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alinathinkstoomuch · 2 days ago

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ONE RULE AT A TIME

pairing: aaron hotchner x lawyer!reader summary: you and hotch have barely had any alone time—and he just can’t wait (no, like literally, he cannot wait) to get his hands on you, based on this request. warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, oh boy here we go... semi-public p in v sex, public fingering, public orgasm, slight corruption & free use kinks, extraaa horny hotch, slight d/s undertones, r has to sit through dinner with come in her underwear (yay!!), established relationship. word count: 3.8k (lol)

✧ masterlist | ✧ alina's 1k bar

You considered it rude to leave the table mid-conversation.

It was one of those rules, leftover from a mother who believed proper manners could carry a girl further than ambition. Elbows off the table. Napkin in your lap. Don’t interrupt. Don’t leave before dessert.

Of course, those rules technically didn’t apply here. Not with this group. These weren’t stiff-lipped dinner guests or white-gloved patrons of a country club. These were your friends. Or, more accurately, your colleagues—though you only ever called them that when you needed distance.

Still, the habit lingered. Your spine straightened every time someone new spoke, you nodded politely, you laughed at all the right cues. But it was getting increasingly harder to feign interest in anything anyone was saying, not with how close Aaron was sitting next to you.

It was criminal, really, how little time you’d had alone with him lately. Between your caseload, his travel schedule, and the world’s general refusal to accommodate a few uninterrupted minutes, tonight had been the first time in weeks you’d managed to make it into the same photograph.

Unfortunately, the night you could both conjure up happened to involve other people. Talkative, never-quite-leaving people.

And you were trying your hardest to remain composed, executing your best poker-face saved for the courtroom to keep your thoughts and facial expressions appropriate. But then you felt Aaron’s hand brush your thigh under the table, and you forgot what someone was saying about….something.

You didn’t look at him right away, you knew better. Instead, you set your fork down and reached for your wine glass, agreeing to God knows what conversation was happening. The question could’ve been ‘Have you ever committed perjury?’ and there you were, nodding along because the man you couldn’t wait to get alone was currently trying to initiate foreplay at the dinner table.

His hand never paused, fingers tracing idle shapes above your knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake like breadcrumbs to your undoing. The room began to feel violently hot, and unfortunately there didn’t seem to be enough air for everyone to share. You reached for a cream napkin, blotting your mouth but also using it as a barrier from everyone else.

This wasn’t you. You had rules, standards, a personal code built on discretion, discipline, and never fooling around in public with a man who could get you to confess to crimes with just his fingers. You turned towards him, napkin still raised.

“Aaron,” you warned. “Stop that.”

He did just the opposite, his fingers pressing down a little harder now.

You had never been the kind of woman to lose her head. You didn’t do public groping during candlelit dinner while someone ranted about office politics. You followed your rules. You were judicious, you were composed, you were the kind of person who scheduled spontaneity.

And yet, here you were, pressing your thighs together under the table while Aaron Hotchner slowly pushed every moral you’d ever held into a shredder with one hand and a neutral expression.

You turned to him again. “I’m serious. You need to stop.”

The bastard had the gall to tilt his head and furrow his brows like he couldn’t possibly imagine what you meant.

“I mean it. Quit that,” you chided, setting your napkin down.

And his hand did move. He lifted it from your thigh and returned it to his side of the table. You exhaled—relief, technically—but it came threaded with something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

Because yes, this was about professionalism, about decency, about not letting the I-haven’t-seen-you-in-too-long hormones reduce you both to a cautionary tale in public misconduct. Still…you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of that spark he had managed to light in a place it had no business burning.

Though you didn’t have time to dwell or dissect your traitorous feelings before Aaron was abruptly standing and pulling your chair back for you, mumbling a curt, “Excuse us,” to the table.

You looked around, mouth wide as your legs brought you up. “I’m so sorry,” you said, passing a look to everyone at the table who didn’t look the least bit fazed. “Back in a sec.”

Aaron’s hand found your wrist, his misbehaving fingers curling around yours as he started pulling you towards the back of the bar. You were so flustered your legs could barely keep up, tripping over themselves every second step like they were also struggling to process what was happening.

“Where are we going?” you hissed, stumbling slightly as he rounded a corner. “You can’t just pull us away from dinner mid-conversation. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You looked a little hot,” he muttered, glancing back as he steered you past the bathrooms and down a corridor that was definitely for staff only.

“Because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!”

He continued weaving through the turns and bends until you reached a narrow staircase that looked like it was in dire need of a health inspection.

“Think it’s this way,” he mumbled to himself, and all you could do was follow as he all but dragged you up the least stable stairs your feet had ever stood on.

“You are insane. We shouldn’t even be up here. You’re going to get us banned and I come here for drinks more often than I go home for dinner.”

“You come here to network,” he corrected.

You glared at the back of his head, noting his deliciously broad shoulders under the navy suit jacket he was wearing. “That’s what I said. Which is all the more reason we shouldn’t be on anything that’s not the ground floor.”

You reached the top of the stairs, and Aaron let go of your hand to use both of his to open up the fire exit door planted at the end of the stairwell. It opened with a creak of protest before you felt a gush of cold air greet you.

“What is your pla—” You didn’t get the chance to finish before Aaron was manhandling you again, hungry hands ruching up your dress as they groped all they could reach.

“Aaron, we can’t do this here,” you breathed, head tilting up to the sky, the stars above shining down like innocent witnesses to your wildly inappropriate, excessively horny boyfriend.

“Missed you.” He nipped your neck, nose brushing the pendant that rested on your collarbone. “So much.”

“I missed you too, fuck, but we can’t possibly do this here. Let’s just—wait until we get home.”

He grabbed your hand, bringing it down to his crotch. “Does this feel like it can wait?”

You should’ve pulled your hand back, should’ve ignored the feeling between your legs, but your immediate response was to curl your fingers around him. “This is so inappropriate.”

“I know.” His mouth was on your neck again and you felt him nudge and grind into your hand, then into your thigh, the hard press of his cock knocking all your sensible principles loose one by one. “You smell so fucking good.”

“You’re not listening,” you tried, weakly, because that’s what you were supposed to say. “I’m trying to be rational.”

“And I’m trying to make you feel good.” He grinned into your skin. “Guess we’re both busy.”

You made contact with the brick wall, just as Aaron pushed you up against it, hand dipping beneath your dress.

“We’ll get caught.”

He kissed your jaw. “No one comes up here.”

“We could get arrested.”

Another kiss. “I’d make sure you didn’t.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” you muttered, but your voice dropped when his thumb pressed down onto your clothed clit.

“If you really want me to stop, say the word.” The word. Your safe word. Not that you’d ever had to use it before, because Aaron had never decided to pounce on you on a restaurant rooftop like the idea of waiting for a cab repulsed him.

You said nothing.

Little protests had left your lips when his hand landed on your thigh, but now that you had the chance to actually make all of this stop, you didn’t. You couldn’t. And you knew it was wrong. So deeply wrong and anyone could walk in, and there could be cameras and—

“Turn around,” he instructed, taking half a step back to slip off his jacket, his white shirt almost glowing in the dark.

“What?”

“Against the wall.”

He was already guiding your hips, manoeuvring you to spin your back to him. Your palms braced the scratchy brick wall, the one you were about to get very well acquainted with if you were to let Aaron have his way with you. Which, let’s be honest, has happened since the moment you walked into this place.

“What if someone comes up?” you asked quietly, pausing when you heard the buckle of his belt come undone, like that sound was your final chance to put a stop to all of this.

His response came in the form of hoisting your dress up, his chest keeping your back warm. “Can feel the heat through your thighs.”

Your breathing was already ragged and he hadn't actually touched you yet, not properly. You hated how easy it was for him to reduce you to this.

“You ready?” he murmured, fingers finding the waistband of your underwear.

You nodded, barely.

“Use your words.”

“…Yes.”

You folded into the wall, forehead grazing stone as he slipped your panties halfway down your legs. One of his hands rested on your hip, while the other gripped his cock, and you could feel the motion of him pumping himself a few times before his tip nudged between your thighs, thick and wet.

Normally, he would tease, drag it through your pussy, because he knew you loved hearing the lewd sounds of how wet the both of you were. Loved the feeling of his veins burning your clit. But tonight, he just pushed in, the stretch knocking the breath from your lungs.

It had been over 2 months since you'd felt him. 73 days, if you wanted to be exact. And somehow, he felt bigger than you remembered.

“Christ,” he groaned, forehead resting on your shoulder as he sank deeper. “You feel so fucking good. Tightest you’ve ever been.”

He pulled out just to slam back in.

“Can’t believe I waited this long. Should’ve had you like this the second we got in the car.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-moan, your body jerking with the next thrust. “I would’ve killed you.”

“Look at you, you’ve been fighting me all night just to end up like this.”

And he was right, which annoyingly, was the case with him nine times out of ten. You fought him because that’s what you’d taught yourself to do. Fight everyone in some form or another, directly or indirectly. It wasn’t even a conscious decision you made anymore, just part of your operating system.

But then came Aaron.

He was someone who didn’t hold back, who didn’t let you win arguments just to keep the peace. He pushed you, gently of course, and you could tell he took some smug satisfaction in challenging you when he knew you were wrong (a rarity). You hated it at first, the feeling of being matched, but also of being completely understood. It made you feel exposed, like he’d see your true colours and run. But instead, he was fucking you against a brick wall while your friends laughed over drinks downstairs.

Your fingers scraped the brick and your knees buckled when his hand slid between your thighs again. “Aaron—”

“Oh, you’re close. You’re gonna come just like this, aren’t you?”

“I swear to God—”

“Right here?” he asked, his fingers dragging slow circles. “Where anyone could walk up and see how good I’m making you feel?”

The noise you made was inaudible. A whimper, a moan, a curse all jammed into one.

“Thought you had rules,” he mocked. “Thought you didn’t do things like this.”

“I don’t.”

“No?” He pinched your clit, and you pressed your forehead harder into the wall, teeth clenched, your thighs squeezing around his arm, like you could trap him there or stop him—you weren’t sure anymore.

Every part of your body felt like it was on fire, the breeze of the night doing you zero favours. You were close, so close, and there was nothing left to give him. You couldn’t match his pace nor his efforts, all you could do was stand there and take it.

The moment his fingers quickened and his strokes pushed deeper, your hand flew over your mouth, muffling a moan, then another. And before you knew it a cry was spilling into your palm as you came, toes curling in your heels, your entire body going rigid.

“Aaron,” you cried out, feeling both of his hands move to your hips, holding you in place.

“I know, honey,” he panted. “Almost there.”

He kept going, hips rutting in you as he chased the high you were still coming down from. Your cheek was pressed to the brick now, one heel slipping as your body fought to recover while he kept moving.

“Just a little more. You can take it.”

And you did, until his thrusts slowed, a series of curses lacing into your hair as he pushed himself flush against you. You felt him twitch and spill inside, his thumb tracing soft circles into your hip like a silent thank you.

He waited a minute, maybe less, before he was pulling out of you. Your brain scrambled to organise the next steps, cleaning up screaming the loudest, right before you felt Aaron’s calloused hands around your thighs, tugging your underwear back into place.

“What are you doing?” you managed, looking down as he adjusted the fabric for you.

“You’re wearing them,” he said, smoothing your dress back down over your hips. “Just like this.”

You spun to face him, watching as he fussed with his belt. “This is obscene, Aaron. I’m going to the bathroom to clean up and then I’m going home.”

“Don’t be dramatic. You’ve already made it this far and you know it’s rude to leave early.”

"You expect me to just go back out there like this?"

He slipped his jacket on and then leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. "I expect you to sit there, make conversation, and pretend you're not still full of me."

Your mouth fell open. If your mother had been there, she’d have told you to close it before a fly flew in.

Aaron smiled gently, snaking a hand around the small of your back. “You’ll be fine.”

You had no choice but to move, one foot in front of the other as Aaron held the bulky rooftop door open for you. You took the stairs down far slower than you went up them, wincing with every step. You could feel exactly what he’d left inside you beginning to leak, trickling slowly from the cotton of your panties and down the inside of your thigh.

Once you made it to the bottom you paused, glancing over your shoulder just as he reached you. “Head up, honey,” Aaron cooed. “You’re still the most put-together one at the table.”

You rolled your eyes but straightened up anyway because you’d be damned if your posture had to suffer.

Everyone looked like they hadn’t moved an inch back at the table, and Aaron, ever the gentleman, pulled your seat back. You did your best to sit in it as graciously as you could, trying to keep everything to yourself. You crossed your legs, which made it worse, so you uncrossed them. Then you sat forward. Leaned back. Nothing helped.

“Dessert menus came,” one of your friends said, sliding an embossed card your way. “But we figured we’d wait for you two.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” you smiled, still trying to get comfortable. You started reading through the options, gladly taking the distraction. And you thought, foolishly, that you might at least make it through dessert with some semblance of normalcy. That was until Aaron’s hand landed on your thigh. Again.

You stiffened, eyes snapping to him, but he was mid-conversation with someone across the table, something about funding, completely unbothered, like he wasn’t slowly trying to finger you into oblivion at the table. You moved in your seat, tring to squeeze your legs together but the pressure only made it worse, your underwear still damp and clinging across skin that was already far too sensitive.

It made no difference. He just laughed at a joke someone made, all while his fingers traced lazy patterns from your knee to the hem of your dress. Your heeled foot found his under the table, and you gave it a kick. He looked at you then, all smiley.

“Breathe,” he said quietly and entirely unhelpfully. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“You’re crazy,” you muttered, your thighs already tensing as his hand slid higher, swallowed by your dress.

His fingers pressed the soaked material of your underwear, and you dropped your head, hand coming up to your temple like you were nursing a headache. He leaned in then, nodding towards the dessert menu before whispering, “So good for me, sweetheart.”

You disguised a whimper as a cough and felt his fingers dip beneath the fabric. You bit your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.

“Listen to yourself,” he mumbled, right as he started circling your clit again. And you heard it, exactly what he was referring to. The wet sound of him mixed with your arousal, embarrassingly loud in your own ears even over the clink of cutlery and conversation. He was using one of your biggest turn-ons against you and you hated how well he knew it…hated even more how well it was working, that familiar feeling already making itself known in the pit of your stomach.

Orange was your safe word. All you had to do was mention oranges—how they’re in season, how they’re not, ask if anyone liked marmalade, hell, just casually bring up vitamin C. No one would question it. Aaron would recognise it immediately and he’d stop.

But the syllables wouldn’t come. The tip of your tongue was useless, and your brain had apparently filed for resignation. So instead you shifted in your seat, spreading your legs a little wider. You lifted your eyes to meet his, seeing what looked close to pride.

Across the table, someone asked you a question and you nodded vaguely. You hoped it was a yes or no question because you absolutely could not be trusted to speak. Your mouth was too dry, and the rest of you was, well…not.

Your hand reached for the cool glass of water, and you wrapped your fingers around it, absently smearing through the beads of condensation. But you didn’t lift it, for fear of dropping it straight into your lap and dragging every pair of eyes to exactly where Aaron’s fingers were now knuckle-deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a second too long as he fucked into you, slowly. Not enough to push you over the edge, but far too much to pretend like you were functioning normally.

“Aaron,” you breathed, eyelids heavy, forehead clammy with sweat.

“Need me to go faster?” he asked, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You nodded, focusing on the simple mechanics of breathing in and out, as if oxygen alone might be enough to hold you together. You just had to make it five more minutes. Five more minutes without gasping or moaning or knocking a water glass into your lap and revealing everything.

But then his fingers curled just right and your hips lurched forward helplessly. Aaron’s arm bumped the underside of the table, making the plates clatter and shift, not that anyone seemed to notice or if they did, they were polite enough to not comment.

You dropped your hand to your lap, nails digging crescent moons into your thigh. Someone across the table laughed, and then someone else followed. Apparently there had been an endless stream of jokes while you’d been too busy getting off on your boyfriend’s thick fingers to notice.

“Are you alright?” one of your friends asked.

“Yeah—yeah, all good.” You nodded, forcing a smile that was too tight. “Just a little hot, that’s all.”

Aaron hummed beside you, low and pleased, as though your answer had been for him and rewarded you below the table, curling his fingers deeper. You let out a sharp gasp, eyes snapping to the friend who’d asked if you were okay, checking to see if she was still watching. She wasn’t. You relaxed, only slightly, because your second orgasm was right around the corner.

You felt it in the way one of your heels had slipped off under the table, your toes curling against the floor. In the way one hand stayed pressed into your thigh, while the other clung to the edge of the table like your life depended on it.

“I’m gonna–”

“Shhh,” Aaron hushed you, leaning into your shoulder. To anyone else, it would look like the two of you were simply having a private conversation, huddled close to hear each other over the noise, leaving no clue, aside from your frantic breathing, that his hand was still buried inside you.

“I can feel you clenching around me,” he murmured. “So fucking desperate. What would they say if they knew you were dripping down my wrist right now?”

That was all it took. You were already close and he nudged you over with just a handful of syllables. Your eyes squeezed shut, like a secret you couldn’t hold anymore. Your breath left you in a wobbly exhale, and you forced your head to stay upright, even as your muscles went soft, your body completely spent.

You could still feel your pulse pounding in your ears but you blinked through the heat behind your eyes, trying to calm yourself with shallow sips of air. Aaron withdrew his hand, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“You okay?” he asked, without any trace of smugness.

You nodded, a little slow. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”

“I’ll call us a cab,” he said gently. “We’ll take the desserts to go.”

He started to stand, but your hand landed on his thigh, stopping him. “I’m going to need some help,” you muttered, partly because you were afraid your legs might give out… and partly because you weren’t brave enough to look at the state of the chair.

Aaron leaned down, placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and whispered, “Okay, honey. I’ll come get you once the car is here.”

And then he was gone, walking towards the waiter you’d had that evening while simultaneously pulling his phone from his pocket to call a cab. That gave you a ten-minute window to come up with an excuse for why you were leaving early, which, you noted with a vague sense of resignation, was just another one of your own rules you’d managed to break tonight.

You adjusted your dress, avoided looking at the chair, and mentally crossed dignity off the list of things you’d be leaving with.

At least the dessert was boxed.

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makeitworse · 2 days ago

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MR GENERAL

more older bf seungcheol hcs. 18+

⠀ ⠀WOULD YOU MAKE ME YOUR BOSS, PRETTY PLEASE?

✦ you’re always showing cheol reels and “brainrot” (he learned that one from you) slop he couldn’t understand for the life of him. you once said “what the sigma?” and he looked at you like you were speaking in tongues. still, he makes an effort, even if he picks up the lingo wrong half the time. he’ll randomly parrot slang he’d heard you say with no lead-in, just to get a reaction. you cringe more than anything, but it’s worth it since it usually earns a laugh from you— especially when he earnestly tries to learn tiktok dances with you, creaky joints and all.

✦ one father’s day, you wrote him a card that referred to him as your “old man”, signed “with love, your barely-legal baby”. it was just for the fun of it, to piss him off. it worked. he nearly choked while reading it, and your stomach hurt from laughing when he got genuinely irritated at you. cheol swore he’d burn the damn thing, but it’s still tucked into the back of his nightstand drawer. he didn’t have the heart to destroy something you made for him, even if looking at it makes him shiver.

✦ not the biggest fan of when you hang out with the younger members too long, especially when they make you laugh. you’ve never given cheol a reason to doubt you, but his mind’s prone to spiralling over these things. he’s well aware that he’s older— not the exciting, youthful guy you could have. sometimes he gets quiet after you come home from spending time with the group, like he’s trying not to let his insecurity show. but you know him better than that. and you always find a way to remind him he’s the only one you want.

✦ the world’s most prolific cuddlebug. he plays it cool in front of the others, but behind closed doors? you can’t get him off of you. cheol sleeps with an arm wrapped fully around your waist, nose buried in your neck, like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he lets go. it’s even worse when he’s tired or sick— he becomes the clingiest, grumpiest man-sized baby alive. won’t move unless it’s to pull you even closer.

✦ he never lets you open doors, never lets you pull out your own chair. he’s already there before you can even think to, hand on the handle or the backrest before you can blink. you used to tease him for being so chivalrous, but he’d just shrug like it’s second nature, saying “you shouldn’t have to lift a finger when i’m around.”

✦ for someone who tends to lay off his phone, the majority of his storage is his ridiculous amount of photos of you. candids, selfies. silly ones where you’re drooling in your sleep or messily chewing a drumstick. blurry ones you didn’t even know he took. he takes great pride in being your personal photographer; particularly over the fact that alot of your social media posts are pictures he took. cheol once admitted that he scrolls through his photo album during quick breaks at work. “you make everything else there feel boring”, he’d said with a shy smile.

✦ mixed in with the soft ones, though? a stash of very not-safe-for-work pictures and videos. you know exactly what he likes— lingerie that hugs your figure right, a sultry drip in your voice when you say his name. his personal favourites are the videos: he’s a sucker for the ones where you’re on your knees for him, cheeks hollowed out, eyes glossy and pliant. he watches them when you’re not around, desperate to feel close to your warmth with a hand wrapped tight around himself, your name under his breath.

✦ sure, you miss him often. but cheol misses you more. hell of a lot more. has to dip out of rehearsals sometimes when your texts get a little too bold— sending him a risqué photo and he’s suddenly painfully hard, pressed against the inside of his pants with no relief in sight. he’s older, sure. he tells you his stamina isn’t what it used to be. but when you touch him right, look at him with half-lidded eyes and your lower lip between your teeth? he could feel like he just turned twenty again. and he’ll keep going until you’re the one tapping out.

✦ he’s got a bad habit of getting in moods where he’s insecure about his body— especially when you’re surrounded by younger guys with flat stomachs and endless energy. he doesn’t say it outright, but you catch him glancing in the mirror with a critical eye, going out wearing baggy clothes and layered outfits. you always tell him how sexy he looks anyways. once, he wore a black compression top to the gym; about to throw a sweatshirt over it when you practically launched yourself at him. the rest of his clothes didn’t stay on for much longer after that… but he’s been wearing them more ever since.

✦ it doesn’t matter if you’re completely, 100% in the wrong— if you yelled at him, accused him, even lied— the second your voice cracks, eyes shining with tears, cheol folds. his anger evaporates, replaced by panic and guilt. can’t even remember what you were arguing about. he cups your face with both hands, voice soft and broken: “hey, no, baby. please don’t cry.” you could get cheol to do just about anything for you, if just to see you smile again.

✦ he’s in that stage of his life where marriage and family are very real potential, not just dreams saved for later. he thinks about what it would look like: how it’d feel waking up next to you every morning, little kids running around with your face. but he’d never pressure you. would never ask more of you than you’re ready to give. “don’t feel like you have to do anything,” he says one night, thumb stroking your cheek. “long as i get to keep loving you. that’s enough.” and you’d always be his number one girl anyways.

mlist · taglist 〃

@lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @namsgyu @riddlerloveb0t @ttturnitup @rafesbunniebby @nicaeno @babycaratdeul @sseungcheols @sunnysidesins @livelaughloveseventeen @nezhamoment @nervousaggressive

@cheers2hani @chocolattexyz @riyahwooahae @macheriezz @onceuponateenagetrash @choshushu @theold8 @thedragonholder @jihooniesss @markkiatocafe @channieschubbycake @okinawwa @cheers2hani @accalus @hhwksixjshs @priisprii @wenhuihuii @t-bag2 @natalicss

#seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seunghyun x you #choi seungcheol #seventeen x you #scoups x reader #s.coups x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader

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nhmkhnh · 2 days ago

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ib this post || very love the idea! (p/s: one person for each scenario.)

jinx x f!reader | powder x f!reader || suggestive ;; loser!jinx/powder ;; bad bitch vibey!reader ;; implying dom!jinx/powder.

jinx

you don’t even look at her. just toss the words over your shoulder while fixing your lipstick.

“go get my drink, baby.”

jinx freezes mid-chew, eyes wide, halfway through a bag of chips she stole from someone else’s locker. then she launches into motion like she’s been drafted. the chips scatter everywhere. she salutes. actually salutes.

“yes, ma’am! you want ice or—fuck it, i’m getting three kinds just in case.”

she’s gone before you can answer. sprinting. shoving a vending machine open with her foot. mumbling “bad bitch said bad bitch said bad bitch said” like it’s a prayer under her breath.

the other people in the room stare.

you sigh, deadpan. “she’s in love.”

jinx returns in under sixty seconds, breathless, three different bottles in her hands, one slightly dented like she punched someone for it. she holds them up like sacred offerings.

“i didn’t know if you wanted sweet, sour, or that fizzy lemon shit that makes your eyes twitch but you still drink it anyway ‘cause you’re weird and sexy.”

you finally turn around, arch a brow. “you got it right. gimme that one.”

she makes a sound that isn’t even a word. just a happy dying noise.

“anything else?” she blurts, hopeful. “step on me? yell at me? break my spine?”

you take your drink. sip slow. smirk.

“later.”

she nods so hard her goggles fall off.

jinx is trying so hard to act cool.

she’s got one hand pressed against the wall beside your head like this is a movie scene, voice dipping low and raspy as she says something cocky—something meant to sound dominant, threatening. but her hand’s shaking. her pupils are wide. she’s sweating. just from the way you look at her.

“you really think you can handle me, pretty girl?” she breathes, like she’s the one in control.

you smirk, not moving an inch. “you’re stuttering, babe.”

“i’m not—shut up,” jinx hisses, her whole face turning red as she grabs your jaw. but your smile just widens, lips parted on purpose, eyes lazy like you want her to crack.

“oh, so hot when you pretend,” you purr, voice syrup-slow and mean. “gonna shake through your own strap again, baby?”

her breath catches. you see her knees go weak for a second. one second. and that’s all you need.

you lean in, lips brushing her ear. “you can’t dom me, jinx. you beg too pretty.”

she slams you back against the wall a second later, teeth bared, panting like she’s feral. “shut up.”

but even when she finally growls out, “hands behind your back. now,” she sounds more like she’s praying than commanding. desperate. flushed. obsessed.

and you? you only obey ‘cause it’s fun watching her lose it.

powder

you tilt your head, barely glancing her way. “powder. bag. now.”

you don’t say please. you don’t need to.

and powder—who had been fiddling with something dangerous and half-exploded—snaps upright like she’s in a military parade. eyes wide. shoulders back. chest puffed out.

she salutes. actually salutes.

“yes, boss! right away, ma’am—uh—baby—general—fuck—yes.” she stumbles over her words like she’s choking on devotion. grabs the bag in one hand and nearly trips over the table bringing it to you like she’s carrying holy treasure.

you blink. “…i meant my purse.”

“oh.”

a beat.

“want me to throw this one out the window then?”

you stare at her. she stares back, dead serious, one foot already lifting like she’s about to yeet a whole duffel bag full of tools out the window.

you sigh. “no, powder.”

she softens instantly. shoulders drop. little smile.

“okay. just say the word next time though.”

you sip your drink, then, slowly: “sit. stay.”

she shudders. drops into the chair like it was a commandment from god. her fingers twitch like she wants to bark just to amuse you.

you don’t even look at her after that.

and she sits there grinning at the floor, kicking her legs like a love-struck delinquent, muttering under her breath, “best. day. ever.”

powder thinks she’s terrifying. thinks the half-glove, the tool belt, the quiet little “i could break you if i wanted” mutters between gritted teeth mean something to you.

but you just tilt your head, cock a brow, and purr, “then do it.”

her breath stops.

you watch her eyes flicker—lip twitching, nostrils flaring like she’s trying so hard to stay in control. “don’t—don’t test me,” she says, voice shaking. she looks so small trying to loom over you. so desperate to feel big.

you press your fingers to your own mouth and fake a gasp. “oh no. is scary little powder gonna tie me up with zip ties again?”

“shut up,” she snaps—but her voice cracks at the end. she likes when you push her. she lives for it.

you lean forward slowly, mouth brushing her cheek, whispering just loud enough for her to ache: “baby, you can’t even touch me without shaking.”

her hand slams beside your head, and this time it’s trembling.

you grin.

and she’s breathing so hard now. like if she doesn’t pin you down in the next five seconds, she’ll combust. like she needs to prove herself to the girl who already lives rent-free in her head.

“turn around,” she whispers.

you don’t.

you just smile, lashes low. “make me.”

and god, she tries.

#jinx x reader #powder x reader #jinx arcane #powder arcane #arcane

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omaano · 1 day ago

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SW Hades AU MAY-JUNE Update

Some links and previous updates: May - June - July - August - September - October/November - December - January - February - March-April - everything else in this AU

Would you look at that! I managed to put together an update post with more than just May the 4th Boba :D Happy Pride, happy last days of June, and please enjoy the fact that I finally added 2 more ladies to the Hades AU. Full renders will come.... eventually ^^; I feel like I'm really super overdue to one though...

We're making this a girls thing >:3

I've drawn a younger, cockier Boba in the style of Hades 2 (instead of the usual Hades (1)) for May the 4th, because I am very much obsessed with the game and I desperately wanted to draw Boba again.

It's been deeply unfair to him that I had drawn him way back in 2022 (Jesus Christ! am I taking my sweet time) and never again ever since in this style. But when he wears it so well!

I also have a surprise Leia! And Satine as well!

If you recall I'd had the hardest of time for months to come up with anything for Leia, which I can only partially blame on whatever shape of artblock/burnout/exhaustion I had been feeling recently. Then one night - BAM! I was just messing around, looking at pose references on my pinterest boards and sketching and all, and suddenly I had a "businesswoman in a rush between meetings not having enough time for your shit" pose and look for her that I was very happy with. Might have been shortly after I watched (and had a great time while doing it) The Phantom Menace. Or the end of Andor. One of these two.

Originally I wanted her to appear as if she was on a holo call with Din, projected by R2, because she is busy and in a rush (like Hermes), but I'm undecided if I will want to go through with that in the end. Mainly because I'm not very thrilled by the idea of having to draw a portrait for R2 as well for that.

I also had a surprisingly great time coming up with a getup for her!

I believe that I finally started slipping along the double edged sword of how it's both a hindrance and liberation that I don't have to come up with character designs of my own for this AU to most characters. It takes a lot of pressure off me that I can treat this as a style and coloring exercise, but at the same time it's very limiting. I think I have already bemoaned how Star Wars character designs can be so grey and same-y at times (especially in the Outer Rim, and seriously, why is everyone so blue? Or black and grey) whereas Hades is so beautifully and colorfully designed!

I did a tiny bit of research on Wookiepedia - nothing major, as this was still just a past-midnight-waste-some-time sketch - and set out to merge some design and wardrobe elements from Breha, Bail and General Organa. If you can make out my handwritten notes, you might see some of these design elements, and to whom they shall refer to (like the bracers and belt to Bail, the braids and bun for Breha and Leia's own future). Ultimately more of the "Bail" elements won out if you wanted to weigh them against each other. I feel like that would fit Leia, her fierceness, and pragmatic strictness and determination best.

I'm a little regretful about the veil, but I worried that it would be too much flowy fabric next to her sleeves/cape. Very sad.

So it really was a relief to get into some designing with Leia, and to add some more colors and intricate details to Satine.

I don't have that much more to say about Boba and Satine tbh. Mostly because Boba is still a bit of a miracle I'm still unsure how he happened and how he looks so good (although not shiny enough compared to the latest update of Hades2 where all the gods, and really all the characters, are suuuuuper shiny. like. seriously). While with Satine my only goal was to make her look less willow-y (because it drives me insane how everyone in TCW is so damn thin), and might have fallen off on the other side of the horse (I'm pretty sure that's not the actual English idiom, please excuse me), and she's got some real massive shoulders and sleeves XD also how does she keep her head up with all that on her head? ^^;

Anyways, I love her with all her faults, and I just really wanted her to look beautiful and sad, and Mandalorian, and let her wear beskar heart elements in her design.

Taglist of anyone who wants to be pinged once a month for these updates <3 If you want to be added to the list send me a message, or just reply to this post (a 👀 would do, nothing fancy required ;))

@elwinged @yeehawgeek @velsayshi @lionsaint @hastalavistabyebye

@ribbonkandy @nalase @schrodingers-cosmic-abomination

If you want to be taken off the list just message me and I’ll take you off, no hard feelings :)

#my art #hades au #hades au update #boba fett #satine kryze #leia organa #star wars fanart #star wars #hades style #digital art #wip

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fiendishfinesse · 2 days ago

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𝕽𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘 (+21)

In honor of sinday, I tried to compile a few of my nasty headcanons. Enjoy and I'm very sorry.

He is submissive only to Haarlep because, in his mind, he’s submitting to an idealised version of himself (archduke/archduchess). He is far too prideful to be submissive, though there are a few exceptions. You’re more likely to get him to submit if you’re a woman.

He treats Haarlep like a fucktoy, making him an awful bed partner for the incubus. He remains lazy, a true pillow princess, while Haarlep does all the work. Once he climaxes, he simply tosses the incubus aside and goes to sleep.

As a centuries-old devil, he can be a masterful pleaser, especially when trying to ensnare more resistant clients.

He may climax quickly, but he possesses considerable stamina. Multiple rounds, insatiable appetite.

His otherwise impeccable composure breaks easily during sex, especially before climax: hungry, needy, a slobbering mess with disheveled hair.

His semen is hot and plentiful. Wyvern whiskey.

For him, seduction is rarely physical. The dance begins long before the bedroom, it's a game of conquest, a challenge.

In fact, before he even gets naked, he may please you a few times--just to taste your need, to strengthen your craving for his cock. Perhaps playing with you on his lap, or slipping a leg between your thighs as you make out.

He isn’t the type for one-night stands. He far prefers to toy with his prey over time, indulging in a long cat-and-mouse game. It's far more satisfying to bring them to their knees after the chase. He is patient.

He has exceptionally high standards. If he must seduce a client who doesn't meet them, he’ll simply toss the unfortunate soul to Haarlep.

Unsurprisingly, he loves being worshipped and feeling needed, but he derives the most pleasure from taming defiant, bratty types. “I much prefer a cat.”

He practices “free use” with his pets. His toys must be ready to be used sexually at any moment, even if he wants to be pleased while reading a book and ignoring them entirely. Sometimes, the devil appears from the flames in your home while you're cooking--because he needs it now.

He commissions or makes people perform pornographic theatre for him to jerk off to. Theatre kid, but make it horny. There are probably musical numbers. lmao

He’s exceptionally skilled at reading people. He knows who needs a gentle master, and who craves to be treated like a rabid dog. He can make you feel like royalty or ruin you.

He’s not naturally tender, but if you stroke his hair, he might just purr. It’s his soft spot.

Speaking of tenderness, if you find yourself being gently caressed, held, or cared for by Raphael, you should know: He sees you more as a cute little pet than anything else.

He adores scent. A particularly nice perfume can arouse him.

True affection is foreign to him, but he understands the utility of aftercare as a manipulation tool. Mortals are fragile, after all.

A possessive lover. You’re his, until he gets bored.

Outside the bedroom, his kisses are charming, almost sweet. Inside? He may drool on you like a starving mutt tearing into meat.

Yes, his tail can be used to whip or penetrate.

Edging excites him. Grinding while clothed? Even more so.

He loves watching Haarlep fuck people while using his form and jerking off to it. In general, he quite enjoys being in a voyeuristic position. He might ask you to masturbate for him or something like that.

If he’s in a submissive position, he likes it rough.

Corruption kink. Breeding kink. Pet play.

He sees himself as a master manipulator, and that’s his flaw. He underestimates people. Sometimes, he doesn’t realize he’s the one being played, especially when flattered or shown false loyalty. Haarlep excels at this, distracting Raphael for centuries and subtly making him more submissive and attached in the process.

He enjoys fucking mortals in his devil form. The size difference and power imbalance arouse him.

He implies a sadistic sexual tendency in game (“I prefer my liquor served in a quivering belly button, distilled in fear and arousal.”) He enjoys the power dynamics of being simultaneously feared and desired.

So, the following items will be more sadistic and possibly triggering, kindly beware, my lovelies! :) kisses love you all

also, this list may grow gradually over time

!!! 𝖘𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘 – DDNE: !!!

He enjoys it when they struggle, but loves it more when they break. When fear and desire intertwine. When they think they love him.

He detests rejection and doesn’t like it when someone resists taming for too long. If manipulation fails, he may resort to violence. Misbehave too much, and you might find yourself on the hook. (Just ask poor Hope.)

It’s hard to make him stop if he starts. You know, if you change your mind mid-sex. He will chase his pleasure at all costs.

He’s not as merciless or sadistic as his father, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

#ic — [ raphael's stage ]#tw:nsft — [ infernal indulgences ]#raphael headcanons — [ devil's little secrets ]#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tw nsft #tw noncon #tw dubcon #dddne #raphael the cambion #cw nsft

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saetiate · 3 days ago

Note

wait that post u rbed... who do u think would be like the absolute worst to try and divorce

og post by saintshigaraki and sorry that this is getting answered like 3 months later it was stuck in my drafts

kaiser and reo i think but i’ll go through the ones i’m thinking of aka: sae, kaiser, reo, nagi, oliver, hiori, shidou.

i think reo has the potential to be very frightening in general. he has to take into account the Optics aspect as well in a divorce. he is football player and major corporation CEO and insanely popular socially and he’s very aware of people’s perceptions of him. that alone makes this very risky and this is not even yet taking into account his love for you.

he himself does not think you could realistically leave him because he’s got you tied up in at least 3 different contracts and all your bank accounts and phone packages and everything is under him. he’s very sure there’s nowhere you can go where he can’t track you. reo is much more prepared for this than anyone else, not emotionally but financially and in the sense of tracking you wherever you go. he’s already always done this. so he’s not scared of it happening, he’s just worried about you. "are you okay, baby? what do you need?" that kind of energy. but you can try. unfortunately money does buy a lot of things. everywhere keeps rejecting you, both houses and jobs. you stay with a friend but you eventually feel bad about being there for so long. you try to do something on your own and all your accounts get shut down. where else are you going to go?

for kaiser, if he feels a contract is the last thing that is tying you to him then he is holding that contract so tightly. i fully think kaiser would actually jail you into the house like he’s so crazy in a divorce situation. overnight all the door locks are the other way round. you have to somehow know him well enough to know he’ll do this so you have to pretend everything is fine without him noticing (level 1000 difficulty) and then just dip. and then he’ll tear the whole world open to find you. you’ll never get divorced but genuinely this might be the only way to be rid of him. you will never be able to go anywhere without being extra careful — no social media, pay with cash only, watch out for security cameras. @haruchiyos talks about this better and more than i could

sae won’t take you seriously if he thinks you’re just angry and might brush it off the first time round. but if you’re really genuine and calm about it he gets a little scared i think. he’s like you want this? really? and he loves you so he wants what you want a lot of the time but if he can truly see you being happier without him... he wants what’s best for you even if it’s this. but the despair is crazy. he will try every other solution before this but if he can really see you being happier without him, you could. it’s hard to get there though like what can someone provide for you that he can’t provide better? he’ll shoot all your problems down logically. sae is not a talker but for this he’ll talk it out. very pragmatic man imo

i think nagi is surprisingly bad at taking it. he’s usually relaxed about what you do to the point where you might even think he doesn’t care. you’ve never seen him so serious and he genuinely cages you into the countertop with his whole body. you have never seen him as threatening as in this moment where he's actually afraid you'll leave. you’re not leaving the house until he’s satisfied you’re not even considering it anymore. nagi is very sure anything u need can be worked out and will give in to whatever request you have

for oliver it's kind of akin to the five stages of grief. you're the one time he actually ever felt safe and secure in a relationship and you're deciding to ruin that. he says no at every turn. refuses to hear you out about this. also like nagi a very scary man and cages you in with his body because he has to capture you now. and then after this he’s switching up and going “whatever the problem is we can fix it” and trying to coax u into talking to him, like sae and hiori will do his best to come up w real solutions but he’s much more emotional about it. also tries to use sex to fix the issue since he knows that’s the one thing he’s good at. like kaiser u have to somehow leave before he catches wind that you want to in order for this to work. if you manage to do this, oliver would probably say some shit like if you want to divorce you have to come see me in person. see me and then i’ll sign. you see him. he doesn’t sign.

hiori similar to sae makes you talk it out w him. hiori is much more calm about it even if internally he’s going crazy. hears you out and affirms your every word and then solves every problem OR talks you in circles until you don’t even wanna bring it up anymore. if you're too adamant about it he'll very clinically sprain your ankle which user lorelune has written about

shidou gets this wide eyed look and similar to hiori is immediately sitting you down and taking in everything you have to say and hearing you out. most serious you've ever seen him. the hug that he wraps you in is tight. “whatever it is, we can work it out. we can do whatever you want. just not this” says it right into your ear. he’s so calm and scared all at once i think it’s pretty impossible that you don’t give in to him

if there's another chara you can come ask me about it ahaha

#thank you to user saintshigaraki for sexualizing divorce on the dash we love to see it #i know this q has been answered by few other ppl already so if there's any issues pls feel free to dm me #u can also send me another ask if there's a chara i missed #message in a bottle: ask #message in a bottle: anon #oliver is like the most valid crashout to me actually like ahaha #sorry this got so long i don't get asks like this too often ahaha so many thoughts !#fragments of memories: daydream #fragments: bllk #x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

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silentcaps · 24 hours ago

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They found out someone hurt you

tags: hurt/comfort, reader trauma, protective partner

cast: cyno, razor, scaramouche x fem!reader

tw: emotional distress, implied harassment

side b: barbara, diluc, itto

CYNO

His colleagues glance at him and smile — like they already know everything. Even the things he doesn’t. Cyno is surprised that bits and pieces of the situation reach him through work chatter, the noise of the Grand Bazaar, and even from patrols deep in the forest — but never from you. It’s as if you don’t trust him enough to share your troubles. And even if that thought cuts deeper than he lets on, Cyno respects your choice and doesn’t bring it up himself. Instead, to keep from overthinking and spiraling, he throws himself into tracking the perpetrator — a real hunt. After all, no one escapes justice when it comes from the General Mahamatra.

Still, he can’t avoid the subject entirely. When he sees you again, he mentions that the criminal has been caught, hoping it’ll bring you some relief. But what he sees instead is pain flickering across your face — and that stuns him.

“Did I do something wrong? Should I not have gotten involved?”

He doesn’t understand your reaction. Maybe he should’ve stayed close, offered comfort instead? But it seemed like you were keeping the issue from him on purpose — to process it in your own space and time.

“I thought… it would hurt your reputation. You care about it so much…”

When Cyno hears the anxious thoughts you’ve been wrestling with all this time, something shifts. He cups your cheeks, catches your gaze, and says with quiet certainty:

“No, of course not… I wouldn’t turn my back on you just to protect my reputation. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Though not someone used to touch, Cyno opens his arms for you — and doesn’t let go until you’re the one to pull away.

RAZOR

Raised by the laws of the wild, Razor doesn’t quite understand why what happened has shaken you so deeply. But he tries to comfort you. Slowly, step by step, he moves closer and tilts his head, gently nudging your shoulder like a she-wolf nuzzling her pup. The silence that follows — your total lack of response — unsettles him more than anything else in the world. A low whine, full of frustration at his own helplessness, escapes from his chest. Razor curls up at your feet, keeping just enough distance to not intrude, but refusing to leave your side. Whatever caused this pain doesn’t matter to him right now. What matters is that you’re hurting. And he’s made it his duty to bring back your sunshine smile and that voice that rings like a bell.

Later, Razor goes to Lisa with questions. After a patient and thorough explanation, after the truth settles in, his fists clench until his knuckles turn white, and his teeth grind together. He grabs his claymore, ready to tear the whole city apart if that’s what it takes to find the monster responsible. He doesn’t fully understand why, but the image of someone’s hands touching you without your permission drives him insane. There’s nothing he can do about it — not directly — but Lisa promises to look into it and talk to Jean to make sure no one else gets hurt.

He returns to your home. The curtains are drawn, everything’s untouched, and you’re buried under heavy blankets. It’s clear you haven’t left your room or eaten all day. Razor sits on the edge of the bed to let you know he’s there, and in a voice cracked with emotion, he says the only thing that feels right:

“I only have Lupical. I protect my Lupical. No one hurt. I fight for Lupical. Keep safe. I want make you feel good. Food gives strength. Makes happy. I make meat. Tasty smell.”

SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche doesn’t deal well with tears. During arguments, the moment he notices them, he either sends you away or walks off himself. It doesn’t make him a terrible person — some emotions just hit too hard and leave him feeling powerless.

“Calm down and explain it properly, I can’t make sense of your whining.”

That line comes up a lot. Not because he wants to hurt you — but because that’s how he tries to get to the point and help. Fix the problem. Give you money. Beat someone up. But not offer soft words. And definitely not hugs.

But today is different. Your cheeks are soaked in tears, and you don’t even seem to notice. You’re staring off, empty. Scaramouche forces himself to step closer. He asks what happened. And as he pieces together the broken parts of your story, something inside him snaps. Some pathetic insect thought they had the right to touch you — the parts of you that belong to him, wholly and without question.

Between shaky breaths, you confess that you can still feel it — those touches clinging to your skin like filth that won’t wash off.

“Show me where.”

His cool, familiar fingers follow wherever you point. He presses, massages, grounding you with each motion. Then he leans in and kisses every inch of skin you marked, slow and deliberate — replacing the memory of someone else's hands with his own, painting over it, erasing it.

“Imagine it’s only me touching you. Nothing else. No one else.”

He’ll find the bastard later — drag them out from under the earth if he has to — but right now, helping you is all that matters.

#genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #razor x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact

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leggerefiore · 2 days ago

Note

do you think.. the dragons' horns are sensitive...

yes a bit lol

cw: 18+ content, suggestive

characters: Longan, Pitaya, Ananas, Lotus, Lychee

👁Longan Dragon Cookie🌟

To be allowed to touch the Ivory Dragon's horn is an honour like no other. No one else is allowed to, and even daring to may result in a grizzly end. The length and shape of the horn may seem quite odd – more like the limbs of a tree than anything else. But, you were allowed. It was welcome, in fact. Such a thing was reserved almost solely for a mate's touch. And you were Longan's mate.

The horn feels like wood under your touch, ridges much bark. The dragon's eyes are squeezed close – a rarity – as you let your hand travel the length of it. They seem to be holding their breath. You explore the horn curiously, utterly fascinated by how it was shaped. Longan lets you do as you please. Until – suddenly – a clawed hand caught your wrist and put an end to your actions. Their eyes had opened once more. All six, including the dragon eyes, gazed at you intently. A dark colour bloomed on their cheeks. “… You do not seem to recall what this leads into,” they spoke, “… Perhaps I should remind you.”

You were carried to their nest. Nothing more was said.

🗡Pitaya Dragon Cookie🍉

There had not been a soul that grasped their horns and lived to tell the tale. Pitaya was far too protective – much more than they were over their tail. Though, granted, you were allowed to. Now, it was a bit hard to see them, but they were a part of their helmet. Really, it would have been weird to deny you the right to touch their horns. It was commonplace with mates… even if you did not have any for them to grasp in turn.

The horns were warm, much like the rest of them. The tips were sharp enough to gore – a reminder that they could also be used in combat situations, but thankfully that never really seemed to come to pass. Your gentle prodding and grasping made the dragon groan. Suddenly, you were on the ground with the Red Dragon hovering above you. “That'sss enough…” they hissed, “Let'sss get on with it.”

Alas, the dragon had not actually informed you that the horns were sensitive in all the strangest ways.

🍍Ananas Dragon Cookie🏖

It was rare the Golden Dragon let anyone touch them – much less such an intimate part of them. Their horns were a little difficult to distinguish in their mortal form, too. A certain headpiece enhanced the look of their horns. But, of course, you were an exception. Their beloved mate was allowed to do whatever they pleased. Really, horn touching was an important mating activity.

The horn was oddly warm to the touch, but nonetheless smooth. Ananas's eyes close as you trace a finger to the tip before running it back down to the base. The way they just run into their scalp so naturally was fascinating. As you brought your other hand to grasp the second horn, clawed hands grasped your waist. Your attention went to their face, where flushed cheeks caught your attention prominently. “My darling,” their voice was low and raspy, “I need… more…” Your waist was pressed down into their lap.

A panted breath and lips pressing to your own answered any further confusion. Intimate really meant intimate.

🪷Lotus Dragon Cookie🌊

Their horns were not exactly overly visible in their mortal form. Mostly because their flower was on their head, but it was the “leaves” to the flower. Next to no one was allowed to touch them in general, so anyone in range to touch their horns likely knew better than to do so. Now, of course, you were allowed to touch them as you pleased. They would not be so cruel as to deny their mate such a thing. Your curiosity was adorable, in fact.

They were definitely hard, but still held an oddly plant-like feeling. Your fingers trod the curves and shape curiously. They disappeared under the lotus, but you dared not touch. A glance at the Blue Dragon's face revealed darkened cheeks and lidded eyes. Suddenly, you were pulled down and held to them. “Enough, my treasure,” their voice was low, “… Let us go to our quarters to continue.”

It was only then you learnt that dragon horns were extremely sensitive. Perhaps, even worse than the flower itself.

💜Lychee Dragon Cookie🍇

This dragon did not mind touch – but they really did not allow more than what they felt they wanted. Horns were a no-go. No matter how much interest was expressed by mortals that they were using, they denied it. But, you? Weeeeell, Lychee supposed this was a different circumstance. A really different one. It was normal for mates to touch horns, so to Lychee you were finally accepting your place at their side. A giggle could only leave them.

In the mortal form, their horns were not too big, alas. The two little nubs on their forehead were what became of their horns. Even still, you curiously felt the area. It was fascinating how the hardened skin still held a certain softness to it. You even pinched it, which made the dragon cry out. Suddenly, Lychee threw you to the ground and crawled atop you. Their cheeks flushed. “Alright,” their clawed hands found the bottom of your shirt, “Let's get onto the main event, kyahaha!”

Lychee enjoyed your bewilderment about what horn touching actually was.

#cookie run x reader #longan dragon cookie x reader #pitaya dragon cookie x reader #ananas dragon cookie x reader #lotus dragon cookie x reader #lychee dragon cookie x reader #longan dragon x reader #pitaya dragon x reader #ananas dragon x reader #lotus dragon x reader #lychee dragon x reader #cookie run/reader #nastystuff

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v6quewrlds · 3 days ago

Note

what are justin and his angel girl doing rn <3

author's note⠀⁎⠀they're visiting her parents!

read more⠀⁎⠀justin herbert masterlist / series masterlist.

Initially, her five-day trip back home seemed like a good idea. Ever since moving to Los Angeles for residency, she had only been home a handful of times. Dating Justin had only decreased the opportunities she had to go home, considering that almost any chance she could afford to get away, she preferred following her boyfriend to his hometown instead of making the trip back home.

It didn’t take a savant to notice how she generally avoided going home. The walls of her parents’ house held too many memories of her childhood, of the countless hours she had spent trying to be the daughter they wanted her to be, which she had never quite managed to achieve. Though she knew they loved her more than anything, she had come to accept that it was better to love her parents from a distance. Her relationship with them was complicated, a tangled web of expectations and misunderstandings that had only become more pronounced since she’d chosen vet school over medical school.

She generally avoided spending lengthy periods at her parents’ home. So the four-day stay didn’t seem all that bad when she’d agreed to it. But three days in, she was feeling claustrophobic.

Justin had offered to go with her, not because he felt she needed protection from her own family, but because he knew she’d need his support. He had picked up on the strain in his girlfriend’s relationship with her parents, the reserved tone she took on during the pre-scheduled weekly phone calls, and the way she’d sometimes sigh heavily when talking about her hometown. He couldn’t say he understood the ins and outs of it, but he knew enough to realize that this trip wasn’t like the carefree weekends she loved to spend with his family in Oregon. If the heaviness of her shoulders in the week leading up to the trip was any indication, he knew she was dreading it.

When they crossed over the threshold of her childhood home, he noted the way her shoulders squared, the tightness that took up residence around her mouth, and the way she clung to him just a beat too long during the introductions. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he made sure she stayed glued to his side, his hand resting comfortably on her shoulder or slung over the top of the couch to cushion her head. It wasn’t as close as either of them would like to be, but it was a small token of his support that she seemed to appreciate.

Justin had charmed his way into her parents’ hearts, playing the role of the perfect boyfriend with a gentle touch of humor that had even managed to coax a few laughs from her stone-faced mother. He went golfing with her father on Friday, shopped for furniture with her mother on Saturday, and even sat through church with them on Sunday without batting an eye. Through it all, he had made sure to be respectful of their space and beliefs, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by her parents.

From the first night, Justin seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else. He offered to sleep in the guest room, taking the initiative to ask her mother if it was alright for him to sleep on the sheets she’d so meticulously prepared. The gesture was appreciated, but she couldn’t help the disappointment that swelled in her chest. Justin was a gentleman above all else. Considerate, respectful, and attentive. It was understandably the most attractive thing about him.

But she was also understandably annoyed.

She had been working herself up to putting her foot down on that front, insisting that she was an adult, and that they had every right to share a room. She had mentally prepared her arguments and was ready to face the allegations of ‘living in sin’. But Justin’s offer swept that chance away from her, leaving her with nothing but a few hours of stolen kisses and a long embrace before bed. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his as his hands found her waist. When her father passed by on his way to bed, he thankfully looked the other way, clapping a hand onto Justin’s shoulder with a gruff, “Good night, son.”

The first night was tolerable. Though she wished she had his warmth beside her in the cold bed where she hadn’t slept in years, the exhaustion of travel claimed her quickly. The second and third nights were harder. She tossed and turned, and briefly considered sneaking down to the guest room. But the fear of being caught was too great. Her thoughts raced with scenarios that would only lead to embarrassment and uncomfortable mornings after. So she suffered through it, swallowed it down, and hoped the next two days would fly by.

When she woke from her sleep on the fourth morning, she was beyond irritated. In the year that she and Justin had been together, she had grown accustomed to having him right beside her, his arm thrown over her waist, his breath ghosting across her neck. But here she was, lying in the cold embrace of her childhood bed, with a frustrating gap between her and the comfort she craved.

She checked the clock, noticing it was just before eight. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. The note on the kitchen counter was surely a gift from above.

Out for our couples’ group + brunch with the Gardeners. Back after noon.

She checked the clock over the oven, the digital display glowing red in the early morning light, the time read 7:43 AM. Four hours. That’s how long they had to themselves before her parents returned. Four hours of uninterrupted time where she could just be. No forced smiles, no awkward conversations, and no need to sneak around.

The door to the guest bedroom creaked softly as she tiptoed down the hallway, the plush carpet muffling her bare feet. She pushed the door open and saw the silhouette of Justin on the bed, the early sun casting a warm glow around him. He looked so peaceful, sprawled out on the queen-sized bed with the crisp white sheets tangled around his waist. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, her frustration momentarily forgotten.

Gingerly, she climbed into the bed, the mattress sighing softly beneath her. She leaned over him, her breath fanning out across his bare back. She placed a soft kiss to the base of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath her lips. Her hands traced the lines of his shoulders, down the groove of his spine, and back up to comb through the unruly hair that stuck out in every direction. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. The moment they landed on her, a sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice gruff with the remnants of sleep.

She echoed his sleepy greeting, her fingers tangled in the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck as she leaned down to kiss the moles scattered like stars across his face. His jaw was prickly with the beginnings of a stubble, a sign he hadn’t shaved the night before. She had missed this, missed the way he smelled, the way his skin felt against hers, the way he moved onto his back to secure her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

“I might be dreaming, but if I am, don’t wake me up,” Justin mumbled into the delicately calm morning air, his eyes still closed as he held her closer. Instinctively, his hands crept under her sleep shirt, feeling her skin warm and smooth. He inhaled deep and long, savoring the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the lingering aroma of the fabric softener her mother used.

Her laugh was a soft twinkle, her breath brushing against his neck. “You’re not dreaming. They’re gone for brunch. Won’t be back until noon.”

She placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before sitting up and straddling him. Her thighs spread on either side of his hips, her palms flat against his lower abdomen. He felt the heat from her core as it pressed against his morning erection. “Just us for the next four hours.”

Justin hummed lowly as if in thought before a smirk curled his lips. He reached up to cup her cheeks, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw as he pulled her closer for a more thorough kiss, one that was slow and lingering, full of the frustration accumulating from the time they had been denied.

“What did you have in mind?” Justin asked between kisses, truly beginning to wake up to the delicious situation laid before them.

“Everything,” she breathed out softly, her attention shifting to her hands on his chest, tracing the firm planes and feeling the beat of his heart beneath her palms. “I was gonna say something the first night, but you kind of beat me to it with the whole guest room offer.”

Justin’s smile grew as he sat up, his arms fully wrapping her tightly in his hold. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin before returning to her lips with a gentle nip that had her melting.

“Oh,” he remarked, his eyes darting to the guest room door that was slightly open. “You were planning to sneak in here?” His dull green gaze returned to her face, taking in the way her curls framed her face.

She shook her head, her eyes drifting away from his eyes to settle on his full lips. “I was going to tell my parents we would share a room, but when you offered to stay in here, I didn’t want to make it awkward.”

Justin’s thumb traced her bottom lip, the pad of his thumb sliding gently against the softness of her mouth. He knew her well, knew that she tended to avoid the big arguments with her parents. He hoped that by offering, he would have saved her from the potential conflict.

“I’m sorry, angel,” Justin whispered, his eyes searching hers for any signs of lingering upset with him. “I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

She leaned in to kiss him again, her body arching to press against his. “Don’t apologize. It’s probably better this way. They like you, and I know that’s important to you. I can handle one more night of this.”

“Did you sleep any better last night?” Justin asked, his hands warming her sides as he felt her shiver against him.

“No, not really,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent up close. “But it’s not your fault. I promise I’m not upset.”

“Door’s open, baby,” Justin muttered against her skin. “Should close it just in case.”

She considered his words for a moment before sighing, her body sliding off his. She padded over to the door and pushed it shut before turning the lock with a soft click.

#&. justin x vet!reader: blurbs.#&. justin.#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert x black reader #justin herbert x black!reader

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soulsmake · 3 days ago

Note

Will the other participants be able to talk to one other, beside their soulmate and maybe before the official making off the aus will start?

If so, could two diffrent pairs of soulmates make a team of themselfs and work together?

Sorry if this ask dosen't make any sense, English is not my first leanguage, but I really tried my best, hope it's enough😅

Great questions!

1. Yeah! The event will be run through a discord server, and participants will receive the link as soon as they sign up. There will be plenty of time to chat before soulmates are event rolled—someone who signs up day one will have about three weeks to chat in the discord before soulmates are even rolled!

We have a few of general chatting channels as well as channels for sharing art, writing, wips, and asking for feedback. (We’re also open to suggestions for channels!)

This event is about making friends, so if you make more friends than just your soulmate, that would be lovely.

2. We don’t mind if two pairs team up, though we’d have some small caveats.

First, all four members of the team would have to agree to pair up for their AU making.

Second, we want people to work with creators they’ve never worked with before, so you can’t team with a pair that includes any of your usual creative partners.

Third, try not to abandon your assigned soulmate for one or both members of the other pair—we don’t want anyone feeling left out.

(These rules are being made on the fly in the mod chat in response to this ask, so by event time they may end up changing slightly if we think of anything else)

#soulsmake #soulsmake qna

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half-of-a-gay · 14 hours ago

Note

Hi. Can you please write Ambessa x female reader? Where reader has a crush on Ambessa, but when she was ready to confess her feelings she saw that another girl asked Ambessa out on a date, so reader just stopped trying to reach the woman she loves. And then turns out that Ambessa actually loves reader too and when reader doesn't expect anything Ambessa confesses her feelings to reader.

I hope that you will understand what I wrote. Thanks in advance.

[A/N: Hi! I decided to combine two requests for this one because they kind of gave the same vibe and i just thiught they fit perfectly together. Hope you guys don't mind. Thank you for sending the requests I really liked your ideas]

Here's the other request, it's from @bbybhr: "HI~ First of all I ADORE YOUR WRITING STYLE second can I request an ambessa x fem reader with the "love triangle " trope? Perhaps a slow burn or hurt comfort when you love ambessa but she's in love with someone else? With a happy ending :") please and thank u in advance ♡"

You met Ambessa Medarda in the middle of a war. Or rather, at the end of one.

There was ash on your boots and dirt under your fingernails when she first looked at you like you were something more than a soldier. That look from Ambessa Medarda was rare, scarecely anyone has the privilege of experiencing it.

You fell in love with her long before she even knew your name.

For weeks, you fought beside her - though "beside" might be generous. You were a tactician’s assistant, a minor position, far from her inner circle. Still, you watched her from afar: tall, commanding, enveloped in armor that gleamed in the light. She carried herself like she could crush kingdoms in her bare hands and maybe she could, but you were more struck by the rare moments when she didn't seem made of steel. Like all those late nights when sleep evaded her and you caught her staring at the stars like they owed her all the answers.

You loved her quietly, devotedly, but from a distance. As one loves a myth made flesh.

You had almost told her once.

Your hand had hovered at the tent flap when the audacity to voice your devotion came over you. You had the words in your mouth, on the tip of your tongue - soft and clumsy and full of hope.

And then-

“Ambessa,” a voice giggled. A woman. A stunning, young diplomat from Navori, if the gossip around the campfire had been true. “If I asked you to dinner, would I have to fight for the privilege?”

You didn’t hear her answer. You didn’t need to nor did you wish to. You left her tent in a rush, with your hope crumbled lying on the ground behind you.

After that, you vanished from her periphery. At least as much as you could - you still worked logistics in her camp, still offered briefings when ordered, but the pieces of you she’d once glimpsed were buried. Hidden. You smiled less. Spoke only when spoken to.

She seemed… confused, at first. Then cold.

You tried not to wonder if she noticed the way you stopped looking at her altogether. Of course she hasn't, she barely remembered your name (or so you thought).

The sun was just setting on the day that you saw them. You were just crossing the square, arms full of reports and rations, trying to stay invisible.

Ambessa had said she had a “private engagement” that evening. You hadn’t thought much of it when she mentioned it at a meeting. You were trying not to think about her at all these days.

But then - there she was. Just across the square. Dressed in something elegant but casual. No armor. No sword. You haven't seen her like that before and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on her figure for longer that necessary.

And then your eyes landed on her and your silly little daydream of Ambessa was broken.

She was standing by her side - the diplomat. The one with the perfect laugh and the highborn smile. She was hanging on Ambessa’s arm like they’d known each other forever.

Ambessa didn’t pull away. It shouldn't have stung the way it did, you had no right to be hurt by her love for someone else, she didn't owe you a thing. And yet, when she smiled down at the charming young woman, you could feel your poor heart crack.

You ducked behind the edge of a market stall before either of them could see you, but the damage was done. You peeked out only once more - just in time to see Ambessa laughing at something the other woman said. Her smile was… soft, playful.

You stood there, behind crates of fruit and dust and hollow pride, staring like a fool while they walked off together. You stared after them with a sinking feeling in your chest and you couldn’t help but think: Of course. Of course she’d choose someone like that.

Graceful. Sophisticated. Clearly experienced. Probably tangled up in all sorts of connections and power plays. And then there was you - just a girl with ink-stained fingers and a heart too big for her own good.

And maybe, if it had just been the woman, it wouldn’t have hurt so much.

But the week before, you’d overheard two aides whispering over breakfast rations, voices low with gossip and bravado. They were laughing about Ambessa’s “particular taste.”

“She’s into those delicate little things,” one had snorted. “Men who look like they stepped out of an enchanted forest. Painted nails, silky voices, the kind she could snap like a twig if she wanted to."

“Yeah I heard she likes ‘em pretty,” the other had said with a sly smirk and a mocking chuckle. “Soft and malleable. ”

And you’d believed it.

So, seeing her smile like that at her - all eyeliner and lace and venomous wit-

It didn’t make you feel better. It made it worse. Because she wasn’t entirely the opposite of you. In some ways she was you. In all the ways you thought might disqualify you from Ambessa's interest. The softness, the quietness, the emotion you tried so hard to keep sealed behind your eyes. The part of you that wasn’t sharp enough to make you be noticed by most.

If she liked beauty, if she liked softness...

Then why not you?

But you wouldn't dare say anything. You didn't have that right. Not now. Not ever.

She deserved someone bright and effortlessly beautiful. Radiant in a way you could never be.

Not someone who held love like a wound they were ashamed to show. Not you.

---

It had been three weeks since you saw Ambessa with her. Three weeks since you turned around in that market square and walked away without looking back.

You’d done everything right. You kept your head down, your reports on time, your words clipped and professional. You spoke to her only when you had to and when you did, you made sure your tone never lingered, your eyes never stayed too long.

And Ambessa didn’t chase you which wan't surprising. Why would she? You were nothing but a trusted colleague to her at the very best.

Stll a shameful part of you was still hurt by it. That deluded, little part fo your soul, that thought there was a chance in hell she'd ever look at you twice, was weeping. It hurt even more the way Ambessa had looked at her: curious, maybe intrigued. No, what really stayed with you was that she just let you disappear.

But you made peace with it eventually. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself. You convinced yourself it was better this way. You had a job to do. A rank to upkeep. And no delusions left to feed.

Until tonight.

You were finishing your rounds when someone cleared their throat outside your tent.

As pathetic as it may sound, you'd recognize that voice and that silhouette under any circumstances.

Ambessa.

She stood half-shadowed by the firelight, hands behind her back, expression unreadable. Still in uniform, but without her usual entourage. Without any of her armor.

"Do you have a moment?" she asked.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Nodded once.

She stepped inside, eyes sweeping the space like she had imagined this part of you before and now she was confirming it.

“I wanted to explain myself,” she said, tone controlled. “About what you saw a few nights ago. The diplomat.”

You tried to keep your voice steady. “You don’t owe me such an explanation.”

“I do,” she said simply.

Silence settled between you. She crossed her arms, needing to put the weight of what she was about to say somewhere.

“She’s... sharp,” Ambessa said at last. “Charming, beautiful... We’d worked together before. There was familiarity, but not intimacy.”

You blinked. That wasn’t what you expected.

“She asked me to dinner,” Ambessa continued. “I said yes. I wanted to be seen choosing something... something clear. She knows how to play the game. I thought maybe we’d make sense.”

Ambessa looked at you, gaze leveled.

“But the whole time, I was bored out of my mind. And worse, I realized I was... being who she wanted me to be. Polished. Strategic. Measured.”

She shifted slightly, her hands tightening behind her back.

“I don't want someone who’s already writing the ending to a story that that hasn’t even begun. I’ve built my life on power and control. But I don’t want to perform in private.”

She stepped closer.

“With you... I never felt like I had to do that.”

You stared at her, heart caught between disbelief and something you couldn't afford to feel.

“I noticed when you stopped talking to me the way you used to,” she said. “I kept waiting for you to get angry. But you didn’t. You just… disappeared. And it hurt more than I expected.”

Your voice came out small. “I didn’t think I could compete.”

Ambessa’s eyes softened, just barely.

“You think I’m looking for competition?” she asked, a hint of amusement curling at the edge of her mouth. Her brows lifted, like she couldn’t quite believe you didn’t already know the answer.

She leaned back slightly, her folded arms tightening just enough that, if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was almost hugging herself. Like she was self-soothing without meaning to. “I have enough of that,” she said softly. The amusement faded, replaced by something more vulnerable.

Her gaze flicked to yours and held. “What I don’t have is someone I trust enough to see me. The way I truly am.”

There was a heavy pause as she took a deep breath, like she was about to leap.

“And I see you, too,” she added, voice low, nearly reverent. “I want you.”

You couldn’t breathe you didn't allow yourself to, not wanting to take the chances for an embarrasing sigh of relief to tumble out instead.

The fire outside crackled faintly through the silence that followed.

You swallowed. “Are you sure?”

Ambessa reached forward, her hand brushing against yours in a tentative motion.

“I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

Nither of you moved fow a moment Just stood there with her fingers brushing yours, like the it all might fall apart if you reached too far.

Then her hand shifted - strong and deliberate - sliding up your forearm, slow enough to ask without words. When she looked at you again, the steel in her eyes had given way to something raw.

“Tell me to leave,” she said, voice low. “Tell me I’ve missed my chance.”

Your breath hitched.

“Say the word,” she added, closer now. “And I’ll walk out of this tent, and we’ll pretend I was never here, that I never wanted you this badly.”

You didn’t say anything.

Because you couldn’t. Because you wouldn’t.

Instead, you reached for her, fingers curling into the front of her shirt and that was all the answer she needed.

Ambessa kissed you like she was reclaiming a part of herself she’d tried to live without. Her mouth was hungry, decisive, dragging a sound from your throat you hadn’t meant to make. One hand pressed against your lower back, the other tilting your jaw just enough to deepen the kiss.

It was not the kiss of someone unsure. It was the kiss of someone who knew what she wanted and couldn’t wait another second to have it.

You leaned into her like you couldn’t stop yourself, even if you tried. No hesitation left. Just the ache of finally being touched by the woman you’ve wanted for so long.

When she finally pulled away, her breath was unsteady. Her forehead rested against yours.

“You didn’t miss your chance,” you whispered.

Ambessa just smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made you wonder how you’d ever doubted this.

And then she kissed you again - slower this time, but no less certain.

#ambessa league of legends #ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #arcane x reader

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changingplumbob · 12 hours ago

Text

Second Round - Day Eight (R2) 2 of 2

@paracosmic-sims, @perolesims, @eljeebee, @jonquilyst, @riverofjazzsims, @matchalovertrait - Sim creators and co-writers

Nyami: *sits in disbelief* I won even though I fell?

Devin: You won even though you fell. You have the highest level of skill

Nyami: *runs around doing a little cringy celebratory hip dance*

Devin: I guess the interview is over?

Nyami: Sorry Devin *smiles* I need to find Deanna to give her a big hug

It's a gorgeous sunny day and Nyami has chosen to go to the beach for her date.

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Nyami: One would think considering my family and peoples background and traditions I would believe in such things. Ha-ha and you would ABSOLUTELTY be correct! I've definitely had what I would dub as unlucky moments but I am aware enough to know how lucky I am. Not because of anything that I have done specifically or has happened to me, but more to speak to the roots of the flower in which I grow.

Deanna: *smiles* Beautifully put

Nyami: I am blessed and lucky enough to have been born into a culture that’s rich and grounded in all that’s around them. To have parents that made It their mission to nurture each of the seeds they sowed and made sure that even if the food differed, we were fed and bloomed in an environment that gave space and love

Deanna: *is mesmerized*

Nyami: I'm sorry maybe that was a bit much, but I love my tribe, and family. I KNOW how much that has shaped me into the woman I am. So no matter my unlucky blips in life, my true luck has always and will always be derived from what's been gained from them

Deanna: *smiles* It wasn't too much for me

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Nyami: I think life, and the experiences had is honestly a combination of all the above mixed in with your own instincts

Deanna: Like a plate at a pot luck dinner

Nyami: *smiles* Yes! I base this off of things my family have passed down through the generations as well as our study of tribes in the region

Deanna: I love how much you know about your family history

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Nyami: I will always choose home BUT I know that my person may very well not live/be from Selvadorada and because there is no place like home I know I would pick someplace unlike where I grew up though made me feel just as much a welcome part of the world as I do currently

Deanna: That makes sense if home will always be the best version of itself. Any other contenders then for a welcoming part of the world?

Nyami: I feel Tomarang will bring that sense of community that I love with just enough city and country side to find appealing

Deanna: I hear they have a good balance of environments there, and a lovely night market

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Nyami: Considering I feel somewhat the same in regards to my home world due to family I cant fault you for wanting, hell if like me, needing that sense of belonging that being near your loved ones can cocoon you in

Deanna: *smiles* Yes, but we only moved here part way through high school for me. I get more attached to people than particular places so Selvadorada or Tomarang could be fun

When everyone is back at the villa it's time to work on their skills. While some challenges are more up to luck, there are some that are influenced a lot by skill.

It seems like Hana felt a little embarrassed by her performance this morning, she has picked rock climbing to study! Everyone else has only one thing on their minds- CHARISMA! The mirrors get a work out from the ladies as they practice.

Devin: You look happy again

Deanna: I'm feeling good. I think the contestants have been upping their game

Devin: The date went well then?

Deanna: *smiles* Very smitten with Nyami. Talking to her is like going on an adventure. She knows so much

Devin: How did you find it at the beach today?

Nyami: I took off my sunglasses so I could focus *laughs* Definitely reaffirmed me feeling smitten with Deanna

Another costume change, are we secretly back in time? Will they all put on tea gowns next? While yesterday Deanna may have been the main target for the Gonk group, Nyami is the one most bombarded by the R2 group. Jealously perhaps?

Apolline is clearly tired from the morning challenge. She doesn't even throw one balloon but uses her dance training to always find herself dry and safe from the others. Isla and Isabella both have a great time, seeming to have taken a pledge to deliberately miss when firing at each other.

Quetzalli mostly sticks close to Deanna but when she finds herself alone she does throw some balloons to distract people. Nyami may be soaked but she doesn't care, this is fun! Hana seems to play fair though, firing at most people and getting a solid hit on Deanna!

Nyami: That was so much fun

Apolline: How can anyone have fun when things are thrown at them?

Deanna: None hit you though? You and your outfit are alright

Apolline: My outfit is better than alright... but I can see your point

Quetzalli: I had fun. I've not had a water balloon fight since I was little

Isla: We have them a lot in Sulani

Isabella: You'd have the weather for it there

Hana: Although the sun did come out here today

Nyami: Wait, the sun is gay? *laughs at own joke*

After dinner autonomy is set to full and Deanna is locked out of all rooms (and away from computers). To start things off though she suggests the group watch a movie. I don't tell her to do anything so the night is very much up to the contestants.

The contestants begin to sob when Marion Crane pulls into the Bates Motel. Even if they haven't seen Psycho before, they can guess what's going to happen.

Isla: *sadly* Why did she have to take that money?

Quetzalli: It was forty thousand, that was a lot back then

Apolline: They would know it was her

Hana: *shrugs* Guess cops were useless even back then if she thought she could get away with it. She was changing states

Nyami: Oh my- the inside of the place is even creepier than the outside

Isabella: No, don't ask for a room!

Nyami: When a man says taxidermy is his hobby, surely that's enough of a clue to run!

Deanna: I couldn't eat with all those dead animals looking at me

Isla: Maybe it's a trick... maybe he really is a sweet guy who just hasn't been around people much

Apolline: Oui. Maybe she will kill him *laughs* no Isla

Isabella: Ugh she's heading to the shower. I have to close my eyes

Quetzalli: I have to admit the musical score is very good

*Psysho music*

*Contestants and Deanna jump and yelp*

Deanna: That wasn't so bad was it

Isabella: So strange how society changed

Hana: What do you mean?

Isabella: It used to be that the men were picked for their acting ability rather than just their looks but it seems like now everyone is picked for looks

Isla: Then how do you explain Will Ferrel?

The group laughed and many of them got up to do other things. Quetzalli wanted to dance.

Nyami? It would seem she wanted to get on the computer. Likely replying to all her family's emails. Apolline and Isabella headed upstairs to the ping pong table.

Apolline: First to three?

Isabella: Alright but I might be rusty

Apolline: Do you want to serve first?

Isabella: Alright

Isabella won with a score of 3 to 2. Apolline got a tense moodlet from losing to the grim reaper? Dramatic much darling? Or does Isabella have a secret?

When your day starts at five you can only stay awake for so long. Nyami and Quetzalli both decide to nap. Hana continues to dance while talking to Isla and Deanna. I see you there Deanna choosing to sit behind Hana's back as she dances. No wonder Hana flirts with her.

No coffee for Deanna tonight, it would seem she has switched to water. Following ping pong Isabella is sensible and heads to sleep in one of the beds. Apolline… chooses to nap on a couch. Once Deanna finishes her water Hana comes over to clean it up for her. Alas we have reached ten o'clock and can't have Deanna thank her.

Gym build by @hashimasims Beach venue found on the gallery by Chellsdi Villa renovation by @paracosmic-sims

#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #DatingDeanna #DatingDeannaRound2

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liloshits · 1 day ago

Text

The Three Words

Where you go, I go

Chapter 1

Word count: 1.8K

As Dani hears him openly flirting with her, she has the most unexpected reaction, surprising herself even: laughing, out loud, making some people around them stare at the situation and Mr. Wolff blush just like he’s a teenager once again.

“I’m sorry Mr. Wolff, I didn’t mean to laugh, if I’m honest you caught me off-guard as I never imagined a man in finance being so flirty. Most of you are a bit out of touch - no offense, you clearly got game - so if you allow me, can I have a normal reaction?” Dani says while still catching her breath.

Wolff laughs softly “I’m the one who should be apologizing, it was out of nowhere really, guess you had such an impact on me that I lost my mind” he says upping his game even more “so yeah, if you could have a better reaction… my ego would appreciate it very much”

“I like you already, you’re not scared of pretty girls” Dani grins at him, making him blush again and as she notices she teases him “ok, maybe you’re only a bit scared then. You’re lucky I’m gonna spare you today with my flirty game so I’m not gonna tell you that: if you lost your mind just by looking at my eyes, I’ll have to pray for your soul if you ever get too close to me” Dani smiles, knowing exactly what she has done, as Mr.Wolff is currently looking like he just seen a ghost, choking on his water, startled and unable to say anything else. But can you blame a girl who will never see this man again? She can have a bit of fun! Of course, they technically live in the same city but another 1.5 million people also live in Vienna, what are the chances of ever meeting up again? And, in her defence: he was the one who started it! “It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Wolff!” Dani says softly, as she walks away from him.

“The pleasure is all mine” Wolff says under his breath, completely flushed and disoriented after being hit by this truck that he didn’t even see coming. Now he’s definitely interested in her, not even romantically, he thinks, but it’s hard getting over someone so beautiful, confident and unique. And he can’t help but hate himself for not knowing more about her, he only knows her name, coffee order, her major and that she moved to his city. He’s not a religious man but from this day on he’ll certainly start praying so any God puts this woman back in front of him one more time.

Walking outside of the coffee room, Dani sees Elina and rushes towards her. “Hey Eli! Wait…” she says as her friend turns to see her, needless to say Elina frowns at the way Dani looks… off. The last time they saw each other Dani was almost falling asleep right in the middle of the room, now she’s awake and lively in a way that coffee doesn’t make you feel.

“Oh God, what have you been up to Dani?” Elina asks, raising an eyebrow to her “Me? Nothing… nothing serious at least, maybe just a bit of flirting with the only cute man present in this forum, nothing harmful though. I didn’t get anyone’s number or anything, just decided to have a bit of fun so I can cheer up a bit” Dani explains quickly, not making a big deal of it.

“Oh, so you found the only good looking man here and decided to flirt your ass off and *NOT* get his number? You used to be smarter D!” Elina replies laughing as they walk through the crowds, trying to get to the auditorium where their favorite professor and mentor, Mrs. Miller will soon be participating in a talk.

“Well Eli, I didn’t get his number because he’s at least 10 years older than me, and honestly, after ending an engagement I don’t think I’m requiring an older man! Even if he’s more mature and serious, because right now I can’t really deal with human beings from the male gender in general. Anyway, he’s Austrian and you’d say he’s hot, because he is! Imagine: tall, messy hair, nice smile and broad shoulders.” Dani makes her point while already giving Eli more information, as she knows she won’t let go until she has the details.

“Wait! Too much new information Daniela. So you flirted with an Austrian sugar daddy, fyi he could be one of my cousins…” Elina says shocked. “Eli, he’s not one of your cousins, I’ve met them all and you know that none of them can be described like I described the guy” Dani explains “And he’s not a sugar daddy… I think… I mean, he’s certainly rich as he’s a successful venture capitalist. He’s older but not enough to be classified as a sugar daddy. If I’m not mistaken he said during the panel that he’s 32…” Dani is abruptly interrupted by Elina.

“Girl, you telling me you flirted with one of the Forum’s participants??? You’re a dangerous woman… and you said he’s Austrian? There’s only ONE Austrian man participating in panels here!” Elina says a bit exasperated, while getting the Forum’s schedule from her purse, frantically searching for a name and as Dani watches it unfold she starts to realize that maybe flirting with a random guy in a professional place wasn’t her brightest idea.

“Found it! Wolff isn’t it? Christian Wolff… don’t know him personally but let me tell you, the business/ financial side of Vienna is tiny! So if you flirted thinking you’d never see him again you’re very mistaken! Bless your soul Daniela. I can’t leave you unattended for 45 minutes if you’re going to flirt with a divorced man, father of two in a heartbeat…” This time who gets exasperated is Dani, as she can feel her face blushing and her heart rushing.

“Divorced? Father of two? I thought he’d be one of those guys who don’t want anything serious and that’s why they’re single in their 30’s! You know those bachelors that have women throwing themselves at them because they’re the whole package? Handsome, rich, intelligent and charismatic” Dani whisper-screams as they sit in the auditorium. “Well girl, congrats, maybe soon enough you’ll be a loving step-mother, if everything goes smoothly!” Elina says laughing at Dani’s reaction.

After Mrs. Miller’s panel, they both go back to their hotel. Actually, Dani’s hotel, as Elina is staying with a group of friends she made when she became extremely catholic as a teenager? Nowadays none of them remain in church apparently, Daniela is not entirely sure as Dani tries to get to know Elina little by little, because it’s always the craziest side plots ever, so she takes it step by step so she doesn’t miss anything.

It turns out that they’ve been invited to go to dinner tonight. It’ll be in a restaurant in the financial district, Elina says she won’t go because it’ll be fancy and she doesn’t even own clothes to be in such an environment. Dani asked Mrs.Miller, who’s the one who invited them, and she told them that it’s not going to be fancy, just something for friends and a tiny bit of networking (as is everything in the business world).

“Absolutely not Dani” Elina says pacing around the room “besides, me and the altar boys (Dani remembers that that’s how Eli refers to her ex-teen-catholic group) will be going to church tonight. Sebastian is now a deacon and we want to celebrate him!”

With that, Dani’s only choice is to go to Mrs.Miller’s dinner, what else will she do? Since her accident she hasn’t been the most religious person. Lewis is away racing in Formula 3 Euro series, Nico is in Germany spending a few days off, her brother is in Barcelona and none of her Oxford friends made the trip to London this time around. At least if she goes to dinner, she’ll be able to eat something good and she’ll get a few drinks.

Arriving at dinner, she’s welcomed by Mrs. Miller. Turns out Dani got a bit late while she was getting ready - which means she was on time for Brazilian party time - but late enough to be one of the last ones to arrive at a British dinner, so there are only two places available on the table.

As she walks to her seat, Mr. Miller quickly introduces her to the rest of the table “Everyone please welcome Daniela Salles, but you can call her only Dani! She’s one of my brightest students, I taught her in Oxford already and now she’s with me in Vienna. I used to say that I didn’t understand how someone could have such, a business acumen, be so sharp, be so visionary - until I noticed her last name - so yes, before anyone bothers her with questions: she’s from the Salles family, the owners of Iby, so if any of you are willing to make business with her family’s institutions, tonight is not the night because we’re all here to relax!” Mrs.Miller smiles softly at her, as she can see how people’s reaction to her changed.

At first people barely looked at her, probably thinking to themselves “oh another of Miller’s pupils”, now she can sense them reaching into their pockets so they can give her their business cards.

As the people around her start to engage in small conversations with her, she sees *him* walking through the door a bit rushed, and she just knows someone shorter would suffer to keep up with his strides, his smile is sweet as he looks apologetic to Mrs. Miller, opening his arms to hug her.

Dani instantly looks at the empty chair beside her KNOWING she’ll have to spend the night sitting right beside the man she flirted with in the morning. The divorced, father of two, man she flirted with! She can only curse herself because obviously she’d end up in such situation, the universe hates her sometimes.

“Toto! Always late huh? Some would think those long legs of yours would mean you’d get to places quicker…” She snaps out of her thoughts as she hears someone at the other end of the table saying this while laughing. And Christian Wolff apparently is also known as Toto, as he acknowledges the person crossing the room to pull the other guy into a quick hug? Well, at least he’ll be seated right beside her so she’ll have plenty of time to ask him anything she wants.

That’s when his eyes land on her and for a quick second she can see his smile faltering, but that passes as he rapidly smiles even brighter, staring directly at her while he says hi to the entire table and when he reaches his chair he can only say “It seems like we meet again Ms. Salles! Something in my gut told me not to miss this dinner tonight.” He winks at her, his eyes still on her, clearly amused that his prayers worked and she’s in front of him once again.

#toto wolff #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fiction #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x original character #fanfic #formula one #f1 fic #mercedes amg f1 #Young Toto Wolff #slow burn #It's not actually slow burn in my head...#I gotta start writting earlier

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