#i love you exactly as you are but i can’t tell you that because i know that you don’t feel the same

[pucksandpower]

Young Love and Old Money

Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring

You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.

“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”

Max grins. “I can handle it.”

The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.

Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.

This dinner needs to go perfectly.

Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.

“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”

You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”

Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”

You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”

Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”

Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”

Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.

The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.

“Delicious,” Max compliments.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”

You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.

But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”

Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”

“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”

You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.

The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.

Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”

Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.

You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.

You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”

“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”

“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.

“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.

You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.

“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.

Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.

You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”

Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”

You sink down in your chair, wincing.

Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”

A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”

Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.

“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”

“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”

Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”

You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”

But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”

Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”

Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”

Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”

“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”

Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”

Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”

Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.

Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”

“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.

You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.

Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”

Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”

You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.

As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.

He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”

***

The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”

You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”

The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”

Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”

You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”

“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.

In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.

“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”

Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”

“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.

You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.

“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.

The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”

You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”

You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”

“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”

You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.

You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.

This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.

Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.

You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”

Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.

It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.

“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”

You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.

Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”

You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.

“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”

He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”

You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”

Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”

He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.

Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”

Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”

Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.

Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.

***

The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.

You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.

“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.

“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.

You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.

“You’re the greatest, Max!”

“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”

“We love you so much!”

You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.

As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”

Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.

“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”

You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?

Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?

Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.

Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.

Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.

You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.

“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.

Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.

“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”

He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?

Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”

You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.

“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”

Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.

“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.

Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”

Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”

Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”

Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”

You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”

He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”

Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.

“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”

Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”

Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”

He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.

For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.

Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”

The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.

By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.

As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”

He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”

You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.

“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”

His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.

***

The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.

“You ready for this, liefje?”

You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”

This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.

You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.

Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.

About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”

Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”

The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”

You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.

“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”

Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”

You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.

The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”

You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”

You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”

The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”

You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...

You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.

“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.

You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”

Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.

Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.

You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.

Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.

Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.

"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”

The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.

After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”

Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Max.”

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (7)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad

a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

Azriel 

Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.

“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 

He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.

She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 

“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 

Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 

“Azriel?” 

The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 

“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 

“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 

“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”

“Like a lover?”

Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 

That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 

Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 

This was somehow worse.

“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 

“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 

“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 

You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 

“What?” he choked out. 

“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 

“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 

You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 

Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 

Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 

Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 

~~

The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 

Useless. 

A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 

There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 

And he had told you that he had one. 

That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 

Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 

You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 

“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 

Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 

“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 

You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 

He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 

“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 

You felt his breath at your arm. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 

“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.

“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”

“Very little. I’ve been here.” 

“For how long?” 

“You slept for a day and a half.” 

“And you stayed the entire time?” 

“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 

You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 

“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 

Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 

He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 

“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 

Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 

You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 

The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 

His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 

An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 

Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 

You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 

“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 

“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 

Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 

You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 

“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 

You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 

You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 

Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 

“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.

The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 

“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 

“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 

“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 

“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“You remember what I said?” 

“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"

The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 

“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 

“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 

“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 

You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 

The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 

You shouldn’t have asked. 

~~

“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 

“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 

“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 

Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 

“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 

“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 

You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 

“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 

Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?

Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 

Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 

But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 

Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 

“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 

Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 

“How much time?” Azriel strained. 

Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 

“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 

Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 

Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 

“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 

The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 

“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 

In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 

Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 

You removed your hand from his. 

Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 

“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 

“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 

“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 

“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 

And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 

A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 

If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 

But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Moi Devochki: Chapter 2

Warnings: very minor angst bit, smut(grinding, groping, vaginal penetration), a/b/o content (marking, claiming, knotting)

Word count: 3606

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist

 “Don’t you know how to knock?” the redhead questions, “Wait, why are you smiling like that?”

   “I went to talk to Wanda and Y/n like you wanted.” she says

   Nat furrows her brows, “And? Is the Alpha that's leaving scratches, bruises and hickeys on them a team member?”

   Yelena chuckles, “It’s not an Alpha.”

   “It’s a Beta?” Nat asks, surprised a Beta would be that expressive with their affections

   “Each other actually” her younger sister tells her

   Natashas eyes widened. It’s not that she didn’t approve of two Omegas being together, that wasn’t the case at all, as far as she was concerned people deserved to be with who they loved no matter their bearing. She just didn’t expect this, her jealousy for the non existent Alpha definitely clouded her spy senses in this instance because even though she, and she alone noticed the marks you both tried to cover due to her eyes constantly being on both of you, she couldn't figure out you were doing it to the other.

   She just couldn’t see it, far too busy watching any other Alpha that came near you both with an angry glare and a longing for her to be the one touching you both. She realized if she didn’t make a move she had no right to be protective or jealous, but the truth was that the Alpha has wanted you both almost as long as she's known you. But she didn’t want to make a move while Wanda was grieving, and how does one make a move on two Omegas anyway. Then she noticed the bruises and bites beginning to show. She thought she was too late, that she waited too long.

   “You're not messing with me? There's really not an Alpha?” the Alpha questions, afraid to get her hopes up that she still has a chance

   The other Alpha shakes her head, “I wouldn't joke around or lie to you about something that involves your heart sestra(sister).”

   Nat smiles then, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes and Yelena finds herself smiling as well. She hasn’t seen her sister smile like that since you and Wanda joined the team, and before that the last time was when they were pups on that mission in Ohio.

   “Then I have to tell them. I can’t waste anymore time, even if I’m not the Alpha they want, I need them to know my feelings.” she says 

   “Well uh, just hang on. Because I didn’t actually talk to them. I just caught them, and I kind of told them that I wouldn’t tell anyone about what I saw, so…”

   “And what exactly did you see?” Natasha asks, jealousy in her tone

  Yelena chuckles, “Relax, it’s not like I meant to. I just went to talk to them and well, as soon as Y/n opened the door the scent was… well, it was very apparent they had just finished mating.”

   Nat was torn between being concerned for the two of you getting caught by Steve, Bruce or Dr. Strange, and longing to know what your scents and noises were like when you were together. 

   The blonde clears her throat, gaining her sister's attention again, “My point is, how are you going to ask to be with them both if you aren’t supposed to know they're together?”

   Her brows furrow, “Does it matter if you told me when you know I want them? It’s not like I’m going to tell the others or punish them. I want to ask them to be mine.”

   Yelena thinks over her sisters words for a moment, “True, but I don’t want to seem like a liar. I don’t want them to lose trust in me.”

   “I’m sure if I explained the situation they wouldn't be upset about anything.” Nat says, hopeful that her sister will just agree so she can go find the two of you

   The younger of the two sighs, “Khorosho, prodolzhay (Fine, go on).”

   The redhead practically jumps off her bed, making her way to her bedroom door. She quickly turns to look at her sister, “Wait, do I look ok?”

   Yelena groans, “Oh for the love of- they've seen you covered in sweat, dirt, mud, blood, and alien blood and you're worried about how you look?” She blushes slightly but nods her head, Yelena rubs her forehead and looks at her sister. The Alpha is wearing some jeans, a long sleeve olive green shirt and has her long hair done in a braid. “You look perfectly fine Natasha.”

   She smiles again before finally opening her door and heading down the hallway towards Wandas room. It takes everything in her not to run there. Once she arrives she takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. 

   Wanda groans as the two of you cuddle in her nest, “Now what.” she grumbles

   You chuckle while sitting up, bringing her with you, “Better see who it is Wan.” 

  She reluctantly gets up and opens the door, “Oh, hi Natasha.” She tries to not appear nervous at the appearance of the sister of the Alpha that was here mere minutes ago, but the way she spins her rings gives her away.

  “Hey Wanda. Mind if I come in to talk?” she asks, eyes not leaving the Omegas.

   Wanda tries to think of a way to politely decline, afterall you're still in her nest and the room definitely still has hints of her scent from earlier. The Alpha can see the hesitation on her face and decides to help ease her.

   “It’s ok, I know who’s in there and what happened.” she tells the Omega

   Wanda, torn between being embarrassed, happy, and worried that the attractive Alpha in front of her knew this about the two of you, blushes and has to clear her throat before replying, “S-sure, come on in.”

   You look up to see Wanda open the door for- oh god its Natasha. You quickly fumble to get out of the other Omegas nest, “Relax Y/n, you can stay there if you want.” the redhead says and for a split second you forget how to breathe. Though you aren't sure if that was due to being worried or excited that she seemed to know about you and Wanda.

   Wanda, seeing the slight panic on your face, rejoins you in the nest. She holds your hand before addressing the Alpha, “Did Yelena send you to talk with us?” she asks, slightly saddened that the blonde told another Alpha despite promising not to

   “No, she didn’t send me here but she did tell me because I actually sent her here earlier.” she admits.  You both look at her in confusion as she takes a seat on Wandas desk chair.

   “Really, why?” you ask

   The Alpha suddenly looks nervous, “Over the last few months I’ve noticed that the two of you have had a lot of bruises, scratches and such. It made me think an Alpha was trying to make you both theirs. I didn’t like that idea, it made me jealous because I only noticed these things due to my inability to take my eyes off either of you. I’m always thinking about you both. What it would be like to hold your hands, to cuddle with you, to scent you, to wake up next to you both in the mornings, to be able to call you mine.” she admits

    You give Wanda a smile and she nods her head before looking back at Nat, “Don’t wait any longer then, make us yours Tasha.”

    Her eyes sparkle as she smiles at the nickname. She stands and makes her way over to Wandas nest. She gently grabs you both by your chins, lifting your faces to look at hers. She stares at both of you lovingly for a few seconds before her lips crash into Wandas. The kiss starts out soft but quickly gets heated and you're left there to watch, anticipation building to feel the Alphas lips on yours. 

   Eventually they break apart and Natashas lips meet yours, you quickly let her dominate the kiss by opening your mouth to her and she gladly deepens the kiss. 

When she pulls back you can see how dilated her eyes are, and you notice the bulge in her pants. Wanda sees it too and both of you are practically begging for the Alpha. She can see the want in both sets of eyes that look at her, it makes her heart race.

   “Please Alpha, we want you.” you finally cave, begging verbally now. 

   You and the other Omega eagerly begin to undress each other for Natasha, you toss each others shirts across the room in your excitement. The scent of your arousal mixes with Wandas in the air and the Alpha can barely contain herself, but she does. Slowly she settles between you both in the nest, Wanda straddles her lap and a smirk graces your features. Nat looks at you to make sure you're ok with this and you nod, eager to see them together as you help the Alpha learn all of Wandas sensitive spots.

   Natashas hands caress Wandas sides as she makes her way to unclasp the Omegas bra. Wanda lets it fall from her chest, Nat gently touches her breasts and when she notices the nipples harden her touch becomes firmer and she gently squeezes. Wanda moans and grinds down on the Alpha who grunts upon feeling the Omegas ass rub against her clothed hard cock.

   You lean into the Alpha, your hands slipping under her shirt. Your nails rake across her abbs, her head falls back as she lets out a moan of her own. You and Wanda take advantage of this position and begin to kiss and gently suck on Nats neck. Her breathing quickens and you know she's desperate to have you both. 

   Your gaze moves to Wanda, “Pants off for our Alpha, printsessa(princess).”

   Wanda quickly stands to obey, and the Alpha can feel a warmth in her chest from you calling her ‘our Alpha’. She watches Wanda strip the rest of the way and can feel her cock throb in her pants. Wanda slowly crawls back into the nest and Natashas eyes look over to you. You smile as your hands reach for her jeans, she sighs as you undo them. She lifts her hips and you easily slide her pants and underwear off of her.

   You can feel your slick pool between your legs as you take in the sight of the Alphas large cock. You watch as Wanda clenches her thighs together, likely feeling the same as you and Nat smirks as she sees both of your reactions. Wanda gently tugs on the Alphas shirt and she gets the hint, she quickly removes it. You and Wanda each reach a hand behind her back unclasping her bra.

   She sits there a moment letting the two of you take in her body before the waiting becomes too much for her, “Come here dorogoy(sweetheart)” she says, gesturing for Wanda.

   The Omega listens and straddles the Alphas lap once more, she hovers just above Nats cock. It takes a lot of the Alphas focus to not just thrust up into her, instead she takes two of her fingers and slips them through Wandas slick soaked lips. Wanda whimpers at the feeling and she watches as the Alpha sucks her fingers clean. 

   “You're ready for me, aren’t you dorogoy(sweetheart)?” she asks

   Wanda nods her head, “Yes Tasha”

   Natasha grabs the Omegas hips and gently lowers her until she feels herself slip inside. They both moan and Nat finds she can’t hold back anymore. Her arms encircle Wanda and she effortlessly flips them over. Now on top she thrusts herself  in and out of Wanda at a faster pace. The Omega moans in pleasure and reaches a hand out for you.

   You let her pull you closer, the Alpha watches as your lips pepper kisses and suck marks into Wandas collarbone. Upon seeing how much the Omega likes that spot Nat joins you. Wanda gasps and pants at the attention she's getting from you both, she whimpers and moans as Natashas cock pounds into her. She knows she won’t last much longer. You pull back, letting them have their moment.

    She cups the Alphas face, “Knot me, claim me, please.”

    Nat groans at hearing this and quickly kisses her tenderly, she quickens her thrusting and as Wandas walls begin to squeeze her she can feel her knot grow. It slams against the Omega a few times before she's able to slip inside. They both moan as the Alpha locks into place, Wanda can feel herself being filled with Natashas cum and she trembles as her orgasm washes over her. 

   The Alpha bites into one of Wandas scent gland and cleans her mark before pulling away, “Mine” she says

   Wanda could cry she's so happy, instead she pulls Nat closer, sinking her teeth into her one scent gland, “My Alpha, my mate” she says before cleaning the mark.

   While they're joined for the next few minutes your one hand caresses the Omegas cheek as the other runs up and down the Alphas back. Wanda purrs at the affection and Natasha hums as she enjoys having you both so close. 

   After her knot deflates Nat is slow to pull out of Wanda, not wanting any of her seed to spill. Wanda whines at the emptiness she now feels, the Alpha kisses her tenderly to offer comfort.

   Your whine quickly brings her attention to you however. You sit there with your thighs clenched drenched in your own slick, you enjoyed watching them be together but you desperately want the Alpha to take you and claim you too. Wanda smiles as she watches the way Nat looks at you, it's the same way she looks at you.

   Natasha crawls off of Wanda and over to you. She brings a hand up to your face and runs her thumb across your cheek. You lean into her touch, craving more. Her hands move to your bra clasp and she quickly rids you of it, then she tugs at the waistband of your pants.

   “Take these off for me medovyy(honey)” she tells you. You purr at the nickname.

   You gladly obey, you practically jump from the nest to finish undressing. You can feel Two pairs of eyes on you as you do so and you smile. You quickly rejoin them in the nest. The Alphas hands caress your sides as she guides you to lay down. She gently spreads your legs apart and slots herself between them. She practically moans at the amount of slick you've produced. 

   “Look how wet you are medovyy(honey). You liked watching me fuck Wanda, didnt you?” she asks with a smirk on her face.

   You nod, “Yes Tasha.” you reply, the nickname Wanda used earlier slipping from your lips.

   She smiles, lining herself up with your pussy. She slowly pushes into you and you moan at feeling her stretch you. She grabs your hips and begins thrusting in and out of you. Wandas hands cup your breasts and you can’t stop the whimpers and gasps that leave you as Nat continues her thrusts. You can feel a heat rush to your core as they both give you attention.

   As Wanda begins to kiss and suck at your neck your legs wrap around the Alpha, bringing her closer and deeper into you. She grunts in response, she loves how well you both take her. She leans down and plants a heated kiss to your lips, you moan into it as her thrusts become faster.

    Wanda knows you're close. She pulls away from you, giving you and Natasha your moment just as you had done with her. Your walls start to start to squeeze the Alpha and she moans at the feeling, her knot grows and you can feel it gently push at your entrance.

   Her eyes meet yours, silently asking if she can knot you as well, “Please Alpha, I want your knot.” you answer

   She smiles as her knot slips into you and locks into place. Your legs tremble as you both cum together, her seed practically pours into you and you moan at how full you feel of your Alpha. 

   She nuzzles your neck before biting into one of your scent glands, she quickly cleans her mark, “Mine.” she says

   You smile before sinking your teeth into her other scent gland, you clean it before pulling away, “My Alpha.”

   You stay together for a few minutes just as she and Wanda had, and just like you had the Omega caresses your cheek and Nats back. Eventually the Alpha slowly pulls out from you as well and lays back into the nest.

   She looks at you and Wanda, “Come her moi devochki(my girls), come cuddle with your Alpha.”

   You each snuggle into her sides, you and Wanda hold each others hands and Natasha runs a hand through Wandas hair, her other running through your hair. You both purr at her affection. 

   Suddenly the Alpha can feel tears from both her Omegas hitting her skin. She panics briefly, worried that somethings wrong or that she's done something wrong.

  “My Omegas, what's wrong?” she asks as she gently guides your faces to look at hers

   Wanda shakes her head, “Nothings wrong Alpha, we’re just really happy.”

   “We’ve wondered what it would be like to have an Alpha for a while now, but until we met you we never wanted a specific Alpha.” you add

   “We were worried you wouldn't accept us loving each other or that you'd only want one of us if you even wanted either of us at all.” Wanda adds

   Natasha looks at you both, her hands cup your and Wandas cheeks, “Moi devochki(my girls), I have wanted you both since I first laid eyes on you. I knew I wouldn’t be happy without having you both by my side, I knew you were the Omegas meant for me. You have no idea how happy it makes me now to be able to call you mine.” she admits a few tears of her own escaping

   Wanda leans in and kisses your Alpha who eagerly returns the kiss, they break apart and rest their foreheads together. 

   “I love you Tasha.” the Omega says 

   Nats smile is huge, “I love you too Wanda” 

   They pull apart from each other and you take Wandas place on Nats lips.

   Your smile matches your Alphas, “I love you Tasha”

   “I love you too Y/n.” she says as she pulls you and Wanda back into her sides. “And I know you two love each other too, so I want you to be able to bond. Don’t worry about anyone's reactions to it ok? I promise I’ll make sure no one lays a hand on either of you, and I’ll be damned if anyone could take either of you away from me. I’ll keep you both safe.”

   Wanda looks at you excitedly as you look up at your Alpha, “You really mean that? You’d let us mark each other?”

   “Of course I would, we’re all each others mates afterall.” she answers

   Wanda suges forward capturing you lips with her own, Nat chuckles as she watches you struggle to keep up with the intensity of the kiss.

   “I want you now printsessa(princess), please.” you beg as she pulls away from you.

   She nods eagerly, “I want you too detka(baby), can’t wait to make you mine.”

   You lay back for her, Natasha watches as she crawls over to you. One hand teases a nipple as her other makes its way through your folds, you’ve already produced enough slick that she easily slips two fingers inside you. You moan and grind your hips into her hand.

   “Please printsessa(princess), I need more” you say

   She complies by slipping a third finger into you, she pumps them in and out of you at a faster pace. Nat brings her hand to Your neck, her thumb brushes against the scent gland she marked and you can barely contain yourself. Your walls tighten around her fingers and she knows you’re close, she brings her thumb to circle your clit and your orgasm quickly washes over you.

   she leans down and bites into your unmarked scent gland, the pure happiness you both feel as she marks you is indescribable. She's waited so long and was never sure she’d be able to do it. She pulls away after cleaning her mark and smiles at you, “You're my Omega Y/n, just like you always said I would be.”

   You smile before bringing her closer, you bite into her unmarked scent gland. You clean it before letting her go, “And you're my Omega.”

   The two of you rest your foreheads together as you both shed more tears of happiness, Your Alpha quietly and fondly watches you both enjoy this moment and she's so happy she was able to let you both have this. You both deserved to be able to bond with the other. The love you shared was so pure and wholesome, it should've been illegal to keep the two of you apart.

   The two of you pull apart and find yourselves being scooped into your Alphas hold, she pulls you close to her before she lays back, relaxing once more. You and Wanda settle into her sides again as you both purr. The Alpha enjoys hearing you both, she soaks up the sound as the three of you drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @mommyluvu @404-almostdone @tarathia @ayoungexwife

[sunnitheapollokid]

🎙️🌸┊ ༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄, 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 ‘𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑!

↳ hoo boys x popstar princess headcanons <3

characters in this thread : percy jackson, leo valdez, jason grace, frank zhang. ೃ࿔₊•

☀️ sunni’s notes : THIS IDEA HAS BEEN ENGRAVED IN MY MIND FOR FOREVA! and i finally get to write about it because my writer’s block is slowly goin’ away 🫶 (barely) i haven’t checked my notifs because i’m tryna do a semi-break right now!! but i wanted to post something for y’all >0< ANYWAYYY obvi it’s sabrina inspired because i love her i’m a true carpenter amen amen. GO STREAM ESPRESSO. happy reading bebis!! sunkisses, — sunni!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ your biggest supporter!!!

୨୧ has all your merch. the cap? yeah, he’s got it. the shirt. got it. the stickers? jacket? don’t even need to ask him, he’s got it.

୨୧ obviously adores your singing voice, he makes you sing every chance he gets.

୨୧ percy knows how to play the guitar, both electric and acoustic so he usually makes appearances during your shows.

୨୧ YOUR FANBASE LOVES HIM?? like sometimes it seems like they love him more than you do.

୨୧ so many edits, like CRAZY amount of ship edits.

୨୧ he likes to take a peek on what your outfits look like, but you tell him it has to be a surprise!!

୨୧ if you succeed in hiding your fits, his jaw is dropped at the first sight of you on stage.

୨୧ knows all of your songs, plays them in the car, even when you tell him not to.

୨୧ “WHAT’S THIS?? ESPRESSO?? BY WHAT?? WHO’S THIS SINGER?”

୨୧ “oh shut it.”

୨୧ his favorite color’s blue, so sometimes you wear blue accessories on stage.

୨୧ almost signifying that you’re bringing a part of him on stage.

୨୧ you wear blue bows, bracelets, maybe a few rings.

୨୧ percy absolutely melts when you do, because he knows exactly that you’re thinking of him.

୨୧ you even have a seperate blue mic just for him.

୨୧ during tours, he gets busy with college so he can’t really come to every show, but he tries to watch it live even during lessons.

୨୧ “mr. jackson, if you don’t tuck your phone away i’ll make it a point to fail you.”

୨୧ “just mad you don’t have a popstar as a girlfriend.”

୨୧ “what was that?” — “nothing!”

୨୧ and he picks you up from the airport whenever you come back, every. single. time.

୨୧ co-wrote some songs with you, but likes to have you take the credit since you’re the singer anyway.

୨୧ songs include : “miss america & the heartbreak prince.” — “snooze.” — “somebody to you.” — “the only exception.” — “style.”

𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐳 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ calls you ‘princesa’ and ‘mi párajo cantor’ A LOTTT.

୨୧ and it still makes you flush everytime.

୨୧ leo valdez is the type to how do you say this??

୨୧ totally forget that you’re the ‘princess popstar’ sometimes.

୨୧ there was one time you two were on a date,

୨୧ leo watching you eat then he just goes,

୨୧ “.. YOU’RE A POPSTAR!!”

୨୧ and he shakes your shoulders like the world’s gonna end.

୨୧ “leo! leo! amor! quiet down!”

୨୧ always making sure he goes to ALL YOUR SHOWS.

୨୧ if your guitar / or any instrument ever breaks, he’s already there fixing it for you before you could tell him.

୨୧ likes to plan out your outfits, and almost all the time, THEY EAAAT!!

୨୧ “miss popstar princess!! who styled you today??”

୨୧ “oh! my boyfriend!”

୨୧ too, loves your singing voice. or your voice in general, he’s so whipped when he hears you say his name.

୨୧ WHEN HIS NAME IS IN YOUR SONGS??

୨୧ he’s gonna marry you.

୨୧ he has a t-shirt and in black bold letters it just says, “I LOVE MY POPSTAR GF.”

୨୧ the crowd loves seeing leo in the crowd hanging with your fans.

୨୧ he’s not much of a singer, but he’ll dance his heart out amongst your fans.

୨୧ flying kisses, so many flying kisses.

୨୧ he also likes doing your hair, and again, THEY EAAAT!!

୨୧ makes you think of how much of an amazing girl dad he would be.

୨୧ “guys do you see how cute my hair is?! leo did it!!”

୨୧ you give them a lil twirl, and the crowd goes wild.

୨୧ immedietly peppers you with kisses after a show backstage.

୨୧ he makes all your jewelry for you, since he’s good with metal anyhoo.

୨୧ you have a polaroid of you and him stuck to the back of your guitar.

୨୧ he has a polaroid of you on stage on his drum set.

୨୧ oh yeah, did i mention he’s drummer?

୨୧ some songs of yours don’t usually have drums in them, but when they do, you know who to call!!

୨୧ this man is defo sleep deprived.

୨୧ “mami? can you sing me to sleep?”

୨୧ he falls asleep to your voice in a snap, his arms wrapped around your waist like a glove.

୨୧ songs include : “that boy is mine.” — “this love.” — “espresso.” — “ready or not.” — “lover.” — “our song.”

𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ jason loves the idea of you being a popstar!! but makes sure to let you know that even if you weren’t, he’d love you regardless.

୨୧ the man doesn’t dance, but he can sing pretty well.

୨୧ you’ll catch a glimpse of him humming and swaying to your songs in the crowd.

୨୧ OMG OMG. jason loves matching with you!!

୨୧ it’s sort of his way of saying ‘i love you and i’m here to support you all the way.’

୨୧ JSVAHGSBA

୨୧ sorry brain buffered there.

୨୧ his favorite outfits of you two were these blue and light purple coordinated oufits.

୨୧ the fans loved it. it was all over.

୨୧ you guys went trending a ton.

୨୧ #(name)andjason or your guys’ ship name on twitter went viral almost more than twenty times in the span of like— three months.

୨୧ jason doesn’t really care about the fame though.

୨୧ he still likes to go on those corny and normal fun dates with his girl.

୨୧ if the paparazzi comes to harass you, he genuinely but gently threatens them to leave you alone.

୨୧ can i just say,

୨୧ A GOD AT PHOTOGRAPHY.

୨୧ he knows all the good angles and poses.

୨୧ he’s your literal pocket camera.

୨୧ why hire a professional photographer when you had a boyfriend who can do it for you???

୨୧ “on your right baby— yeah, then turn there, that looks good.”

୨୧ “here jace? is my hair flat in the back?”

୨୧ “it’s never flat, you look great honey.”

୨୧ i just brain buffered again.

୨୧ OH OH!! jason plays the bass!! i think it would fit!

୨୧ he doesn’t like going on stage though, he’s super shy. and he has a hint of stage-fright on him.

୨୧ he’ll play some songs for you in private though! and you could hear some bass from him in a few of your songs.

୨୧ songs include : “daylight.” — “soulmate.” — “invisible string.” — “slut!” — “beautiful boy.” — “tattoed heart.”

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐳𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEARTTT.

୨୧ he’s your breath of fresh air when the fame gets too overwhelming.

୨୧ “hard day sweetie?”

୨୧ he gives you the best hugs when you come back from a shooting, a show, whichever.

୨୧ makes sure to stocks up all your snacks backstage for you.

୨୧ he got you a locket for your anniversary, and you wear it on stage.

୨୧ he smiles to himself everytime he catches a glimpse of it around your neck.

୨୧ what’s inside the locket you may ask??

୨୧ literally just him.

୨୧ and amen to that!

୨୧ just like jason, he likes to reassure you that even without the popstar thing— he loves you. body and soul.

୨୧ spoils you!! 100%!!

୨୧ he knows exactly what you want, your eye is caught by something while shopping, he’s hopping his ass inside that store to get it for you.

୨୧ makes the calls for you when you really can’t take it to go do popstar duties.

୨୧ and he makes sure your day off is the best ever, with snuggles and cocoa kisses.

୨୧ but during shows, he’s actually super chill!!

୨୧ except the part where he sings his heart out to every song, because he defo knows ALL YOUR SONGS.

୨୧ the fans are shocked sometimes, but they love him.

୨୧ he’s so friendly to your fans too!! during meet and greets he makes appearances, and he gives them the biggest hug ever.

୨୧ he also thanks them for supporting you, and it makes your heart melt.

୨୧ when you’re on stage, he makes the half of those finger hearts for you to complete— and of course you complete it!!

୨୧ songs include : “pov.” — “you are in love.” — “urs.” — “bewitched.” — “every summertime.” — “like the movies.”

[lilmashae]

hii!! i was thinking about some kinda angsty (?) smut where like, reader and whoever else (i thought about heeseung tbh) are fucking yk, reader is riding him but she’s too tired and just can’t let herself nor heeseung cum. hee would normally tease her and make her work for release but today he can sense that she’s not doing that well so he comforts her and switches positions to fuck her real good 🤗

(if you’re not comfortable with writing this it’s totally okay!! love you and your work :>)

im more than okay with this… i love it 👩🏽‍💻

you couldn’t stop thinking about it — it didn’t matter if it was five minutes ago or five hours ago: what those girls had said really hurt you. ‘what does he see in her…?’ their words really stuck...

it’s not like you were listening on purpose — maybe they couldn’t tell it was you from the back but the three of them were sitting directly behind you. it's not their faults. you told yourself — if they knew you were there they'd probably stop and maybe they'd apologize... you were only waiting for heeseung to get out of class — being alone made you feel even more self concious... you tried to calm yourself down as maybe they weren't talking about you...

i’ll be there soon babe :)

the text message put you at ease, until you heard what they had to say next. your anxiety shot through the roof hearing another one of the girls open their mouths. ‘no really! i’m glad you said something… heeseung just looks way too good compared to her.’ they could be talking about someone else right — maybe a classmate? you could hear their snickering and mocking laughter. 'maybe she's really smart — helping him pass his classes you know?' there's no way they weren't talking about you. your suspicions were only confirmed hearing another venomous accusation — this time with your name included. 'y/n must have insane luck..! because there's no way he'd actually love someone who looks as... well... like her.' everything felt wrong — your clothes were suddenly uncomfortable and it felt like everyone was watching you — they'd heard them too right? the girls weren't exactly quiet... god this was embarrassing.

'hey baby! sorry i'm late.' heeseung's voice broke your thoughts. the string of weary expressions in your head had burst and melted into nothing upon his arrival. you looked up as your gaze met your boyfriends. he had noticed your nervous features — the way that you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and picked at your cuticles. 'you alright?' you weren't sure if heeseung had heard them but you really hoped not. you'd hate to embarrass him alongside yourself.

choking down the lump in your throat, you forced a smile... 'yeah hee...' you awkwardly smiled with glossed over eyes. 'i'm sure.' he still looked concerned — the grip on his bag seemingly tighter than before. 'here sit!' trying to reassure him you smiled even wider and thankfully it worked.

heeseung moved your bag sitting beside you as you two ate lunch together.

admittedly, throughout the rest of the day you felt a little down... what if those girls were right — was heeseung too good for you? did he actually like you? was he using you..? no heeseung wouldn't do that — you felt so stupid — you felt even stupider later that night as you two sat in his dorm room watching a movie. sure, you said you were fine... but heeseung still thought you were a bit off — you loved this film: usually you'd be giggling and engaging with the screen however tonight you laid unusually still with your head buried in the crook of his neck.

'baby...' worriedly, he rubbed your back, watching as you stared up at him with foggy eyes. 'are you sure you're feeling alright?' fuck... his hand moved to your forehead to check for any symptoms of physical distress. 'yeah baby. i promise.' heeseung's hand cupped your cheek as he lead you into a comforting kiss — a peck which you deepened — trying to distract him, before he could spout out any more questions. as always his lips were soft — they tasted like his chapstick as your tongue grazed the plushy flesh of his mouth.

heeseung returned your sudden embrace, leaning into your mouth as you begin to sit up straddling his lap. you lips collided and melted together as you two continued to make out — mouths exploring the vacancy of one another's.

your boyfriend's hands kneaded at your sides under your shirt as his fingers hooked under your bra unclasping it. the hardened buds of your nipples were now clearly visible through the thin cotton of your shirt... as heeseung hiked your shirt up over your boobs, you gasped as the cold air kissed your warm skin. you mirrored his actions, pulling his shirt over his head — however, the words kept repeating themselves in your head. even now, graced by your beautiful boyfriend's naked body... you were lost in the discomfort of insecurity and guilt.

you knew it'd be better to tell him. heeseung would know exactly what to say to comfort you. but now... now, you didn't want to think. you wanted to forget, and you had a few ideas how to do that. heeseung quickly rid himself of his pants and you of your own.

the friction of the fabrics separating both your sexes dawned over you as a wave of pleasure. it pinched your clit as you could feel the precum leaking through his boxers. 'heeseung...' you whimpered into his mouth as his hands firmly grasped your hips. he knows what you're doing — something is clearly wrong. 'come on, pretty girl, tell me what's the matter...' no matter how hard you tried you couldn't hide from him and you hated it. you broke down into tears. out of the blue, his sweetly flavored chapstick had a slight hint of saltiness as tears poured down your cheeks. 'don't hide from me, baby.' his hands held your own. 'fuck, hee... do you love me? you don't think i'm shitty — or that you're too good for me?'

'what?' his expression dropped. 'no... no, no, no, pretty girl. who said that hm? i love you... love you so much.' heeseung leaned in kissing away your tears as he firmly held you on his lap. 'let me take care of you, baby... please? 'don't ride me tonight — 'want to show you how much i love you.' he whispered. you nodded as the muscle of his biceps engulfed you, before gently lying your body beneath his own. heeseung's arms caged you in as his breathe fanned across your face. 'do you love me?' he asked. 'of course! how could i not... you're —' he interrupted your explanation diving into your lips.

he gently trailed sot kisses down the expanse of your body. 'going to fuck you so good sweetheart...' he kissed you again — and once more — again... 'treat you like a princess...' heeseung aligned his length with your sopping entrance his eyebrows knitted together in a furrow. 'so tight... perfect girl with perfect pussy for me...' your arms flew around his neck feeling his throbbing cockhead slip between your gummy walls. 'shit...' you mumbled into his shoulder as he continued to fuck himself deeper inside of your cunt. 'i'm all in, baby... 'feel good?' he slowly began to move, pumping his cock in and out of your heat. 'ah! heeseung...'

'shhh... it's okay... you're so pretty —prettiest girl alive... my pretty girl... should i mark you up?' he thrust. 'that way everyone knows your mine... let everyone know how much i fucking, love you.' with every snap and roll of his hips, you could feel the veins adorning his shaft prod at your gspot. his tip softly kissed your cervix as he began to pick up his pace.

he had you folded in half — thighs bent into your chest as you moaned and heavily called out his name. 'there you go... say my name again, princess. 'want everyone to hear it — 'want the guys and any bitch giving you shit to be talking about it tomorrow... how well i fuck you and how good you take it.' heeseung's praises went straight to your cunt — slick lathered around the base of his cock and your orgasm neared.

'think i'm going to cum...' you whined. 'yeah? good. go ahead pretty baby... cum all on my cock — want to see it yeah? feel how you clench around me and take everything hee gives you...'

i never know how to end these >< anyways, i hope you like ittt, hopefully i didn't get too angsty ^^

[lowgothree]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 

but it wasn’t enough anymore. 

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”

she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

[lynzishell]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵

✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖

Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕

-what common/uncommon fear do they have?

💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.

-do they have any pet peeves?

🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.

-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.

-what do they notice first in a person?

🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.

-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.

-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  

-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.

-what animal represents them best?

💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.

-what is a smell that they dislike?

💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.

-have they broken any bones? if so, how?

🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.

-how would a stranger likely describe them?

🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  

-are they a night owl or a morning bird?

🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.

-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.

-do they have any hobbies?

🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.

-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.

-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.

-do they have neat or messy handwriting?

💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.

-what are two emotions they feel the most?

🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.

-do they have a favorite fabric?

💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

-what kind of accent do they have?

🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.

And I love them too!! 🥹

Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻

[ollie-lolly]

Hiya, Ollie! Hope you're doing good whenever ya read this. And if you're not, I have a fluffy request for you:

For the Brothers and dateables, where would they take someone for their first date, what would they do, and how would the day/night end?

Sending you hugs and cuddles, friend! Have a great day/night! ♡

Authors note: Hi I know you’ve requested this in September and I haven’t been writing in FOREVER, but I’m so happy I am finally feeling up for it again! Enjoy!! I’ll just start with the brothers first, if people still think I write decently after all these months I’ll write the letter rest! Also 700+ followers WOW I love y’all.

Lucifer💙

He likes his everything dates very organised. He plans everything out to a tea, he knows he will win you over, but it takes time if he wants you to love him exactly in the way he already fell for you. I think he would take you to a museum, then to a restaurant he somehow knew you wanted to try the food from. Making a reservation to guarantee the best table. He will subtly compliment you throughout the whole day. As a subtle way to tell you he is having a great time. At the end he will walk you to your room and bid you goodnight. His lips touching your knuckles as he kissed your hand. He is the eldest brother, but that doesn’t hold him back from thinking about you all night after the date ended. 

Mammon💛

He will NEVER admit he was nervous even asking you out, but you knew. He likes to be flexible on his dates. Really going with the flow while subtly showing off how much he likes you. I’m mostly thinking of him taking you out to go shopping together, while he secretly takes pictures for the things you find ‘to expensive’ so he could buy you them later when he will make sure his debt declines. Then if you’re that kinda person going dancing together! Either way I think you two will both end up a little tipsy at the end, Mammon accidentally giving you a kiss on the cheek as he drops you off. Remembering when he finally fully sobered up in the dead of night. He would text you about it the next morning, preying you didn’t mind and maybe would want him to give one on the lips next time.

Leviathan🧡

I’d like to think he asked to hangout in his room and if you ask if it is a date, he would throw his phone the moment he replied with: “If you’d be okay with it!”. Safe to say he is scared shitless at just the thought. He preys Asmo will help him with the fact he is sweating buckets. It will most likely be a date in his room, watching a movie or playing a video game with him you expressed interest in. He can’t even enjoy the movie or video game most of the time, because he is constantly worrying if you’re enjoying yourself or not. I think he could finally calm down the moment he would see you smile while eating the take-out you and him ordered. If you ever suggest feeding him some of your food he will be flustered and nod. Avoiding eye contact as you feed him. When the date ends he tries not to be sad you’re leaving already.

Satan💚

He finds your comfort the most important thing at all times. He is extremely considerate, who said chivalry is dead? Because then he would be dead. He is still a little nervous, but that’s because you’re so attractive to him. The date will most likely be to a book store where the two of you would pick a book for each other to read. I think then he would take you to a cat cafe. Him paying all of it with a smile. Just don’t give the cats all your attention, because he wil get a little jealous. I think he would ask to hold your hand on the later part of the date, giving you his jacket as you two walk beside a river on the way home.

Asmodeus🩷

He is over the moon. He will must look his best because he wants you to be entranced by him every second that he is with you. From the outfit, the perfume, the make up and the hair. Everything is top notch. When he sees you, in his mind you couldn’t look better. It doesn’t matter if you choose something more simple to wear and he definitely lets you know how he feels. Our sweet Asmo is most likely taking you to shop together then a self care spa at the end. He is quite touchy the whole time if you don’t mind that of course. Holding onto your arm, complimenting you, he might as well yell to the whole world he is madly in love with you. He might take you to his room by the end if you’re comfortable with it.

Beelzebub❤️

He wil be smiling throughout it all. When you would meet up at the spot he would have his usual blank face, the moment he would see you his sweet smile would appear. His bouquet of sunflowers in his slightly happy and nervous shaking hands as he gave it to you. I think you and him would do a workout class or go to a sports game together. He really pays attention to the things you like and talk about as you two talk in between breaks. Taking you to eat your favourite foods at the end and sharing desserts.

Belphegor💜

This sneaky little cow is most likely showing you the stars constellations in the planetarium on your first date. Little picknick blanket laid out as he would explain all your questions about the stars. Having lavender and chamomile tea and biscuits beside the two of you. The conversation eventually deepening to the thoughts in your heads to the memories the both of you have collected over the years. Belphie eventually placing his beloved cow pillow under your heads as the sleepiness slowly overpowers any nerves you might have had. Holding your hand as the two of you drift to sleep under the starry night above.

[quin-ns]

The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.

At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

[coryosbaby]

i saw that you wrote for donnie darko a while ago and since i’m currently fixating on him i present a very intriguing concept: stepbro!donnie.

i feel like he’d love the taboo aspects of it and would have no trouble justifying it to himself bc it’s not like you’re related.

18+, MDNI !! stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), suggestive content , kissing

No cs he literally would. In the movie he’s all about “I don’t want to fuck my family, that’s weird.” But with you, he doesn’t even view you as family— not really, anyway. Sure, your parents are together but at the end of the day there’s no blood relation, right? It’s not normal to daydream about tit fucking your sister, either, so— yeah. Definitely doesn’t view you as a relative.

He’s a total horn dog. I can imagine him making a move on you for the first time when you’re both watching a movie— some dumbass sex scene comes on and suddenly his dick is springing up and he’s subtly placing a pillow across his lap. He watches your concentration on the screen, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“Why do they always decide to fuck in these movies?” You question. You say this because you’re both watching some random slasher with an unnecessary amount of girl on boy sex scenes. “There’s like, a killer on the loose. How stupid can you be?”

He shrugs. His hand moves to the bulge in his pants.

“Spur of the moment, I guess,” he replies. “Can’t really control it once it starts.”

“And what would you know about the art of intimacy?”

It’s a joke, an innocent little jab that usually has Donnie firing back with something like, “you’re one to talk,” and then making a joke about your empty dating history— but he doesn’t do that this time. No, you’re too pretty. He’s too horny. He needs to break the ice before he lands hard on his ass and doesn’t get back up.

“Wanna find out?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes a bit wide and freaked out when you hear the (incredibly impulsive) words spill from your stepbrother’s lips. But also— and only Donnie would notice this, seeing you all the time and all, and not because he thinks about you every waking moment— you seem to be intrigued. Your eyes scan over his body and move back up to his face.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” You tease, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You wish. I’d never fuck your virgin ass.”

“How’dya know if you’ve never tried it?” And he gives you that shit eating grin when he’s really amused, the one that makes your stomach do flips. “You could kiss me instead, then. See if you like it.”

“I’m not kissing my brother.”

“Stepbrother,” he corrects. His legs spread apart, almost like an invite. You pretend not to notice. “C’mon, kid. don’t be a pussy.”

He calls you kid even though you’re only one month younger than him. He does this because he knows it irks you. You roll your eyes, licking your plump bottom lip.

“Whatever,” you mumble, then you groan. “Come here, then. But if you slip me tongue, Darko, I swear to god I’ll tell your English professor that you cheated on your exams last year.”

He begins scooting closer, his jean clad thigh pressing against your bare one, and he seems very giddy.

“Won’t give you tongue,” he replies. “I swear it on my life.”

You give an annoyed hum. Donnie’s arm goes behind you on the back of couch, and you can smell his cologne and the dial soap he uses in the shower. When neither of you makes a move— an awkward stare into each other’s eyes, faces a few inches apart, Donnie’s eyes filling with something you can’t quite make out— you utter, “Well, are you going to do it or not?”

Instead of replying, he just.. goes for it. He presses his mouth to yours in a smooth peck. But fuck, he’s so hard, and he’s wanted this for so long. He goes back in for another, mouth opened slightly, awkward. Virginal. The two of you kiss like this because that’s exactly what the both of you are— virgins. When you pull away from him, his lashes flutter open and he grins again. You want to kiss him some more— maybe his tongue in your mouth wouldn’t be so bad. But you hold back, eyes blinking.

“This is really fuckin’ weird, Donnie.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[mammonsrockstargf]

Hello! I’ve seen a few posts from your blog and I really like your writing style! If possible may I request the obey me brothers with two different MC’s? They met during summer camp and couldn’t stand the other kids so they just stuck to themselves until it was over now 10 years later they’re reunited…in anime hell. Thank you :D!!!

hii, lovely, thank youuu

sorry this took so long, school has been killinggg me lately <3

Okay, so the way I imagine this would go…

MC is Lilith’s descendant, right? But with how bloodlines work etc. etc. and Lilith has been dead for a while, so wouldn’t there be a lot of descendants?

You meet at summer camp. Maybe either of you never really felt like you fit in, there was always something odd about you. When you meet, it’s an instant connection. As though something bigger is tying you together. When summer camp is over, you each go on your own way. Unfortunately, you live so far away from each other, that you’re unable to keep contact.

Fast forward to Lucifer having to find a human exchange student. Maybe the wind blows to papers towards him and he finds himself unable to choose? I like the idea that Lillith looked at her brothers and was like “These boys need serious help, one human is not enough”.

Or maybe when one of you is teleported to the Devildom, the bond the two of you created at summer camp activates and causes you both to be teleported?

Regardless, you’re both here now. Standing on front of a very perplexed Lucifer, Satan who’s practically dying of laughter and Asmo who’s over the moon. (“Two playthings? How marvelous!”)

Lucifer's immediate reaction is one of you gotta go. There’s no way in hell that he’s putting up with two humans. The only reason he begrudgingly lets you both stay is because Diavolo lets out a hearty laugh and says “Well, I suppose it’s fate! You’ll both be staying.”

He can’t exactly say no to that know can he? So he makes some arrangements and gets another bed set up in the guest room. Having you in the same room makes it easier for him to keep control, so you’ll have to put up with that.

I also think he’d assign Mammon to one of you like in the OG and then Beel to the other. (“There’s no way the moron can take care of two humans on his own.”)

Once Mr. GreedyMcGreedyface is over the initial annoyance, he’s happy. Mammon, as per usual, is under the belief “the more the merrier”. He's very protective of his two lil humans and will buy you matching clothes and shit. He thinks it so funny, seeing you accidentally wear the same shirt on the same day.

Leviathan is flustered. Two humans are just too much for him. Don’t blame the guy. You'd probably have to get to know him one-on-one because there's no way he can handle being in proximity of the two of you alone for a while. (He eventually gets used to it, though and finds all sorts of multiplayer games you can play.)

Satan thinks it’s funny as fuck. Generally, he thinks anything that doesn’t go Lucifer's way is funny as fuck. Besides from that, I don't think he'd be all that different. He's too wrapped up in his rebellious phase to care.

Asmodeus as stated earlier thinks this is very exciting. I have the feeling he’d observe from afar at first, trying to feel out the vibes of everyone. He’d probably also try to set you two up. “You met at summer camp? What a meet-cute!” He'd also try to convince y'all to have a threesome. Zero chill on this guy.

Beelzebub doesn’t really care. He'd find it hard to tell you apart, to be honest. Which one is which? Do not ask Beel, he does not know. Once he gets to know you, though, I think he'd be the most observant of your differences. He'd know which one of you prefers spicy food, which one has a sweet tooth, your favourite colours, and your favourite kind of movies. He'd be so attentive to detail.

One of you has a tiny scar above your right eyebrow, and the other gets a small dimple on the left cheek whenever you smile. It's not something that he'll often vocalize, but sometimes he'll surprise you by mentioning it out of nowhere and you'll be like "What the fuck, Beel, how do you remember that?" and he'll just shrug and send you a sheepish smile.

Belphegor is fucking furious. What do you mean there’s not one but two humans in my house? No thanks. He would probably torment your dreams or something. He'll be able to tell you apart instantly, but instead of going the Beel route, he'll go out of his way to act like he can't tell you apart. "Oh, all humans are the same," yeah, suck it, loser-boy, you know exactly who's who, you just won't admit it.

Generally, I think being two MCs would be significantly better for one's overall mental health? Like you're stuck in "anime hell" (hihi) with a bunch of demons, two angels and a weird wizard guy who hardly even remembers what it's like being a human. You're definitely making it out in bigger pieces than the rest of us are.

a/n: thank you for reading! find my other stuff here. <3

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Seven Several Sentences Sunday

I was tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove and I'm about to work a ten-hour shift so before that hits, have a snippet!

“It’s not about money,” Eddie mutters. Buck turns to him, folding himself like origami on his chair. “Okay, what’s really going on here?” “Going on?” “Don’t play me for a fool, Imbolc. I know when something’s up with you. Why do you want to avoid the mountain pass?” Buck pauses, lets the silence linger. “You can talk to me. It’s okay.” He remembers when they’d stopped by his parents’ house in El Paso, and things had been tense. Not enough that it was a stilted dinner, but enough that Hen and Buck had picked up on it. Buck had cornered him at the bathroom afterwards, and Eddie’d told him the truth: it was the first time he’d seen them since they’d tried to take his son. “Listen to me,” Buck had whispered, his voice completely devoid of the softness that usually infused it. “They will never take Chris from you. Ever.” I know, Eddie had thought. They can’t, now, because I gave him to you. Buck’s never said that he wished Eddie had told him sooner. But he still thinks it was unfair, in retrospect, to let Buck wade into that without knowing the truth. If he could go back in time, he’d tell Buck before. He’d let himself bask in Buck’s righteous, protective fury. And because this isn’t real life—because this is D&D—he can do that. He can be selfish.

You are all SO lucky I love you and shared a Buddie fic and not my rarepair that's rotating around in my head like a rotisserie chicken.

When Bobby said that D&D could be a bit of wish fulfillment this isn't exactly what he meant...

Tagging @princessfbi and anyone else, again, no idea who's got something going on.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

The notebook

a/n;; PURE FLUFF WITH FEYSAND

Warnings;; None :)

The pencil moved on her notebook as if magic had possessed it.

But it was her hand who was moving it. Down, up, a line here, another line here, until she was creating a new portrait. 

She had come late last night from work and when she entered the living room she saw Feyre and Rhys sleeping on the couch, waiting for her. She had advised them of it, but still, they had tried to wait for her. And the thought of that melted her heart, because no one had ever cared for her the way they did. 

And she kept the image of her mates sleeping in her mind. 

She traced the hair of Feyre falling like a waterfall on Rhys chest, and the light of the fire created a faith glow on their faces as if they were angels.  

“What are you doing?” 

She jumped a little from her seat and the notebook and the pencil fell to the ground. Turning around to the door she saw Rhys leaned on the door frame. His shirt was tight, showing off her muscles and the pants were low on his hip. 

“You, are going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing that”

“What? Being handsome?” He smirked.

Rolling her eyes she grabbed the notebook from the floor. “I hate you,” she muttered under her breath. 

Sensing Rhys, she hugged the notebook tightly to her chest, they didn’t know that, just like Feyre, she liked to draw but she never showed them, she wanted to keep it a secret… Did she?

Rhys leaned on the couch and neared his face to her neck, her lips leaving short kisses in it, but she moved apart.

“Stop that”

“What? Now I can’t kiss my mate?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing”

Rhys smiled and tried to move near her but she sprinted to the door, down the hall and to their bedroom. 

Closing the door, she leaned on it trying to catch her breath, a stupid smile on her face. Opening the notebook again, she looked at the drawing. During her immortal life she had always been told that she couldn’t draw, that she hadn’t been born to create, so she always hid her drawings, but for some reason, she knew that Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t mock her.

Later that night, she and her mates were enjoying a peaceful night on the couch when she stood up from her place and left the room. Feyre looked at Rhys. 

Where did she go?

Rhys was going to answer when she entered the room again, her notebook in her hands. Seating again between them, she bit her lower lip. 

“I wanted to show you something”

They neared her and watched as she opened the notebook and Feyre gasped. 

“Darling… Did you draw this?” She nodded. 

Rhys turned the page delicately, watching every drawing she had been doing for the past years. Drawings of their family, of Rhys training with Cass and Az, Feyre with her sisters, of Velaris… Everything and everyone she loved was on that notebook. 

“Darling… This is amazing. Why did you hide this?”

She swallowed. “I was afraid. I was always told that I wasn't born to draw or do anything related to art” She felt tears in her eyes and one fell to the ground. 

Rhys put the notebook on the table and hugged her mate by the waist, moving her to his lap. She leaned on him and Feyre cleaned the tears from her cheeks.

“You are amazing, you know that?” Feyre said “Everything you do is amazing, don't let anyone tell you otherwise”

She started crying a little bit harder. 

“No, please don't cry” 

“Then don’t make me cry”

They laughed softly. 

Rhys took her chin so she was watching him. “We love you, darling”

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

🏷️;; @loneliestluvr @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @callmeblaire @shadowdaddies @clairebear08

[bigfatbimbo]

vees' collective dom but the one who just wants to live a peaceful life or something else that leads them to bonk (sometimes physically) vees off doing their villainous things. no, vox, you're NOT dealing with that deer tonight, we've agreed to watch a movie. no, val, you don't overwork your staff, it's fucking noisy. vel, don't you dare ever talk to other overlords like that again, it's risky

tbh, I had an image in my head about such reader complaining about vees' manipulations while some (another) punishment. like that vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful, so why not he put that stupid head of his to better use on your chest and nothing more. vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is. and val? wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit, so why he won't keep all of his hands to himself and try to be more romantic, sitting behind you, tied so well so he's only able to talk and he better do that

- 🦊

Basically a reader almost (definitely) manipulating the Vees into being less evil. ALSO NOT PROOFREAD!!!

So i’ve had very similar thoughts to this for a while and i’m going to tell you exactly why this would work. Quick lore drop about me but I used to be such a lowkey shady businessman (not explaining anymore than this, i’m healed) and let me just say, people like them are actually very easy to manipulate.

AKA greedy, power hungry, egotistical maniacs. What they do is terrible, thats no denying that, but they think very highly of themselves and their skills. So ‘stop abusing your employees’ not from a moral standpoint, but from a competence standpoint. That sells.

Like the whole “vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful” thing would absolutely work. It’s a hit against his ego and self competence, and because of the fragility in his facade, it would absolutely cause insecurity.

And reinforcing it with very rough, degrading, dumbifaction style sex would absolutely still have him thinking the next day. He’s sucking your tits or dick or something and you’re making comments like “Aw, look. A job you’re almost good at. Too bad that little head of yours can’t even think of anything useful to society.” Make him cry, you definitely can when it’s a knock at his intelligence and power.

“vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is.” Oh boy, I know this would get to her. Velvette thinks she’s hot shit, no, she knows she is. So now you’re overstimulating her and making fun of her because really? You had to use, even better, actually put time in to create a whole ass love potion, because not enough people wanted to fuck you?

She’d whine and tell you that’s not why, but come on. I mean, why be that hell bent on something so futile, we both know she’s not selfless enough to just give that away to virgin creeps all over pride. Oh Velvette, who’s came countless times and who’s pussy aches and has makeup running down her face, now has to her your call out on her confidence, and how it’s only boosted by her useless, forceful grab for others attention.

And Val, there’s so much ground to cover. “wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit.” Personal callout to his craft, which is clearly just as self indulgent as it is tiring. Your actors look so battered, Val. That’s not a good look, and isn’t that the point? Sex won’t sell if the people aren’t sexy, and that stars cracked lip is positively hideous.

There’s no intimacy, and you doubt someone as talentless as him can even achieve romance. So now he’s tied up on the bed, barely able to move as you sit across from him, not just bored, but reading a book or scrolling on your phone. He’s practically crying out cliche, used lines to romance you, and failing miserably when the whine creeps in.

So basically, the angle with Vox is his fragile power, Velvettes her unimpressive beauty, and Valentino is the implication of him not having a grasp on sex. Oh also fucking them to drill it in their head. Because what, people? Something that impacts the control over their work-life and sex-life will stick. Sex and power go hand and hand when the greedy are lustful.

Now are the results?

Well, Vox would make a show of making more useful products, and still use hypnosis, obviously he’s a shitbag, but there’d be a new level of self-hatred that comes with it, meaning it’d happen less.

Well, Velvettes is a little harder to just… take back as the product is already out there. However, the product promotion goes down ever so slightly because yes, money and power is great, but you’ve done something no one can do. Embarrassed our confident queen.

Valentino actually thinks before hitting an employee to hard, and actually lets actors have conversations because apparently people should have… chemistry? He doesn’t know, he just doesn’t want his porn to be boring or not sexy. His other issue (assault, i’m talking about assault) is not resolved he just leaves less marks.

You’ve successfully watered down a problem for a long-term (but not permanent) period of time. This could be even longer if also plant the idea of falling from power in their head.

Simply “What were you before an overlord? A sinner. What are your employees? Sinners. If you treat these employees to harshly, what will they do? Rebel. To successfully keep and manipulate your power you need your workers to feel more than obligation, but loyalty to you. Not your company or their job. You. Otherwise, keep in mind how other overlords have fallen.”

If you ever try this from a morality standpoint, it won’t work. The angle is power, people, because they will never stop being abusive for the right reasons. However, your domineering behavior in bed has earned you an amount of respect.

I fear I sounded evil in this um… never have this mindset for people who aren’t corrupt evil rapists. Also, I don’t think I talked about the smut aspect enough sorry, I just love character analysis. OH ALSO I haven’t been a sinister salesman since I was 16, everybody, calm down. Everyone has an angle though!

[dragonnarrative-writes]

GhostGaz Week - sweet talk // missed connection

I'm so so so excited to have participated in @ghostgazweek this year! It's the first time I've done an event like this and it's brought me so much joy. To everyone who has read and commented on my work this week, thank you! I'm so excited to play with some of these concepts some more.

CW: Relationships between coworkers, mutual pining, front of house/back of house relations, Phillip Graves (derogatory), kissing, a taste of dirty talk

“Takin’ my ten,” Kyle tells his manager, pulling his phone from his pocket. Price nods, waving him off and assigning Kyle’s tables to Alex and Nova. He swings into the kitchen with an absent wave as he checks his messages and steps out back.

“’M no’ sayin’ ye have’ t’ declare yer love in front o’ the whole bloody team.”

Kyle perks up at the sound of Soap’s voice, but back-of-house gossip is going to have to wait while he tries to figure out what his off-again situationship is complaining about now. Or not - the meltdown in his messages is not worth dealing with. Just as he’s about the round the corner though, the growl of Simon’s voice freezes him.

“That’ll do, Soap.”

Kyle has to bite his lip to keep from gasping. Simon isn’t the head chef - that’s Farah - but he might as well be her right hand. He’s the glue of the weekend dinner rush. Level headed no matter what, rarely raises his voice above a raspy muttering, huge hands that Kyle has seen split an apple in half without a hint of visible effort. Whoever he dates is going to be envied by the entire front of house. Partially because he’s bloody gorgeous. But partly because he’s just the perfect man.

“Nae, yer gonna listen t’me,” Soap insists. “I promise, ‘e’s interested.”

“’E’s not,” Simon says. “Already tried flirtin’ wit’ ‘im. No dice.”

“Leavin’ a note wit’ yer phone number - in a pile of other notes with phone numbers - is no’ flirtin,” Soap says, and Kyle can imagine the despair on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Do you ken ‘ow many o’ those damn notes ‘e gets in a night?”

“Exactly. And he’s got a bird.”

“They broke up last week,” Soap hisses. “She’s shacking up with her ex.”

Kyle would snicker at how close he sounds to pulling his hair out but…

Kyle’s situationship ended last week. Because she moved in with her ex and Kyle doesn’t want to go through that roller coaster, again. And Kyle’s the flirt on shift, so he gets the most notes and phone numbers on receipts…

“’E’s got better prospects,” Simon says. Kyle hears the flick of a lighter. “Gorgeous, competent, charismatic? Kyle could have anyone.”

“And ‘e wants you, ye daft fucker,” Soap groans. “Steamin’ Jesus the two of ye. Just fuckin’ tell ‘im.”

“Tell you what,” Simon grumbles, muffled by his cigarette. “If he comes out here before my break’s done, I’ll tell ‘im.”

“Then ah’ll go in an- Oh you mother fucker! 30 seconds?”

Simon sounds amused when he says, “Tick tock.”

Kyle probably couldn’t ask for a better dramatic entrance, so he rounds the corner with a, “What’d I miss?”

Soap yelps and clutches at his chest like an old woman. Leaning against the wall, Simon looks about as surprised as he ever does, which means there’s a hunted look around his eyes, but he mostly looks tired and resigned. He settles into his thousand yard stare and takes a long drag.

“Gaz-bear!” Soap exclaims. He circles behind Kyle and shoves him forward. “Simon has something to tell you that is of a very personal nature. Do not let him distract you with talk about the kitchen! I love both of ye and ah’m tellin’ Price to fire both of ye if ye don’t talk!”

And then he’s slamming back into the kitchen, leaving Simon and Kyle alone in the alley.

He could play coy, but Kyle’s a bit giddy. “You like me, Simon?”

Simon grunts, contemplates his cigarette as he says, “Wondered ‘ow much of that you ‘eard. But don’t worry, I’ll keep professional.”

“God no.” Kyle can’t imagine anything wants less. “Tell me when you wrote me that note.”

“Dunno," Simon shrugs. "6 weeks after that shit with Graves?”

Two years ago, before Price took over, Phillip Graves had been the manager. He’d been a nightmare, harassing hostesses and firing anyone who dared to point out he was bad at his job. After the tenth straight day of a front of house person running into the kitchen to cry, pursued by Graves himself, Simon had had enough.

“I c’n make this a much more hostile working environment if tha’s what we’re aimin’ for.” The big beautiful bastard had shoved his knife a good quarter inch through a cutting board. The reverberation of the blade had rung through the painfully silent kitchen. All of the back of house looked to Farah for direction. She'd looked at Simon. Kyle, Nova, Alex, and the girl they’d been consoling by the fridges had all held their breath.

“I could fire you,” Phil spat.

“You won’t. You fuck with this kitchen, you’re losing your job,” Simon had answered. The fact that he had looked and sounded bored had scared and aroused Kyle in equal measure. “So ‘ere’s what’s going to happen - Keller and Garick are supervisors now. Pay them like it. You got a problem with front o’ house, you talk to them. Another girl comes runnin’ in here, then I‘m coming out there an’ you and I are ‘avin’ words.”

Graves had sputtered, looked around at everyone gathered, then spun on his heel and left.

Three months later, he’d gone missing. Two weeks after that, Price had arrived, greeting Farah and Simon like old friends and preparing to make the restaurant the best Kyle had ever worked at.

What did it say about Kyle that rumors that Simon had gotten rid of Graves for good only made him more attractive?

“That was more than a year ago,” Kyle says, sidling his way under Simon’s arm and leaning into him. Kyle’s not a short man, but Simon is tall and broad and warm under his work tee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Simon takes another drag, and looks down at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not exactly dating material. And you had a bird.”

“I would have dumped her in a heartbeat,” Kyle admits, startled when Simon barks a surprised laugh. “I would have! Fuck, I could have been sneaking out here with you for seven months? I’ll break up with her again right now.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Simon laughs, smashing his cigarette into the wall and dropping the butt into flower pot turned butt bin. He doesn’t move his arm from around Kyle’s shoulders.

“We’re dating now,” Kyle declares. “We’re boyfriends.”

“Movin’ kinda fast,” Simon points out.

“I’ve been in love with you for more than a year. Catch up,” Kyle dismisses. “My lease is up in four months, and I’m movin’ in with you. Now kiss me.”

Simon doesn’t hesitate. His lips are just the slightest bit rough. He smells like cigarettes and spices, and he turns to bracket Kyle against the wall. One large hand finds it’s way to the small of Kyle’s back to pull him in and press their hips together.

“Fuck,” Simon growls when Kyle moans against his mouth. “Pretty, pushy thing. Gonna be this demanding all the time, Gorgeous?”

“I have a lot of time to make up for,” Kyle groans, nibbling kisses along his jaw. “You should let me blow you.”

“Oh, should I?” Simon’s rumbling laugh sends shivers down his spine. “Should let Farah and Price catch you choking on my cock?”

Well, if Kyle was half-hard before, he’s rock hard now. “God, yeah, let me.”

“Not yet,” Simon growls, and that yet sends sparks flying through Kyle’s veins. His next kisses are just this side of too rough, tongue and teeth making Kyle’s lips so sensitive. Finally, he pulls himself away to pant into Kyle’s ear, “Let me take you on a date, huh, Gorgeous? Let me take you out, wine and dine you. Wanna know all about you, wanna talk about something other than work for more than five minutes. Then I’ll take you home and lay you out. Kiss you all over, suck that gorgeous cock of yours, yeah?"

“Jesus,” Kyle hisses. He tries to rock his hips into Simon’s, but strong hands hold him back. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Kiss me again.”

Simon laughs, dips down to give Kyle another closed-mouthed kiss. “Gotta head back in.”

“No,” Kyle pants. “Kiss me again.”

Simon growls into the next kiss and shifts to press his whole front into Kyle. When he pulls back, he presses a thumb against Kyle’s lips. “Be patient, Gorgeous. Gotta get through work tonight.”

He knows he’s pushing it, but, “…kiss me again.”

Simon’s lips are achingly gentle for a moment and then they’re gone as he takes a step back. “’M goin’ inside, now.”

“Thai food after work?” Kyle pants.

Simon chuckles and adjusts himself. “Yeah.” He swoops in for another brief peck. “It’s a date.”