs and now this circus — is painful… This is frankly a big, unfunny joke.”

This is the heartbreak talking. These fans have stuck around hoping for something different, something honest — and instead, we’re still getting flat performances and tired PR games. They’re not angry. Just… tired. And quietly embarrassed on behalf of people they admire.

They still like Luke

They want to believe in something better

But they can’t pretend this is working

And the longer it drags out, the harder it is to watch

The Satirist

“You look ridiculous.” “Oh no I don’t, I look holidazzling.”

This group copes through satire — and today, Three Act Tragedy delivered a masterclass. Her GIF post told the story better than any caption could.

If this whole saga is performance art, The Satirists are its cheeky narrators.

They don’t just mock the plot — they storyboard it

They match every photo with a GIF, every expression with a punchline

They know it’s all a charade — so they turn it into a comedy

Not because it’s funny, but because otherwise it’s just too absurd to tolerate

And Bianca’s response to her Anon said it best:

A: “We either stop giving them ideas… or start giving them outlandish ones for our own amusement.” B: “I say they go roller skating next time.”

The Satirists are choosing amusement — the circus has overstayed its welcome — but they’ll still bring popcorn to the show.

The Conspiracy Comedian

“When you search for Nicola on the pap site, the Luke & Antonia photos come up as the latest uploads. Is the agency trying to tell us what’s what in a sneaky way? 👀”

These fans are dialed into the metadata, the tags, the timing, the back-end breadcrumbs. They’re not crying — they’re cackling. They see how forced this all looks, and they’re connecting dots faster than PR can un-tag Nicola’s name from a pap gallery.

They know how Josh Mawr’s lens works

They track timestamps like Sherlock

And they’re not above saying, “BFFR”

(Because really, what are those socks?)

The Script Supervisor

“So let me get this straight: Luke liked her photo and went for a bike ride — on the same day? Busy man.”

This crew notices everything. From the late-but-same-day like to the emotionless biking to the fact that again it’s Josh Mawr snapping the pics. They’ve stopped asking “why” and started taking notes on the screenplay. Because clearly, we’re all extras in someone else’s episode of PR Mad Libs.

They clock repetition

They question intention

They dissect delivery

And they are not buying what’s being sold

So where are we now?

Somewhere between eye-roll and exhaustion. The fandom doesn’t need a big moment. We don’t even need a resolution. We just need an end to this particular saga — or at least a break from the charade.

Whether you’re still laughing, disillusioned, or mentally storyboarding the next PR stunt (Josh Mawr in a GoPro helmet?), know this: you're not alone.

We see the script. We read the subtext. We know this isn’t it.

And when the curtain finally falls on this storyline? You better believe the standing ovation will come from us.

In the mean time... Stay hydrated. Stay cheeky. Stay sharp.

Aaniin Xxx

Edited to add: If you're feeling one of these moods — or all of them in a single scroll — you're not alone. I see you. I meme with you. I sigh with you. I am you!

#lukola

163 notes · View notes

jazjelspen · 1 year ago

Text

my angel baby [part 3]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )

(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)

(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )

It is the day of the court meeting.

You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.

You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.

Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.

Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.

You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.

Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.

Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.

Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.

Guess you're right on time, Alastor.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"

The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."

You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.

She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."

Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.

Oh and so did Alastor's right after.

"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."

Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.

"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!

Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.

Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.

You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?

The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.

The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.

"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.

You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.

Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"

Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."

Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.

Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.

"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.

"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.

------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------

The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.

So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?

Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.

It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.

Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.

Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.

-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------

Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..

And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.

Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.

Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.

"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.

"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.

Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"

"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.

Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"

"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."

She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.

You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."

Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.

Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.

With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"

'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.

You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.

"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.

You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.

You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.

The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..

Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.

Right?

Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?

Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.

You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.

You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.

You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.

"Fine. Let's get to work."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.

With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.

"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.

"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.

"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."

Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.

Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.

He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.

He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.

"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."

He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.

Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.

"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.

"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.

Oh..

Right, yes, red.

"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.

He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.

How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.

No one better have saw it.

You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.

"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.

You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.

Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..

'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'

"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.

In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.

Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.

Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.

But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.

Oh god, he's grown soft.

This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.

But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.

His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.

He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.

Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.

He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.

If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.

Oh if only, only she were here now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!

most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)

2K notes · View notes

melk-maid · 3 months ago

Text

warnings: everyone is aged up 21+, gn reader, player/farmer reader, fluff, mutual pining, idk what the fuck to tag fluff??? it's just cute and sweet ok!!! synopsis: sebastian was convinced by his mom to come lend a hand on the farm, leading to him being introduced to most of the animals and practising farm life.

note: my first sdv fic!! pls be gentle lmao i fell in love with sweet emo boy so fast and he literally wouldn't leave my mind before i wrote this LMAO sweet little boy just deserves the world aaaaa enjoy~♡ banner portrait is a mod by nongdarn minors & ageless blogs dni - you will be blocked

Stepping out the front door, you inhale the fresh, spring valley air. It's a lovely and warm day, even at six o'clock in the morning; you're awake and ready to take on the day. You expected to be greeted by your cat who tends to get a headstart roaming around the grounds waiting for you, but instead, an emo fringe welcomed you good morning.

"Sebastian?"

He stood up straight after hearing your door open, initially leaning on the fence in front of your house, eyes drooping in the early spring warmth. The click of your door bolted him awake, chewing nervously on his lip ring and offering you a small wave.

"Hey." Sebastian smiles slightly, a signature look whenever you catch him around the mountains or at the saloon.

You quickly grow remorseful and embarrassed at your surprise. Hopefully he isn't offended. "Hey! What's up? I don't think I've ever seen you around this part of town."

With hands shoved deep into his pockets, Sebastian tries to relax his shoulders and play it cool. "Yeah, I came to help around the farm. My mom told me you could use the extra hands."

More accurately, Robin knows about Sebastian's crush on you and had insisted he visit.

You huff a laugh remembering you spoke to Robin yesterday, telling her about your long days on the farm since everyone makes the most orders around this time of year. It was a passing complaint as you put together a produce basket for her to take home, an extra thank you for the new silo she had just finished building.

"That's really sweet of you," You smile and it's brighter than the sun, "I'm happy to let you help me out with my daily chores. Follow me, we can check the chickens first."

Sebastian trails close behind as you traverse through the farm. It's amazing how you've transformed this land in just a few years — even with the help of his mom, it's still admirable just how beautiful and organised the place is.

Egg basket already in hand, you stand outside the wooden door of your coop. "How are you with ducks? I forgot to mention that the ducks live here too."

The way you turned to Sebastian and asked him so sincerely makes his heart melt.

"I'm okay with ducks…I think."

You laugh as you open the door, ushering Sebastian through before anyone can make a great escape. Inside the coop is rather luxurious for some chickens and ducks. There's bales of hay stored on shelves above and below the chicken beds, curtains drawn in some of the makeshift cubicles for the birds to get some privacy, an automatic feeder sitting in the corner that's filled to the brim with seeds.

Chickens cluck at their guests, the odd honk or two overshadowing the consistent tune as some of the feathery residents stomp their way over to investigate.

"Good morning," You greet the animals with a cheer, stepping further inside and expertly avoiding the wandering birds.

Sebastian isn't anxious but he is definitely out of his element. The smell he expected but experiencing it is different. A chicken pecks at his boots, interrogating him on his intentions in their home. He daren’t move lest he upset anyone, preferring to avoid any kind of catastrophe or coup. After a moment, you realise Sebastian hadn't moved from the door, laughing at his stoic frame watching his shoe be pecked at.

"You can move, they won't bite, promise." Sebastian feels his face flush when you call out to him, chuckling awkwardly and carefully lifting his leg away from the chicken. "That's Brenda, don't worry she's just nosy when there's guests. The others won't bother you."

He's careful to join you, ensuring he doesn't step on any other wandering residents, both those who are nosy about his presence and others completely unphased. You giggle hearing his faint gasp after he sees who you're tending to. A big, round ball of glossy, black feathers sits inside one of the small cubicles, red eyes peering into Sebastian's soul.

"This is Satan." You introduce them to Sebastian. "Satan, this is Seb. I think he likes you."

There was an almost embarrassed grunt from the man beside you. He didn't think he was that obvious or predictable, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't infatuated with the dark chicken. Feathers shine in the low morning lights that peer through the windows, a gorgeous blend of purples and reds can be seen as you pet Satan.

"You can pet her if you're feeling brave, might keep her distracted while I see if she's left a present for us."

Sebastian isn't new to animals, his dad had a dog when he was a kid, however it seems that farm animals are a whole new experience. Not wanting to chicken out and eager to impress, Sebastian reaches in and gently pets the body of Satan with the back of his hand. The bird stares at him, as though she knows he's nervous. Dark eyes stare back at her. Maybe there's a connection there; loners who would rather hide behind curtains than mingle with the crowd, weird and different to everyone else, misunderstood—

"Oh look, Satan did leave us a present!"

You hold up a strange, yet gorgeous egg. Onyx with large crimson spots. It shares similarities to the chicken it came from and Sebastian can't hide his interest this time.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" He breathes out but you don't notice he's looking at you when he responds. "It's one of a kind."

Your snort pulls Sebastian out of his trance. "I've had a few of these so I wouldn't say one of a kind, but they're rare for sure. No one ever wants to buy them so whenever I have any, I make myself a jar of mayonnaise with them — it turns out black instead of pale yellow" He chuckles at the thought. "Do you want to keep it?"

"Keep it?" Sebastian blinks and you laugh.

"Yeah, consider it a gift!" The egg is carefully laid in the egg basket hooked in the crook of your arm, pulled out and passed to Sebastian. "It can stay in there for now just so nothing happens but after we're done I'll give it a once over and you can take it home with you."

A gift…he doesn't know what to say. It feels a little more serious and sentimental than you're treating it. While he's flattered and excited over the idea, you're brushing off the action with grace. Still, Sebastian leans into the way his heart flutters with fondness, thanking you after clearing his throat.

In the coop you introduce the rest of the gang, though if Sam or Abby were to ask him any of their names, Sebastian would have a hard time remembering anyone besides Satan — for obvious reasons. He nodded along anyway and enjoyed helping you collect more of the eggs that had been laid. There were tons and he even learnt that ducks lay eggs too, of which are a big hit in the town.

With an egg basket full of produce, you and Sebastian leave them in a safe space before heading towards the cow barn. Much like the coop, a slough of noises greet the pair of you when the door is opened. Cows are much louder than he expected, especially when they're harmonising with one another, though you don't seem to flinch like he did. Thankfully you didn't notice — or at least didn't mention it — along with the dusting of pink across his cheeks. You're the city kid and yet you've adapted so well to the valley life. He has spent most of his life here and still isn't accustomed to a farm specifically.

"Good morning everyone!"

A chorus of moo's grow louder as the cows respond, returning the good morning sentiment.

It's admirable just how much the animals on the farm seem to love you. Never for a second did he think you'd abuse them or treat them poorly, but it's clear already that you genuinely care for them much more than produce machines. There's love and dedication and bonds that you've built with each animal. Sebastian only feels a smidge of jealousy that they have your love and not him.

This time the animals were held back behind locked fences so Sebastian wasn't immediately swarmed like the chickens. That didn't mean that the cows weren't intrigued by his presence, though. They're bigger than he ever thought and he's quick to realise the chickens and ducks were nothing in comparison — he could pick them up with both hands, carry them around or step around them where necessary, their beaks pinching at his skin if it weren't for the extremely skinny jeans he wore.

The cows? Most of them matched him in height.

"Are you okay?" You ask Sebastian while grabbing a milk pail, a smile playing on your lips as you try to remain serious and sincere. Clearly his anxiety was showing again.

"I'm okay," He nods and it's not entirely a lie, "They're bigger than I thought."

Your laugh is enough to ease the tightness in his chest, replacing the feeling with tiny sparks. "They're just as harmless as the chickens, if not friendlier! The girls here are lovely."

While he tries to take in your words of comfort, Sebastian can't help but feel like all the cows in here are well acquainted with his meat consumption habits. Black eyes staring holes into him, the cows press themselves up against the barriers and hang their heads over the railing, probably eager to take a bite out of him to see how he likes it. The chickens were judgemental but it was because he was in their space, an intruder in their home, someone who needs to be analysed and assessed for if he belongs. The cows know exactly who Sebastian is along with any and all bad things he's done in his life.

Working on the farm might make him a vegetarian.

Following you towards the first pen, albeit slowly, Sebastian hovers behind you and watches as you pet the cows cheek. "Sebastian, this is Leelah, Leelah this is Sebastian."

"Hi." Is all that's offered to her with a short wave. His hand is quickly stuffed back into his pocket, watching as Leelah judges him.

You laugh at his curt greeting but don't push him. Instead, you slide into her pen and lay down fresh bedding and refill her food bucket. Sebastian watches on the other side, enjoying the view — in the least creepy way he possibly can. Leelah watches him rather than focusing on what you're doing. If he didn't know any better, Sebastian would believe she knew what he was thinking.

Much like the chickens, you move between the other cows, introducing Sebastian to them by name and giving them all extra love and attention. You wanted him to become comfortable around them, to be brave and confident, to give at least one of them a single pet. The more cows he's introduced to, the more relaxed he seems to become. Glancing at him over your shoulder while you pet the cows and tend to their pens, you watch the way his shoulders seem to slowly drop, becoming more comfortable around the gentle giants.

"This lovely little lady is Dolly."

She isn't a black and red cow, nor can she lay any eggs of a similar colour, but she is the sweetest cow on the farm. Sebastian had inched closer to the pens with each cow, standing next to you as you pet an enthusiastic Dolly. It seems like she'd been waiting for her turn, excited over the new guest as she reaches her snout towards Sebastian. He's caught off guard but it doesn't deter him.

"Dolly is the friendliest of everyone here, she's such a sweetheart, aren't you?" You explain while scratching each side of Dolly's cheeks, something she seems to love as she leans into your touch with her snout pointed upwards.

After you had done and was ready to slide into her pen, you catch Sebastian reaching out. He copies your motion, curling his fingers to scratch at Dolly's cheek. It's a strange sensation as her fur is rough to the touch but smooth under his hand. You watch as he smiles — a genuine, wide smile — while Dolly enjoys the attention. It's cute, you think.

When her tongue slips out to swipe over his hand, Sebastian pulls away instinctually, grimacing at the saliva coating him. You can't help but laugh and there's a bubble of laughter in his throat too.

"That's so sweet Dolly, you trying to kiss Seb? You must like him, huh?" She tries to reach out again, tongue lapping in an attempt to show him more affection. "You good?"

Sebastian takes the rag you offered that typically hangs out of your pants, chuckling as he wipes away the generous kiss Dolly gave him. "Yeah, it just caught me off guard. She really is friendly."

You giggle and take back the rag, unlocking her pen door and asking, "Want to try milking? Today is her day."

Instinctually he was going to say no. Still a little nervous around the animals and fearful of doing something wrong, but he trusts that you wouldn't offer him to try if it were so difficult. Sebastian nods and hums, following you inside the pen and laughing off Dolly's excitement when he steps inside.

You settle the cow and ready her for milking, testing that she was going to produce something before letting Sebastian try. He follows your instructions carefully, watching the way your hand grips one of the udders and how you squeeze.

When it was his turn grabbing the udder, he visibly grimaces and flinches. You can't help but laugh because you were the same not that long ago.

"Weird isn't it? Doesn't feel like a nipple you're used to."

Sebastian's ears burn, along with the entirety of his face. Thank god he's crouched down and hiding beneath this cow so you can't see. With a couple of extra instructions and your hand on top of his, Sebastian was milking Dolly like a professional. He was proud of himself, even if it wasn't much milk. It's labour intensive and his body just isn't used to that kind of movement.

The pigs and sheep were a little easier to deal with — partially because Sebastian stayed behind the fences. You let them roam free for a couple of hours in the early sun, though it was mostly because it's easier to refill their feed when they're outside and distracted. The sheep were entirely uninterested in his presence while some of the pigs came trotting over immediately, sniffing and huffing little 'oinks' at him. When you come out of the pig barn covered in mud and hay, Sebastian is glad he made the right choice to stay outside.

"I'm fucking hungry." You groan. "All these years and taking care of the animals still takes it out of me sometimes."

Sebastian was carrying the pale of milk while you had the eggs, heading back towards your home to organise the morning's spoils. You hadn't even started on the crops today and you know the radishes you planted are going to be ready for plucking.

"It's hard work, I'm not sure if I would ever be able to do it."

You laugh and Sebastian's stomach flips. "I didn't think I could either when I first got here." There's a wistful sigh that fills the still air between you. "Thanks for helping me out this morning."

There wasn't actually much he did to help. Sebastian was introduced to most of the animals, given a void egg, interrogated by various animals and milked a cow for a few minutes. If anything, he was pleasant company for your mundane morning.

"No problem. It was fun."

"Yeah?" You beam at him and Sebastian turns away to hide his smile. "Well, you're always welcome here if you ever want to get away. I know you don't like to socialise too much, so you can go back home and I'll handle the crops after lunch."

The pair of you had stopped by your porch, smiling up at Sebastian with a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. He huffed a laugh, short and awkward, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"You don't count." He admits. "I like hanging out with you."

Your smile widens and this time it was your turn to feel your stomach flipping and sparks of fireworks setting off in your chest. It feels childish to giggle but you were flattered.

"If that's the case why don't I make you lunch? I have tons of produce from the past couple of days that needs eating."

Sebastian nods and hums. "Sure, I'd like that."

#sebastian x reader #sebastian x farmer #sebastian x player #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv x farmer #sebastian stardew valley x farmer #sebastian sdv x player #sebastian stardew valley x player #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian x player #sdv sebastian x farmer #stardew valley sebastian x player #stardew valley sebastian x farmer

293 notes · View notes

sevsgiirl · 3 months ago

Text

— ambessa being a sugar mommy and spoiling reader

synopsis: after graduating from university, you were struggling to make ends mean. thankfully, you landed a job in a huge company… whose ceo happens to have already set her sights on you.

tags: ceo!ambessa, younger!reader, oral sex, office sex, imbalanced power dynamics.

note: I’ve recently finished lipstick devil on webtoon and I just NEEDED to get this idea off my chest. I’m planning to turn this idea into a longer fic but for now here’s some headcanons about ceo!ambessa spoiling you :’)

𖥔 you honestly weren’t used to it. all your life you’ve learned to monitor your expenses, to never spend beyond your budget even when you had extra money to spare — to put other people’s needs before your own.

𖥔 after graduating university and working enough minimum wage jobs to build up your resume, you finally landed a position on noxus corp. as part of the marketing sales department.

𖥔 professor grayson referred you to one of her friends who works at the company, who then asked you for your portfolio and after a month of processing your applications, you passed the interview and got accepted.

𖥔 it was a miracle you even got accepted given how strict the requirements were, but it seems as though the head office deemed you qualified.

𖥔 the first couple of weeks working at the firm went by smoothly. it was your typical 9-5 office job, you never understood why your co-workers said that the position isn’t for the weak.

𖥔 that was until you met her. ambessa merdarda. the ceo herself.

𖥔 on the day you first saw her you almost slid past her peripheral, but unlucky for you, nothing goes unnoticed by ambessa.

𖥔 when she noticed you, she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. at how the pencil skirt you wore stretched deliciously around your hips and how it stopped below your knees. it was long enough to be work appropriate, but your figure left a lot for one’s imagination to go crazy.

𖥔 how every time she caught a glimpse of you at the breakroom or when you bent down to retrieve something from the drawers, she’d watch the way your ass swelled in the tight skirt. making her lick her lips before she forced herself to avert her gaze.

𖥔 however, it became harder and harder to resist you. eventually, she asked one of the lower departments to hand her the spreadsheet for the week’s overview, even though that’s usually assessed by the manager. but she needed an excuse to see you up close.

𖥔 as if it wasn’t enough, she asked them to have you deliver it for her by name.

𖥔 “I’ve seen the new hire. please. have her deliver the spreadsheet for me. I want to know if she’s capable.”

𖥔 she knows it’s bullshit. she never cared to check how competent the new hires were because those were mundane details she left others to do.

𖥔 but the second you knocked on her door and stepped inside her office, all doe-eyed and shy, your voice quiet as you called out her name “ms. medarda?” she knew right then and there she had to have you.

𖥔 six months have passed since and here you are now, sprawled on her desk with your skirt ridden up to your thighs as your slick dripped from her cherry coated lips down to her chin as she ate you out like a woman starved.

𖥔 “bessa…” you mewled as you threw your head back and gripped the edge of the mahogany desk, feeling your orgasm approaching.

𖥔 she hummed, pulling away from your swollen clit to place a chaste kiss on your inner thigh.

𖥔 “you’ve been so good to me, dear.” she purred as her piercing eyes looked up at you “I’ve made reservations for us this evening. you’ve been working so much these past few weeks, it’s only fair I return the favor.”

𖥔 and return the favor she did.

𖥔 that’s how ambessa prefers to spoil you in the relationship. she’s tried multiple times to make you resign at the company, saying you didn’t need the job because she could provide for you. but you were insistent that you still need to make a living for yourself because you never know when the circumstances will turn on you.

𖥔 she was quite offended by the implication that she’ll ever grow bored of you, then again she’d be lying if she said that your practical mindset wasn’t what drew her in to begin with. so she let it slide. but that still didn’t stop her.

𖥔 so she’s been working hard to convince you that just isn’t the case. that she is serious about you and your relationship. that she could see it working it out on the long run and that you could rely on her to fulfill all your needs.

𖥔 and so she does it by showering you not only with mind blowing sex in between meetings and after you clock out of your shift, but also by surprising you with fresh bouquets of flowers on your desk every morning.

𖥔 people in the office likely figured out what was happening between you two but were just too scared to ask you about it, especially knowing how scary ambessa is.

𖥔 you weren’t used to being the center of attention let alone when it comes to personal matters such as your relationship, and you’ve told her that. but that still doesn’t stop her from spoiling you left and right.

𖥔 “if others cause you trouble about it, let me know. I’ll have them fired.”

𖥔 she swore it was a joke when you reprimanded her about the threat, but you knew deep down if you actually had a problem she’d stay true to her word.

𖥔 with that, your co-workers never spoke a word about it. even when the bouquets turned to expensive chocolates imported from europe, to a huge teddy bear that was about the same height as you, to a new office desktop you realized was a mac computer, completely different from the others that your office mate jayce couldn’t conceal his surprise.

𖥔 “how come she gets a mac computer while we have a lenovo?” he exclaimed only to get yelled at by the others telling him to shut up and move on.

𖥔 or when she called you into her office one afternoon saying she had a surprise “I just remembered you telling me you’ve had the same phone since your junior year.” she smiled before handing you a white paper bag “to go along with the computer.”

𖥔 and sure enough, there was a new phone inside.

𖥔 “bessa…” you sighed as you gave her one of your failed attempts of a glare “you can’t keep buying me gifts like this.”

𖥔 “well, I asked you to take my card but you said-“

𖥔 “that’s not what I mean.” you argued while she reached forward and smoothened the furrow between your eyebrows.

𖥔 “just let me spoil you, my love.” she said, wrapping her strong arms around you as she pulled you against her chest “you never known when to take a break or receive any reward for your hard work. so let me. let me spoil you rotten.”

𖥔 you bit your lower lip, not being able to hide the way your cheeks reddened at her words “you smother me too much.”

𖥔 she smirked as she leaned down and nosed at your jaw “I’d give you the world if I could, dear.” she muttered “just say the word. if only you stopped being so stubborn and resigned, you could come live with me and you’d never have to work a day in your life. just you, with all the luxuries in the world as you wait for me on our bed…”

𖥔 her hand reaches down to cup you from underneath your skirt and you couldn’t repress the moan that slipped past your lips.

𖥔 she lets out a groan feeling your soaked cunt “then I’ll come home, fuck you from night until morning before it’s time for me to leave for work again. and all you have to do is be a good, doting little wife for me.” she gently takes your jaw in her hand to capture your lips “doesn’t that sound enticing, no?”

𖥔 god, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa medarda #arcane #arcane smut #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #headcanons #ambessa headcanons #dividers by fairytopea

418 notes · View notes

amorchai · 5 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 1,186 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x shy!reader

words: 1705

warnings/tags: best friends to lovers, mentions of food, shy!reader.

“stevie?” you ask into the empty air, tearing your eyes away from the view in steve’s passenger seat as you previously pondered silently. “mhm?” is all he mumbles back, to show he’s listening while scooping another spoonful of the chocolate ice cream from his tub.

you weren’t sure why you were having ice cream on a cold winter’s night, but steve had suggested it and you never tend to question steve’s random motives as such. your half-eaten raspberry tub rests on your lap, slightly melted from neglect during the reverie you coaxed yourself into. parked atop a hill overlooking the town below the moonlight.

you don’t continue at first, looking down to your knee which now bounces anxiously. and with the extra space of silence, steve looks up from his ice cream, eyes peeking beneath the strands of hair that poke his face.

sitting the tub into one cup holder, steve moves back against his seat, one hand beginning to drum the steering wheel aimlessly while he watches your body language. “you don’t like it? thought it was one of your favourites?” steve continues worriedly, and nods towards the dessert in your hands.

you shake your head, ushering it into the cup holder beside his with a very small, “no, no. i do… i’ll have it in a second.”

“okay.”

the car falls silent again, steve watches as you slump against your seat and lose yourself in the view again. however, steve can tell it isn’t the landscape you’re thinking of, but if only he could pinpoint exactly what you were thinking.

penny for your thoughts, steve thinks and hesitates upon saying. in the end leaving you be at first, instead reaching a hand over to your restless knee and it suddenly stops moving. steve squeezes it affectionately, a small message that he’s still listening as he turns down the radio ever so slightly.

“what was your first kiss like?” you splutter all of a sudden, voice quiet and a deep nervous inhale following. steve wasn’t expecting it, eyes blinking and eyebrows raising as he processes the question. he taps your knee once more before moving his hand back to his lap, and you immediately miss the warmth.

“eighth grade with vanessa johnson. i freaked out so bad i bit her lip and she never spoke to me again.”

with steve’s statement you giggle. of course he did just that. “you bit her?” you repeat, hand covering your mouth as more laughter falls from your lips, and steve joins you with an amused nod, “sure did.”

your hand falls from your mouth while you lean your head back to face the car roof, laughter slowly falling back down and steve can only watch you with the fondest smile. “do you bite every girl you kiss?”

“no. funnily enough it was an accident and she hated my guts for it,” steve responds to your teasing with another chuckle emitting his throat. your head tilts to the side, cheek pressed to your shoulder as you look over at him, his gaze intoxicating as he smiles so warmly towards you.

“i got much better, y’know?” steve smirks, ego boosting himself. “i know,” you reply without thinking and steve pulls a face, confusion and amusement packed into one before nudging your arm gently, “what do you mean you know?”

you laugh again, embarrassed and quietly when you reply, “high school girls locker room. steve harrington was the topic of conversation most days before gym class for the popular girls.” steve grimaces, unamused and worried about the fact that you had heard those conversations about steve’s kissing techniques.

“god, high school. don’t miss it a bit.”

you don’t reply. looking out the passenger door window and to the couple of cars upon that side, distractedly staring as you sigh sadly. and steve’s not an idiot. he’s your best friend and also someone who’s been infatuated with you for years, he can tell what you’re thinking this time.

“it’ll happen, you just need to find the right person.”

your first kiss. still in your twenties without having ever kissed someone, while others around you were now in serious relationships.

you close your eyes and sigh at steve’s words. that’s the problem; you have always had the right person but you’re too terrified to make the first move. the unbearable fear that steve wouldn’t like you back was excruciating while he dated several girls during your friendship that you hoped he would be brave enough to do something instead.

maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. since he had no problem asking all those other girls out, as far as you can tell.

“i have an idea.”

steve’s quiet and patient to match your timid voice, you can usually get more shy in conversations you’re scared of and he’s willing to hear you out. but when is he never. “yeah?” is all he asks, practically a whisper.

your words get lodged in your throat, how are you supposed to ask your best friend to kiss you? that’s not easy. what if he hates you after? what if he thinks you’re impatient? or what if it ruins your friendship?

you wave yourself off, cringing on yourself and about to change the subject completely while leaning a hand down for your tub of ice cream but steve grips your hand and bends his head down to meet your gaze.

“hey, hey, hey. you can tell me your idea. i won’t judge you.”

“i don’t know, steve, i—” steve turns, his body facing yours while he grips your other free hand and you follow his movements to face him more clearer. the car light was on while you previously ate and it illuminated the tanned skin upon his face, showing off the sweet dark freckles spotted across his cheek and neck.

“i know who i want to be my first kiss.”

your forehead falls into you and steve’s held hands, embarrassed while a small ‘o’ shape forms on steve’s mouth as he thinks. “oh,” is all steve says, a pang of hurt sprawling across his chest rapidly at the realisation of... someone. someone.

before you can lift your head to ramble an apology about how stupid it is, steve beats you to it by holding onto his pride and storing away his sadness. “any guy would be so lucky to have you, yeah? so lucky, baby. and if you know who you want to be your first kiss, i say go for it.”

steve’s ready to continue, busy trying to seem like he’s okay with this idea and not noticing that you lift your head back up to look at him properly. he doesn’t notice the way you squeeze his gripping hands or giggle at his rushed voice, he doesn’t notice anything until you say, “steve.”

it’s quiet. your voice barely audible but steve thanks his good hearing because he immediately cuts himself off to listen to you. your faces are close, his pupils rapidly moving when they scan over your features as if he’s figuring out what you’re trying to say.

“what, baby?”

“steve.” you say again, tone knowing and desperate and almost a hint of feeling shameful and steve’s eyes widen when yours fleet to his lips for the shortest second. this can’t be real, steve thinks. there’s no way.

you huff when he still sits still, hands keep holding yours tightly, “don’t make me say it,” you whine and steve chuckles. he tilts his head down, forehead pressed against yours as he replies, “oh, but i want you to say it. please say it.”

you can feel the warmth spread to your face as another shy whine threatens to break your throat, but just as you move your head in an attempt to tuck it into his neck, steve’s hands are shuffling from yours so he’s cupping your face.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s okay. i can do it, i’ll gladly do it. if you want me to?” his thumbs swipe your skin so delicately and his eyes are gazing with such a genuine stare that you feel you might crumble. with a nod, there’s a strangled sentence you let out, “y-yes. i do, stevie.”

he chuckles once more, a mixture of how cute he thinks you are but also in disbelief that he’s about to kiss you.

steve’s so slow, head tilting as he leans forward so his nose runs across your skin and you can feel the ghost of his lips closer and closer. in a warm daze, you whisper into the cold car when steve’s lips touch the corner of yours, “don’t bite me.”

you feel the curve of his smile while his nose drags down your face so he’s tucked under your jaw, both of your chests heaving with laughter. your hands reach up so they are holding onto his wrists, and he looks back up at your cupped face, “no promises, you’ll probably taste of raspberry ice cream.”

this time steve’s patience isn’t as strong, leaning forward to crash his lips against yours in what you believe will be most breath-taking kiss you could ever receive. corners of both your lips threaten to smile as you feel the sparks within your chest and squeeze the skin of his wrists.

he tastes of chocolate from his ice cream and the coffee he had earlier on and you go light-headed at the thought, never wanting to pull away. he’s so sweet and slow, lips guiding yours against his so tenderly that you pray to god it won’t be the last steve harrington kiss you receive.

you both reluctantly pull away, lungs begging to be filled with air but steve only pulls away for a moment before pecking your lips again. your mind feels foggy from the gesture that you almost don’t notice the nip to your bottom lip as steve pulls away.

you gasp mockingly, opening your eyes with steve’s smug smirk, turning his palms from your face so he can hold yours again, resting them against your lap. “i was right,” steve says, leaning forward when you dip your head to contain your happiness.

“you taste like raspberries,” steve murmurs just as happily against your lips.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⁑ steve harrington ᡣ𐭩 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fandom

281 notes · View notes

itadores · 4 months ago

Text

let's ride!

note: he's plaguing me

pairing: sylus x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

tags: gender neutral reader, reader is not mc, pre-relationship

"You have to be kidding me," you say, stopping right in your tracks. The sight laid out before has you going still.

Sylus raises a brow.

“Were you expecting something different?” he asks, looking back at you from where he stands a few steps ahead on the sidewalk. The glint in his crimson eyes betrays the fact he already knows your answer.

"When you offered me a ride, I assumed that you'd be picking me up in a car." You wave a hand, motioning to the vehicle that Sylus has parked on the side of the road. "Not a motorcycle."

"Don't tell me you're afraid?"

It's an obvious provocation. One that you shouldn't rise to.

"I'm not afraid," you scoff, the words falling from your tongue almost instinctively. You childishly cross your arms, well aware of how petulant you look. "I just wasn't expecting it. Do you even an extra helmet?"

"Catch."

You barely have any time to process what Sylus has said before you're fumbling to catch the motorcycle helmet that he's tossed at you. Once you're sure that it's secure in your grasp, you look up at Sylus and shoot him a glare. "A little more of a warning would have been nice. What if I had dropped it?"

He laughs. "A little scratch won't hurt it. Besides, I could just buy another one."

You roll your eyes as you take the few steps down the sidewalk necessary to be next to Sylus. "You and your infinite amount of money," you dryly comment before looking down at the helmet in your hands. Your nerves spike slightly. "I've, uh, I've actually never been on a motorcycle before."

"Oh?"

A flicker of surprise crosses Sylus' face but it doesn't linger long.

"Really?"

The smugness in Sylus' voice squashes any and all requests for assistance you may have had.

"Really," you grumble, pulling the helmet firmly down onto your head. The helmet is awfully snug, but not uncomfortable. It's actually surprising how well it fits you.

You nearly flinch when Sylus suddenly enters into your space.

“Tilt your head back.”

The retort of Why should I lies on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down (for once) and do what Sylus asks of you. You lean your head back, eyes falling onto the man in front of you. Sunlight casts shadows across the planes of his face, emphasizing the sharpness of his features and setting his ruby red eyes alight. The thought that he looks handsome crosses your mind fleetingly.

You go eeriely still when his fingers skirt across the underside of your chin, pulse quickening as the rough pads of his fingertips graze the delicate skin of your throat. Carefully, Sylus buckles your helmet’s chin strap with a gentleness that’s unexpected from the fearsome leader of Onychinus.

“Can’t have you getting hurt on your first ride now, can we?”

His eyes flicker up to meet your own, causing you to avert your gaze. Sometimes, it slips your mind how intense it can be to have Sylus' attention solely on you.

"I could have done that myself," you mumble, thumbing at the strap below your chin. You tug on the thick fabric, fingers fiddling with it.

"You could have," Sylus concedes. He rubs his thumb against his forefinger in that familiar manner of his before looking at you once more. "But I wanted to do it for you. Is that so wrong?" he coos, tone teasing and grin bordering on sharp.

"You're the worst,” you sigh, brushing off the warmth laced within Sylus’ words. You chalk it up to him being his usual flirtatious self. You motion towards the motorcycle. “Who gets on first?”

Before Sylus can get a word in, you narrow your eyes at him. “And I can get on by myself.”

“So feisty,” he murmurs, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. amusement clear as day on his face. “Like this you resemble an angry chipmunk.”

You pout at that, which probably doesn’t help your case. It's not like it's your fault that the motorcycle helmet rests snugly on your head, the padding within its interior squishing your cheeks.

Sylus laughs though refrains from making any further comments. “I’ll get on first so it’s easier for you to get on after,” he says as he smoothly slips his own helmet on.

You idly stand by on the sidewalk, watching how Sylus mounts his motorbike so you can mimic him when it’s your turn to do the same. His movements are fluid as he swings his leg over the body of it and lowers himself down onto the smooth leather material of its cushion.

“Your turn,” he says, beckoning you closer by patting the seat behind him.

Although you were closely observing Sylus' movements, by the time you cross the short distance to make it to his side, you're still unsure of how exactly to get onto the motorcycle. You can't exactly steady yourself by holding onto the handlebars like Sylus did.

"Put your hand on my shoulder."

"What?" you say, startled out of your thoughts.

"How else do you plan on getting on?"

Sylus cocks his head at you, raising a brow as you try to think of an alternative. You sigh when your brain fails to produce anything. Lightly, you place your hand onto his shoulder. His customary black leather jacket is smooth beneath your touch.

"Now swing your leg over."

You use Sylus as an anchor, palm pressing into the firm muscles of his shoulder as you clamor onto the motorcycle, not nearly as graceful as him but at least you've made it on. Once you're sure that you're not at risk of somehow toppling off, the first thing you take notice of is how close you are to Sylus. Your knees rest on either side of his waist, your chest nearly pressed against the expanse of his back. You've been near Sylus before, but never like this. You scooch backwards and try to put as much space as you can between the two of you.

Sylus glances back at you. "I don't bite. No need to put so much distance between us," he says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that," you deadpan, which draws a bark of laughter from him.

"Is that so?" Sylus' eyes darken a touch. You have no time to try and decipher what it means before he blinks and it's gone, replaced by amusement. "You might fall off if you don't hold on tight."

"I'll be fine like this," you say. You look down at the motorcycle and wrap your hands around the grab bars.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs his shoulders before turning forward once more. The motorcycle roars to life, steadily thrumming beneath you. Sylus nudges the kickstand up with his foot. You tighten your hold on the grab bars as the motorcycle shifts slightly as Sylus prepares to pull away from the curb.

A loud squeal escapes you as the motorcycle starts moving much faster than you anticipated. Your grip around the grab bars slackens in your shock, and you press yourself closer to Sylus, arms tightly wrapping around his torso, before you can reconsider your actions.

"You really are the worst, Sylus!" you shout over the wind that rushes around you as Sylus continues picking up speed. Your heart is hammering so loud in your chest after the stunt he pulled that you're sure he can feel it with the way your chest is pressed firmly against his back.

In response, Sylus accelerates more, eliciting a shriek from you. The buildings around you start to blur together, and the wind bites into any sliver of skin you have exposed. You're going so fast that you're confident that Sylus is breaking every speed limit there is in Linkon City. But you don't dwell on that thought for long.

Your initial nerves transform into giddiness as you slowly grow more comfortable with the sensation of riding on a motorcycle. There's something surprisingly exhilarating about going at such a high speed. You poke your head from around Sylus' body, a wild grin spread onto your cheeks. His eyes flicker from the road to you for a brief moment.

“Having fun?”

You lean in closer to him to be heard over the whipping winds. “Yeah!” you say earnestly, cheeks aching from smiling.

You don't have a smart remark or a quick-witted quip at the ready like you usually do. For as much as you bicker with Sylus, you do actually enjoy his company and you appreciate him going out of his way to give you a ride, even if it's not exactly what you had envisioned.

"Thanks again for the ride Sylus."

Out of the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of Sylus smiling. Not as sharp or as teasing as his usual ones. It's a little softer around the edges. Genuine.

"Anytime."

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #sylus x reader #sylus fluff #love and deepspace fluff #lads fluff #lnds fluff #new.mail #from.love and deepspace #love.sylus

228 notes · View notes

altxrrmelancholy · 10 months ago

Text

emotion verte - Jyh

>The title comprises French words meaning 'green emotion.'<

Your boyfriend gets jealous over something miniscule that causes an argument, and he thinks trying to make it up to you at a convenience store might earn your forgiveness.

｡⁠・Tags: bf!Yunho, jealousy, a bit of arguing, semi public shenanigans, a bit of smut, manhandling, previous crushes mentions.

｡⁠・Word count: I forgot to keep count sorry 😞. But I'm sure it's below 5k.

Note: I find it hard to specify tags, especially if it's to do with smut (if anyone has noticed). So if that is an issue, please tell me so I can specify. I'm not used to writing smut also so if it's unusual or awkward please bare with me I'm trying.

Also also I'm having difficulty writing/completing works. Zero motivation. So enjoy this in the meantime. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Minors? You know what to do. Here's the door (to leave)🚪

•••

"It doesn't matter if you thought there was nothing wrong. Men always have ulterior motives."

"What if he didn't? What if he was genuinely complementing me because he thought I looked good, ever think about that?"

Exasperated, Yunho stared blankly at you. "He thought you looked good? Y/n, come on I know you're smarter than that."

You knew that Yunho had a point. You were only wearing a sweater with tiny shorts and thigh-high socks. You didn't need to wear much as you were only going to the convenience store to get some snacks at 12 in the morning, so you just threw on a sweater and met Yunho outside your dorm building after receiving a call from him a couple of minutes before. Assuming he would protect you like he always did.

But you also knew that he had the tendency to overreact when it came to you. You're not totally bothered by his jealousy, you know that. In fact, it makes you feel validated, that someone so sweet and kind, so hot, could like you this much. To the point where he allows jealousy to take over him. To consume him sometimes that it ends with you face down on his bed, or even facing the wall, gripping onto his hand on your hip as he takes you from behind. You loved your boyfriend so much that you were willing to excuse his behavior after someone (a man) oh so casually touches your arm in the middle of a conversation. He would inform you of their behavior and then be extra doting that day. You loved that.

It was moments like these, though rare, that reminded you that you shouldn't be so dismissive of his behaviors. Moments where you would argue about his jealousy, like it was your fault that men are the way they are.

If you didn't leave the building you both were currently arguing in front of, someone was bound to complain sooner or later.

You gave your boyfriend a nasty look before you left towards the direction of the store. You were gonna get snacks without him and go back to your dorm. You heard doorsteps behind you and low-key sighed. You knew he wouldn't leave you to go alone.

"Y/n wait." You stopped. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that..." You heard him sigh. "I'm not the only one that wants you. That guy..." He pointed behind him. "That guy was looking at you, it made me uncomfortable. And then I imagined you were here alone and then... What if you were here alone, huh? With that outfit?"

You turned towards him. "But I'm not alone Yu. I'm here with you. Besides, would you have allowed me to go out this late at night alone?"

He looked down, pouting. "No..."

"And so? I wouldn't have come out alone out of my own will anyway. You have to stop blaming my outfits every time other people look at me."

As you were on your way a couple of minutes prior, you were walking ahead of Yunho on your phone when a man shorter than him passed by you. He must've thought you were alone because he looks you up and down before stopping at your right and going 'you look good.' Before you could even react, Yunho stepped up in front of you, glaring down at the man with an intensity that could rival actual heat. He didn't even need to say a word before the man stuttered and abruptly left. You were about to make a joke about Yunho scaring people off when he said something about what you wore. That none of that would have happened if you just dressed appropriately. His own words.

You knew Yunho loved your little outfits. So hearing this from him kinda hurt you.

You approached him and placed your hand on his cheek. "I feel safe with you, okay?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way, darling." He said almost immediately, looking down at you fondly.

You smiled and lightly tapped him cheek twice. "I'm glad."

You began walking ahead of him. Just as you were about to pull out your phone from your sweater pocket, you heard Yunho begin to speak.

"Wait. Why would you wear such an outfit when you know you were leaving the house at this time, in this cold."

You sighed and turned around.

"Yunho-"

"You don't even like wearing such when you're outside my room." He said, referring to your skimpy shorts. "Is it because you know San is over at the apartment?"

You gasped. Never have you ever heard Yunho be quite audacious in this fashion. Even with his jealous tantrums.

"I told you that in confidence. How dare you." You whispered, your eyes wavering as you fixed your gaze upon your boyfriend.

"Well who knows, Y/n."

"Fuck you, Yunho."

You hurriedly left for the store, this time not caring whether he followed you or not.

You liked to think that you were ready for anything Yunho said, because he would randomly say things and his friends would be okay with it. He would be so blunt and his friends would just shrug because 'that's how Yunho is'. The fortunate thing about him is that he wouldn't be so careless as to blurt out another person's secret to other parties. That didn't mean he wouldn't blurt out yours in front of you. You remembered the night you told him about how you used to have a crush on one of his friends years before he even met him. You had to heavily assure him that it was not only small, but over with. That was the night you knew of Yunho's jealousy.

Yunho sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had to remember that you were not one of his friends, but his girlfriend. He failed to realize what he had said after he heard you curse him and storm away from him. Yeah, he shouldn't have said that.

You barged into the store angrily, not even caring that you scared the poor worker at their station next to the door. You walked stealthily towards the snack section at the back of the store, next to the dairy products.

"How dare he." You muttered. "How could he say something like that so... casually! Ugh!" You threw your arms in the air and proceeded to glare at the gummy bears in front of you.

Poor snacks.

This would have gotten a laugh out of you if you weren't so angry.

You noticed Yunho's black sweatshirt at the corner of your eye. You almost rolled your eyes. The audacity.

"Y/n."

You ignored him.

"Y/n that was out of line. I'm sorry."

How many times will he apologize that night? You suddenly found the German on one of the snack packets interesting. You even tried to read it in your head. Huh. Enthält Zucker und andere-

"Y/n, please." He sounds desperate though. Should I forgive him?

You stilled. He never usually lets you be angry at him for long.

"That wasn't fair, Yunho." You muttered.

"I know, baby, I'll take you home if you want to. Just please forgive me. Please?"

Hmm.

You looked at another brand of gummys and tried to read the language on it. Is that Russian?

"Come on, Y/n." Your boyfriend whined his voice deep but soft, slightly stomping his feet. This grown man.

You felt him sigh and come up behind you. You shivered slightly as you felt his warm presence. "Y/n~" He brought his hands up to your waist while you pretended to read the damn packets. "Baby~ I'm sorry baby, please~" His words, now a whisper next to your ear. You shut your eyes and bathed in the all-consuming presence of Yunho. You didn't expect to feel a hand creep towards the front of your shorts.

You jumped slightly, still in his hold. "Yunho! What are you doing." He ignored your question and proceeded to shove his hand in your shorts and underwear, lightly drawing circles on your clit with his surprisingly warm fingers. You didn't even have time to get surprised that you were in public. You whined softly as you felt the other hand rise up your body to cup one of your boobs over your sweater. You sighed, your eyes closing as you leaned back on his chest. "Y-Yun- ah-" his fingers quickened slightly.

"You're gonna forgive me, right? Because you love the way I'm touching you. You love when I make you feel good like this, huh? Come on, don't stay silent. Let me know how good you feel." He whispers in your ear. At this point you hoped you were the only ones in the store and that there were no cameras.

He continues to prod at your clit, knowing all the ways to make you moan and jump in his hold. He knew how much you liked when he touched you even more than sex itself, though you had never told him that. He just knew. He knew most things about you.

"You're c-crazy..." You moaned quietly, the fingers on your clit not easing up even a little. You had each hand on both his arms, trying to get him off of you. But you weren't even sure you wanted to stop, considering you were already so close.

"I'm crazy because I love you Y/n. I'm crazy because it makes me feel good knowing I'm making you moan like this. You're close, right?"

You whined quietly. "I'm so close... Yunho p-please make me cum pleasepleaseplease..."

"Then open your eyes and look at how good I'm making you feel, baby."

You opened your eyes slightly and looked at the silhouette of his hand moving inside your shorts. He smirked and increased the pace of his fingers, making you fall apart with a moan. The hand that was on your chest rose to cover your mouth, allowing you to moan through your orgasm. "Ssh ssh that's it, baby." He whispered next to your ear as you closed your eyes, his fingers still rubbing you through your orgasm.

After a while, his hands were out and off you. He left you leaning on one of the shelves with your hands trying to catch your breath. Did he just make you cum... in a store?

"Do we even still need snacks?"

You looked toward your cocky boyfriend as he licked his fingers slowly as if teasing you, his steady eyes on you. You turned away from him, feeling your cheeks burn up. He chuckled lowly and grabbed an assortment of various snacks and casually walked towards the front to pay for them. You sighed and tried to pick yourself together before following him, your steps slower than his because... well...

You met him at the cashier on his phone as the girl scanned the items one by one. You notice her pale skin turn pink at the sight of you. You look up at Yunho, finding him already staring down at you trying to hold back a laugh. You choke back a scoff. Oh how you were never coming back to this store ever again. Forever and ever and ever and ever-

After the items were done, you scurried past Yunho past the doors already dreading every second in that store. You could hear Yunho shamelessly laugh as you left the building. Just because he gave you an orgasm didn't mean you forgot what he said earlier.

"I can take you to my apartment?" Yunho caught up to you, swinging the polythene back on one hand, the other in his sweatpant pocket. You nodded, looking at your feet as your steps fell in sync with his. He smiled to himself as he looked up towards the road.

"I bet San couldn't make you cum the way I just did though."

Now-

•••

More notes ig: the German says, 'contains sugar and other-'

Tell me what y'all think. And don't forget to reblog.

I'm also always open for conversation. *Casually walks away*

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #ateez yunho #yunho drabble #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #atz #yunho

431 notes · View notes