#like if you wouldn’t want someone to say something about your hobby; don’t say it about theirs. simple

[andcars]

# 𝗙𝟭-𝗕𝗙 ─── GETTING CAUGHT STREET-RACING MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

IT'S NOT LIKE YOU to back down from your boyfriend's talents. you go ahead and start street-racing—you never promised to be good at it. but it is just embarassing for your boyfriend to find you in a police station. ───── MV33 LH44 DR3 GR63

TAGS . . . # gender neutral reader, street-racing, light angst, light couple arguments, all happy and sweet ending TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine LENGTH . . . # 1.4k words (around 300w each driver)

MAX VERSTAPPEN should be mad, he really should be, but somehow he isn't. He gets the call in the middle of the night and is half-awake as he listens to an officer rattle on how you got arrested—he listened to an officer rattle in italian in the early morning. whatever it is that he just said went one ear and to another.

"i'm sorry?" he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and hear how the officer changed to English. okay, you got arrested for street racing in italy. in fucking italy. he's being asked to go in person to bail you out. in italy. at 3am. okay. fuck.

as much as he doesn’t want someone to wake up to drive the jet, he isn’t so much keen on driving either. max pays the pilot early and double the moment he sees him, feeling really bad.

he should be totally pissed, he should be. but you’re leaning against the bars pouting as you see him. he doesn’t want to be upset at you, but he feels like he should be.

he sighs and pays your bail. you’re still pouting when you see him, not saying a single word. “will you at least tell me you’re sorry?” he asks, trying to get something out of you. it doesn’t work. “schatje (sweetheart), i had to wake up our pilot for this. at least say sorry to him.”

poor guy. when you get let out, the first thing you do is apologize to monsieur garnier. he’s very kind about it. though, max was right, he did have to wake up early. you're not about to be much of a burden to a man like him.

max doesn't stay mad at you either. it's like he's incapable of it off-track. when both of you are dead tired on the bed, he just pets you asleep. “if you want to race, don’t get caught,” he said, only half awake. “and maybe don’t do it too much like me.”

LEWIS HAMILTON is embarrassed to have gotten the news from social media. it was no more than an hour ago when he checked twitter (he would never call it x) to your arrest. headlines: ‘LEWIS HAMILTON’S LOVER ARRESTED FOR STREET RACING’. the media didn’t even bother to mention your own name.

you bail yourself on your own and come home to an upset lewis. it’s the race weekend, he should be focusing on the race. instead, he can’t stop thinking about your race. one that, of course, you never told him about.

“how long has this been going on?” he asks first.

you shrug, collapsing on the hotel couch. “a few months now.”

“months—“ he gasps into his hands, running them over his head. “and i only found out now?”

you shrug and turn away from him. “it’s my life,” you argue, “and it’s not like i’m the only one with a dirty history in racing.”

you’re bringing up spygate, he knows that. he calms himself before he could say anything hurtful towards you. “i do it in a safe environment—“

“people die during races, lewis”

“—and i play it safe!” lewis has to walk away from this building argument. “baby, i love you, but i don’t think you can compare formula one racing to street-racing. i need you to promise you won’t do this again.”

sure, street-racing is a fun hobby. and you’re still right about formula one racing being just as dangerous. but there’s some things you have to work on in a relationship. finding a middle ground. you sigh, turning to him, “i’ll only race if you can come then.”

he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.

DANIEL RICCIARDO wouldn’t say he’s a bad influence. however, it’s not like he’s innocent when it comes to this new hobby of yours either. yeah, he never told you to go ahead and start racing like a madman like he was with max on a redbull. but the message was still the same.

the message, of course, simply being: ‘i always wanted to try street-racing. i bet you’d look good doing it.’

it’s on your third race that you got arrested. you phone him yourself and he arrives in the police station with a worried face. he’s not upset, he’s fucking relieved you’re alive.

he asks the officer what happened and is hit in the gut with the fact that you went street-racing. you don’t even look at him to see the disappointed look on his face. it’s embarrassing. you did this just to look cool in your boyfriend’s eyes and it failed. you thought you had more time to improve.

you’re bailed and you and him walk out. “so…” he trails, voice surprisingly calm, “why’d you get arrested?”

weird question. “street-racing?”

he laughs and you finally look at him. he’s just got this stupid smile on his face as he looks at you. “no, i know you got arrested for street-racing, baby. i just wanna know what did you do to get caught?”

a grunt left you as you remember how it went. “one of those fuckers i race with fucking drove me to the side of the road. almost crashed into the river, but i didn’t. the cops manage to arrest only me.”

“aw,” he places an arm around your shoulder and pats your head. “you think they’ll be scared if an f1 driver were to race with them? i gotta make sure you’re protected somehow.”

there’s really just so many things daniel can surprise you with. you don’t know how he managed to surprise you with this too. “you do know we’re like couple of steps away from a police station, right?”

he shrugs. “it’s unfair if only you can be the one to brag that your lover races.”

“i don’t think you can actually brag to anyone that i illegally race, daniel.” he laughs and already is planning how to keep you safe while you enjoy your dangerous little hobby.

GEORGE RUSSEL got the news from a fan. a fan. he can't name a more embarassing moment than someone asking him if he approves of his partner's street-racing. you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to the race because you were with your family. you were not, in fact, with your family.

he arrives at the police station and you're walking back and forth in a cell with some of your buddies. he's red faced as he talks to the police officers and pays for your bail. his heart churns a little when he hears that you're also being fined for destruction of public property. holy shit.

"george—" you try to talk to him but he continues to walk in front of you. a sigh leaves you. "come on, george, i'm really sorry."

he doesn't say anything. however, he does open the door for you to get in. you're not one to turn down the littlest bit of mercy from your boyfriend.

it's unclear to you how you're supposed to fix all of this. you didn't think it was that big of a deal! it's that you made a small mistake, and one of the guys got a little bit too competitive. of course, it was never in the plan to make george find out about this little hobby of yours.

it's at home when he finally talks to you. he asks you, "are you okay?"

"yes," you don't pick a fight with him about how he only asks that now. "i'm okay."

"good," he drops his anger quickly as he embraces you. "why didn't you tell me?"

burying your face in his shoulder, you're hesitating to tell him. "i don't know..."

he calls your name and you give in. "it's just that i wanted to be like you, in a way. but i'm too fucking old for karting now, i doubt anyone would take me in."

gently, he pulls you away to caress your face. he looks at you like you've done no wrong, like an utter angel in his eyes. he tells you, "baby, if you wanted to go racing then we could go racing. hell, maybe i could pay someone to give us a circuit for a while and we can go karting ourselves."

"it's not the same—"

"of course it's not the same," he cuts you off. "because it's gonna be you and me. not you and some random people that are probably out for blood. it's you, who loves me. and me, who loves you. we'll both be safe and i can be there to watch you win."

your heart hurts from how much george loves you. a smile comes to you and he immediately kisses your forehead. you tell him, "you'll never let me win."

he laughs, "yeah, i won't."

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i am alive ~ anyways. here's a funky little thing. i love the idea of street-racing so bad even though i have no knowledge about it other than drive fast recklessly. also ! i'm opening up a prompt list soon for requests so if you have any ideas for prompts (dialogues and tags), feel free to send it over to my inbox or comment ! ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[fingertipsmp3]

I wish the phrase “waste of space” wasn’t so overused because it’s honestly the perfect insult. The implications behind it. ‘We could’ve put a cushion on that chair instead of him’

[simjaexy]

Wanting You

Pairing: Popular Boy! Sim Jaeyun x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Jake is the charming and athletic soccer player, known for his incredible talent and sportsmanship. He has a large fans following and the guy who can effortlessly balance his social life with his responsibilities. Jake's infectious smile and positive attitude makes him a favorite among students, so why can’t you notice him?

Genre: Smut

Warnings: MINORS DNI!!, Dom! Jake x Sub! Reader, Semi Public Sex, Spanking, Choking, Manhandling, Sucking, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms

Notes: Not proofread! This is part 1 of the Wanting You Series.

Read Sunghoon here.

Jake Sim was one of the four heartthrobs of the campus, known for his incredible talent on the soccer field and his charming personality off it.

He was the guy with the infectious smile that could light up any room and a positive attitude that made everyone feel at ease.

However, when the challenge to win your heart was announced among the his friend group, Jake knew he had to step up his game.

The challenge was simple: Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon would each try to win your heart, and the first to succeed would be declared the winner.

But for Jake, it wasn't just about winning a challenge; it was about showing his friends that he has game and that he could pull anyone, even someone as innocent as you.

It all started on a warm, sunny afternoon. Jake and his friend, Jay were messing around with each other when Jake noticed you walking out the girls bathroom.

You strolled along students, bowing your head to anyone you knew or just being nice. Jake ignored Jay talking, focused to see what book you had in your hand.

Jake’s plan was simple, see what type of stuff you like and act like he had the same hobby. He knew his friends wouldn’t come up with something like that.

Besides Jake was the nice guy, the one that had everyone feeling happy at the end of the day because of him, especially girls.

Jake patted Jay shoulder, “Hey you think the library would be open today?”

Jay gave him a slightly surprised look, “The library? You don’t even read.”

Jake rolled his eyes, “It’s for a class.”

Jay shrugged his shoulders, “How would I know?”

Jake scoffed and walked ahead of Jay, “I’ll see you later.” Was all he said as he walked away from Jay, ignoring his protest.

Upon arriving to the library, Jake felt goosebumps. He hated books, word after word was just not his things to look at.

He walked passed a group of girls, giving them his charming smile that had them giggling.

He roamed around until he finally saw you, looking for a book to get. You looked deep in thought, maybe this was his chance to talk to you.

He leaned against the bookshelf, acting as if he was looking for a book too. As you tried to reach for the book, Jake slipped into character and went behind you, pressing his broad chest up to your back.

You gasped in surprise when you felt him and whipped your body around. He gave you a smile, “Sorry if I scared you, did you want this book?”

You slowly nodded your head, not sure where he came from. He lended you the book which you took and thanked him. You dashed away from him before he could say a word.

He groaned. He was so close to saying something to you. And yet, you ran like a mouse.

He mentally noted that the book was a romance book.

Jake hasn’t seen you for a few days, so his plan was somewhat flocking, but that still didn’t stop him from looking for you and trying to have a conversation.

You would either simply ignore him or just say a short answer and go away. He hated that it pissed him off to the point he wanted to rip his hair out. But then again, you looked cute when your blushing.

Even though he tried talking to you though, group of girls would flock all around him, asking about his games or if he’s free on the weekends, and you just simply walk past him, not bothering saying hi.

After multiple looks for you, he finally spotted you sitting under a tree, engrossed in a book. He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, and approached you with his signature smile.

“Hey Y/n! Long time no see!” He chimed. You looked up from your book.

“We saw each other not that long ago Jake.” You muttered. Jake hummed.

“Well I wanted to see you again. Whatcha reading?” He asked. He sat next to you gently as you look back down at your book.

“It’s just really interesting.” You replied.

Jake shook his head, “Is it romance?”

“Y-Yeah. It was a random pick, but I like romance so it’s fine.” You said.

“No way! I love romance books too.” He beamed. You gave him a confused look.

“You do? Since when?” You questioned. You never expected Jake to have likings to books at all. You’ve seen him complain all the time in class about it.

“Since I was a kid. I don’t usually read as often as I did when I was younger, but ever since I saw you reading in class, it made me wanna read again.” He said.

You were stunned to speak. He watches you in class? “Oh well that’s nice to hear.” You smiled. Jake smiled back.

“I know this may come off weird, but do you wanna something like a book study at the library?” He says.

Your eyes widened, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, “You wanna have a book study? As in we both read the same book and we say our thoughts on it?”

He nodded, “Yeah like that! It’ll be fun.”

You thought for a moment. Having a reading session with Jake didn’t sound that bad of an idea to you so why not?

“O-Ok we can do that.” You shyly smiled. Jake gave you a content look.

“Great, how does seven sound for tomorrow. We could go to the library.” He said.

You nodded and tucked a hair behind your ear, “That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll see you then.” He grinned. He got up and waved you goodbye. You stared down at your book, your face flushed.

Jake on the other hand sighed, it’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.

The next day Jake got ready around six fourty. He planned on being there early so it seemed like he was too excited for the study that he just came early.

He grabbed his keys and left his house. On his way there he saw a notification of Jay talking about some hangout spot that they could go to later, but Jake ignored it, knowing that he won’t be able to make it.

He opened the library door and headed to a secluded table. He sat down and waited for you arrived which would be any second.

He heard panting behind him and turned around to see you breathless. You were dressed in a sweater and a skirt that was but short, but Jake wasn’t complaining.

“I’m sorry! Did I come late?” You said. You sat next to him and took out two books from your bag.

Jake grabbed one of them, it was a romance book, “No your fine. I just came too early.”

You giggled and tried fixing your hair, but failing miserably. Jake raised his hand to meet your hair, pushing a few strands back. You blushed and thanked him to which he gave you a wink.

“W-Well we can get to reading now. We can read for until we get to chapter three and then we can discuss, does that sound good?” You said.

Jake nodded, agreeing. You both began reading. You already getting interested while Jake sighed and averted his gaze elsewhere.

It was silent for about fifteen minutes, along the way Jake started reading, but skipping a few pages and sentences.

“Are you on chapter three?” You questioned. Jake gave you a smile and nodded.

You smiled and bookmarked your book, facing Jake, “So what did you like about so far?”

Jake pondered for a moment, “I guess I liked how the guy casually flirts with the girl while she was doing her job as a barista.”

You nodded your head excitedly, “Me too! I loved how poetic he sounded.”

Jake nodded, he didn’t even read what they were saying, “Yeah I totally agree.”

You both continued reading, going back and forth on your comments. Jake tried to keep up with what you were saying, in all honesty he couldn’t stop staring at your lips.

You lipgloss making your lips shiny as you talk. Jake out of habit bit his lips and nodded at your non existent words.

“So do you think she deserved that?” You suddenly said.

Jake stared at you for a moment, “Maybe?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “But those were a group of girls that were being mean-“

“You wanna go to my soccer game tomorrow?” He suddenly asked. He couldn’t stand talking about the romance book that was stupid to him.

He just wanted to see your reactions when he says words to you that has you stuttering.

You choked on your spit, “Your soccer game?” You croaked.

He gave you a light hearted smile, “Yeah. I want you to cheer me on. You’ll do that for me right?”

You thought for a moment, “I-I don’t know. I don’t really go to games period.”

Jake pouted, “So you won’t go for me?”

You shook your head frantically, “No it’s not like that! I just don’t like loud crowds.”

Jake hummed in understatement, “Well I’d feel better if you came. Now that we’re friends you know.”

You sucked on your bottom lip, you know you get bad anxiety with crowds, but the way Jake looked and sounded upset had you sighing and nodding, “Okay, I’ll go.”

He gave you a bright smile, “Really? The game starts at eight so just be there a bit early to get good seats.”

“Will do.” You replied.

Jake wasn’t lying when he said to get here early for good seats. You came a bit too early than you like to admit, but for some reason you were excited to see his game.

You’ve never been to a game before, so going to one for the first time for a guy had you feeling butterflies.

You noticed there wasn’t that much people and booked a front row seat. You noticed that the team and the opponent team were practicing.

Kicking and juggling the ball back and forth. You scanned around to look for Jake. Once you saw him you couldn’t help but blush.

He looked handsome with the way he pushed his hair back from getting on his face. His toned arms fitting perfectly in his jersey.

You shook your head. You shouldn’t think of him like that Y/n! You zoned off into space not noticing a voice calling your name.

You looked over to see Jake running towards you, “You made it!”

You gave him a cheerful smile, “Yeah, a bit early though.”

“There’s no problem with that.” He replied.You stared at him as he viewed the crowd. He then looked back at you.

“You’re not wearing our school colors.” He commented.

You looked down at your shirt, “O-Oh I didn’t have our color.”

He chuckled and took off his jersey, handing it to you, “You can wear this then. Don’t worry it’s clean, I just put it on.”

You stared in surprise, his abs in view almost had you drooling, “Oh you don’t have too-“

He cut you off, “It’s fine. Wear it. It’ll look pretty on you.”

You gave him a flustered look before grabbing it, “I’ll go put it on in the bathroom.”

Jake smirked, “Don’t take too long.”

You nodded and went to the bathroom. You took off your shirt and put on his jersey. You won’t lie and say that it didn’t look good on you.

It was about right, but it was something. You texted the bathroom and saw Jake already put in his spare jersey, waiting for you.

You walked over to him and made eye contact with him. He scanned your body up and down before grinning.

“Knew it’d look good on you.” He said. You blushed in embarrassment.

You both heard a whistle indicating the game was starting. Jake glanced at you, giving you a cheeky smile, “Wish me luck.”

He ran back to his team. You sat back down and watched as they all got into position. It was then until you noticed that there was a lot of girls staring at you in jealousy.

You tried to ignore them and focus on the game as everyone cheered when they scored or boo’d when the other team scored.

You watched as Jake kept making scores in causing the crowd to cheer in victory.

It was down to one more point for your school. You but your lip anxiously, watching as everyone was making noise.

Jake had the ball at the moment, swishing past the opponents and running fast. He wTched as the goalie got in position and kicked the ball hard, shooting it into the net.

You jumped just like everyone else when he scored. His teammates yelling in happiness and hugging Jake.

He happily laughed and smiled over at you. You smiled back and just like that he was running towards you, golfing you in a hug.

You giggled and broke the hug from him, “You did amazing!”

He grinned, “Only cause you were here.”

You felt a sense of accomplishment wash over you, happy that he won.

Jake felt like a madman. Ever since he saw you in his jersey, it felt like a light switch went on. He couldn��t help but jerk off every time he thought about you in his jersey, his cologne imprinting on you.

The way your perky tits sat perfectly in your bra, his jersey making it look tight. The way you hugged him that he could feel them against his chest.

Ever since that day it’s like he saw something knew light up inside him. The need of wanting to devour you. The need of wanting to make you his.

Currently he’s at the library waiting for you. It’s been a few days since that incident and you and Jake got a lot closer.

He would be openly flirty to you, loving the expressions you make. You’d playfully hit his arm as he’d laugh. He also took a liking to seeing you wear tight shirts too.

He waited a few more minutes before he felt hands go around his eyes, “Guess who.”

He chuckled i response, “Hm I’m not sure, mind giving me a hint?”

“She’s a lot smarter than you.” You teased. He scoffed offensively and took your hands off his eyes.

“Well that’s not nice.” He pouted. You giggled.

“I was thinking, do you wanna go into the more private rooms? I heard there’s gonna be a club coming here and I want some peace and quiet.”

Jake nodded his head, “That’s fine.”

You and Jake headed up the stairs and into a secluded area. You shut the door, “I heard this room was soundproof.”

Jake hummed, “Welk I guess that’s a good thing.”

You both sat down next to each other, you took out the books and handed one to Jake.

He took it and scanned it, “A new romance book?”

“Yup! I got it yesterday!” You chimed. He flipped through the pages. It seemed like a casual book.

You set the timer for fifteen minutes and began reading, Jake following along.

Jake read the book, feeling a bit weird at the fact that the age gap was pretty big with the women being in her twenties while the man was in his fourties’.

He’s not gonna lie, you picked a weird pick. As he continued flipping through the pages, he noticed a specific part of the book. A part that he didn’t expect.

He read the sentences. The man pulling the women by her hair as he fucks her. Jake felt a weird shift in the air.

He looked over at you and saw you on the same part, but you looked like you were farther than him, gulping hard as you read the sentences.

He smirked. You really were innocent. The timer suddenly went off t off causing you and Jake to jump.

You shut it off and cleared your throat, “Uh how far did you get?”

“Far enough.” Jake replied, his voice raspy. You gulped again.

“Did you last the part where he gave her the flowers?”

Jake nodded.

“How’d you feel about that?” You questioned.

Jake hummed, “I thought that was romantic.”

You nod, “I agree.”

“How’d you feel about the sex part?” He muttered. You felt your cheeks heating up.

“W-Well I thought it was romantic. I mean, It’s nice how he cares for her even when they’re doing it.” You stuttered.

You felt the air getting heavier and hotter. Jake spotted a hit closer to you, this time gripping your thigh.

“So you’d like if a man was dominate and mean or nice and soft to you?” He whispered in your ear.

You clamped your thighs together, but he opened them back up. You felt your breathing rapidly getting faster.

“I-I don’t know.” You whispered back, “I guess d-dominate?”

He couldn’t hold it in anymore, he cupped your face and smashed his lips onto your. The kiss was brutal and harsh, leaving you fighting for air.

You let out a gasp when you felt him fondle on your cloth breast, he took his chance to slip his tongue inside.

You moaned as he gripped your ass and easily lifted you up. He slammed you against the wall and went down on your neck, giving it hickeys.

You whimpered feeling his cloth dick rub against your own core. You began grinding down, feeling a gush of slick come out of you. You moaned and whimpered in pleasure.

“Fuck, if I known you’d be this loud I would’ve fucked you the last time we came.” He admitted. You let out a mewl in response.

The bet was still on though, he knew that, but it doesn’t hurt too have some fun with you. Besides, as long as his friends don’t know, he can do whatever he want.

He put you on the table and unbuckled his belt. You lay there gasping for air, whining when he prodded on your shorts.

Before he took off your shirt you gripped his wrist, “J-Jake wait I don’t know if you know but I’m a v-virgin.”

Jake felt himself stopping and staring at you. You’re willing to let him take your virginity? He suddenly felt a wash of pride wash over him.

There no way he didn’t win this challenge. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, “I’ll make sure it’s the best sex you’ll ever had.”

You lifted your hips when he took off your shorts along with your underwear. The sight was breathtaking to him.

You pussy wet and clenching around nothing. He cursed to him self before lowering down on your pussy. He felt you grip his hair, waiting for his next move.

He slowly licked your folds causing you to let out a sigh. He smirked and started going faster, feeling your pussy clench again.

“Jake-“

Before you could say more, he shoved his tongue in your hole causing you to scream. You clenched around his tongue as he sucked your pussy, groaning when he felt you pull his hair.

You whimpered when he pulled his tongue out and sucked on your bud. You felt your legs shake at the sudden pain and pleasure.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum Jake!” You moaned. You struggled to keep your eyes open and found yourself closing them, feeling your orgasm coming.

Jake used his finger to rub your bud as he shoved his tongue back into you. That’s when you lost it and arched you back and came on his tongue.

He slurped as if he’s been starving leaving you breathing harshly. He couldn’t it any longer, he needed to be inside you now.

He pulled his pants and boxers down revealing his dick, it was veiny and red at the tip. You felt yourself making a little noise when he rubbed it on your folds.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He whispered in your ear before pushing inside you. You both moaned in unison as he slowly rocked his hips in you.

You cried out feeling his mushroom tip hit your spongy walls. You moaned when he suddenly gripped your neck, “Fuck your pussy is so tight. Clenching me in so good baby.” He moaned.

He started going at a faster pace, slapping your thigh causing you to moan loud. Thank god the room was soundproof, cause that means he could only hear your slutty moans.

He lifted your legs over his shoulders and started pounding at a rough pace making your eyes roll back. The sound of wet skin slapping had your head spinning.

He groaned at your wetness engulfing his hard dick, feeling you sucking him in just right. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whined when you felt him grinding into your cunt.

“J-Jake I’m close, please.” You cried. He lowered his head next to your ear, saying dirty words.

“Been wanting to fuck this pussy ever since I saw you.”

“Gonna fuck you wearing my jersey next time.”

“Want me to fill you up with my cum? Yeah?”

“Fuck you feel so good.”

You felt your orgasm snap at his last words and let out a silent scream. Jake snapped his hips four more times before cumming deep inside of you.

You both panted hard. He slowly took out his dick and grabbed tissues from the desk, wiping his cum and you cum off.

“Shit I didn’t mean to cum-“

“It’s okay I’m on birth control.” You cut him off. He chuckled and kissed your temple.

He helped you out your clothes on before he put his on and helped you up.

“I can’t believe you took my virginity in a library.” You laughed.

“Well good thing it was soundproof.” He replied.

As much as Jake wanted to ask you out, he knew he had to wait and see how his friends would have their ways with you to make you fall for them.

So instead, he drops you home, but not without giving you one last kiss under the stars.

[jyoongim]

Can I request an Alastor x reader where she is a newer sinner. Really nerdy, obsessed with history, fun facts, animal facts, and shy at first. Just says things randomly, like “did you know that if a cow has twins more often than not she abandons ones just rearranging things when bored, someone will come down to lobby in the middle of the night and there she is moving the couches at like 3am. Doesn’t think when she speaks when she sees Alastor in his overlord form just says something like “smash” before walking off. Kind of a this gives me conflicted feelings and made me learn something about myself I don’t think I should know. It can be smut or fluff I don’t mind! My friends just say I have adhd, never been tested, don’t wanna be lol, I just ramble when I get excited and talk too much or too loud when excited too. It’d be nice to see a reader like me :) thank you love! I’m trying not to ramble so I’m sorry if this all over the place!

Hehehe could be possible adhd but I’m also certain everyone has a touch of tism as well so you’re not alone hehehe.

(I too have undiagnosed adhd)

Typing this from my phone cause I’m scared to do it on my work computer😭 should have brought my iPad to work

————————————————————————-

You had always been…different.

When you were alive you spent most of your time doing your hobbies or reading. You weren’t much of a social butterfly but did make the effort every once in a while. But people always treated you like you were an annoyance.

You were strange. Even by demon standards.

But you made a lovely addition to the Princess of Hell’s hotel.

You enjoyed being about to sprout random facts and have people actually be interested.

Animals, history, science you name it you randomly knew it.

You rambled during bonding excersies until you caught yourself yapping and instantly apologized.

You talked to yourself (having been caught in the act more than once)

Husk called you a loose screw but Angel found it charming. Charlie thought you were just the cutest.

And Alastor….

Well you definitely piqued his interest.

————————————————————————

You and Angel were having a “self care” day. Well Angel was. You were just happy to play in his fluff. Angel was telling you about the latest shoot he had to do and then the subject jumped to saying lives. “Oooh cmon toots don’t tell me no one’s were had the hots for that brain of yours” you pin curled his hair, “hmmmm not that I know of. Besides most people think I’m strange, wouldn’t want to scare the masses”

Angel rolled his eyes “well what about here at the hotel? Anyone catch yer fancy?”

You think about it but your mind comes to a blank. Nope you couldn’t in point who you would be the SLIGHTEST but interested in.

The sound of shoes met your ears and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby. Your ear perked up and your eyes immediately locked in.

You would say you and Alastor were friends. The two of you had great conversations, he listened to your rambles and always told you facts of the time period when he was alive.

He wasn’t in his usual pristine attire. Instead of the polish look, he was dressed more casual. A white button up, rolled at his elbows, wearing dress pants and suspenders, he even didn’t have his gloves on.

He paid no mind to the two of you in the lobby, seemingly in his own world.

“Smash” you said tilting your head, causing Angel to burst out laughing and you blush when you realized you said that out loud.

Alastor turned around, eyebrows quirked “something amusing was said?”

You quickly shook your head while Angel chuckled “Our fact machine here thinks you’re hot*

Alastor blinked, his eyes settling on you.

You wanted to hide in the couch from embarrassment, but Alastor just took a sip of his coffee and began to walk from where he came. He got to the hallway door because pausing briefly, turning to look at you over his shoulder

“I suppose I would ‘smash’ you too dear”

Your cheeks burned and Angel choked as Alastor disappeared.

[stuckinapril]

how to feel like a person?

digital detox. if your phone was taken away, how much free time would you have? how empty would your day be? do you have things to do outside of scrolling endlessly on different apps? if you come to the realization that a lot of your time consists of being glued to your screen, you need to start considering incorporating no-phone time blocks into your day. a big part of our daily misery boils down to consuming so many things in 24 hours, to the point that we feel too burned out to do anything else that truly nourishes our body and soul.

establish a routine. discipline is so important for happiness. start out small—schedule your day, get consistent with your skincare routine, take daily walks—and then gradually add more and more things. don’t try to revamp your life all at once. that’s a surefire way to quit altogether. be realistic about your limits, but also push yourself where appropriate so you don’t stay static.

journal. mentalize your feelings. don’t suppress your emotions. be curious about your thought processes and what makes you tick. always be self-compassionate, but hold yourself accountable where it’s due.

start pursuing hobbies. make a list of all the things that interest you and try them out. there are so many things out out there; one of them is bound to stick. don’t go into it with the negative mindset that you know you wouldn’t like doing x and y. some things you might know in your heart are not for you, but don’t rule out possibilities you’re ambivalent about. be open-minded and see finding your interests not as a chore, but as an exciting prospect.

practice gratitude. this is such a popular advice bc it works. start off your day by listing 3 things you’re grateful for. it’s crazy how so many people don’t realize it’s a blessing to just be alive, when so many people get robbed of their lives so early on. i’m not saying to never shoot for more, but having a foundation of contentment goes a very long way.

have a solid set of friends, but march your own march. you don’t need anybody; you just want them. same thing with friends. friends are good for us because we are a social species, but if one person were to leave your life, it’s not the end of the world. your life is already colorful, filled with so many things you’re doing for yourself—furthering your career, improving on your skills, working on your fitness—that a person leaving shouldn’t be detrimental. never be so dependent on someone you can’t envision a life without them. you need to make your life exciting on your own; you can’t have someone else doing all the heavy lifting for you.

have an abundance mindset. if one thing fails, that just leaves room for something better to take its place. you are always bound to find better. there are 8 billion people in this world. there are countless different possibilities. failure or loss does not mean it’s game over for you.

see pain as a learning experience. true growth spurts do truly come from heartbreak or failure. it teaches us to pick ourselves back up and try again. always have a growth mindset. that relationship didn’t work out? now you know what to avoid for the next relationship. you’re single again? now you get to focus on and learn more about yourself. that friendship ended? at least you won’t waste any more time on someone who doesn’t value having you in their life. you didn’t get that job? that leaves the door open for other possibilities. you didn’t get the score you wanted? now you know what to work on to do better next time.

action-directed things to improve your self-esteem. you can sit in your room all day and tell yourself you’re the best thing since sliced bread and everyone’s obsessed with you, but truly building up your self-esteem comes not only from thinking positive things about yourself, but also acting on them. work on things you care about. work on yourself as a person. love who you are, but also strive for self-improvement. do things that can act as proof—to you—for why you’re worthy. it’s a game changer.

dispense of the victim-of-life mentality. it’s safe to dwell in your misery and keep blaming things on factors out of your control, but where would that get you? it’s just resulting in you expending your energy needlessly. stop seeing life as jumping from tragedy to tragedy. actively fight against your negativity bias. recognize that for every bad thing that happens, 100 good things happen, but we as humans have a tendency of focusing only on the negatives. sort through your emotions, make peace with what happened, but pick yourself up and move on. the most valuable thing we all have on this planet is time. it’s limited and it will come to an end eventually. you don’t want to look back and resent yourself for not simply letting go of things and appreciating what you have around you.

[i314flix]

— PART ONE, PART TWO.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 3k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!

Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.

As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.

They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.

When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.

But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.

“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”

“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”

You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”

“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”

He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”

“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”

“Wow. I never knew.”

“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”

You both laughed.

You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.

Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.

So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.

“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.

Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”

“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”

“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.

“Hm?”

“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.

“Oh, I really don’t.”

“Sirius…”

“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.

There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.

“It was nice.” You told him finally.

“Just nice?”

“Wonderful,” you corrected.

He nodded solemnly, waiting.

“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”

He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”

He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”

Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.

For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.

You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.

Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.

Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.

The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.

You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.

You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.

It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”

“I do.”

“Which means you really have to go to bed.”

“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”

“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”

“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”

You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”

“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”

Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”

“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”

“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”

In your silence, he got the answer he needed.

“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”

“Sometimes they have a point, though.”

“Such as?”

“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”

He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”

“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”

 “Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”

You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”

“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”

“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”

“What?”

“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”

“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”

Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.

So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.

Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.

“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”

He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”

You both laughed at his statement.

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.

“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”

“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”

Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”

“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”

Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.

“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.

You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.

He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“But—”

“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”

“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.

You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”

He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”

“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”

“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”

He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“Sirius.”

“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.

You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.

Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.

For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Just a little lie

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Stark female reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Daddy kink, Age gap (18+ warning, minors dni)

Summary: You join the mystic arts after your dad, Tony Stark, suggested the idea. You hated the idea until you met your teacher, Doctor Stephen Strange.

A/N: Hope you like this fic…

You were in your early twenties and had never really been one for hobbies. Most of the time, you felt pretty content just laying on your bed, your phone in hand as you scrolled through app after app. But your dad seemed to be obsessed with pestering you about doing something. Anything. To go outside, to maybe help him and the other Avengers, or to just try anything different. Truthfully, you never really paid all that much attention to him.

And it was a day just like any other when he entered your room, sighing when he got sight of you. “You’re not gonna stay in here all day, are you?”

“Hm?” you let out, your eyes stuck on your phone.

“I think you spend far too much time in your room.”

You shrugged. “It’s a nice room.”

“Y/N…” He placed a hand on your phone before pulling it from your grasp. “I have an idea. You might not like the sound of it, but I really think it’ll be good for you.”

Frowning at him, you slowly sat up. “What is it?”

“I want you to try something different.”

“How different?”

“Does the mystic arts interest you at all?”

“The mystic arts?”

“I may know a very good teacher. It took a bit of convincing, but he told me he’s willing to teach you if you want to try it out. Don’t you think it’ll be fun? You’ll learn a lot?”

Slowly, you laid back down on your bed. “I don’t know. What kind of whack job teaches mystic arts?”

Your father let out a little chuckle. “He’s a very reliable whack job. What do you say?”

You snatched your phone out of his hands and gave him a little shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it, I guess.”

You could hear your father sighing at that, but your eyes were quickly back on your phone, your focus on the video you had been watching before he came into the room. Mystic arts sounded more strange than fun…

******

There was a knock on your door, and you looked up from your phone with a raised eyebrow. Your father stood there with a sly look on his face.

“Yes?” you asked.

“There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

“And who might that be?”

“Your new mystic arts teacher.”

Your eyes rolled. “I don’t feel like meeting him.”

“Please,” your father pleaded. “Just do this for me. And if you aren’t interested, I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

You blew out a breath of air and lifted yourself off the bed. “Alright, okay. Since you asked so nicely.”

“I’ll wait for you in the meeting room.”

You moved extra slowly, already fully convinced that your father was wasting your time. But when you walked into the meeting room, you almost stopped right there in your tracks when you got sight of one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall and dark-haired with grey streaks tucked behind his ears, the man tilted his head as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it when you smiled at him, noticing how he sent you a small smile right back.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Stephen Strange,” your father said, gesturing between the two of you. “Strange, as you know by now, this is my daughter, Y/N.”

“Yes, Stark, I know who she is, because you wouldn’t stop pestering me to teach her,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes before he focused all his attention back on you.

All of a sudden, the mystic arts sounded a lot more interesting.

******

It had been a whole month since Stephen Strange had become your teacher. And he was a good teacher indeed. Thorough and clear and communicative, but there was something else he was much, much better at. Something you couldn’t tell anyone about, especially your dad.

There just had been something about Stephen that you couldn’t get enough of. His voice, his touch. The way he looked at you. It all drew you into him, and before you knew it, the two of you had more than just a student-teacher relationship. It became something better and wilder and dirtier and forbidden. You fell for him hard and fast, and you had spent the past few weeks lying to your dad when you left the Avengers compound. You’d tell him you were going to hang out with your friends when really, you were darting over to the New York Sanctum to meet up with Stephen so he could take you and make you all his.

It was what you were doing at that very moment. Looking over your shoulder, you gave your dad a little wave. “I’m going to meet up with the girls now!” you called out. “I don’t wanna be late for dinner!”

“Have fun, sweetheart!” he replied.

After quickly opening up a portal right to that familiar building in New York, you stepped inside, instantly spotting Stephen.

“Hey,” he said lowly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a little giggle.

He stepped over to you and quickly closed the gap between the two of you. “I need you so bad.”

Still giggling, you tilted your head at him. “You only saw me a few hours ago…”

“That’s too long.” Stephen laughed, pressing his lips to yours. He gave you a long, deep, wild kiss, his big hands on your hips. “What lie did you tell your dad today?”

“I said I was going out to dinner with friends.” You pressed your lips to his again, loving the feeling of Stephen gripping your hips tighter. He pulled you up against him and it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he was just as eager to have you as you were to have him. Your legs wrapped around him as he carried you, and you knew exactly where he was taking you. It was a place you had been to many times before, and that was his bedroom.

Stephen threw you to the bed before covering your body with his own. He was all big and broad as he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting right into your mouth as he grabbed your hands and pinned them to the bed. You could feel him getting hard from behind his pants as he ground into you, your hunger for him growing so fast. Your lips and tongues were clashing together as you pushed your hands through Stephen’s locks, tugging at them as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter. God, you wanted him. And from the feeling of his hard cock pushing up against you, you were pretty sure he was craving you just as bad.

“Please, Stephen,” you said when you pulled away from his lips, making sure your voice was light and teasing. “Please, I want it.”

He let out a deep grunt above you. “You want it, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“What do you want, huh? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take me,” you whispered. “I want you to take me and make me all yours. I just wanna be yours. Please. Please, Daddy.”

And you knew that nickname was gonna make him lose it. A second later, his hands were on your top, pushing it over your head before he tossed it to the side. Eager, big hands yanked your jeans down, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Stephen said, tilting his head at you. “Such a gorgeous fucking girl.”

“Please…”

“I’ve got you.” His hands found your panties before he gave them a harsh tug down your legs, and then you were completely exposed for him, every part of you utterly on show. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Mm, what would your dad say if he saw me staring at you like this? He’d be so mad if he knew I was looking at his daughter all naked for me.”

“Yeah, he’d be pretty angry,” you said with a little chuckle.

He ran a thumb against your slit, moving it up towards your clit where he gave the little bud a rub.

“Very angry,” he continued. “Especially since I’m your teacher. Your much, much older teacher. Ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

He was working your clit just right, rubbing and rubbing as his eyes scanned all over your body. You wanted to feel him, wanted him to fill you up already, but you let him circle his thumb against your clit, your toes curling as your hands yanked and pulled at his sheets.

“So close,” you whispered. “So close, Daddy.”

“Cum for me. Cum for me right now.”

You were pretty sure only Stephen could make you cum on demand. You writhed underneath him as your orgasm took over, pure pleasure and heat taking over your body as Stephen undressed before you. Soon, he was all bare, his hard cock on show as he pulled you right onto his lap, your pussy hovering right over his tip before he pulled you down onto him, the swollen head pushing into you with ease thanks to how soaked you were.

“Oh my God,” you let out, your eyes quickly shutting. “God, feels so good.”

“Good girl. Take it. Take my cock,” Stephen murmured below you. His hands landed on your hips, holding you in place so you could work your pussy along his length.

With shaky hands, you rested them against Stephen’s chest. Pleasure was already pumping through your body as you lifted yourself up and firmly pushed back down on his cock, letting him fill you up to the brim.

“Oh, Stephen,” you cried out, your nipples hard and your pussy soaked, and your need to cum once again rising.

“That’s it. Ride my cock,” Stephen said. “Your poor father is back at the Avengers compound, waiting for you to get back to him, huh? But here you are on my cock screaming out my name.”

You gasped as you began to bounce on his cock, that swollen tip hitting that sweet spot so deep inside of you. You threw your head back as you worked your pussy up and down, up and down. It all felt so good. So filthy and bad, but so good at the same time.

“Feels so nice, Stephen,” you let out. “Your cock feels so nice.”

“Yeah? Keep riding it. Don’t stop until you cum around my cock. Come on. Don’t stop.”

You whimpered and worked your pussy up and down his cock faster, letting out little squeals every time the swollen head of his cock hit that spot so, so deep inside of you. Your pussy was stuffed with his cock, your little hole all soaked and dripping as Stephen pushed his cock so deep inside of you.

“I’m so close,” you said with a whisper. You could feel your orgasm blossoming. The delicious feeling that you were chasing. It was right there for you to grab as you bounced more and more, your nails almost digging into Stephen’s chest as he thrusted into you deep and hard from underneath. It was too much for you as you came around his cock right then and there. “Daddy, fuck. Oh, God. Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop. I won’t fucking stop until you cum.”

“Mm, Stephen. Please. Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure why you were begging or what you were begging for. All you knew was that Stephen felt so good buried deep inside of you. He always took you so good. Every single time. But you were always taken aback by how well he knew your body.

“Good fucking girl.” Stephen’s teeth were clenched as he flipped you both over, his cock pulling out of you. His scarred hands found your hips as he turned you around, your stomach on the bed. He grabbed at your hips, maneuvering your body so that you were on your hands and knees. “There we fucking go,” he said. “You think I’m done? Not even close.”

With that, you felt the soaked head of his cock brush up against your entrance, and then he was slamming his cock into you a second later. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him stretch you out, the sensation drawn out and oh-so-delicious. It was filthy, but you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You feel so good, Stephen,” you said as Stephen pushed into you from behind. Deep. He was so deep. So deep you could feel every inch of him, his heavy balls pressed right up against your pussy. Your fingers clawed at the sheets beneath you, desperate to cling on to something as he took you and made you all his. “Feels… Feels so nice, Daddy.”

“I know. I fucking know,” Stephen muttered. “Mm, your dad would be so mad if he saw you like this, huh? He’d be so pissed off seeing you bent over with your ass in the air like this. With you taking my fucking cock.”

“He’d be so mad,” you said with a little sigh. “He’d be so angry if he saw what you were doing to me.” 

“Yeah, he’d be real fucking pissed, wouldn’t he?”

“Mhm,” you said, your eyes half closed.

You were getting lost in the pleasure of it all. Stephen was pumping his cock into you deep and fast and hard and rough, stretching you out so perfectly and taking you in a way only he could. He was balls deep inside of you, your little hole completely stuffed to the brim with his cock as he pulled out and slammed back into you with a deep, masculine grunt.

“Stephen,” you whined. “Mm, you’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he muttered. “You like that big, hard cock, sweetheart?”

“I… I do. So much!”

“That feels so good, doesn’t it?” Stephen mumbled. “I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum right around my cock. You’re so close. I can tell you’re close.”

He was right. You could already feel yourself clenching around his cock, that pleasure growing inside of you so fast you could barely take it. He kept sliding his cock deep inside of you, fucking you so deep that you were certain you could feel him in your stomach. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you let him fuck you. You let him take you and make you all his, his length stretching you out and the swollen tip of his cock hitting that spot again and again. The feeling was so intense and wild, your pussy dripping wet and your need to meet your peak growing by the second. Your shaky fingers grabbed the sheets below you as you desperately cried out, your pussy being fucked and stuffed and pounded from behind. It was all too much. Too good. You couldn’t hold on much longer. You could feel how close you were, how wet you were, how hungry you were to cum.

“Stephen,” you cried out. “So close. I’m so… I’m so…”

“Cum for me,” he muttered from behind you, his fingers digging into your ass. “Cum for me. Cum right around my cock. Do it. I know you wanna do it. I know you’re close. Just fucking cum for me.”

It was with one more deep, long thrust of his cock that you lost all control. It just felt too good and soon you were cumming right around his cock, your pussy gushing and soaking his length as he carried on pounding into you from behind. You screamed out his name and fell to the bed, and then a second later, you heard Stephen let out a deep grunt as he pushed into you hard and fast. He was cumming too. You could feel him emptying himself inside of you, the liquid hot and sticky as he coated your walls with his seed. It was filthy and wrong. You both knew that. Stephen was so much older than you and he was one of your dad’s friends, but God, you just couldn’t help but love being so raw and dirty for him. You were pretty sure he loved it just as much as you did.

“Mm, Stephen,” you said softly. “So good.”

He was panting from behind as he flipped you over and got you settled on your back. Your mind was all hazy as he moved into the bathroom and came back with a washcloth, cleaning you up gingerly. It was funny that he could be so rough and animalistic when fucking you but then so sweet and gentle when it was all over and done with.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he got into bed, sliding up next to you.

You nodded. “I’m okay. Tired, but okay. Who wouldn’t be tired after all of that?”

He pulled you close to him, your head on his broad chest and his arm wrapped around you. You laid there in pure silence, with you listening to the sound of Stephen’s heartbeat in your ear. It was a comforting sound.

“You know, your dad would kill me if he saw you in bed with me like this,” he murmured. “He’d strangle me himself, or set his entire team onto me.”

Looking up at him, you gave him a playful roll of your eyes. “You say that all the time.”

“Well, he’d be pretty mad, don’t you think?”

Craning your neck, you gave him a little kiss. “Well, we better hope that we never get caught. That won’t end too well.”

“No, it won’t.” He laughed before his eyes landed on the clock. “How long do we have until you need to get back home?”

You followed his gaze to the clock. “Um, about an hour.”

“So, that means we have enough time for round two then, huh?”

Giggling, you looked back into his eyes. “At least let me get a little bit of rest first.”

He hummed and held you closer, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose into his neck as you got lost in the feeling of him. He was right about your dad being pissed. There was no way he’d approve of you being with Stephen, but at that moment, you told yourself to forget about the consequences and focus on the wonderful feeling of being there in Stephen’s arms. You were pretty sure there was nothing better than being tangled up with him.

[sunvmars]

honeybee | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab!reader

masterlist

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing- obv. smut & smut implications (nothing hardcore). slightly obsessive steve. occasionally innocent and shy steve rogers deserves its own warning bc…adorable. this also hasn’t been proof read

summary: after two years of knowing you, steve has learned everything about you. you became his best friend, and you, his. steve follows you around simply wanting to please you and do everything for you. finally you make the first move and steve wants to learn how to please you in other ways.

Steven Grant Rogers craves nothing more in this world than to please you in every possible way. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? No worries, he’s there within seconds to help you. And, no, he definitely wasn’t kind of following you. Hungry but don’t feel like making something? Steve would get or make you whatever you wanted and then some- and he’d have it back to you in 30 minutes maximum. You’re sore after a long mission? He’s on it immediately. He gathers every possible muscle cooling crème or oil he can find to give you a back massage. Needless to say, Steve would do anything for you. If you wanted him to hang the moon for you he’d find a way to do it.

Steve’s had romantic feelings for you for forever. However, over the last few months he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to more venereal places. Whenever you curled up against him in your sleep during one of your recent movie nights, all he could focus on was how your backside felt pressed against his groin. While he’s massaging your aching back and legs after training, the only thing he can think of is how he wants to touch every inch of you. Just last week he took you out to get your favorite ice cream, but found himself only capable of paying attention to the way your lips curled around the spoon. He couldn’t help but notice the way your tongue flicked out to quickly lick the leftover sugary treat from your lips.

The feelings were new for Steve. He was well used to how you made his breath catch every time you’re near, but the thoughts he was having of you recently were distasteful in his opinion. No matter what he did in attempt to banish the daydreams, they wouldn’t budge.

Currently Steve was alone in his room and trying to concentrate on his drawing- originally planning to draw a lavender field for you. He knew you loved that he’d gotten back into his previously retired hobby and loved to see your smile when he hands you new artwork. He also knew you’d probably hang it up on your wall with the other pieces he made for you. Not that he’d ever vocalize it but your approval and praise keeps his world spinning. Somewhere in the middle of sketching out the background his mind had shifted.

No longer was he thinking about the beautiful flowers; he was thinking about purely you. All he can manage to think of is how many different ways there are for him to make you feel good. He’s seen things over the years and heard things from Buck that give him a rough idea of how to pleasure you, but he truly still had no clue where to start. Steve yearns for you to teach him everything about your body; he wants to learn where and how to touch you to make you feel the same need for him as he does for you.

The pit of neediness growing in his stomach is quickly replaced with frustration. Steven had felt sexual attraction before of course, but he’d never thought of a woman sexually for this long. He knew he wanted to wait until he was truly in love with someone before he had sex. Although it gives him some peace to know that intimate thoughts come with being in love, not being able to knock the constant want to touch you was aggravating. He knew you were made for him though and it made it worth every irritating thought or confusing feeling. You were his missing piece and he would save himself for you no matter how long he had to wait.

“Steven?” you called from outside the door, knocking gently.

The sudden noise startled him from his thoughts, forcing the growing neediness he felt to the back of his mind. He stood up quietly, walking towards the door after closing his sketchbook. His brain short circuited immediately after opening the door to reveal you. You were all dressed up for Stark’s party tonight and fucking hell you were a vision. The corset dress you’d chosen to wear fit your figure perfectly and the baby blue colored fabric complimented your complexion. Your hair and makeup was done perfectly in Steve’s eyes too. The smile that tugged on your lips when you saw him made his heart flip. When your eyes scanned over him, worry dully visible in your gaze at his silence, he’d tried to spit the words out.

“Y/n,” Steve whispered as he tried to find the right words. “You…you look amazing in that dress. I meant your dress is gorgeous. I’m…shit. I’m sorry,” he manages to say, stumbling over a few words causing him to stutter a bit.

The sound of your giggle eases his nerves and he musters up a smile. He quickly takes another glance over your body before gaining an unexplainable boost of confidence, “you really do look divine in that dress, Honeybee.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” you respond softly as you brush a fallen strand of hair from your face.

Your eyes rake over his body now. His white t-shirt clung to his muscular figure, showing off his biceps and toned abs. The black sweatpants he wore often now showcased an obviously growing bulge. For a second he feels his breath quicken under your gaze.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the party? It might be fun, Stevie.”

A sigh escapes his parted lips and he shakes his head, “no, no. I’ll be okay here. I’m not feeling great today.”

“Anything I can do to help? What’s bothering you?”

Your head tilted as your fingers grazed his jaw gently. He tensed up momentarily at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately. Steve practically melted at your soft touch; a touch so caring and gentle.

“I’m alright, but thank you. It’s just a headache.”He takes your hand away from his jaw to bring it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I hope you have fun tonight, doll.”

“I’ll try. You should get some rest. You know where to find me if you need me, hm?”

Steve releases your hand with a smile, allowing your arm to rest back by your side. You’d left once you reassured him that you’d call if you needed him.

Steve went back to his drawing after awhile, deciding to watch a movie after finishing the piece. Unbeknownst to him, you were tiring of the party- social battery draining by the minute. That’s how, only an hour and a half after you left, you had shown up at his door again. Even in pajamas that consisted of just shorts and a tank top you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Your hair was a little ruffled from changing out of your dress and your breathing was slower than normal.

“Are you sleepy?” Steve asks before stepping aside to let you in.

“More than sleepy- I am exhausted,” you sighed. You stepped into his bedroom and shuffled your way towards his bed. After shutting the door, he watched as you crawled into his bed to get comfortable. He smiled softly to himself before sauntering over to you.

“Can I do anything for you, Honeybee?”

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Of course. Anything for you,” he reassures you as he sits down next to you, “I’m only a few minutes into the movie I started. Do you wanna finish it with me or find something else?”

“We’ll just watch it from here.” You sighed again, now too comfortable in Steve’s presence to even worry about the movie and only wanting to curl up next to his warm body.

He lays down on the bed, allowing you to lay however you want. You’d chosen to lay your head on his chest and let his fingers play in your hair. “I appreciate you. I don’t say that enough. You’re my best friend. And you take such good care of me,” you mumbled to the blonde, his chest threatening to muffle what you said. Luckily for him, though, he had heard it.

“I… I’ll always take care of you, pretty girl,” he cooed, “do you need anything else?”

“No. You’re always doing stuff for me. I just want to relax with you.”

He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at your consideration for him. Steve knew you cared for him, but it only made his heart grow fonder when you expressed it out loud. It was times like these when he felt like more than a friend- like maybe you feel the same fondness for him. But he was never great at picking up on cues with women unless they expressed their intentions directly. In fact, most of his knowledge on women came from Bucky. Buck tries to convince him that you do actually like him the same way, which was true, but Steve would not make the first move and take the chance on mistaking your friendliness for something else.

The first half of the movie seemed to drag on forever. Not because he thought it was boring, rather because the only thing he was paying attention to was your fingernails tracing his abs through his shirt. He’s about to readjust himself under his blanket to hide his growing bulge but then it happens; there’s a nude woman on the screen writhing and moaning under her male counterpart. He feels your body still, your breath comes to a stop for a few seconds, and you squirm a little under the weight of his arm due to the awkwardness of the situation.

The two of you lay there for the entirety of the scene, hoping it’ll be over soon. Realistically it only lasted about a minute, but to Steve it felt like five. It wasn’t the scene unfolding on the tv in front of him that was working him up, no, it was the unpreventable thoughts of reciprocating the actions on you. Not that he had realized like you did, but every few seconds his grip on your hair would tighten. He’d twirl a strand of hair around his fingers and mindlessly tug gently on it. Your thighs pressed together at his touch. A need for him that you tried to get rid of pooled deep down in your stomach. Soon enough the movie was over, both of you remained mostly quiet throughout the rest of the film.

“So…did you like the movie, Honeybee?”

“It was okay,” you lifted your head and smiled up at him.

Steve wishes he didn’t see the sight below him that you’d created. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted as you took slow breaths. You’d given him the best view of your cleavage and tempting neck with the way your head was leaned back.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”

“Yes, yeah I’m fine. Just tired, y’know,” he responded with urgency in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “hey, get up for just a second? I have something for you.”

Your head lifts from his chest and your body straightened out as you stretched your limbs. He walked over to his desk, bringing back a piece of paper that looked blank in the darkened room. After taking the paper and looking at it under the tv light, you could see that it was drawing of a beautiful lavender field with a sunset in the distance.

“Oh, Stevie, it’s beautiful,” you smile as you look up at him through your lashes, “you already know this is going on the wall.”

“T-thank you. I’m glad you like it,” he mutters as his confidence is replaced with nerves from your eyes on him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem more scattered than usual. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“It’s nothing, really, I just have a lot going on in my mind. Don’t worry about me.”

“Steven. Talk to me, you’ve been off for the last few weeks. Come, sit,” you smile softly at him to help put him at ease and pat the spot next to you.

Steve plops down on the bed a few inches away from you with a huff. He was being oddly distant and seemed anxious. While he wasn’t the most confident man in the world, he was typically a polite conversationalist or at least was one to fill awkward conversation silence. But with you, even though he was comfortable around you, he couldn’t find that same confidence.

“I’ve just been having a lot of…feelings, I guess, recently.”

You cocked your head to the side, urging him to continue. He obliged.

“I’ve been having sexual thoughts and I can’t get rid of them.”

“Oh.”

The confession shocks you for a moment. He’d never really been one to talk about anything intimate or sexual with you, always blushing whenever you’d make a sexually implied joke. He wasn’t a prude, but he wasn’t outwardly sexual with you either.

“I’m sorry, is it weird to talk about that with you? I don’t want to overstep a boundary.”

“No. It’s okay, really. Whatever thoughts or feelings you’ve been having, I’m sure they’re normal. You can keep talking if you want.” The genuine smile on your face gives Steve all the comfort he needs.

“I want to understand how it works- how it feels, even. Do you think that’s normal?”

Steve looked over at you again, expression laced with hints of curiosity and confusion.

“It is. Most people feel like that; I felt it at some point too,” you confess with a shy smile.

As soon as your approval was vocalized, a wave of relief washed over his features, “can I be honest? There’s this girl, and I want to do…certain things with her. Or to her.”

Curiosity and hints of jealousy plagued your mind. “Stevie! I didn’t know you liked someone. Do I know her?”

“I, uhm,” Steve stops his sentence short as if he’s trying to find the right words. He finally gets the confidence to speak, but all he says is “it’s you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and his gaze met yours after a few seconds. He wanted to respond, to blurt out everything he feels for you. But he couldn’t; he had never been this forward with you. He stood up, starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Oh, Steven.”

“I’ve been in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re so beautiful and sweet. You’re just so…you,” Steve confesses before pausing to glance up at you again, “Y/n, I want to do everything with you- everything for you. But all I’ve ever wanted just as much as I want you is your happiness; so, if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, and I-“

“Steve,” you smile as you place a hand in his, “I love you too.”

It takes everything in him to stop his jaw from going slack. You loved him?

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Once or twice,” he replies with furrowed brows.

“Do you wanna make it three times?”

He nodded slowly, his heart hammering out of his chest, “O-okay.”

“Don’t be nervous. Do what feels right,” you coaxed him, placing a hand on his cheek.

He took your advice and allowed his body to take over. His hands flew to your waist, fingers squeezing your sides gently as he attached his lips to yours with haste. You threw your arms around his neck and allowed a free hand to get tangled in his hair. His lips worked on yours desperately and slowly. He pulled away to catch his breath but crashed his lips against yours again only a few seconds later. You nibbled gently on his bottom lip and he pulled you closer to him, almost allowing a groan to escape his chest. His kisses grew hungrier as the realization of how badly he needed you set in.

“I want to take care of you. Will you show me how to make you feel good,” he mumbled, gasping for air against your lips. He backed you up onto the bed and held your hips down, caging you in between the soft mattress and his body.

Between his kisses and the butterflies you felt in your stomach, you couldn’t muster up a response. Instead, you chose to return the same neediness in his kisses as your way of saying yes. To have him begging you to let him learn how to please you was more than arousing. The idea was driving you crazy- he was eager to know how to make you feel good. Both of you were panting by the time he pulled away from your lips. His cheeks were tinted pink and his lips were a little swollen.

“Does it feel good if I kiss you here?” Steve inquired before placing firm, open mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you tugged gently on his soft strands. He took the hint to continue kissing down your neck, taking note of the quiet whimpers you were attempting to hide. He’d found a spot on your neck that elicited a moan from you whenever he kissed it. “Please let me hear you again, you sound so pretty,” he purred before dipping down to lick, suck, and kiss that spot again.

You tugged a little too hard on his hair at the sudden pleasure. His hips ground down onto yours instinctively, clothed cock rubbing against your core through your shorts. Steve noticed you shutter at the contact, deciding that it felt good for you when he did that- even if it was an accident. He repeated the action harder this time, now dry humping you with the perfect amount of friction. His thrusting was motivated by your moans and whimpers, only wanting to make you feel the best he could, and you were giving him exactly what he wanted with every gasp that escaped your lips.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tightened his grip on your hips and leaned down to place kisses on your lips. “There’s more you can do,” you’d managed to say in between a string of whimpers and his rough kisses, causing him to stop everything he was doing.

“Like what?” The question was rushed, it seemed as if he didn’t want to go a single second without giving you pleasure.

“You can touch me down there, do you know how?”

He shook his head, telling you to continue, “here. Let me get my shorts off and I’ll show-“

“No!”

His change in tone shocked you. The look he had on his face was telling you that it shocked him too. “I’m sorry. I meant I want to undress you- if that’s okay,” he apologizes.

“That’s okay. Go ahead.”

With that he backed off the bed, standing up to pull you towards the edge of the bed. He pulled you as close to the edge as possible that still allowed your legs to rest raised up on the bed. His hands made their way up your thighs tenderly. When he reached the waistband, he paused to look up at you for permission to keep going. You nod at him with a smile and then he’s pulling your shorts off slowly.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he cooed, helping you sit up to take your shirt off. You shrunk under his gaze, throwing your arms up to cover your chest. He frowned at this in worry that he’d made you uncomfortable. He also just wanted to see your bare form again.

“Did I do something wrong, y/n?”

“No, it’s not you. You were just…staring at me.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just not used to it.”

“Well, can I look at you again then..please?”

He once again waits for you to give him permission before moving. You suppress a giggle and give him another reassuring nod. His hands carefully move your arms to place them back at your side as he lays your body back down.

“So pretty,” Steve mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses along your chest. His hands are all over your body. Electricity courses through your body when his lips ghost over your nipple causing you to shudder- you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does. He pauses momentarily to hover his head over your chest and look up at you through his thick lashes, “what do I do?”

Your hand guides his to rest on you breast, “whatever you want. Use your mouth or your hands or-“

He cuts you off by squeezing softly at first to see your reaction; after seeing you squirm and hearing an almost whimper leave your mouth he decides to squeeze again. He squeezes harder, kneading your breast repeatedly as he pulls your other nipple into his mouth. His assault on your chest leaves you an unbearably wet and moaning mess under him. He’s quickly become addicted to your pleasure- he wants to hear you make these noises for him as often as you’ll allow him.

“God, Steve, you’re doing so good at that.”

He tries to hide the nerves he feels at your appraisal. Against his wishes he accidentally allows a whimper to fall from his lips as he pulls away from your nipple.

“You said I could touch you,” he says as he’s rubbing you through your panties. You can feel your wetness sticking to your underwear, now painfully aware of the effect he has on you. His fingers glide over your clit, “said I could touch you here. Right?”

“S-Steve,” you whimper his name softly at his touch.

“What…uhm..how do I touch you?”

“You can use your fingers, or your mouth. Or just do whatever comes natural to you,” you say in attempts to reassure him. However it only earns you a confused look from him. “Do you need me to show you?”

Contentment washes over his face and he nods hurriedly. It’s not that he wants to frustrate you or delay your pleasure but he does want to make sure he’s doing everything right.

“You can start by rubbing softly on my clit. Do you remember the spot you brushed just a second ago?”

“Mhm, the one that made you whimper?”

“Y-yeah, that spot,” you reply softly, taken aback by his newly found confidence, “you could start at my, uhm, entrance too. You can just tease me or put your fingers inside me if I’m wet enough.”

“Wet enough?” Steve questions with furrowed brows.

“When a woman gets, you know, turned on…she gets wet down there to make it less painful during sex. Do you understand now?”

“Oh,” he smiles at you innocently, the pieces seeming to click together, “I understand.”

He moves quickly to pull your panties down your legs. You squeak at the sudden motion and lift your hips up to make it easier for him to pull the fabric off. When he’s gotten your panties off, he lays you back down. He’s got you completely naked in front of him with your legs propped up and thighs spread apart by his strong hands.

“Woah,” he mumbles under his breath- the sight and smell of you intoxicating him. His eyes land on your dripping cunt right in front of him, and, if he didn’t before, he definitely understands what you meant now.

“You are wet. So, so wet. Did I do this?” Steve’s eyes contain nothing but adoration and curiosity as he ghosts his fingertips over your swollen clit. His gaze is glued to you, watching you shiver at his gentle touches.

“Steve, please,” you plead with a voice hardly above a whisper.

“S’not gonna hurt you. You’re..wet enough?”

“Yes, yes I’m wet enough. Please, do something.”

“How do I-“

You cut him off, feeling yourself grow needier, “Steven. Like I showed you earlier. Do anything. Just, please, touch me.”

“Hm, no more questions, got it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be firm with you.“

“I said I’ve got it,” he purred, pressing two fingers to your aching bud.

Your mewled under him as his touch sent heat to your core. Soft fingers circled your most sensitive spot. His name began to roll off your tongue repeatedly. Then his fingers slid from your entrance all the up to your clit to gather your wetness on his fingers and he eased in two fingers. He slowly stretched you out, pumping the digits in and out.

“Oh, honey, you’re so pretty,” he said in awe; the sight of you was making his heart beat out of his chest.

Steve moved his fingers in different ways while sliding them in and out of you. He’d paid special attention to the way your back arched a little and you made the most delicious sound when his fingers curled upwards inside of you. So he kept doing that, softly hitting your g-spot while gliding his fingers out of you. You pout at him when he pulled them out completely.

“Just give me a minute. Okay?”

He brought his fingers to his lips and paused before placing them in his mouth to suck them clean. A smile spread across his face, bringing his fingers down to get them wet again. He brings his coated middle and pointer finger to your lips this time and urges you to open your mouth.

“Steve,” you whine.

“You taste good, want you to know how good you taste,” he says with that same innocent smile.

Your lips part, allowing him to place his fingers on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around them and Steve bites back another whimper. He pulls his fingers from your mouth once they’re clean then leans down to place a needy kiss to your lips, tongues swirling together in your mouth. It takes all of him to pull away from you, murmuring “I have to taste more of you,” when he finally does.

He places himself so his face is only inches away from your cunt. He’s not sure why but he can smell your arousal. While your scent is intoxicating, your taste is even more so. His lips place gentle kisses up and down your slit. He drags his tongue between your folds painfully slowly, lapping your juices up with his tongue. You try to buck your hips up into his mouth but he shuts you down and holds your hips in place. A cry comes out when he starts to suck relentlessly on your clit; your back arches as much as his tight hold will allow. He’s eating your soaked pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days- like you’re his last meal. Your moans are music to his ears, he relishes in them.

“S-Steve, you’re so good at that. Fuck,” you whimper and tug at his soft hair.

He hums against your clit to let you know he heard you but all you can focus on is the vibration it sent to your sensitive bud. His tongue goes down to your opening to slide inside of effortlessly. He’s swirling his tongue inside of you, occasionally sliding it in and out. You coat his tongue with your wetness. Your moans have him desperate to hear more, so he goes harder and faster, his tongue roughly exploring your cunt.

“Shit. Fuck, Stevie, ‘m close. You’re doin’ so good,” you praise him as he continues licking and sucking.

Steve represses the urge to ask what you mean by close by choosing to slide a finger into you and suck on your clit. The tension in your stomach builds overwhelmingly fast. He increases his speed when a string of ‘Steve’ and ‘fuck’ falls mindlessly from your lips. That tension overflows as his tongue flicks your clit while he’s sucking on it. Your orgasm shakes your body but Steve doesn’t stop. After a few seconds it becomes overstimulating and you attempt to push his head away from you.

“Hold on,” he mutters, sliding his finger out. His tongue laps at your folds again causing you to squeal, the overstimulation making you giggle. “I’m sorry, you just taste so sweet. Are you okay?”

“I’m alright. You did really good.”

“Thank you..”

His eyes dart around the room nervously before landing on you. The corners of his lips turn up into a smile after he wipes his mouth dry with his hand. You return the smile as a means to comfort him and ease his nerves.

“Will you let me do something for you?”

“Oh… You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to please you,” he mumbles.

“Take your clothes off,“ you say with a smile still on your face.

He freezes for a second but then he stands to undress. You sit up as he slides his shirt and pants off, leaving his boxers for last. His thick, long cock springs up against his toned stomach when his boxers slide down his legs. It takes everything in you not to pounce on him right then.

“You wanna sit? Might be less overwhelming if you do.”

He hums his approval and sits next to you. After peppering kisses on his face and planting a few pecks to his lips, you slide off the bed and onto your knees between his legs.

“If you don’t like anything I do, tell me. I want you to be comfortable,” you say while taking his length in your hand.

The whimper that comes from him from just the smallest touch turns you on an unbelievable amount.

“Don’t think I’d dislike anything you could do to me,” Steve replies, voice almost faltering when you stroke him for the first time.

Your hand is soft and tight around his cock. He’d done this with his own hand a few times when he’d been too pent up, but it was nothing compared to when you did it. With perfect speed you pumped him in your hand. Occasionally your stroking would stop so you could glide a finger around his tip. His body shivers when you lick his shaft from the base to the tip. Then you slide as much of him as possible into your mouth; your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed out as you suck on him. His hand tangles in your hair and tugs gently. Steve almost comes undone when your hand strokes the bottom of his cock that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

“O-oh my god,” he groans, the sensation almost too much for him. His hips bucked upwards in attempt to shove his cock deeper into your mouth, “y/n, baby, wait,” he stuttered.

You pull off of him quickly in worry that you’d overstimulated him. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m..uhm…close. But I don’t want to be done yet,” he says with a frown, “feels too good and I want to make you finish again.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweet boy. It’s your first time.”

“But it makes me feel good to take care of you,” he cooed before taking your hand and leading you on top of him, your bare core resting on his throbbing cock.

He pulls your head down so your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. Instinctively your hips roll against his. His lips on yours, tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth, and feeling of his length rubbing against your clit was delicious. He slides between your folds, his tip occasionally teasing your entrance when you move a certain way.

“Want you, Stevie,” your whimper against his lips when he pulls away.

“You have me, sweetheart.”

That same innocent smile he’s flashed many times tonight tells you that he doesn’t understand what you meant. Steven wasn’t dumb by any means, he just wasn’t experienced; you made him nervous too.

“I know. But right now I want you inside of me, if that makes sense.”

Realization shows on his features, brows furrowing only for a moment. “It does,” he declares after a few seconds.

You smile before crawling towards the center of the bed and laying on your back. He waits for you to get comfortable before positioning himself between your legs.

“I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“It’s like earlier, remember? It won’t hurt if I’m wet enough.”

He then dips his fingers down to gently run them through your folds. Steve frowns when he feels that you’re not dripping as you were earlier, “did I do something wrong, Honey? You’re not as wet.”

“It’s nothing you did, I promise. Sometimes you don’t stay wet if you’re not being pleasured or touched.”

As dramatic as it seems, his heart drops. He wasn’t making you feel good the whole time? Did you not enjoy pleasuring him?

“I wasn’t making you feel good?”

“No! You were. It’s just that while I was going down on you, you weren’t touching me, so I just didn’t stay wet. You cleaned me up with your mouth beforehand pretty well too.”

He ponders and almost gets lost in the thought of how his tongue felt buried deep in your warm cunt. “Right. Well I’m going to take care of you every second from now on. I have to make my baby feel good.” He grins as he plants a kiss on your nose.

His tone makes you giggle, the surge of confidence not matching his delivery. “Where’d that come from?”

“It was a poor attempt to be more assertive, you seem to like that.”

You look around the room, trying to avoid his gaze. His observation wasn’t something you expected him to notice. How silly of you to think he wouldn’t notice something about you.

“You do, don’t you? Is that why you didn’t stay wet for me? You like to be handled rough and I’m too innocent for you?” Steve’s questions bore into you and you struggle to conjure up an answer. “Look at me,” he demands, fingers carefully pulling your chin to the side to make you face him, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t say anything but my name.”

Before you can respond he rubs his tip up your warmth. He has to bite his lip when he slides into you to prevent himself from making any noise. His body stills when his cock bottoms out inside of you.

“O-oh,” he sighs softly, “y/n, fuck.”

Once he sees that you’re not hurting he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. You feel so warm and soft on him and he has to prevent the urge to pound into you relentlessly. He thrusts into you slowly, trying to keep some sort of rhythm but faltering due to the new sensation.

“You’re so… So fuckin’ tight, shit. You feel so good around me, angel.”

After a few seconds he’s able to hold a decent pace. The tip of his cock brushes your g-spot and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“No,” he pulls your face away from him, “want to hear you.”

A whine falls from your parted lips. You feel him throb inside of you and Steve, once again, has to hold himself back when he feels your walls clench around him again. Now it’s become obvious that he’s holding back. His body is tense and his movements are becoming less in sync.

“Steve.”

He ignores you, continuing to fuck into you while placing kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“Steven, stop.”

His motions stop immediately and his eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of distress or pain. When he doesn’t see any, he tilts his head in confusion, “doll? Is everything okay?”

“You tell me,” you press a kiss to his lips before grinding down on him to keep him hard, eliciting a whimper from him, “you’re holding back, Steve. You don’t have to do that with me. You’re not gonna break me”

He ponders for a moment before looking at you again, “are you sure..? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going based off instinct but all I want to do is fuck you into this mattress and-“

Your lips attached to his, roughly moving against them, and he melts into the kiss. Slowly he begins to thrust into you again. This time his movements are rougher and harder. His hips start to buck up into you faster, pressure building in your stomach. It only takes about a minute before he’s pounding into you. His pace is unforgiving and you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Your fingernails rake his back, probably leaving bright red scratches, and his disgruntled groans and grunts are only muffled by his lips occasionally attaching to yours.

“You take me so well,” he gasps upon feeling you tighten around him yet again. Reaching a hand down to rub your clit he locks eyes with you, “s’like your tight cunt was made for me, honey.”

His tip hits that same spot again, repeatedly rubbing it. Your body jerks, your back arching off the bed.

"Want me to keep fucking you like this? Am I making you feel good now?" he taunts.

You don’t even manage to get a word out because as soon as he takes note of how to make his cock pound into your g-spot, he does it. You can feel him smirk against your neck before sucking on your collarbone. As if it was possible, his speed increases. A tight knot forms and he presses down to run his thumb over your clit. He leans down to place a rough kiss to your lips, tongue running over your bottom lip begging for entry. You allow it and your tongues tangle together in a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you abruptly.

“Stevie,” you whine at the loss of contact.

“Get on top of me,” he demands as he lays beside you.

You look at him in confusion at his change demeanor, “but don’t you want to-“

“I wanna see all of you when you come undone on my cock, baby.”

You hesitate for a minute before obeying his wishes. Your legs straddle him, his length prodding your entrance. His hands grip your waist and guide you down onto him. The feeling of his thickness reentering you has you reeling. Steve’s mouth hangs agape momentarily when you’re sat all the way down, a deep grunt forcing it’s way out of him. He uses his grip on your waist to move you around on his shaft- you’re not sure you could’ve moved otherwise anyways.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispers repeatedly like it’s a prayer in between kisses he presses all over your chest.

“I-I love you too. You’re doing so well, making me feel s’good, Stevie,” you coo as you place a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel like..like I’m gonna…,” Steve struggles to piece the words together as you meet his hips, thrusting with him in sync.

“You can cum inside of me. It’s okay. You can let go.”

With your permission, he does just that. Spurts of his hot seed fill your swollen cunt. He throbs inside of you as he empties himself out. He feels you slow down to eventually stop riding him.

“Don’t stop, you’re gonna finish too,” he says through gritted teeth.

His first time and he’s worried about your pleasure too. He’s overworking himself through his first shared orgasm but only focuses on how he can keep making you feel good.

“Steven, stop. You don’t have to keep going.”

Before you could say anything else, he pulls your upper half towards him, careful not to mess up the rhythm at which he was fucking you. His mouth sucks one of your nipples in. His tongue swirls around it, sucking and licking the hardened peace. Then his free hand dips down to rub circles onto your sensitive clit. You whimper and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull on it. You curse under your breath at the overstimulation, feeling your orgasm approach quickly.

“Come on, baby. I know you have another in you,” he urges.

He comes back up to place a rough kiss against your lips while he pounds into you, keeping the same speed and pressure on your clit. The mix of pleasure he was giving you sends you over the edge. You ride out your high while still bouncing slowly on him as he continued to thrust. He watches your face closely so he doesn’t miss a single expression. Steve pulls out slowly but immediately when he hears your almost pained whimpers.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs.

His hand is brushing your hair back and his lips are peppering soft pecks all over your face. He pulls you off of him to lay you down next to him. Your head rests on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He covers both of you with a spare fluffy blanket he keeps at the end of the bed. You feel warm and comfortable, the contentment of being satisfied was setting in.

“Are you comfortable?”

You frown upon hearing his question, “I’m okay. It was your first time and I didn’t help a lot, are you okay?”

“Oh, honey,” he smiles softly, “I’m more than okay. Thank you for showing me how to make you feel good. I love you, y/n, and I really mean that.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

“You should get some rest. I’m gonna want more of you tomorrow,” you giggle, burying your face in his neck.

He holds you close with a protective arm thrown over you. He sighs to himself in exhaustion.

“My best girl,” he mumbles into your hair, “all mine.”

The pair of you fall asleep a few minutes later. He’s got you held close to him, right where you belong. You’ve had him and now he finally got you all to himself.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Based on the time Clown answered someone’s question of what Wally’s favourite sound was and said it was us. 🦦 plz standby as I cry at how cute that is-

Also gif credit: @cinderbutt

Wally love, love, loves the sound of your voice.

Even if he so happened to not be in the same room as you at the time, as long as he could hear your voice, everything was a-okay.

It’s a sound of soothing reassurance for the little guy, something that reminds him of your permanence in his life and he couldn’t be more grateful.

I genuinely don’t think he cares about how your voice sounds because at the end of the day, it’s your voice! It’s unique, amazing, and so special to Wally because it helps him identify you.

If Wally was allowed a moment to be honest, he’d admits to believing that he wouldn’t be able to find a better sound to favour above all else then your voice.

If there was an instance where you were brought up to be ashamed of your voice, going so far as to not speak as much of you could help it, but when Wally catches wind of this he’d be like;

‘Insecure of your voice? But why? It’s my favourite sound to hear in the morning as it’s rough with the lack of use, or even as your reading a book aloud to yourself and how it would instinctively become higher or lower octave depending on how your were reacting towards what was happening in the story; whether it be happy or sad.’

‘Even when you felt impassioned about something you truly cared about or just recently found interest in, your voice becomes more powerful and full of life that it becomes infectious and awe inspiring. It’s a truly unique voice to you and despite how you think about it, I would rather hear you speak about your hobbies, about your day, about anything and everything because your voice truly is one of a kind and I wouldn’t wish it to sound any differently because to me, it’s perfect as it is.’

Wally’s dead serious when he says all this, so don’t be mistaken because this three foot puppet truly does adore your voice to an almost unhealthy amount.

He’s hooked onto your every word as though it’s gospel even if your talking about a time where you were getting the mail.

Wally. Is. Hooked. He wants to hear the story to it’s end.

The little guy pouts when you’re interrupted but encourages you to start from the beginning should you forget where you left off. Just gives him an excuse to listen to your voice for even longer.

I’d like to think he’s a little gossiping shit and would be down to hearing the most recent gossip with you, should you have the full context on the situation. Wally’s already sat on your lap ready and waiting.

You: The FitnessGram Pacer test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it-

Wally: 🥰😍

[neiptune]

no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you

cw: 1.4k wc, mentions of alcohol, painful breakup, hurt no comfort, reader is a writer, you call levi in the middle of the night and the last thing you expect is for him to pick up

You don’t expect him to pick up.

Levi is always busy: when he’s not working he’s at the gym, tidying up his apartment or entertaining a surprisingly large social circle one wouldn’t expect someone as quiet as him to have.

Levi has hobbies. He enjoys going to the movies, visiting exhibitions, experimenting in the kitchen with western recipes.

Levi is also usually asleep at 1 am, the man has quite the regular routine and tries to be in bed by no later than midnight because, of course, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn.

But he picks up and suddenly the glasses of wine shared with your friends, the joy of a night out still lingering in your throat like magical golden bubbles, weighs heavy on your chest. He wasn’t supposed to pick up.

“Hey” his voice is gravelly but no as in I-was-almost-asleep-you-asshole-what-could-you-possibly-want. It reminds you of all the times you two have laughed until tears streamed down your cheeks, those incredibly rare moments where you could bribe him with your silly humor and stupid videos, knowing looks, exasperated smile. His voice used to always get so husky after laughing for so long, almost a protest of throat muscles not used to the foreign action.

“Hi” you swallow what feels like a lump of ashes “sorry, it’s kinda late. I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping. I’m actually at the bar with some friends”

You hear the music, the voices, the clinking of glasses.

Well, that’s new.

“Wow” you fail to suppress a tiny, amused smile.

“I know, right?” when you don’t say anything back, he clears his throat “how are you?”

“Good” the reply is automatic, you’re kinda on autopilot and being tipsy makes the entire situation just weird, unexpected, instead of painfully embarrassing “um, what about you?”

“I’m okay. Currently putting myself out there”

“Like I always told you to?”

He smiles a little at that but you can’t see it and it’s been too long to guess the stretch of his lips by his voice only.

“Like you always told me to”

“I don’t want to keep you”

“No, it’s fine” Levi inhales and waves back at one of his friends sitting at the table with everyone else while he lingers by the counter “I’m waiting for my beer. Erwin’s here, he’d probably want me to say hello on his behalf”

You ache for another little piece that has been taken out of your life for good the afternoon Levi broke up with you. His family and his hobbies and his routine and his friends. They all used to be a little yours, too.

“Tell him I said hi”

His gaze fixates on a tiny stain on the counter and as he starts absentmindedly scraping the surface with one nail, the words come out on their own accord.

“It’s nice to hear from you, by the way. I thought about calling but I didn’t want to make it weird or uncomfortable”

You melt against the comfort of your pillows, wishing the couch could absorb the sudden exhaustion consuming your cardiac muscles. Fuck, it still hurts. Who would’ve guessed? Five months of going out with your friends, drinking, dancing with strangers, downloading dating apps only to delete them again. It’s never enough. How could it be? Can five months fix a shattered heart that hurts as much as crushed bones? He’s pulled you apart and you still can’t quite remember which piece is supposed to go where. Five months are definitely not enough.

“For me, you mean” it comes out bitter, borderline resentful, and Levi sighs. He sighs. It makes you clench your fist.

“Don’t be like that”

“I’m not being like anything”

“Well, it’s not what I meant. But I know you need something to be mad at, you always do” he retorts.

You sit up straight at that, a jolt of electricity running across your spine. The skin of your forearms starts tingling.

Fuck. You.

“Levi” you’re a fucking asshole fuck you fuck you fuck you for leaving me fuck you for making me fall in love with you “seriously?”

“I’m sorry” he says and he actually means it, tone so sincere it plants a scorching fire poker right through your chest “sorry. That was shitty”

“It’s fine”

No point in fighting anyway, you want to add. Isn’t that what caused everything to go to shit in the first place? Arguments, bitter retorts, stupid quarrels and frustration building up over the silliest things.

I’m too tired for this.

I literally just got back from the office, can you give me a fucking break?

Levi, is it really so hard to wash your goddamn mug in the morning before leaving?

I don’t want to go out tonight.

I have plans with my friends, actually.

Shit, I forgot. Was it today?

It’s okay. No worries.

I’m not sure.

I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.

It’s fine.

“How’s your family?” he conveniently changes the subject with evergreen smoothness. You shut your eyes.

“They’re fine” my mom misses you “dad is going to buy that kawasaki ninja, I think”

“Are you kidding?” his chuckle startles you and the room suddenly feels like a ship, couch and pavement and walls and paintings undulating dangerously “wow, that’s some dedication”

“Yeah, he’s pretty excited. Are things in the office alright? Is that intern of yours, Armin, still there?”

“I hired him, actually. Pretty good catch”

Pieces that were taken, new pieces adding up to his life without you being aware in the slightest. It’s none of your business anymore.

“That’s great, Levi” it’s redundant, really, repeating his name so many times. But you can’t remember the last time you said it out loud and it still tastes perfect on your tongue, weighs exactly the correct amount.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Ah. I’m kinda in a slump right now”

“Not the first time. You’ll bounce back, can’t wait to look for your next masterpiece in the thrillers and crime section” now you hear the smile and your eyes are suddenly wet.

“I miss you” it comes out before you can stop it, before you can think. He used to find your inebriated state adorable, funny, attractive even. He used to buy expensive red wine you’d share on your couch and cool fingers would sneak underneath your shirts and jeans and his laugh would fill the air like a perfect melody as his lips were softly pressed to your neck.

“God. Guess that’s a weird thing to say. Did I make this weird?”

“No” his voice is kind and dripping with sympathy, which makes your insides churn with sudden pangs of the worst nausea “I miss you too. We were pretty special”

Oh, Levi. Always so gentle at breaking your heart. Never too rough, yet careful enough to paint some very well needed permanent, conclusive hue over three years. You wish it could’ve been just as easy for you.

“Right” then why did you go? “breakups suck”

The childishness of what you just said makes you giggle.

“They really do” he indulges “it’s been a while but you know, right? I’ll always care about you”

It really hasn't been a while for you. His absence painfully throbs along the margins of your days, the spot he used to take in your life and your couch and your kitchen now filled with devastating emptiness.

“I really loved you” Levi adds softly and it’s a concession. You’re grateful.

“I really loved you, too” I would still cross oceans and climb mountains to get to you “have fun, yeah? I mean, be happy. Find whatever it was I couldn’t give you” when did you start crying? You hope he can’t hear it in how oddly your voice is quivering.

Levi sighs again, quietly. You gave me plenty, you gave me everything. He wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, that you don’t have anything to blame yourself for. But he knows it’s gonna sound terrible, condescending and disgusting. He knows you’ll heal on your terms, it’s not his place to interfere anymore.

“Thank you for calling” he murmurs and the line goes silent for a second too long, has him shortly wondering if you’re already gone.

“Yeah. Sure, um. Goodnight, Levi” you hang up immediately because you know he’s already guessed the wetness of your cheeks and is probably imagining the redness of your eyes.

He stares at the screen, your name hasn’t blinked back at him in a while. It gives him comfort. But then his beer is getting warm and his friends are calling for him and the phone is shoved back into his pocket and the night has only just begun.

[alittlebitofsainz]

me (and you) and my guitar

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: just a little drabble; you’re shy about playing guitar around other people, but charles desperately wants to hear your hidden talent

masterlist

“I didn’t know that you play the guitar?”

your cheeks immediately flushed red, instinctively trying to hide the instrument behind your back, a task you didn’t really achieve considering the instrument in question was a guitar roughly half your height. you glanced away, not meeting charles’ eyes, feeling his curious gaze flitting between you and the fret of your guitar peeking out from behind your back.

“I don’t. well, not really.” came your reply, words bordered by a nervous chuckle. charles was unconvinced, raising an eyebrow, but your response was only half untrue. you didn’t play guitar, as far as most of the world was concerned; you didn’t play in front of other people, preferring to keep your favourite hobby to yourself. this was the first time someone had stumbled across you, hiding in a corner of the ferrari motorhome, trying to while away the minutes that were threatening to turn into an hour. the rain wasn’t letting up, and the race didn’t look like it would resume any time soon. charles didn’t seem to think so either, judging by the way his fireproofs were hanging round his hips, and by the way he was hanging around the back of the garage instead of discussing data with his engineers. there’s only so much you can talk about, he once told you when you’d asked him about it.

“you won’t keep playing?” he asked, the wounded expression on his face worming its way into your heart, even if you knew it was mostly playful, “not even for me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his fake pout, bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows curving upwards to give you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t say no to. or, rather, he hoped you wouldn’t say no to. you had a tendency to be stubborn from time to time. and this? this was one of those times.

“sorry, charles.” you shook your head, even as he blinked imploringly at you. but his expression changed after a moment, an expression that always worried you. charles leclerc was coming up with a plan.

“if I play first for you, will you play for me after?”

it was tempting, you had to admit. there was a time, a few months ago now, that charles had been obsessed with learning guitar, could barely be pictured without one attached to his back. you’d always known he’d been musical, something you’d bonded over. but then he’d picked piano back up, and guitar seemed to have fallen by the wayside. charles had that personality where he liked to be good at things. so you’d dropped it, never asked him about it, despite your curiosity. so this offer? and combined with the pleading look in his eyes? well, how could you refuse?

his face lit up when you agreed, reaching for the guitar with an outstretched hand. he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder, weighing up the instrument in his hands, fingers finding their way over the fret. okay, so the chord changes were a little clumsy, his fingers, clearly made for piano, fumbling a little over the barred notes. but there was an undeniable musicality to it, an underlying reminder that charles had a good ear and pure rhythm, no matter what he turned his hand to. you rewarded his piece with a quiet round of applause and a broad, genuine smile.

“you ought to practice more!” your tone was enthusiastic, but charles tilted his head with a confused expression, clearly expecting something a little more… complimentary. you quickly backtracked, shaking your head,

“no, I mean-“ you stumbled a little, becoming tongue tied in your attempt to reassure him you meant it positively, “I mean you’re a natural, charles, really. if you really worked at it, you could be incredible; as good as you are at piano.”

his expression changed, understanding, and he flashed you a rueful smile.

“if only I had the time.” he replied softly, his words carrying a hint of wistfulness. you hummed in reply, a soft sign escaping you.

“yeah, fair enough.” you agreed quietly.

but charles wasn’t going to forget your end of the bargain in a hurry.

“a deal’s a deal. your turn.” he handed the guitar over to your reluctant hands, an expectant grin spreading across his face. it was rare you saw him get this excited over anything that wasn’t a podium finish or a puppy; it almost felt like an honour.

“okay, fine.” you replied in a way that let him know that you really didn’t want to do this.

he sat there, enraptured, eyes alternating between following the way your fingers danced across the strings and being glued to your face, your expression concentrated yet relaxed at the same time. when you finally finished, he sat there for a moment, quiet, as if processing the last couple of minutes. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, shifting the guitar off your lap and propping it up beside you.

“thank you.”

“yeah, like I said, I’m really not that good, and- wait, what did you say?”

you paused as his words overlapped yours, both speaking at the same time.

“I said thank you.” he repeated, quieter this time, as if almost embarrassed by the words. “I mean, for letting me listen to you play. you’re really good.”

you opened your mouth to disagree, but charles cut you off with a shake of his head.

“and don’t say you’re not.” he told you with a warning glance. you chuckled; he knew you too well. he paused for a moment, his gaze wandering across the garage to focus on the rain still falling on the tarmac outside. he had that look on his face again. his thinking look.

“could you teach me?”

he said suddenly, and not for the first time today, you had to ask him to repeat himself so you could make sure you’d heard him right.

“I mean, I don’t have time for formal lessons or anything like that, but moments like these…” he turned to face you, gesturing vaguely around the garage, “the little moments in between races. sometimes… well, let’s say it would be nice to think about something other than driving for just a few minutes.”

when he put it like that, how could you say no?

“I’m not exactly a qualified teacher.” you tried to protest, but it was a losing battle.

“you seem good enough to me.” came his reply, as if he’d lined it up, already anticipating your argument. “I don’t need to have a perfect technique. I just want to be able to play every now and again. like you.”

you ducked your head to try and hide the blush creeping up into your cheeks, feigning the need to tune a string on your guitar. the rain was starting to ease outside: the race would begin soon.

“okay. you’ve got a deal.”

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A song of Ice & Shadow

Part 2

You can read part one here.

Summary: To Y/n's dismay, the Illyrians keep coming to their home, and despite her initial reluctance to engage in war talks, she becomes entangled in the political world of the fae. This ends with her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

Word count: 2.9K

Y/n paced around the living room, holding a scientific book amidst a clutter of research papers scattered about. Deeply immersed in her work, she was oblivious to the initial knocks at the door. Eventually, the persistent knocking caught her attention, prompting her to reluctantly abandon her studies.Upon opening the door, however, she found no one present “Are you kidding me?” she exhaled, as she went back to the living room. Just as she got back to reading, Cassian’s voice interrupted her concentration “Hello, y/n. Nice to see you again”.

“For fuck’s sake” she instinctively threw the book in his direction, a reflex action to the sudden intrusion, which he effortlessly evaded. Cassian’s amusement at the gesture was evident as he remarked “A book, really?”.

“Well, when someone is startled by an unexpected visitor, instinct tends to take over” she retorted, her tone a mixture of irritation and explanation.

“I did knock” he reminded, to which she replied “and I did open the door”.

“Wait, you didn’t know I was cloaked?”.

“How would I know? Do I look like some fae expert to you?”.

“Clearly not”.

“Do you enjoy pissing people off?” she asked with a serious tone.

“Sometimes” he replied, his tone tinged with smugness.

“Get a new hobby. People have more important things to do”.

“We’re trying to save everyone, so I’d say that is important”.

“Whatever! I’m not dealing with you. Talk to Nesta. Do you know where her room is or do I have to guide you?”.

“I’ll do just fine on my own”.

“Great, then off you go” she pushed him out of the living room and closed the door.

—

“You wouldn’t believe who I just met at the Bakery, Nes-” Y/n began speaking as she entered the house, unaware of the company they had. Her smile faded when she noticed the two Illyrian males, replaced by a cold, stern expression.“to what do we owe this displeasure?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

Cassian's response mirrored her sentiment, expressing his own reluctance to be there. Before any further exchange could unfold, Azriel interjected with a low, cold voice, revealing the reason for their visit “We received word from the queens”.

“They’ve been sent here to gather information about the house for the queens. They want to know where everything is, in the smallest details” Nesta explained.

Y/n directed her question at her sister “And you believe providing all this information is a good idea?”.

Azriel interjected, 'It's the only way to secure their cooperation”, Nesta nodded.

Y/n stole a glance at the male before returning her gaze on her sister “you do know this puts us in real danger?”.

"Nothing will happen to you or your sisters. Cassian and I will keep watch on the house”.

Despite assurances from Azriel about their safety, Y/n remained unconvinced, her concern evident in her demeanor. Y/n seemed to want to say something but decided against it. As she turned to leave, she was halted by Azriel's words “Feyre expects you to be here tomorrow”. After a brief pause, Y/n tilted her head to the side “Tell her to lower her expectations” she replied before walking out.

—

“Perhaps you should attend, even if just for a little while” Nesta suggested.

“Why? Are two sisters not enough? I don’t wish to be involved in human-fae relations” Y/n clarified.

“I know. I hate this as much as you do, but Feyre is now one of them, so do it for her” Nesta urged.

“Not out of her own free will…I- I don’t know, I’ll think about it” she sighed.

“Not to pressure you or anything but you do know, they’ll be here in a couple of hours” Nesta reminded.

“I know” she shrugged.

“Where is she? They’re gonna be here any minute now” Feyre scanned the room anxiously, looking for Y/n.

“I don’t know. She said she’ll think about it” Nesta told her.

“Think about it? She does realize that this is important, not one of her games” Feyre’s frustration became evident.

“Do you want me to send Az or Cassian to fetch her?” Rhys offered.

“No, that would only make things worse” Feyre dismissed the suggestion.

Dressed in a midnight blue tulle gown that revealed her back and arms, her skin so pale one would think she’s frozen. The fabric flowed around her body like a cloud, complementing her features. She emanated an aura of grace and elegance that would captivate any male who laid eyes on her. Y/n walked into the room, head held high. Her presence seemed to illuminate the room, and much to Azriel’s dismay, his eyes were drawn to her. Something stirred inside of him, something unfamiliar; even his shadows peaked from behind him to study her. He was betrayed by a momentary lapse in composure before pushing his thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“She’d fit right in at the Night Court” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Is that why it took you so long?” Feyre asked her sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Y/n tried to hide her smile.

Just as Cassian was about to comment, the queens appeared.

Rhys and Feyre started the conversation with the queens, introducing everyone present in the room. Elain curtseyed, while Nesta and Y/n stayed straight-backed with their heads high. They wasted no time and got to the reason why they were there; to discuss the war looming on their doorstep. -”This territory is a slip of land compared to the vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of resources” one of the queens said, to which Rhys replied “surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent”.

“Yes. to lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it”.

“And here I thought fae kind was the worst. It seems there’s even worse. You’re shameless. As queens, you have a responsibility towards your people. You’re supposed to protect them, all of them. The war hasn’t even started and you’re already doing a bad job of it” Y/n blurted.

“Excuse me?” the queen was taken aback, but so was everyone sitting there.

“Y/n!” Feyre warned.

“What? Is it not your duty to defend your people?” Y/n didn’t back down.

“What my sister is trying to say is that there are good people here” Feyre spoke, before things escalated.

The queens suggested that the fae defend this little territory, but there were counter arguments to that, until the queens mentioned that it was their job since the threat is caused by their own kind and their blood should be the one to spill, to which Y/n didn’t disagree. But then the queens continued to be insensitive, stubborn, selfish creatures, refusing to listen to reason. This made Y/n feel rage; knowing her temper, she excused herself before she screwed up whatever chance of peace they had. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the queens asked.

“Away from here. I am afraid if I stayed, I’d hurt your ego and you’d leave without considering peace, so I am removing myself, respectfully” she bowed mockingly, and a soft smile graced Azriel’s face. 

—

Satisfied with the research she had done, Y/n was able to take a day to relax when a knock interrupted her solitude. She waited a few minutes before reaching the door, silently hoping that someone else would answer it for once “You’d think with many people living in this house, someone else would get the door for once” she sighed as she opened the door, only to find no one there “Ah, I suppose you’re glamoured again. The servants are here today and Nesta isn’t, so unfortunately, we have to go to a more private place. Follow me” she muttered to herself, pausing briefly before shutting the door and retreating upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her “what can I help with today, general?” she turned around to face Cassian, whom by now his cloaking would’ve vanished, but she was met with the other illyrian. Taken aback, she took a step back “you’re not the general”.

“No, I’m not. Nice to see you again” Azriel hid a chuckle.

“I’m sure” Y/n managed to force a polite smile, unaware she was holding her breath.

Noticing her sudden reaction at the sight of him, Azriel inquired “Are you alright?”.

“I’m fine. So, what can I do for you?” She wasted no time asking, not wanting to be distracted by those beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m here to check if you’ve received a response from the queens”.

“Aren’t you the court’s spymaster? Wouldn’t you know if we had received a letter?” Y/n questioned.

“My spies are positioned in courts, not among mere humans. Besides, I didn’t think you’d appreciate being spied upon. But, I do have other methods to obtain information”.

“Like torture?” she crossed her arms.

“That too”.

“Are you threatening me?” she took a step towards him, but he stood his ground.

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion. I simply answered your question. Violence is not always the solution” he replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“But it’s often the most effective, wouldn’t you agree?” she smirked, meeting his gaze as his shadows appeared behind her.

“It depends” he held her gaze. For a moment they stood in silence before she finally spoke “to answer your question, no, they did not send word back. I suppose that concludes our meeting”.

“Are you kicking me out” he snorted.

“No, I’m simply stating the fact that you’ve gotten what you came here for, hence, there’s nothing left for you here anymore, or am I mistaken?” she shrugged.

He contemplated for a moment “no, you are absolutely right. I’ll be on my way. Have a nice day” he said, striding towards the window.

“What-? You’re leaving through the window?” she was taken by surprise.

“I have wings, it’s faster” he explained.

“Right, then. Goodbye” she muttered to herself as he left, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding “What the hell was that?” she thought to herself.

The next time they came to meet with the queens, Azriel surveyed the house, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen “your sister won’t be joining us?” he asked Elain.

“No, she went to her other home. Something happened at work” Elain replied.

“And even if she were here, she wouldn’t want to see those self-absorbed queens” Nesta added.

“Oh, I see” Azriel nodded, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved she wasn’t there.

The meeting did not go as well as they had hoped, but it was not a complete disaster either. Rhys offered Nesta and Elain to come live with them in Velaris, but Elain refused, as she was engaged to a fae-hating prick. So, Rhys sent his soldiers to look after them, with one waiting in the room they frequented everyday at noon and midnight in case they changed their minds.

—

Elain and Azriel were talking, when Y/n entered the living room. By now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to the presence of fae in their house, but she still resented it, especially now with fae soldiers guarding them. When Y/n returned, Nesta informed her of everything that happened while she was gone, which naturally annoyed her.

“You’re back” that was her way of greeting Azriel.

“I could say the same to you” he replied, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Noticing her expression, Azriel proceeded “you were missed at the meeting with the queens”.

“I doubt ‘missed’ is the word anyone would use, but I’m actually glad I wasn’t there. I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold back. Why are you here, spymaster?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Y/n” Elain interjected at her sister’s ‘rudeness’.

“Same reason as last time” he answered.

“Did you not get the information yet?” Y/n avoided meeting his eyes.

“I did-”.

“We were having a civil conversation. You should try it some time” Elain muttered.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll stick to my ‘uncivil’ ways” Y/n said, ignoring Azriel once again as she walked out of the room.

“Forgive my sister. She can be rude sometimes, not that she notices often. But she has a kind heart, I promise” Elain tried to defend her sister’s actions.

“Don’t worry about it” he gave Elain a soft smile.

—

The next time Y/n was in the same room as Azriel was when they were face to face with the king of Hybern. She and her sisters were dragged and forced to kneel before the king. Nesta and Elain were in their nightgowns, while Y/n was in a teal dress. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood. Bruises painted her skin in shades of blue and purple, her lips swollen and cut, which oozed blood, same with the cut on her forehead. Her hair tousled, strands escaping from a once-neat bun. Despite her injuries, she stood tall, her posture defiant and unyielding, with a determined glint in her eyes; her spirit remained unbroken. She did not let them take her or her sisters without a fight, one where she fought with all her might until she couldn’t anymore. 

Seeing Feyre and her companions, blood drained from Azriel’s face as he bled all over the floor, with an arrow penetrating his chest, her heart ached and she knew the worst was yet to come. They had failed. Feyre gave her an apologetic look, Rhys held Feyre’s hand in a comforting effort, while Cassian’s eyes were on Nesta and Azriel trying but failing to lift his head as Mor held him. Y/n noticed two other males present, from their physical description, she speculated who they were; the one who held Feyre captive and his friend; Tamlin and Lucien.

Feyre threatened the king, but he warned her to be careful, as he held her sisters’ lives in his hands. He was discussing what he’d do to the sisters with the mortal queens, Feyre and the others tried fighting him but his power was too strong, and with the cauldron he was undefeatable. They had all exhausted their powers and if they tried one more thing, Azriel was going to die, with all that poison coursing through his veins. 

As Elain was dragged towards the cauldron, Y/n broke loose from the men that held her, quickly grabbing the sword from one of their sides, lunging it at the one holding Elain, who fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Before Y/n could reach her sister, the king struck her with his powers, sending her flying across the room “Ah, we have a spirited one here. Throw this one in last.. I want her to watch it all” the king gave his orders.

That blow broke some of Y/n’s bones, but even as she winced in pain she managed to sit up. “NO-” but it was too late, he had given the orders and Elain was thrown into the cauldron, her screams echoing in the room. Then there was silence, and never has Y/n hated silence as she did that moment. She wished for any sound, any cry, scream from her sister, but nothing, she was met with nothing but complete silence. A moment later, Elain was dumped out of the cauldron, alive. She was alive, but her ears, her ears were different, they were pointed, she was fae now. 

A tear slipped down Y/n’s face as Nesta was about to be thrown in, knowing there was nothing she or anyone could do about it. Nesta fought all the way, until her head was shoved underwater. Silence fell again, before the cauldron spat her out. Like Elain, she had changed, but unlike Elain, she was full of rage. She walked over to Elain and pushed Lucien away, holding her as he claimed she was his mate. 

“Bring the spirited one, let’s see if she’ll survive… My money is on you” he told Y/n.

“I will kill you, I promise you that” she threatened while being dragged. She tried fighting the men off, but with many of her bones broken, there was only so much she could do. Stil,l she did not make it easy for them to shove her in. The cauldron bubbled but went still after a moment. Nothing could be seen or heard. A worried look took over Feyre’s face.

“I guess she wasn’t strong-willed after all” the king stated. Just seconds later, Y/n emerged from the water and grabbed the edge as she climbed out of the cauldron. She fell to her knees from all the pain and glared at the king.

Suddenly, Feyre was begging the king to break her bond with Rhys and let them all go. The king agreed and both were on the floor screaming from pain. When the king was done, Mor grabbed the sisters and Rhys grabbed Cassian and Azriel and winnowed out.

The males arrived at the Town House, while the females were dropped off at the House of Wind. They would all need time to heal, physically and mentally.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever

[forthevillains]

Albert Wesker headcanons

[these will be purely my opinion on what he does and how he is in and outside of relationship. Also let me know if I should write NSFW headcanons too!]

~ Albert is not a very open person so it’s difficult to get to him in the first place. It’s not like he lacks emotions, but as he can get easily attached, he prefers to only interact with people he must and that stays professional

~ though if you managed to get through that tough facade of his, you’ve earned yourself a loyal ally, a partner, a friend. People always make him seem bad, but gladly you didn’t care and wanted to find out for yourself, determined to find out as much as you could about this mysterious guy. And Wesker really appreciates it, even though someone being so interested in him feels odd

~ he is still distant at the beginning of the relationship, but it slowly develops into something warm and intimate. You have to give the poor man time, he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in ages if ever at all

~ the definition of you fell first, he fell harder

~ also he’s an active pet name user, so it’s very rare for him to call you by your actual name, though the more he falls for you, the more common it is for him to actually do that. Definitely adds ‘my’ before he says any pet name when he’s talking to you, just to make it known that you are special

~ he very much prefers women younger than him for a mere reason of spending as much time with you as possible. He doesn’t age like a normal person and he needs someone who would meet him at the very end so that you could leave this world together. He also wouldn’t want you to stay behind, however if you were actually his age, he would surely take care of you and make sure you still feel beautiful despite getting old

~ with the relationship come the secrets that he was able to hide from you before you got together. It’s safe to say that this man is not really a green flag due to the scars his trauma left on him. He’s not good for you and even though he wouldn’t admit it, he’s aware (somewhere deep down)

~ Albert insisted that you two live together, he needs you by his side and even when it might come off as if he’s trying to just be controlling - he’s just very scared of either you running away or someone hurting you while he’s not there to protect you

~ when it comes to sleeping by his side, for the first few months he just sleeps on his side of the bed, leaving you enough space only until he’s deep asleep. Then he’ll subconsciously wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close and making a personal teddy bear out of you. He’s touch starved after all the years alone, so much that even if he tries to give you enough space, his body won’t let him do so. You better not tell him though, because he’d feel embarrassed. Just wait for him to do it consciously and enjoy it;)

~ he’s often busy meaning you’ll have to find a hobbies of your own inside the house

~ he’s very keen on taking care of you in his free time, especially your hair. It’s kind of a therapy to him, not just playing with it, but also washing or braiding, even dying it. He’s up to do all of that for you

~ when there’s something going on with him, he probably just leaves, so that he doesn’t bother you with his problems, but if you come to him, offering your love and affection, he’s up for it. He will gladly lay on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist, closing his tired eyes. Might as well fall asleep in that position because the exhaustion would get to him

~ if you worked in Umbrella with him, then you’re aware of his plans for the future, though if you haven’t, he’s gonna keep you unaware for the rest of your life, feeding you with delusions he came up with. But don’t you worry, it won’t affect your relationship at all, he’s gonna make up for all the lies;)

~ he wouldn’t dare cry in front of you, if he ever cried at all. He’s not the type of person who would go cry to the corner, he usually overcomes the sadness with anger, so good luck calming him down

~ Wesker is actually a really good cook! He doesn’t have much time for it, of course, but when he does, he makes you delicious meals (he really likes to spoil you)

~ speaking of spoiling… His favorite thing to buy you is lingerie, without a doubt. It’s just a bad habit of his, whenever he sees something you’d look good in (which is everything in his eyes), he just has to buy it for you and then watch you try it on knowing that it’s going to end up torn apart in less than a week. He tries not to do so, but he’s so eager to have you at times he just rips your clothes off:( so he buys new new ones quite often

~ he often comes home too late, finding you asleep on the couch as you were waiting for him for too long. His heart aches at the thought of someone being so excited just to see him, of someone actually caring about him and loving him as he knows how much of a risk he’s putting you in just by being with you. He would come up to you, gently taking you in his arms and carrying you to bed. He wouldn’t join you anytime soon, but he’d definitely stop by just to look at your peaceful, sleeping form, wondering just why on earth did you choose him

~ loves it when you sit on his lap while he’s working or even while he’s just reading a book. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, while he holds a pen/documents/book in the other. Your presence is very important to him, he loves touching you, feeling you. He needs you and having you so close brings him enough comfort to let loose (and if you’d look up at him you’d probably see a tiny smile on his face)

~ absolutely loves listening to you. Even when he’s exhausted after a very bad day, he’ll pull you close to him, asking you how your day went and just lets you talk, only reassuring you that he’s still listening whenever you stop. Your voice is comforting to him and it’s his way of relaxation, to just be close to you and listen

~ underrated opinion, but in my eyes he’d hate smoking. It’s basically killing you, so why would you do that? If you’re a smoker, he’ll ask you to stop, but won’t do anything against it if you tolerate that he doesn’t want you to do it inside the house. He’s still annoyed whenever you light up a cig though

~ he likes it when you take his sunglasses and try them on. It always gets him to smile for some unknown reason as he watches you giggle, happy that you have a thing of his in your possession, even if for just a few minutes

~ secretly, his dream is to settle down and live a life he never got to have. He’s just a broken man after all and having you gave him a different view on life. Of course, he still wants to save the world (in his own ways), but he also wishes he got to have a peaceful life by your side, seeing you smile everyday, traveling across the world if you’d like to. He wished he could be the perfect man just for you

[farfromstrange]

Just Let Me Love You | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (f!Reader heavily implied)

Summary: You're struggling with your body image and Matt notices

Warnings: Angst, TW: allusions to an ED, self-deprecating talk (Reader has internalized fatphobia toward herself), not proof red (I was too emotional for that)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: So, my body is changing and I hate it. As someone who was the Fat Funny Friend growing up, I got inspired by the song. Now I wasn't sure if to tag for a plus-sized reader because when I wrote this, I had myself in mind, and I'm not even sure what "category" I fall into, so this is pretty universal and I think any of you who are struggling with body dysmorphia might appreciate this. Heed the warnings before proceeding and don't forget to eat if you haven't already! (Also, I used my tag list to tag for this, but don't read it if this triggers you, please!)

Our brains are wired to function in a certain way. But not every brain is balanced in chemistry. 

For the longest time, she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. She never fit in anywhere, so she tried to make herself fit. Change her attitude, change her behavior, change her hobbies, and change the way she looks. She did it so many times, she lost count. 

She relied on humor, telling funny little anecdotes to make whatever friend group she was a part of at the time laugh at her. But that was all she could do. Make them laugh. She lit up the mood, lit up the room, but she seemingly never lit up anyone’s heart the way her friends did. 

They talked about their relationships, talked about their families and friends, and she played along. She listened. When she talked about her likes, they pretended to care, but within minutes, they lost interest. She thought it just wasn’t that important. Not as important as how beautiful they all were, anyway. And they were striking, she thought. That’s why everyone always chose them and never approached her. But she swallowed it to at least be a part of something. 

She always helped everyone but herself. She was there when no one else was, but even when she was a part of something, she never fully fit in. There was an impossible standard looming over her head, and she couldn’t possibly reach it. 

Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too silly. Don’t say no. Don’t talk about your problems, only listen to everyone else’s. Don’t believe that he wants you because he is too good for you, and all he wants is your best friend who is ten times prettier than you. And don’t believe that personality and humor will get you anywhere; you will end up miserably alone the same way people who look like you always will. 

The same voice, over and over again. Word turning into knives. It was exhausting to fight against the demons within her because they just sounded so damn convincing. 

When she met him, the man who stole her heart, she never thought he would ask her out. When he did, she was dumbfounded. In every possible situation, he found himself assuring her that he wouldn’t drop her for the pretty blonde in the office, or his psychotic ex-girlfriend who just happened to have the most beautiful body known to man. To her, at least. Everyone around him was just so beautiful, and he was even more so–he was the prettiest specimen in the world, and everyone desired him. Of course, she grew insecure. She couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.

She fell in love with a man who finally saw her for who she was and he loved her despite—no, he loved her regardless. For who she was. He took her, accepted her, and began seeing her as the most beautiful person in the world. For the first time, she felt appreciated, loved, and not so miserably alone. 

Yet, the fear continued to linger. The fear that one day, he would notice that perhaps, a woman of average looks wouldn’t be enough for him anymore. That she was, indeed, as unconventionally unattractive as everyone said she was from the first day she actually understood what was being said to her. She was just a child then. 

The funny friend. The awkward friend. The weird one. The girl without real friends. The girl with the silly clothes, the silly smile, the slightly crooked teeth, the belly pouch… The girl who lost weight, the girl who gained weight, and the girl who shouldn’t be so proud of herself because she had nothing to be proud of. 

“Sweetheart?” he asked her, yanking her out of the downward spiral that only continued to get worse over time. “Did you have anything to eat yet?”

He stood in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dress shirt bunched around his elbow. It was hot outside, too hot for her liking, and even his clothes were slightly stained with sweat. 

She looked up from the couch, still wrapped up in a blanket despite the high temperatures, a book resting on her thighs. He met her eyes with a smile. 

“I noticed your leftovers are still in the fridge. Could smell them,” he clarified. “I was just wondering whether that was on purpose or not.”

Worrying fit it better, she thought to herself. He always worried too much. 

She closed her book. “I might’ve forgotten,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “You forgot?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it never reached his eyes. 

“Yeah. I probably got too caught up reading or something. It’s no big deal. I’ll eat later. Or drink another latte.”

He hummed. “You know, iced coffee is not considered a healthy diet. Your body needs fuel.”

“Jesus Christ, Matt,” she raised her voice, “I’m okay!”

“You don’t look okay,” he stated as a matter of fact. 

“And how would you know?”

“I just do.”

He approached, his muscles straining against his shirt. It wasn’t fair, how good he looked. How well he carried himself. And he still had the audacity to look at her and tell her she had much more going for herself than just her humor. That she was beautiful. Pretty enough. 

“Hey,” Matt lowered himself on the couch beside her, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”

“I forgot to eat, I told you,” she said.

“I don’t believe you.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Not if you did it on purpose.”

The book landed on the coffee table and she got up, pacing the small space of their shared apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage, the pent-up tears, and the tension, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out. But he waited. He gave her the space she needed to collect her thoughts.

“I forgot,” she repeated. “At first. And then I just happened to pass by a mirror and…and I looked at myself. I mean, really looked at myself.”

“Oh–” He sighed. “Baby…”

“I’m smaller when my stomach is empty, you know. And I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to, uh…cut back a little?”

He was about to respond, but she cut him off. “I don’t mean that I’m starving myself. I just…I forgot to eat, and then, when I remembered, I remembered what I saw and I was just…I’m not hungry anymore. I…I don’t think it’s a big deal. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m just…”

She stopped pacing. She met his unfocused hazel eyes that held so much pain when he looked at her. He reached out, not saying a word, and she extended her shaky fingers toward the lifeline he was throwing. 

“Oh, God,” she whispered. She realized then why he looked so hurt. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

The question hung in the room as he pulled her toward himself. 

She didn’t protest when he pulled her back onto the couch, his arms engulfing her and pulling her back against his sturdy chest.

“What makes you think that you need to hurt yourself to fit some unrealistic beauty standard?” he asked softly, his voice merely a breath tickling her ear. 

She whimpered, not wanting to answer. 

“What makes you think that not being healthy is the solution to the way you see yourself? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just… I just want to be enough.”

“But you are enough,” he answered in a heartbeat, placing his hand on her neck and turning her face to him. He missed her face with his gaze, but she could still feel him in every fiber of her being as he sat there and felt her pulse, and she matched her breathing to his. 

A tear rolled down her cheek. “You don’t understand what it’s like,” she whispered back. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be only seen as the comedic relief in every relationship you have ever been in while your friends pulled the guys you wanted. Because they never wanted you, and they never saw competition in you either because you were just never the center of anyone’s attention.”

He was silent for a moment. The taste of her tears reached his tongue, and he visibly recoiled at the pain she held inside of her. Matt pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. She melted. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of leaving her to deal with her thoughts, he placed his lips against her ear again. “You’re the center of my attention,” he said. “Of my world. My universe. And I couldn’t care less about the way you look.”

“That’s because you’re blind,” she shot back, a sob rippling through her body. 

He shook his head. “No. Those who reduce you to your looks are blind, and they don’t even deserve you in the first place. What matters most is this–” his large hand found its way onto the left side of her chest, above her heart. “What’s in here is what makes you beautiful, not what covers the outside.”

“But that’s not enough, is it?”

“To me, it is.”

“Not to me, Matthew. Like I said, you don’t get it.”

She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Then let me rephrase it,” he tried again, pressing his hand further against her chest. “I care more about who you are inside because I love you. But I don’t need sight to appreciate your physical beauty along with the sound of your heartbeat. Your breathing. Your touch. You know why?”

She shook her head. “Enlighten me.”

“Because I can feel you, sweetheart, and you are the most breathtaking human being I have ever had the pleasure of laying my hands on.”

If words were enough to make a person pass out, this would surely have been her breaking point. 

“You mean that?” She turned around, her tears now glistening with a taste of hope. 

He brushed them away with his thumb and nodded. “Every last word.”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the ghost of his touch. “I don’t like my body,” the admission came quietly.

In response, Matt nodded. “I know, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. That body deserves to be loved. You deserve to be loved.”

“I feel like…like I don’t deserve you. I don’t want you to leave me for…for Karen.”

The mention of her name caused him to frown. “Karen?” he asked. She nodded. He sighed, forcing her head to his chest, forcing her to listen to his heartbeat the same way he always did to her. “Don’t even think like that,” he told her. “I would never leave you for someone else. For no one, for nothing. I need you to stop assuming that, sweetheart. It’s not true.”

“It feels true,” she cried. 

His lips brushed the crown of her head. “But it isn’t.”

“But–”

“I love you,” he said, a bit more insistent this time. “Only you. I would rather die than never be with you again. And I mean that. Bring me the poison and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll get on my knees and worship the ground you walk on if that’ll make you believe me, but I won’t leave you.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shirt. Matt shushed her, his fingers brushing through her hair. The rhythm was soothing. 

She sobbed until she had nothing left to give. She cried because she knew he was right. She knew she was overthinking, but she was powerless to fight it. He was the only one who could open her eyes, and even then, she more often than not slipped away. She hated it. She hated the way her brain was wired, the things she was taught, and the things she continuously and wrongly kept teaching herself. 

Eventually, though, she slacked in his arms. 

“I don’t really like myself right now,” she confessed. “But I don’t know how to stop it.”

Matt chuckled softly, his chest rumbling. He tilted her chin up. “Then let me help you,” he said. 

“How?” she asked. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle kiss. “Just let me love you.” 

Tagging from Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @ravenclaw617 @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten

[sosuigeneris]

Socialite series: Manufacturing your Personality

So you want to get into high society. I can give you a guideline as to how you can do that. 

I was born in high society, in India. I know how these systems work. Even across cultures, they’re quite similar. I know some German, Asian, American high society people. Certain things are very similar across continents. 

You can permanently secure your position by two ways: marriage, or by becoming somebody. 

In Indian high society, there’s two kinds of people: those who have lineage, and those who are rich. 

Those who have lineage are those (mostly bankrupt) Maharajas, artists, singers, musicians, poets for generations - it’s an art form or royalty handed down to their children. They have ✨culture, a legacy✨ that can only be obtained by birth. They want to mingle with the business rich so that they get access to the opportunities they need for their livelihoods. 

The business rich can be new or old money. It doesn’t matter. Their businesses are family businesses. They have money, but may lack class. Don’t be mistaken that only new money can be “tacky” - I know plenty of influential, old money families who are equally classless and tacky. 

They want to mingle with the lineage crowd because they need that ✨culture✨ to be seen as someone. They want to be associated with them, to improve their reputations. By connecting to the artistic and musical world, it shows that they have class and persona. 

Both groups, as you see, need each other. You may ask - can’t there be families where there’s both?

Yes there can. But that is not common. 

Let’s say you take the route of dating someone who is of high society, and are hoping to convert that into marriage. I’ll be very honest with you - you have to seriously stand out for Asian and Middle Eastern high society families to accept you if you lack both lineage and money. 

You need to have a strong educational background - you need to go to a great college or masters, or whatever - otherwise this is really not going to happen. This is requirement number 1. If you don’t have this, don’t even bother reading the rest. 

And in Asian and ME families, remember one thing. Marriages are between families, NOT individuals. You have to impress the family, the family’s friends, their maids and barbers and god knows who else. 

And here are Cherry’s insider tips, just for you, to fit right in. If you fit in comfortably, it makes your life and everyone else’s life easier. 

Extrovert tendencies 

don’t be intimidated by people, don’t be shy or awkward 

It’s better to mix in being a combination of “social + slightly bored” like “it’s nice to meet you, but I wouldn’t die to be here.” 

Be open without jumping around like a Disney kid. Being “overexcited” or jumpy, smiling and laughing at just about everything comes across as weird in some cultures, IF that’s not how you genuinely are. That might work in the US, but not everywhere else. 

If I had to very simply define an extrovert - approach new people with ease, learn the art of small talk and be a good listener. 

Confident 

have a sense of self: career, hobbies, likes or dislikes, experiences

Be a multi faceted person. Do things that YOU like. If you like reading Japanese literature and collecting quartz, great! That’s your thing! 

Good communication skills

articulate, small talk abilities, good listener, curious, engaging

be able to tell little stories about yourself without giving everything away 

Well dressed 

do an image consultation for your colours, understand your body shape type and find a style that works for you

Create a capsule wardrobe that is timeless 

Remember - modesty is ALWAYS the best idea for any event. 

Posture - stand up straight, be able to walk in heels, sit without slouching

if you don’t know how to walk in heels, learn to. Practice it. 

Sit up straight, do some yoga or something for good posture 

Maintenance- good skin, hair, fit body, skin, nails, teeth; good hygiene; smell good 

hygiene comes first. Shower regularly, wash your hair as often as needed. 

Put on perfume. 

Find a make up style that works for you. Again, this takes practice. It took me years to figure out what kind of eyeliner works on my eyes and that bronzer doesn’t suit me at all. Crazy make up, unnatural hair colours, visible tattoos or piercings will not sit well in these societies. 

Etiquette 

dining etiquette- learn how to eat properly. This is not just for white culture but for other cultures as well. Understand broadly how popular cultures etiquettes work - Japanese eating etiquettes, European fork and knife etiquette, Korean drinking etiquette, Indian and Middle Eastern etiquette, etc. 

giving appropriate gifts to the host - bottle of wine or flowers 

Learn thank you etiquette- shoot a text message to the host thanking them for the event 

Intelligence

Show that you have some sort of a personality. 

Stay updated with current affairs

know your line of work and the relevant people (top companies, CEOs, etc), trends happening in your industry 

Be open to learning new things  

Put together

have a routine, show some form of discipline. 

This can be done by committing to something long term, such as healthy habits - exercise, reading, waking up early. 

Keep a watch on what you say 

people, especially women, who come across as bratty are seen as a big no no and can come across as exhausting and blood sucking. Zip it. 

Don’t talk about your failures, vulnerabilities, mistakes or mishaps. That’s confidential. 

Don’t complain or be snotty or a potty mouth. 

Do not put other people down in front of people who are not your absolute close friends. 

Poise (this is for your mental health and wellbeing)

Don’t be over eager. Being overly friendly can be seen as submissiveness. 

You’re overly friendly with someone because you want to be accepted by them. Acceptance only happens when you’re familiar with one another. When you become too familiar, it becomes a breeding ground for disrespect. Boundaries get crossed easily. 

Body language

practice practice and practice. 

Video yourself and have a fake conversation with someone. Or maybe FaceTime a friend and record yourself and see how you react to things. 

I used to watch those “try not to laugh/ get angry/ cry” videos to maintain a strong facial expression at all times. Not everyone deserves to see you vulnerable. 

Social media 

Take. Shit. Down. 

Go private if you don’t make money of social media. You’re perceived as more mysterious if you’re a private account. 

Remember, even if you’re private, it doesn’t mean that your pictures aren’t being shared. Someone’s taken a screenshot at some point for SURE or shown your account to someone else. Don’t give anyone anything to talk about. 

Don’t upload every second of every day. 

Don’t upload anything questionable- your break ups, your new boyfriend, girls nights, clubbing, your latest shopping spree etc etc. Keep things halal. Think of it this way - if your boss were to see those photos, how would you feel?

Overexposing yourself on social media comes across as desperate for attention. Limit that.

Cherry 🍒

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 3

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Four

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

A week goes by without a word from Steven. You told him to take his time; you expected him to. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him every day.

If he was going to say no, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Or he might not answer you at all. That, you think, is worse. You would rather know for sure than guess what the silence means.

You try not to feel disappointment for something that hasn’t even happened—technically, he hasn’t rejected you—but it still prowls in the back of your mind. You haven’t been this worried about something since your company got off the ground when everything was still uncertain, with no guarantee you could make a living.

You especially never felt this way about your other babies. The situations are entirely different. You didn’t have to worry about a referral rejecting you, not right out of the gate anyway. And all the ones you met through specific apps were the same: saying yes and figuring out if things worked as time went on. You at least had a couple of months with all your previous babies, each of you getting a feel for the other before mutually deciding to part ways for one reason or another.

And yet none of them were quite as unforgettable to you as Steven is. Try as you might, you still don’t understand how you’re so drawn to him. Maybe you see enough of yourself in him that you can’t help but want to take care of him, like how you wished someone had cared for you before you broke out and started making what would lead to your fortune.

But it means nothing if he says no. So, as much as you dislike it, you try to put him from your mind. You go about your days as usual, attending meetings, fielding phone calls from heads of different departments, approving the latest marketing budget, and finalizing every move your company makes to ensure you know exactly what is happening at all times. Technically, you don’t need to be as hands-on as you are. There are certainly other people in a similar position who aren’t. You could be on a beach somewhere, signing documents someone else has already read and approved for you. You could be the kind of CEO who never reads a thing and just puts your signature wherever you’re told. You would effectively be retired while still earning an ungodly amount of money. 

But you can’t do that; you can’t stand not knowing what’s happening with something that is your responsibility. You don’t want to rest easy, and you like working. While you have plenty—more than enough, really—saved away in investments, trusts, and more than a few bank accounts, you know how easily everything can be taken away. It almost happened once in the beginning, and ever since, you’ve been trying to ensure it never happens again.

And for all your worries about the state of your business, you don’t let it cross over into your after-work hours. You would, quite frankly, go insane if you didn’t clock out promptly at five. If nothing is on fire, it can wait until the next business day. The meeting you had the day of your dinner with Steven was a rare exception, but even then it only ran a few minutes past before you shut it down. The rest of the time was spent traveling from your office building to the restaurant.

You never understood people who worked later than they needed to. You’d much rather spend your evenings on things you enjoy, which, when you have one, is often your baby.

And you’re thinking of Steven again.

Would he like sitting with you while you were entertained by your other, mainly indoor, hobbies? Some of your other babies grew restless with the inactivity. Or would he be needy, constantly endearingly wanting your attention but never pushing too far?

You picture him looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes, begging for you to take him somewhere, talk to him, lavish him with affection—

Stop it.

Try as you might, it’s impossible to shake him. He’s in skin deep, and you have no clue how to carve him out.

Another week goes by, and still no word from Steven.

You had assumed, after he said he would tell you after he blushed so prettily and didn’t run screaming, that he would at least have the courtesy to tell you he had to turn you down. You’re less upset at this point and more irritated. Annoyed with Steven, sure, but annoyed at yourself for going against your better judgment, hoping that everything would turn out fine. You had to be smart to get where you are; you should have known better than to pick up a random person to try to make your sugar baby.

It’s Saturday night, and you’re cozied up on your couch, watching your favorite movie and enjoying a molten fudge brownie to drown your sorrows and anger. This was how you spent most weekends, in truth. All the money in the world didn’t make you any less of an introvert, uninterested in loud clubs or parties—unless you had a date to show off.

Which you don’t.

You scrape the crumbs from your plate and lick the fudge from your fork before tossing them down on the coffee table with a clatter, the sound making you wince.

Before long, the movie isn’t able to distract you. Still feeling a little spiteful, you grab your phone, letting the movie play for background noise.

You open the app you use to look for new babies—the one everyone has to pay to use. Maybe what you need is a professional, which many who use the app are. At the very least, you’ll have a more timely response from them. The professionals don’t play games. And even if you don’t see one tonight that catches your interest, there’s no harm in looking.

After glancing at a few profiles, you pause on one belonging to a dark-haired man with glasses. He says he lives in New York—you have your settings set internationally since you have the funds to bring someone to you—and you entertain the idea of asking him to relocate. You’ve never had someone move for you, but seeing how devoted a baby could be to you is always an ego boost.

Just as you’re about to send a few coins the man’s way—the paid in-app currency that mommies and daddies use to show interest and initiate contact with prospective babies—your phone chimes, the delicate notes of your ringtone filling the room.

A call. From Steven.

Disbelief fills you, tamping down some of your anger. It doesn’t dissipate entirely, though, and you’re tempted not to answer to teach Steven a lesson. But he’s not your baby, and reacting with anger before you hear him out isn’t fair to him.

Pausing your movie, you swipe to answer just before the call gets sent to voicemail.

“Hello,” you say simply, unwilling to try saying anything witty lest it comes across wrong over the phone. It’s happened before, and it’s never fun to have to backtrack and explain yourself, especially in such a delicate situation as this.

“For a second there, I was afraid you weren’t going to answer,” Steven says, sounding relieved.

“Why would you be afraid?”

“Because…” Steven hesitates. “Because it’s late, and I meant to talk to you sooner, I swear. But something…weird happened, and it was days later, and I could have sworn I left your number on Gus’s tank, but then it wasn’t there. And after everything else, I forgot for a day there and—”

“Steven,” you cut him off, ignoring the “forgetting” thing—for now. “Your answer?”

Steven is quiet for a moment. Then, a soft “Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do you want?” You need to hear him say it.

“Yes, I want to…be your sugar baby.” He whispers the last part as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud. If he doesn’t want to be called that, you won’t force it, but the affirmative response makes you grin.

“But I have some questions first,” he quickly adds.

“Of course. We’ll go over the terms and everything first before we make it official. Are you available tomorrow?”

You had Steven pick the meeting place, wanting him to be somewhere familiar and comfortable to discuss such an unfamiliar topic. The courtyard where you’re to meet Steven is small but lovely. You arrive a few minutes earlier than the set meeting time of ten. Early to ease Steven’s nerves, which you could hear from the other end of the line, and so you weren’t left feeling like you couldn’t do anything for the rest of the day now that you had one thing planned.

You spot Steven sitting on the bench in front of a ground fountain in the middle of the square, shoulder slumped and eyes staring down at the ground. You slowly approach, making sure your heeled boots clack loudly on the bricks. He looks up when you get close and jumps to his feet when he sees you, saying your name. Then he sticks out his hand before abruptly dropping it.

“Sorry. I’m not sure what the proper greeting for…this is.”

Smiling, you ask, “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Steven nods, his face flushing. You wonder, the longer you know him if that’ll ever stop. You hope it doesn’t.

Pleased, you step forward, tucking your arms under Steven’s while his come over your shoulders. His hold is light, like he isn’t sure how firmly to hold you. You tuck your chin onto his shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying his warmth. You relish affectionate touches with your babies, and Steven’s arms feel lovely around you.

It’s not a quick hug. You keep your arms around him, giving Steven a chance to relax into it. If he doesn’t, he may be one of the ones you forgo such actions with. Pleasantly, though, he readjusts his arms, settling their weight around you more completely to actually hold you.

He even lets out a pleased hum, and you have to bite your lip to keep your smile from turning into a too-wide grin.

Steven seems a little startled when you eventually pull away.

“So, what would you like to know?” you ask, sitting on the bench, setting your bag beside you on your free side.

“Right, erm…” He sits next to you, close but not too close. “What would I have to…do exactly?”

“Can you be more specific?” What a sugar baby does can encompass a number of things that vary for every mommy and daddy.

Steven looks around at the people passing by, shifting back and forth in his seat. “Would I have to…sleep with you?” he whispers.

It’s a fair question. Usually, one of the first a new baby will ask, and his hesitancy tells you that, for whatever reason, he’s shy about the topic.

“Only if we both want to and sometime in the future when we both know each other better,” you answer honestly.

You don’t sleep with all your babies, and it’s not a requirement for you. Some people don’t like sex with their mommies or daddies, and you’re not going to force someone to sleep with you. You can perfectly enjoy having a baby, being their mommy, without having sex with them.

“Oh,” Steven says evenly. You can’t quite make out what his tone means.

“And if you don’t want me to touch you at all, that’s fine. We don’t have to hug again or anything like that again if it’s uncomfortable for you.” Though you’ll be more than a little disappointed if that’s the case.

“The hug was nice!” Steven quickly assures you. “I just wasn’t sure if-if you’d need that for me to…”

“We don’t have to be sexual with each other for me to enjoy your company, Steven.”

He nods. “Good. That’s…good.”

Sometimes, you have trouble understanding what people mean when they speak. Steven’s an endearing sort of awkward, but you’re starting to learn that makes it hard to tell what he means.

Is he happy that he doesn’t have to have sex with a stranger? Or is he like some other people and disappointed that he doesn’t get to have a very-few-strings-attached relationship?

You’ll probably need to start asking for clarification in the future, but for now, don’t say anything and let the topic drop.

“What else do you have questions about?”

Steven shakes himself from his thoughts and turns back to you, no longer looking uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to quit my job?”

“Do you want to quit your job?” You’ve never asked a baby to quit working—if they even had a job to begin with—unless it was something that did more harm than good. Not to mention, it’s a good way to keep them busy when you’re not around. You can’t exactly be with your baby twenty-four-seven.

You don’t know what Steven goes through on a daily basis, though you can guess based on what his manager is like.

“Well, I don’t exactly love working with Donna,” Steven says, his mouth twisting when he mentions the woman of his apparent nightmares. “But the others aren’t so bad, and I really like it there. I mean, I wish I weren’t stuck in the gift shop, but it’s not all bad.”

“Then keep your job,” you shrug. “Set up a savings or investment account and put every paycheck in there. Then you have it for the future if you ever need it.”

“Are you sure?” Steven presses. “Because some of the things I read said I would have to.”

“If you need me to tell you to quit so it’s easier for you, then quit. But otherwise, I don’t care. I’m more than capable of working around your schedule. This is kind of another job, in a way.” He still looks unsure. You gently place your hand on his jaw, needing him to not just hear you but listen to you. “I want to take care of you, not control you.”

In a manner of speaking, you do control your babies, telling them what to wear and what to do to make you happy. Some even have a sort of persona around you that you find particularly pleasing. But you don’t force them to make life choices like that.

Helping someone quit their shitty job is vastly different than making someone stop doing something they enjoy. You’ve also noticed that it can be hard for new babies to give up the way of life they’re so used to. For them, it’s difficult to actually go through with not working when it’s all they’ve ever known, despite how often they’ve dreamt of never having to work ever again.

Steven doesn’t say anything, though he does seem to lean into your hand a little.

“So what’ll it be?” you prompt.

“I’ll keep my job,” he answers quietly, still mesmerized by your touch. You nod and take your hand away; you need his head clear.

“I just have one question for you before I start going over everything else.”

“Whatever you want to know.”

“Are you in any sort of relationship? Committed, casual?” You carefully watch Steven’s face, looking for any tells. You can’t always tell when people lie, but almost everyone has common cues indicating when they’re being deceitful.

“Oh, no! Nothing to worry about there,” he says with an awkward laugh. When he sees the slightly skeptical look on your face, he continues. “Let’s just say you’re the only one who’s been interested in me.”

His uncontrollable blush is on his face again, and he meets your eye without issue.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from asking Ever? Or recently? That’s something you can ask later if he’s willing to talk about it to sate your curiosity.

“Do people really do that?” Steven asks. “Date someone and be a sugar baby at the same time?”

“Of course, and usually consensually between all parties. It all comes down to what someone needs from their baby. Me, though? I like having them all to myself. It can be hard to try to fit in a third.”

“So I take it you’re not in a relationship?” Steven asks slowly.

You shake your head. “I’m not. It’s why I like having sugar babies.”

With the major questions out of the way, you start going into your expectations.

“There aren’t a lot of events that I attend, but I expect you to come with me,” you start, and Steven pulls out his phone. For a second, you’re confused, but as he starts typing., you see he’s making notes for himself. “Sometimes I like to take overnight trips, and I’d like you to come with me. We’ll have to go around your work schedule, though, so you always need to let me know your hours.

Steven writes it all down, mumbling the words to himself as you say them.

When I call, you answer. When I tell you to call me, you call me. No excuses.

If I ever tell you to do or not do something, you listen. It won’t ever be anything morally objectional. Depending on what it is, I’ll ask if you’re comfortable with it.

I’m your mommy, I expect please and thank you.

I like being affectionate. That means hugging, holding hands, and the like. I’d even like to be able to kiss you on the cheek if that’s alright with you.

I’ll give you a card. When you’re on your own, I expect you to use it. If I don’t see any large purchases on the statement, you’ll get a talking-to.

When we’re together, you ask me to buy things for you. Nothing is too big or too small.

I’ll be paying all your rent and any bills, so we’ll need to take time to get those sorted.

I’m paying you for your time, so you’ll get a payment every time we’re on a date or go out. Feel free to ask for more than I give you. There’s nothing wrong with being playful and saying you’re worth more.

“Also,” you say once you finish your last point. “Most of my babies are fine with informal, verbal agreements, but I can get something written up for you if you’d like.”

Steven is so focused on typing that he doesn’t realize you want his input. It isn’t until he registers what he’s typing that he finally looks up.

“Oh, sorry.” He locks his phone, putting his hands in his lap. “Is one better than the other?”

“Having a written agreement is more for the baby’s benefit. Based on my experience, babies like it because they can have a signed statement for continued payment for some time after the relationship ends. I usually only hear of high rollers doing it; that way, the baby is set up if things sour. And if the mommy or daddy doesn’t want to pay, the baby can threaten legal action, which usually gets settled out of court very quickly. A win-win for the baby.”

“And what would you get out of it?”

“For me personally? It would just be a way to hold you to the agreement enough to keep you from running out without notifying me. It’s fine if you don’t want to be my baby anymore, but I am at least owed a sort of resignation whenever the time comes.”

You remember that one baby you had a couple of years ago. He was new to the game, took his first payment, and left without speaking to you again. You were more annoyed at having to make someone track him down to ensure that nothing had happened to him than upset that he didn’t want to be a baby anymore.

“So, if I don’t want to be your baby anymore, I just say so and walk away?” Steven asks with a hint of skepticism, likely thinking that it surely can’t be that easy.

“Exactly. Like I said, I don’t want to control you or own you, but I think I deserve enough respect to be told you’re no longer interested.”

Steven thinks everything over for a moment.

“I can’t say I see myself wanting to sure you, so I think I’ll be okay without signing anything,” he eventually says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, this doesn’t have to be as complicated as all that, does it?”

You give a small smile. “It doesn’t. This is supposed to be fun, after all.”

Steven smiles back at you, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Normally, your babies don’t set your heart pounding, but Steven isn’t quite like them. You push it out of your mind; it’s best not to get too attached, not like that anyway.

“Did you set up that account I asked you to?” you ask, ready to get on to the fun part of a new baby’s first arrangement.

Steven unlocks his phone and opens the online banking app you asked him to download last night. It’s the best way to send his payment, and then he can move it around however he likes afterward.

Pulling up the QR code to share his profile, you scan it with your app, adding him to your contacts. Then, you tap to start a transaction.

“This will be for our initial dinner and for today. Go ahead and type any amount you’d like in there,” you say, handing your phone to Steven.

He stares at the screen, frozen, like he’s afraid to move.

“Go on,” you urge him. You had wondered what he’d be like once he was told to start asking for money. Much like your other new babies, he’s hesitant, afraid to name a number, even though this whole arrangement revolves around money.

Steven looks up at you, eyes wide and biting his lip. Finally, looking back down at your phone, you watch as he types a single “1” before thrusting it back toward you.

You don’t take it. “Do you think that’s all you’re worth? Add some zeroes on there.”

Steven types one zero.

“Another,” you command. Very slowly, he types another. “Think you can give me one more?”

“I… That’s just…” Steven flounders, shaking his head.

“Steven.” Just his name, nothing more. Your voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

This time, he quickly hits a third zero and practically throws the phone back at you.

“Good boy,” you say, quickly hitting the ‘transfer’ button to send the thousand pounds to Steven. You think you see him shiver.

You grin, already loving his reactions. You can’t wait to tease him, give him more.

“Now, what do you say?” you ask, tucking your phone back into your leather handbag.

“Thank you,” Steven says quietly, face once again flushed.

“You’re welcome, baby.” His eyes flit down shyly, but he doesn’t turn away from you.

Then you reach out and tug on the sleeve of his shirt, examining the fit and pattern.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do today if you have the time,” you say, eyeing up the rest of his outfit.

“What’s that?” Steven asks, sounding nervous and perhaps a little excited.

Your eyes flick to meet his, that predatory look returning to your face.

“I want to take you clothes shopping.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy