#I do however still like the way it turned out
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. . . ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ¹ ׄ ⑅ MV1 ˖ ֺ ᰮ
— DESCRIPTION ੭ in short, you're done standing back when mr verstappen thinks he can push around your boyfriend like he wants.
— PAIRING ੭ max verstappen x gf!reader.
— FILE ੭ imagine.
— DISCLAIMERS ੭ 🔞 mdni, suggestive content, language, light mention of verbal abuse, max's parents are still together and he's dad's a total ass, also (currently) unedited.
❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | max verstappen masterlist ❫
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Dinner was going so perfectly; aside from the lovely food, you too indulged in all the hilarious and adorable stories Mrs Verstappen had been so vibrantly been dishing out for you. Max was red in the face with embarrassment, your hand comfortable in his as he caresses it in his lap.
His siblings would join in on the conversation whenever they saw the opportune moment to shut down whatever lie their brother concocted on the spot to try and get himself out of a playful scolding from his mom, and it all just warmed your heart to see how happy he seemed in the moment.
But then, someone just had to speak up from his quiet spot at the head of the table and piss all over his content mood.
"Max, meet me outside for a drink. I'd like to talk to you."
To the ears of a stranger Mr Verstappen's words would sound like a simple request, to which Max could easily decline and just continue sitting in the comfortability of his family. However, you've been around for long enough to recognize that tone; it's no request.
It's an order.
His father stands, wine glass in hand, and steps away without another word as he leaves towards the back door. Once he's gone, a shivering silence settles over the table. His siblings look everywhere but their brother, Mrs Verstappen all but sighs softly and starts to clean up the table, and Max stares done at your hand in his.
"Max," you start, tightening your grip. "Just, stay here," you try, and when he looks up with a small smile that does nothing but claw at your heart, you try another tactic. "Or let's just go home. We can have some ice-cream, watch that weird documentary you're you're obsessed with, I can even-"
"I'll be only a few minutes schatjie, then we can leave, okay ?" he rubs over your hand, probably hoping it would ease your racing your heart.
It doesn't.
"Max," you begin again, hesitant eyes watching as he rises from his chair beside you and gently places your hands in your own lap.
"Help mom clean up, will you please ? I'll be back in a minute love." you want to protest yet again, but nothing comes out of you parted lips when he places a kiss to the crown of your head, before walking away, softly shutting the sliding door to the backyard behind him.
Taking a breath, you try to calm yourself as you stand to help Mrs Verstappen with clearing the table. You try your best to focus on anything else, but knowing that all his father is doing right now is being mean and belittling his son is gnawing at your insides in a way that has molten hot anger simmering in your gut.
Everyone in Max's family are such lovely, kind people – and then you get his poor excuse of a father.
You don't even realise you have the ends of the table cloth balled up in your molded right fists until there's a sharp poke in your ribs. Turning, you gaze meets eyes that so closely resemble Max's, it almost always makes you smile.
"Go." Victoria nods her head towards the back door, and you momentarily look back, before meeting his eyes that match the worry you feel inside.
It's just one word, but it holds all the emotions she's feeling and with hos strong they are, it gives you the green light. With a short nod, you turn on your heel and take long, determined strides towards the glass door.
When you open it, it seems your disrupt the conversion at just the right moment.
"She's going to become a distraction, Max. All you've worked for and currently working towards, is going to be for nothing."
"I sorely disagree, sir."
The two men's heads whirl at the sudden entrance of your voice, and the confidence that colours your face has Max weak in his knees, feeling as if he's falling in love with you all over again.
His father's spine straightens at the sight of you as you join Max by his side, his arm instinctively coming up to rest his hand at the small of your back.
"This conversation does not concern you, Ms L/N."
You hum once with a bitter smile. "From what I heard, Mr Verstappen, it seems as it does."
He locks his jaw, hand tightening around his wine glass so harshly you think it's just seconds from shattering in his hand.
"Max, I've told you to keep this one in check before she-"
"Do not speak of her as if she's not right in front of you, Jos," Max's gaze darkens to the blue of the bottom of the ocean, and it has your insides curling in pride.
He only ever truly gets upset when his father disrespect you, otherwise he just stands quietly to entertain the nonsense coming out of his mouth, knowing he'll soon leave and enjoy all the true love you shower him I'm everyday later.
"And quite frankly, I like my girlfriend exactly how she is," he smirks, fingers massaging the revealing skin of your back from the cropped shirt you were wearing. "Snippy tongue and all."
It's true, you smile; he especially loves it when you have that same tongue down his throat, or wrapped around his cock.
It seems Max has that same thought in mind, because despite his father's furious gaze staring down at him, he can't seem to rid the naughty smirk from hid face, his hand now sliding down to fall into your back pocket.
He squeezes once, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the moan back.
"Now, if you're done trying to convince me what a failed son I am, I'm going to head home with my snippy-tongued girlfriend." he pats your jean-clad ass one softly, before pulling his hand to wrap his arm around your waist.
"Dag Jos. Ik hoop dat ik je blijf irriteren, het is mijn favoriete spel ( Bye Jos. I hope I continue to piss you off, it's my favouritesport !) !" you wave your fingers in an obnoxious manner, smile so sweet you hope it rots every damned tooth in his shitty mouth.
Max's deep, honey-draped chuckle rings in your ear, his voice low in the most pussy-wetting manner. "You know what you speaking Dutch does to me, schatjie."
Batting your eyelashes, you smile. "Oh, ik weet het (Oh, I know)."
A gravely groan resonates from his throat, his bany blues trained down on your glossy lips. "Ik kan niet wachten om je te neuken (I can't wait to fuck you)."
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✍: I might be writing a part 2, but that one will contain smut soooo if you're not into reading that, don't ! ♡ ... but if you arrreeeeee, hehe, stay tuned 🎀.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen f1#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 x you#mv1
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HIIII SALEM i hope ill be ur first req :3 can i have making out w TA geto in like your dorm room or smtg - i love that secretive/will they get caught dynamic <3 u can make it a little steamy but all in all i just want geto to relax after stressing over his masters 😇
contains: teaching assistant!geto, established relationship, afab!reader, making out, some suggestiveness, shoko cameo, pet names (my love, angel, baby)
word count: 1.1k
a/n: WAAAAH i finally got to writing this!!! i hope you're doing well seline, i miss you :( reminder that my requests are still open, please read my rules!!
reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!!
minors and ageless / blank blogs will be blocked immediately!
sugu bear <3: can i come over?
sugu bear <3: need ur mental support for submitting my thesis pls
you smiled at your phone, responding with ‘ofc baby get ur ass over here rn’ in light speed.
ever since he started his position as a teaching assistant, he has been even more stressed as usual. there was no doubt that he was enjoying it, sometimes even taking over the class for the day and doing the meticulous work of grading essays and tests. however, it would take up a lot of his free time and subsequently, your time together as well.
sure, you'd see him on campus and in your shared classes, sneaking in as much physical contact as possible. but you missed spending actual time with him. watching movies, cooking together, going on dates, you name it. you got used to it, but sometimes you would feel a bit lonely. so you were elated to hear him coming over.
even better, your roommate shoko was out on a date with her girlfriend so you’d have the dorm to yourself. getting all giddy, you decided to tidy up a little for your boyfriend.
just a short time later, there was a knock on your dorm door and you rushed to see your sweet suguru standing there. he had a nervous smile on his face, his laptop in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
“this is all i could get, hope you like it,” he murmured. you flung yourself onto him, inhaling his familiar scent. oh, how you missed him.
you squealed, “are you kidding, sugu? these are beautiful, you didn't have to get me anything!”
his smile grew wider, walking you backwards into your living space and closing the door behind him with his foot. you parted from him, placing a kiss onto his plump lips. he leaned into it, closing his eyes with a soft hum. soon enough, you broke the kiss and took the flowers to put them in a vase.
while you were rummaging through your kitchen, suguru made himself comfortable on your couch. he opened the laptop and got to work, finishing up his thesis. he had stressed about it for so long, he was scared about making typos so he read over it until his eyes burned. you soon joined him, curling into his side as you watched your boyfriend add the last finished touches to the document.
after a few minutes of comfortable silence, suguru let out a heavy sigh.
“want me to submit it for you?” you offered when you saw his shaky hand hovering over the touchpad, the mouse set on the big red submit button.
he quietly spoke: “you know what? yeah, i’d like that. no way to back out now.”
you took the laptop from him, setting it on your lap and clicking the button. as the confirmation screen lit up, you closed the window and laptop to put it on your coffee table. turning towards him, you noticed how pale he had gotten over the course of the last few minutes.
“are you okay?” you giggled, tucking one of the stray hairs behind his ear.
he sighed, “yeah, it's finally done.”
he pulled you on top of him, making you squeal. you settled on his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders and playing with the hairs on his nape. suguru placed his large hands on your waist, their weight and warmth comforting against your skin. you squirmed a little to get more comfortable as he leaned back with a sigh. with his eyes closed, his long lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks.
opening his eyes after a few breaths, suguru looked up at you with adoration in his eyes. a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, mirroring yours.
“i'm proud of you, sugu. you've worked so hard. i was worried you’d get grey hair by the time i’d see you next.”
his heart thumped in his ribcage, threatening to burst out.
“don't i deserve a reward then, my love?” he mused. you chuckled, knowing what he was insinuating.
you leaned forward to gently cover his face in kisses. starting at his forehead, going down his warm cheeks and sharp nose and lastly, his lips. they were roughed up from all the biting but still plump against yours. after a few light pecks, suguru gave you a small appreciative hum, his hands sliding around to your back to pull you closer to him. the warmth of his body made you melt into his touch, your chest pressed against his as close didn't seem close enough. your eyes fluttered close, a small whine getting stuck in your throat as suguru’s lips locked onto yours.
his tongue swiped over your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth, gently pulling at his now disheveled hair. he moaned quietly, his scalp tingling from your ministrations. your tongues swirled around each other in a tentative dance, the air getting hotter by the minute. spit was exchanged, deep inhales through the nose as you got drunk on each other. one of his hands settled on the side of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.
shivers ran down your spine at his gentle touch, the pit in your tummy getting hotter and hotter. your hips started gyrating on top of his needily, feeling how hard he was getting just from your lips on his own. a low rumble erupted from his chest at that, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly. guiding you gently, he bucked his hips up to your heated core, making you part from him with a whimper.
a small string of spit connected your mouths, heavy lidded eyes watching as you gripped his shoulders for leverage as your hips grew a mind of their own.
“missed you s’much,” you whined, placing your forehead against his. you were watching how he parted his lips to pant as your clothed core rubbed against his boner so deliciously.
he let out a small moan, “missed you too, angel. i’m sorry for neglecting my poor baby.”
his mouth stretched into a grin as he watched you use him to get yourself off, desperate to feel his skin on yours. suguru slid his hands under your shirt, drawing figure eights against your blazing skin.
you could feel yourself getting wetter and coming closer to your peak when at the cusp of it, a harsh knock resonated through the living room. following that, shoko’s voice came muffled through the door.
“can we come in or are y'all still humping each other?”
tags: @sttoru @kizoken @prncessrindou and thank you to @screampied and @redskyvenus for proofreading!!! :3
© kentophilia 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
#༄ storybook#me 🤝🏼 our favs bringing us flowers#suguru geto#geto suguru#geto fluff#suguru fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru x reader#suguru x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk geto#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#divider by cafekitsune
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The Family Business Ch. 10
WandaNat x Reader
Word count: 3.4k
Ch.Notes: no notes this ch
Summary: Natasha and Wanda have a talk about their feelings for you. After that emotional conversation they meet you at the hospital to visit Dragos.
An: If I were to say things get more real next chapter how would you feel...
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
The rest of the work day drags for Natasha and Wanda. Both women having other things on their mind. However, with Kate and Y/n out of the office on a hectic day like this, they couldn’t afford to dwell too much.
“Sestra, can we call it a day? I've never taken this many calls in my life,” Pietro barges into his sisters office.
“If you want to go home, then go,” she waves her hand dismissively at him.
“What’s got you so snappy?”
When Wanda’s eyes meet Pietro she’s glaring at him, “If you haven’t noticed I’m trying to run the company our father built on my own.”
Pietro raises his brow, “On your own? Discrediting my work is normal for you, but to act as if Y/n wasn’t running this place last night is bullshit.”
“Well she’s not here now,” Wanda mumbles under her breath.
“Why? Where is she?”
Wanda can’t hide the small clench in her jaw, “Kate took her home. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“She’s in good hands sestra if that’s what's worrying you,” Pietro tries to console her.
Wanda doesn’t want to speak about it any further, “I’m going to see papa whenever I’m done with this do you want to come?”
The way that Pietro's goofy features turn serious never cease to amaze Wanda, “I can’t tonight, I have a date.”
Wanda rolls her eye, “You’d rather get laid than see our father?”
Pietro shakes his head, “No, but this isn’t just some girl. I want this to be serious and I can’t afford to stand her up.”
The red head is slightly surprised, but she nods along, “I’ll tell him about it, I bet he’d be glad to hear you taking something seriously for once.”
He chuckles a bit before going quiet. He looks at Wanda similar to the way a needy child looks at their parent.
“Do you think he’ll wake up?”
“He has too,” the words are heavy as they leave her lips. She has a small smile placed on her face as she continues, “Mama will kill him if he doesn't.”
“Don’t work too hard sestra,” he speaks sincerely taking his leave.
“Enjoy your date,” Wanda says as he walks out of the door.
When he leaves she lets out a heavy sigh. For the first time today she lays her head down on her desk, exhaustion starting to plague her.
Thoughts of her responsibilities as the person in charge rain down on her. This was the end goal that she wanted, but never at this great of cost. She wished her father would wake up and reclaim his place because she didn’t feel ready.
She was focusing as hard as she could, but her mind always strays to her brother’s best friend. Your delicate skin pressing against hers in the morning or the strong arms that wrapped around her waist, or those doe eyes that she could sense staring at her.
Wanda debates for a moment before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the girl. It rings for a while before there's finally an answer.
“Hello.”
“Hey, little krolik. I just wanted to check on you. Nat told me you went home today,” Wanda keeps her tone level.
You sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m ok. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry for stepping out, I know that's not how we do business.”
“It’s no different than me leaving yesterday. This line of work takes a toll on you.”
She can’t see it, but you nod, “I’m feeling better now. I still want to go see pa- Dragos. Maybe I could have Kate drop me off and I’ll meet you two there?”
“You’re with Kate?” Wanda can’t stop herself from asking the question.
“Yeah she took me home and decided to keep me company,” you say nonchalantly.
“I could’ve taken you,” Wanda tries to play it cool.
You disagree with her, “I didn't want to bother you while you were working. It was a hectic day, truth be told I didn't even want to leave.”
Wanda’s tone is strong as she speaks, “I will never be too busy for you Y/n.”
“Wanda-”
“I mean it. I know I’m supposed to move past it, but I missed a lot while I was gone. I couldn’t be there for you like I wanted to. Now that I’m back I’d like to be there for you as much as I can. I still want to be the one you lean on,” Wanda let herself be vulnerable with you.
You were taken aback by her admission. It felt like it was impossible for you to come up with a response. It wasn’t like she was saying something you hadn't heard from her before, but her words felt heavier somehow.
“I know you'll be there for me, Wanda . You don't have to prove it.”
Wanda frowns lightly, “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just- it’s hard knowing I’m not the first person you come to when you’re in need. I know you've grown out of needing people for the most part, but I don’t know. I’m not making any sense. Nat and I will meet you at the hospital.”
Wanda doesn't give you a chance to respond as she hangs up the phone. She scolds herself about how needy she sounded during the call.
“I think I’m finished up for today, whenever you’re ready to go,” Natasha strolls into the office.
Wanda stares at the computer screen for a moment, “I should be ready in half an hour.”
Natasha plops down on the couch of her wife’s office. It’s silent for a moment until Nat shifts on the couch which makes noise fill the office.
“So, do you want to talk about it?”
“ About what?” Wanda keeps her attention on the screen.
“What I said about being jealous of Kate?”
Wanda’s brow furrows, “Not particularly.”
Natasha strides over to the woman’s desk chair and places herself in Wanda’s lap. Wanda’s arms loop around the woman’s waist holding her in place.
“We need to talk about this moya lyubov,” the spy places gentle kisses on the base of Wanda’s neck.
The other woman whines, “Why?”
“Because we’re married and you’re in love with Y/n,” Natasha states plainly.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “You were jealous too.”
Natasha nods, “I was and I don’t have a problem admitting it.”
Wanda’s face buries itself in the crook of Natasha’s neck, “So what does this all mean?”
“I like her too,” Natasha states bluntly.
“ I don’t want to lose you,” Wanda’s voice is small as she speaks to her wife.
Natasha softly places her hand on Wanda’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet, “You will never lose me Wanda. I married you because I’m completely, utterly, madly in love with you. That feeling hasn’t gone anywhere.”
“I love you too,” Wanda’s eyes shine as they bore into Natasha’s.
“ I think we should think about what it would be like to add Y/n into our relationship dynamic,” Natasha speaks, but it sounds like a question.
Wanda tenses briefly, “I can admit that I have feelings for Y/n, but I don’t know if I can act on these feelings Nat.”
“Why not?”
Wanda closes her eyes, “I’ve known her too long, Nat. She’s the same age as my little brother, not to mention she's his best friend. If she doesn’t feel the same way, this will ruin everything.”
“Detka-”
“I don’t know if it’s better or worst that we both want her. How would we even tell her Natasha? I don’t want to lose anymore time with her,” Wanda begins to get emotional.
Natasha cups her wife’s face in both of her hands, “Baby, I know you’re scared. This is scary, I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that you love her and I think I could too. We’ve spent so much of our lives sacrificing for others, but I’m ready to sacrifice something for my own sake, aren’t you?”
“I am, but not at the expense of my relationship Y/n. I just got her back, Natasha. I’m not saying I never want to tell her, but I can’t do this now,” Wanda tries to turn her head away from her wife.
Natasha doesn’t let her, but instead places a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. Wanda relaxes under Natasha’s touch, feeling all of the stress of the day seeping out of her body.
“ Don’t hide from me, Wanda. I want you to share your feelings, I won’t ever judge you,” Natasha whispers against the taller woman’s lips.
“I don’t want to disappoint you. I know you’re ready but-”
Natasha shakes her head, “It’s not just about me, it’s about us. I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t ready for. If you want to pursue Y/n, I’m with you, but if you don’t, I'm still with you.”
Wanda nods softly, “I want to, but I- I need time.”
Natasha kisses her again, “Whenever you’re ready baby. Now finish up so we can go.”
“You’re not going to move?” Wanda questions her wife.
Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh, “ You can’t work around me?”
Wanda scoots herself into the desk. She slightly pushes Natasha to press into her further. The spy’s head is in the nape of Wanda’s neck.
“I can and if I’m being honest it’s my preferred method of doing work,” Wanda begins to focus on the computer again.
She works diligently with her wife in her lap. Having Natasha there makes her work go by a little faster and feel a lot less stressful. She finishes up within the hour.
Once she’s done Wanda shoots a text to Y/n saying that they were headed to the hospital. The girl replies saying she’ll meet them there.
Natasha drives, one hand on the wheel and the other holds Wanda’s hand. Her thumb caresses the back of the passengers hand trying to provide comfort, knowing that this was not an easy task for her.
Wanda had only visited her father once. She hated seeing him in such a fragile state. It almost didn't feel like he was her father. He couldn’t be the same man that took her to the city fair, the same mam that placed flowers in her hair, the man that invested his entire life in her dreams, it couldn’t be. This wasn’t the man that kept her safe from her nightmares, because looking at him in this state was beginning to feel like one.
When they arrived they went inside the building.
“If you don’t tell me what room he is in you won't live to the end of the week to regret it,” you argue with the receptionist.
Kate’s behind you her hand resting on your shoulder trying to pull you out of the conflict.
“It’s family only mam, one more outburst and I will have security throw you out,” the receptionist said causing a vein to pop in your neck.
“Is there a problem here?” Natasha speaks up first.
“Nothing that concerns you,” the receptionist snaps at the spy.
You interrupt, “You don't talk to her like that.”
Before things escalate any further Wanda slams her hand on the receptionist’s desk with her card under her palm.
“Now tell me what room my father is in, “ Wanda’s eyes look fiery as she stared at the receptionist.
The receptionist looks at the card bestie her eyes go wide, “Terribly sorry for the mix up Mrs. Maximoff, didn’t know she was in your company.”
Wanda peers down at the receptionist, “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. I don't ever want to hear you address either of these ladies in a disrespectful manner again.”
“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff sorry about that. It won’t happen again. He’s in room 286,” the receptionist looked ten sizes smaller.
You can’t help but give the woman a death glare as you head towards the elevator. Kate stops you on the way.
“I’m going to head home are you going to be alright?” Her eyes subtly glance in Wanda and Natasha’s direction.
“I’ll be fine Katie,” you reassure her.
“Ok just checking. Text me later and make sure you're taking care of yourself,” Kate pulls you into a tight hug.
The sound of someone clearing their throat ends your hug with the doe eyed girl. Kate smiles at you upon the release of the hug, she then waves goodbye, leaving you with the married couple.
“And you’re sure you and Kate aren’t dating?” Wanda can’t help, but comment.
You roll your eyes, “Positive, Katie and I are just friends.”
“What did you do after you left work ?”
You all pile into the elevator as you answer, “Nothing really. We just watched some tv and ordered some food. How was it at the office?”
Wanda goes to answer but Natasha stops her, “No work talk out of the office.”
“Well then what are we going to talk to Dragos about?” You attempt to joke in hopes of brightening the mood.
“ You can call him Papa you know?” Wanda takes her time looking at you.
“I know-”
She cuts you off, “Mama too.”
You nod to yourself, “I know, it’s just not my normal.”
Natasha speaks up, “It honestly feels like you’re fighting against their names when you say them. Mama and Papa sound natural coming from you."
“It feels like they are my parents.”
“They are,” Wanda grabs onto your hand as you approach Dragos’ room.
The air feels different when you enter the room. It’s hard to look at him in such a state. He lies still on the hospital bed with machinery hooked up to him. There are less machines than originally, but still too many in your eyes.
Flora sits by the side of the bed with her hand in his. The view is somber, it takes nearly everything in you not to cry. Almost as if she can sense the tension building in your body, Wanda squeezes your hand.
“How’s he been Mama?” Wanda’s moved closer to her mother’s side, dragging you with her.
“The same, but the doctors are saying that's a good thing for now at least,” she sighs heavily.
“And how are you Mama?” You ask looking over the woman’s features.
Flora sends you a small smile, “I’m tired sweetheart, but I’ll live.”
“Have you been going home?” Wanda questions further.
“To shower and change clothes.”
Wanda’s voice takes a stern tone, “Mama, you need to rest.”
The older woman shakes her head, “I can't leave him for too long.”
“He wouldn’t want you spending all your time here,” you say softly.
“It’s not about what he wants for once. If he didn’t want me here he would’ve listened when I told him going to meet Fisk alone was a bad idea,” she glares at her sleeping husband.
“I’ll have his head for this,” Wanda gets agitated at the mention of Kingpin.
“Blowing up the ports wasn’t enough?” Flora comments.
“Power move, just to prove that there are no cracks in our business affairs,” Wanda’s jaw sets.
Flora looks at her daughter, “He’s not going to take this lying down.”
“I know.”
You squeeze Wanda’s hand to reassure her, “ We’ll be ready for him."
Flora lets out a sad laughter, “You sound just like him Y/n.”
“ That’s a compliment for the ages. I hope I could be half of the person he is,” your gaze falls into your lap.
“You already are. You kids have always made us both so proud.”
You desperately want to ask more about Dragos’ condition, but you refrain. The conversation stays light as you reminisce about the man.
Natasha doesn't say much, but her presence does provide someone to share with. She's hearing most things about her father-in-law for the first time. She's getting a good look into the man he is.
She pays attention to the way you and Wanda both light up when sharing stories. It warms her heart to see the two of you looking genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.
When it’s time to go the mood drops a bit, but not too much. It’s when Natasha goes to follow Wanda and Y/n out of the room when Flora stops her.
“You make sure they're taking care of themselves,” Flora hugs the redhead and whispers in her ear.
Natasha nods, “I will Mrs.Maximoff.”
They head home after that, exhaustion finally catching up to them.
A small dilemma plagues your mind when you get home. Part of you wishes to go with Wanda and Natasha into their apartment where you know you can get a good night's rest. The other part of you tells you that you shouldn't make it a habit. It's a lose-lose situation.
Begrudgingly you decide to go to your own apartment.
“I’ll see you guys later,” you try and give a small goodbye.
Wanda grabs your forearm, “You can come over tonight, if you need to. No matter the time. Alright, little krolik?”
Your eyes shift over to Natasha who smile, showing agreement with her wife, “The door is always open for you.”
You struggle to keep your composure, “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
Your house feels extra empty as you enter. The weight of the day sets into your system. Getting ready for bed seems pointless as you know you won’t be getting any sleep.
Staring at the ceiling seems different, knowing that across the hall was the woman that you had spent your teen years pining over. Yet, knowing that she could love you didn’t make your heart flutter like it was supposed to. It sent an anxiety running through your chest.
You knew that she was probably curled up in the bed next to her wife. Her drop dead gorgeous, kind hearted, Russian spy, wife. A woman in a league of her own, in her own right.
The thought didn’t make you jealous, but it had an adverse effect on you. You wanted to be there, to be involved, to be a part of what they had.
You groan placing a pillow over your head in a dull effort to quiet your thoughts.
Your phone rings on the dresser and you pick it up, and mumble a hello with the pillow still over your head.
“Come over.”
“Natasha?”
There’s a hum over the line, “Yes, are you coming or do I need to come get you?”
You shuffle out of the bed, keeping the phone to your ear, “Is something wrong?”
“Well-"
She’s cut off by her wife, “Come to bed little krolik. I need the extra warmth.”
Natasha chuckles, “Wanda refuses to sleep in your absence. She’s getting a little grumpy.”
“ I’m not grumpy. Tell her to hurry,” Wanda argues with Natasha.
This makes your heart flutter like it’s supposed to, “Are you sure it’s ok Nat?”
“ Lisichka I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you back in our bed.”
You feel a blush take over your features as you exit your home.
“ Ok, open the door,” you murmur and it takes no time for the spy to let you into her home.
Natasha looks exhausted as she grabs you by the arm and drags you wordlessly to the bedroom.
Wanda’s already in the bed and when she sees you she does a grabbing motion towards you. You shake your head before climbing into the bed. She wraps her arm around your waist and snuggles closer to you.
“You sleep here now. It’s better for all of us,” She mumbles against your skin.
“Ok,” you don’t fight her on it, knowing she’d probably forget in the morning.
You look up at Natasha shyly. She still stands over the bed. In a similar fashion to Wanda, you stick out your arms for her.
Natasha grins as she climbs into your arms. You carefully drape your arm over the spy, resting your hand against her flat stomach.
For the second night in a row you find yourself comfortable in their bed. You all think about how you shouldn’t indulge in this feeling, scared it won’t last.
It’s like the couple can read your mind. Wanda’s hold on you tightens and Natasha turns to face you. They keep you safe in their embrace and the thoughts in your head quiet.
No one says anything, but you all feel it. There’s a shift in your relationship and you won’t be able to ignore it for much longer.
Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#wandanat x reader#wandanat#kate bishop#pietro maximoff
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Unreserved
Feyd x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, MDNI; penetration, oral sex (reader receiving), not really soft but maybe - maybe soft!dom Feyd?, spit as lube, kinda rough sex
Summary: Feyd can be himself with you and vents his frustration, no plot, just smut. no beta, appx. 1.8k words.
a/n: no physical description of reader; reader is not shocked by violence, very similar to Feyd himself was my goal anyway.
Feyd swept everything off the table with one stroke. His yell almost vibrated the walls. He was cool, calculated, stoic even, when he was in public. Here, however, just the two of you, he could let the emotions out. The only other place this was possible for him was in the arena. He stood, fists holding his weight on the tabletop, breathing heavily. His brow was furrowed, but began to soften.
You rose from your chair, barely rattled by his outburst. It wasn’t directed at you. As you walked toward him you assessed his state. He was angrier than you had seen in a while. The move from Giedi Prime had been a difficult one. He was honored to be named governor, but there was more here. Something new, perhaps.
You stood next to him, trailed your fingers up his forearm. The muscles and tendons were straining with his anger, like a bow string pulled taught. But at your touch he let his head droop forward just a little. It was enough encouragement that you continued to stroke up his bicep. You let your hand rest on his shoulder for a moment, watching, reading his body. His breathing had slowed but his fists still pressed hard against the table.
“My darling,” you smiled at him. You tilted your head to try to read his face. “What has happened?” He didn’t look up at you, but closed his eyes and growled. He straightened so swiftly that you snatched your hand away.
“My brother,” he finally turned to look at you. “Rabban is useless and has wasted so much time on these… Fremen.” He spat the final word.
You took a step closer to him. You held his gaze as you reached to stroke his perfectly smooth neck, your thumb caressing the back of his jaw, just below his ear. His brow began to relax but his jaw was still clenched tight with rage and frustration.
“You can make up for lost time,” you spoke low and soft. “You can correct his mistakes.”
“I have already taken steps to do so. We have begun preparations to burn them out of their rat holes.” His jaw relaxed slightly. You moved your hand further up his neck, fingers stroking the back of his head. He nearly closed his eyes as he pressed his head lightly into your palm.
Feyd exhaled and looked at you. His black teeth glinted as his lips parted, not in a smile, in something more like a sneer. You knew that look. He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly his hand was on your throat, his thumb pushing your chin up slightly. You smiled at him. He held you this way, not squeezing, for a moment before he leaned in and kissed you. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Feyd was hungry, needy, searching for control.
You gave it to him. You slid your other hand up his chest to his neck and pressed your body against his. You let his tongue rove in your mouth as you moaned quietly. Feyd’s hand slid from your throat to your neck. His other hand gripped your waist firmly. When he pulled away you were more than a little breathless and lightheaded. He grinned at you. He moved your hands off his body and surprised you when he knelt.
He began to slide your pants off your hips and chills spread over your body. He guided you to step out of them. Then he slid his hands up the back of your thighs and cupped your ass in his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you briefly. You licked your lips.
Feyd placed his lips against you, his tongue flicking out lightly to taste you. You grasped the edge of the table as you felt a shiver run up your spine. You tried to watch him, watch his perfect lips on you, but your eyelids were heavy. He licked again. His breath was hot on your skin. When he took you into his mouth you did close your eyes. Your legs shook as he sucked and licked every part of you. He made the most lewd sounds, moaning and growling between your thighs.
You instinctively placed your free hand on his head as the tension in your core tightened. You felt his silent laugh vibrate through you. You were nearly panting with pleasure. Feyd’s hands roamed across your backside, fingers dipping under, between, anywhere he wanted. The sloppy, obscene sounds he made combined with the deft movements of his tongue fueled the heat in your belly. You felt muscles start to clench and relax, clench and relax. He held you steady with one hand on your ass and moved the other to explore where his lips and tongue could not reach. He stroked rhythmically against the exact spot he knew would unravel you.
“Oh Feyd,” you groaned. You stroked his head, trying not to press him hard against you. “I’m so close. Shit. I’m close.” He hummed in response. The feeling of that sound was almost enough to finish you. Then he stopped, leaned back, and looked up at you. You opened your eyes as you dropped your hand from his head. The sudden loss of his mouth from your skin was agony. But the look on his self-satisfied face, those glistening wet lips, his tongue languidly licking them… you had never seen anything as beautiful in your life. He raked his hand across his lips, wiping off the mess. You grinned.
He stood without speaking. His eyes glinted with something almost mischievous and you could see his erection straining against his pants. You swallowed dryly. Then he grabbed you by the hips and turned you to face the table. The force of the movement made you slap your palms on the table’s surface.
“Good,” Feyd growled from behind you. You grinned and shuddered. You could feel his eyes appreciating your exposed position. Then you heard him unfasten his pants. You leaned forward and placed your forearms on the table, giving him a better view. He groaned quietly as he watched. Then he spit on his hand and you could hear him stroking his cock.
Feyd took one step toward you and grabbed your hip. He stroked a few more times then positioned himself at your entrance. He moved his hand to your other hip as he slid in. So very slowly. He exhaled a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. It was a sound of immense pleasure and familiarity. He pulled out slightly and then slid in just a bit deeper, once, twice more, until he was balls deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment. Your eyes were closed, forehead almost resting on the tabletop. You had been murmuring his name and obscenities until he paused.
He pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back into you fully with one stroke. You moaned, open-mouthed. He slid one hand up your back as he repeated the motion. Then he leaned forward just enough to grasp your shoulder for leverage. His cock went further than you thought possible as he pulled you back into his hips. You breathed his name.
At the sound of his name, Feyd began to pound into you. You gasped with almost every stroke. They were deep and long. He began to quicken the pace and you managed to glance over your shoulder. His eyes were focused intently on his cock disappearing inside you. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth. He liked what he saw immensely. You groaned and clenched around his cock. He fucked you harder for that and you let your head drop between your shoulders. The movement of your bodies and the sound of skin against skin were overwhelming. Your panting moans and Feyd’s quick breaths made the heat in your core build and twist. Like the tightening of a spring, you felt your climax building.
He slid his hand from your hip, up your side, and around to your chest. He all but slumped against your back, leaving no space between your bodies, as he pumped harder, faster into you. He tapped a booted foot at the inside of your ankle, signaling you to spread your legs wider. You did. He adjusted his hips and you made an unintelligible sound with his next stroke. It may have been his name, it didn’t matter, his cock hit a spot that made you feel as if you might lose your mind if you didn’t come soon.
Feyd growled with approval at the sounds he brought from you. He made his own delicious noises as he sped up. His grunts pushed you closer to the edge. You felt the coiling, tugging beginnings of your climax. Feyd also felt it, from deep inside you.
“Come for me,” just above a whisper, his voice full of gravel. “Come on my cock for me.” His words broke the dam holding you back. You gasped and cursed. He thrust his cock through the tightening of your muscles as you came. He was relentless. Your mind went blank and you squeezed your eyes closed.
“Fuck!” you yelled as your climax shook you. You leaned heavily against the table for support. Feyd didn’t hesitate or slow. He chased his climax as fiercely as he had brought about yours. The force of his thrusts pushed you closer to the table. You tried to brace yourself but could barely muster the strength.
Feyd barely pulled out at all; short, quick, deep thrusts were what he needed. His fingers dug into your flesh for purchase, leverage, in order to achieve the release he was so close to. You were nearly delirious listening to his muttering and groaning. Then you felt the rhythm falter. His strokes were barely strokes at all, his cocked stayed buried almost completely inside you. On one last thrust he stayed deep in you, his cum spilling out, warm between you.
You gasped as he said your name and ground his hips against you. You were panting, slightly dizzy from overstimulation. His breathing was loud from behind you, but slowing. You dreaded the inevitable: he would pull away from you and the empty feeling would seem, momentarily, stronger than the aftershocks of your climax. You didn’t whimper as he pulled out of you. You bit down on your lip and let your head drop back to the table.
Feyd chuckled. You looked at him as you slowly straightened up. He was tucking his cock back in his pants. You shot him a playfully suspicious glance.
“Thoroughly ruining you always improves my mood.” He grinned as he watched you stand shakily. He took your chin in his hand, between thumb and forefinger, and kissed you quickly and deeply. He pulled back and looked in your eyes. You smiled at him. His face was relaxed, all of his frustrations spent inside you.
Masterlist (with more Feyd)
#I wrote this really quickly instead of doing everything else I was supposed to do today#feyd x reader#feyd fanfic#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha#feyd#feyd x gn!reader#feyd rautha x gn!reader#feyd x you#feyd oneshot#feyd rautha fic#feyd smut#x reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#austin butler#dune fanfiction#feyd fanfiction#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha smut#feyd rautha x gender neutral reader#x poc reader
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Satoru Gojo, the strongest, who cared only about dominating the court suddenly cared only about you. Him and his team were practicing for a game next week in the school gym when he noticed you sitting among the crowd of spectators. Whenever him and his team practice, the students in school will always come watch in their free time. He recognized some familiar faces, but you, he doesn't recognize you. He had never seen you here before, and something about you dragged his attention towards you.
Satoru, who never misses a shot when he has his hand on the ball, suddenly misses? Dead silence. His team stared at him with confusion and disbelief that the Satoru Gojo missed a shot. His best friend and teammate, Suguru, came up to him with concern in his eyes and asked– "Are you alright, Satoru?"
Satoru runs his hand through his hair and huffed out a fine to his best friend. What the fuck just happened to him? Must have been a fluke he said to himself as his eyes wandered towards the crowd who was gossiping about his failed shot. His eyes then wandered towards you who was staring right at him. His eyes widen when you caught him staring at you before quickly turning away. His heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable pace. He noticed Suguru and his teammates still staring at him with concern in their eyes.
"C'mon, let's continue practice," he sighs. "I just got distracted. It won't happen again."
The team was reluctant to continue practice because no matter how distracted Gojo was, he had never missed a shot. He could practically play a game with his eyes closed and not miss, but all of a sudden, he missed? As practice continued, Satoru made no other mistakes. He didn't miss again, but every time he scores, his eyes always end up wandering towards you.
Fuck. What the fuck is happening to him? Why can't he stop his eyes from going towards you whenever he scores? Why is he so focused on the way your eyes light up in awe as he makes every shot? The way you wet your soft looking lips with your tongue as you stood at the edge of your seat. You were a sinful sight to behold.
When practice ended, Satoru quickly left the court to go to the locker room. As he pushed past his teammates, he noticed their confused expression. Their confusion was understandable because, normally, Satoru would be the last one to their locker room. Satoru loves attention, so he would always give out fan services when practice or a game ends. However, this time, Satoru was quickly pushing open the gym door to escape, and his eyes wander towards you one last time before completely exiting the gym. He doesn't like what he's feeling right now. It was suffocating, but it's ok, right? Today was just a one-time thing. Oh, how wrong he was.
Since that day, he noticed that you always were there during their practice. He knows you're not from his school because of your uniform, so who exactly were you? Who allowed you in? And why is it that he couldn't get enough of you? Why did you suddenly show up in his life out of nowhere?
Satoru sat down on the bench as the other continued the practice game, wiping his sweat with his towel as he secretly watched you. You who had his under some kind of spell. You who he hasn't spoken one word to since the day he saw you. He wanted you to say his name. Hear the syllables of his name come out of your soft looking lips. Gojo wasn't dumb. He just likes pretending to be, so it doesn't help that he knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what he was feeling, and it was downright stupid. Fuck love at first sight. It shouldn't exist. He shouldn't want to kiss you. He doesn't even know your name! He groans as he run his hand through his hair again. He curse at himself before he felt something cold touch his cheeks.
"What caught your eyes, Captain?"
Satoru took the water bottle from Shoko's hand and took a big sip. "What are you doing here, Shoko? Don't you have that medical test or whatever to study for?"
Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment– "That was yesterday Gojo. So are you just going to ignore my question? Clearly, something is up for you to miss your shot a few days ago."
"No idea what you're talking about," Satoru replied as he fixed his hair. "Didn't miss nothing."
"Right. It's not like the whole school was gossiping about you missing for the first time."
"These people and their big mouths..." He mumbles. Funny coming from him since he himself would have done the same if the situation was flipped.
Shoko looked toward the place Gojo was eyeing and then saw you. She blinked once and then looked back at Gojo before huffing out a small laugh. Someone is going to be in for a surprise.
"That's his sister, y'know?"
"Not funny, Shoko," Satoru said before looking at Shoko's expression. She was serious. You and your brother look nothing alike. He sighs before mumbling a curse under his breath.
"Oh fuck indeed," Shoko laughs again as she turned towards the gym door. "Going to need some sweets?"
"Yeah, I'll pay you back later."
"Free of charge today. My compensation for this free entertainment. It's going to be an interesting few days." Satoru was now left to his own thoughts. He couldn't help but sigh at his predicament.
Satoru never got the chance to speak to you. Whenever he tries to go towards you, he stops and turns away. He couldn't help but be nervous when it comes to you. It's not his fault that he thinks he'll faint from hearing your voice. He'll talk to you one day when the opportunity arises. It seems fate had granted him his wish. Satoru had met you outside one morning right before his team game. You had accidentally bumped into him while rushing.
"Ouch!" You rubbed your nose from the sudden collision before looking up at him with your innocent and beautiful eyes. Oh fuck. Your voice was music to his ears. He just gone to heaven and what made it even worse was how you looked. Why the fuck do you look so pretty this early in the morning? He himself could barely get out of bed for today's game. His hair is messy and all over the place. His shirt is not all the way buttoned, and his tie is hanging loosely over his neck. If he didn't have a game today, he would be at school getting scold. He just looked like a mess compared to you. Sure, he is a hot mess right now, but this was not the impression he wanted to give when he talked to you. He listened to your endless apologies before interrupting with a question.
"You coming to the game?"
"Huh?" You stopped your apologies at his sudden question before his question clicked. You didn't know he noticed you during his practices. Your eyes instantly light up and grab his hand. "Yes, I am! I'm very excited since it's my first time witnessing a game! I've been to your practice for a while because of my brother's invitation. Oh, my brother is–"
As you continued your rambling, Satoru's eyes were fixated on the fact that you were holding his hands. Your small and soft hand holding his. He stopped your rambling by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. An intimate act. You looked up at him in confusion, and before you could say anything, he was tugging you along.
"Making sure you don't get lost on the way. Let's walk together to the stadium." An excuse to keep your hand in his even though you were practically strangers. He made sure you couldn't let go.
When the two of you finally arrived at the stadium, he had to let you go. He didn't want to let go, but he had to go towards the locker room so he could change into his game uniform.
"Name is Satoru Gojo. Call me Satoru. Let's hang out after the game today." He then brought your hand towards his lips and kissed it. His eyes moved up towards your eyes, holding your gaze as he whispered– "Keep your eyes on me." He then quickly left towards the locker room, his ears burning from his sudden boldness. While he can dominate the court, you have dominated his heart.
When he entered the locker room, his team was already getting ready for the big games. He quickly went to his locker beside his best friend and started to undress his school uniform. Suguru was already ready for the game, so he was sitting on the bench in the locker room, drinking some water.
"I'm in love with your sister," Satoru blurted out, causing Suguru to immediately spit out the water he was drinking. Confusion and disbelief were written all over his face.
"What?"
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#satoru gojo drabble#gojo satoru drabble#gojo satoru imagine#jjk imagines#satoru gojo imagine#gojo satoru headcanons#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#jjk#satoru gojo x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x reader
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At the local lake, this is around the time of year when they do the fish stocking. It's artificial, but it happens to the real lakes, too. Right now, the water is finally thawed out just enough that the park supervisor can roll up a big ol' truck full of fish and dump them into the water. They'll live happy, contented lives in the lake, unless they bite a hook, are abducted by clever seagulls, or someone finds the drain plug at the bottom again like they did back in August of '88 and lets all the water out.
Because the park is really cheap, the community association was looking for someone to pick up the truck, fill it with fish, and drive it to the lake. Since I had no real job at the moment, and needed something to check off the "community service" section of my parole documents, I decided to volunteer. Long-time readers may recall that I also have a small amount of affection for the operation of internal-combustion automobiles, which is a bonus.
Everything went great at the pickup. It turns out that my buddy Halvin was working in the town motor pool and made sure to give me the oldest, shittiest GMC Kodiak in the lot because it would make me more comfortable. What a guy. I was so overjoyed that I didn't even tell him it was me who backed over his mailbox last Christmas. Why ruin the moment?
After some hot twin-stick action to get across town, I was at the fish hatchery. You might not be familiar with one of these things, if you live a boring life. Me, I'm here at least once a year, mostly because their dumpster always has a lot of only-slightly-expired silicone sealants thrown away in it. It was here that I encountered my primary obstacle in completing Mission: Fish Flow.
As for what happened next, the exact details are still being worked out by my attorney. In my defence, however, I have been authorized to state that having over one thousand fish in the back of your 1970s cargo truck should qualify you for the car-pool lane, even if you do ram a state trooper, who – by the way – was riding in the car all by himself, the fucking hypocrite.
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hiiii!!🩷 how are you?
I saw that you would like some requests in the #batmom so I have a fic idea
The idea is about each one of the batboys says to Batmom "your not my real mother" like angst/fluff and how would the bat mom react to it and handle it
Not my mother.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Batmom
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: None (?), idk english that well 💀
Synopsis: He loves you , or maybe not?
—
"Jason, this is crazy. How do you have all F's 3 weeks into the semester?"
A disappointed Batmom stood in front of 13(?) year old Jason Todd. She had a frown drawn on her face. Jason looked down, sad that he is disappointing you and angry at himself.
"Do you not do your homework when I tell you to?" She asks a little more assertive while reading all the negative comments the teachers had left.
"I don't know." He responded quietly.
"How do you NOT know?" She was getting heated and it was clear in her tone. "All I want for you is to do your best and you don't even listen to me."
"I do listen to you." He speaks louder, aggressiveness in his tone.
"Jason Peter Todd, do not get an attitude with me because you have consequences to your actions. Now what is going on with you sleeping in class and not paying attention?" Your hands were now on your hips.
"Why do you even care?" You using his middle name made him mad.
"I am trying my best to make sure my son is set up to do good in life." Your hands now on your hips, "Until these grades are fixed, you are to not go on patrol because that is probably the root of these issues."
Jason was at this point angry. You were scolding him like a little kid, on top of that what's Batman without his Robin.
You we're about to walk away but then,
"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOTHER, YOU PHONY, I CAN DO WHAT I WANT."
You stopped dead in your tracks. How do you respond to that? You just want what's best for your sweetest Jason.
You turned back to face him, his face was red probably from anger. You were pale, trying to process what your son had said.
"You know what..." You trailed off, "I'll just let your father handle this." You sat down the paper before walking off leaving Jason alone.
Which after he picks up the paper and looks at it.
Oh dear. What has he done?
It's obvious you were actually just caring for him. He was processing everything himself. He just got so angry, angry because he was sad that you were disappointed.
—
In your bedroom shared with your loving husband, you cried endlessly.
Have you failed as a mother? You just want your son to do his best. You didn't understand why he would say that. Maybe you just came off in the wrong way and it triggered him to go off on you.
Just as you were lost in your thoughts Bruce walked in.
"I was looking—" He stopped when he saw you crying and rushed to your side.
Dearest Bruce Wayne only had a soft spot for his wife and kids.
His arm wrapped around you tightly as your cried into his shoulder.
"What happened?" He asks.
"Well Jason brought home bad g—" You stopped for a minute to gasp in between sobs, "Home bad grades and then I was scolding him but I didn't mean to come off wrong and I told him not patrol and then he said.."
"He said what?"
"He said I'm not his real mom!" You exclaimed then cried harder. "I know it's true but I love him so much and it still hurts."
"Y/N, darling." He grabs your chin with his fingers so you're looking his eyes. "You know he probably didn't mean it. He is probably still adjusting to us too. It still won't slide though, I'll talk to him, ok?"
You nod as he pecks your cheek.
—
You were knocked out cold. You probably fell asleep while crying. But your awaken when you feel a smaller body climb in the bed next to you in the bed.
You wanted to smile but you were still half asleep and upset. You roll over to face the figure.
"Hey Y/N." The voice spoke.
"Hi Jay." You responded softly, the tone of sadness in your voice even though you tried to cover it up. However, Jason Todd knew that his mother was upset and he frowned.
You two faced each other while laying there in silence. This lasted for about two minutes before he broke the silence.
"I'm sorry I said what I did."
"I know. It's ok."
"Then why are you do sad?" He questioned.
"Words hurt sometimes Jay and I know you didn't mean it but it still felt like a dagger to my heart."
He frowned even more. He hurt you. The woman who is his mother figure and cares so much for him.
"But I will always forgive you my little one. I'm sorry for being a bad mother." You apologized.
"You're not a bad mother, you're a perfect mother. I'm just a kid who didn't understand you were doing your job until after." He said.
"Jay, I just want you to do good, and always follow your dreams."
"I will mom, I promise." When he said mom you smiled.
He scooted closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.
This was a mothers love, that is what made you his mom.
"I love you mom."
"I love you most, Jason."
#fanfic#bruce wayne#batmom#bruce wayne x reader#damian wayne x batmom#dc comics#bruce x reader#jason todd x batmom#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason peter todd#dcu#dc universe#dick grayson x batmom#tim drake x batmom#bruce wayne x batmom
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“The Same Place as the Music” Lighting & Color
“Where is the light coming from?” “The same place as the music.” Andrew Lesnie, Cinematographer of LOTR
How & Why It's A Problem
If I had to summarize the frustration I have with this topic in one image, I'd use JeCorey Holder's (queer Black creative!) meme:
Now here's the thing. I'm not saying you have to be a master at lighting. I'm surely not. Hell, I still play around with lighting in my art in ways that aren’t the ‘most realistic’. You can’t ask me the technical explanations behind ‘color theory’ or 'contrast' without me doing some more reading. However… I don’t think anyone needs an art degree to understand this point:
We should be able to SEE your brown skinned Black characters!
I brought this up in my lessons about skin tones and blushing, and it applies with lighting as well. If all of your other characters have focused light and shadows, so should your Black characters.
However, this does NOT mean making them lighter-skinned!!!!
It's not funny nor logical at all to suggest that they somehow can't be seen like your other characters when you’re the one creating the piece. It's like a classic fifth-grade racist joke, “You blend in at night”. Har-de-har.
I was once rudely told to my face (well in the DMs) that a Black character that was completely Europeanized looked like that “because of the [sepia] lighting”. So I'm going to give you all, gracious readers, an example to show that that's not true.
This is Ana Flávia, Afro-Brazilian model! Gaze upon her beauty! Notice how in both of these filters, Ana did not, in fact, turn into a white woman! Because, my friends, that is not how that works! At all!
Here are some other examples of Black people in non-color lighting:
None of these people vanished from the frame just because there was no color. They didn't have to paint on lighter makeup to be captured by the camera. What do they all have in common (in this example)?
Lighting!
Now let’s discuss different ways to think about and potentially try instead!
What I want you all to keep in mind, is that the art you’re painting:
And I know that's silly right, like yeah no shit Ice, we knew that. BUT my point here is don’t be afraid to study photography, theatre, and staging for ideas. They actively work with light! It’s why I share so many images of models; it’s purposeful, focused staging of light with many of these compositions!
Brown-skinned Black people- brown-skinned people in general- GLOW in the light! Our skin reflects environmental light! There’s so much opportunity to play with that, and you can see different examples in those mediums.
Here are a couple articles of lighting in film focused on Black actors.
When lighting a person with dark complexion, the answer is not LIGHTENING THE SKIN, it’s understanding how light reflects off of dark skin.” -Nilah Magruder
Nilah Magruder (Black creator!) has an ENTIRE, thorough and wonderful essay on the topic, far better than I could give! She incorporates the use of cameras, lighting, painting, and more- so rather than be redundant here, I'm going to spotlight (ha see what I did there. It's okay, I know I'm funny) her and her explanation.
Incorporating Blackness in Color/Colorful Lighting
@dsm7 has an excellent and short visual explanation of how picking certain colors will lead to washing out or whitewashing Black characters, and how certain lighting and backgrounds (think the black and white photos on brighter backgrounds) will change the way their skin tone looks.
@nicosbighead has one of my favorite images on here, that shows how many different colors can still be used to convey the image of Blackness. Notice how all those pinks still worked?
@gaksdesigns has a beautiful picture here that I feel utilizes the light in a very minimal yet effective way to show highlights even on a palette that's fully brown.
This article approaches from a lighting perspective via filmmaking, but essentially Sade Ndya suggests instead of increasing the amount of light, change the color/lens of the light based on your character’s skin, as well as for the circumstances of the scene. They'll remain vibrant that way, and you’ll still capture what you need.
I know one way I do this on CSP (I think I’ve mentioned this but I can’t remember) is to use the Add Glow tool with the same or a similar shade of the character’s brown skin tone as a highlight under natural light, or maybe use different colors or filters depending on the sort of light on their skin at the time.
Here’s a reddit about it too, just because I know y’all value Reddit on here, and someone else discussed the topic that both Nilah and Sade discussed.
Is It Intentional?
There are going to be times where you intend for the light to be minimal. Maybe it’s a style choice. That should still show purposeful composition. Here’s an interview with famed Black director Ava Duvernay discussing the intentional darkness on Black actors in the prison scene in the movie Selma. To show that they're both trapped in prison AND that Martin is temporarily low on resolve- it's a part of the story that's being told.
I'm always talking about this: there is a difference between intention (and following through), and neglecting to think about it at all. And neglect isn't what we want, because often we can tell visually when it is- when an artist simply did not think to do it for one versus the rest.
Sidenote, on Youtube in the suggestions after Ava's interview, are also plenty of videos discussing lighting for dark-skin as well- why not take the chance to look?
Conclusion
We do not lack for light! We aren’t flat and lightless when you see us in life. It's actually a pretty awesome part of being brown-skinned. If you’re giving proper, flattering lighting to everyone else, give it to us as well. Study and experiment with ways to highlight brown skin.
You already know what I’m going to say. It’s going to take practice, same as anything else, because it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
#creatingblackcharacters#character design#black characters#black art#black character design#black artists
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AITA for telling my mom I don't like it when she slaps my ass? potential tw
so I (22 trans m) currently live with my mom (65), and I've always had issues with how she interacts with my body. today she woke me up to try on a pair of pants I bought yesterday before she washed them, and I asked her if she could stop staring at me while I took my pajama pants off to try on the jeans. she pushed back and laughed it off saying it didn't matter, so I had to change in front of her cause she refused to leave the room. this has happened many times before where she insists on watching me change, even when I'm completely naked, despite me asking her not to.
I put the pants on and she immediately comes over to inspect how they fit for herself, tugging on the waistband and looking them over, then promptly slaps my ass. I immediately recoil and tell her I didn't like it and I want her to stop, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes at the suggestion. I tell her it's weird because we've had this conversation before since her slapping my ass is a frequent occurrence, and like usual, she insists there's nothing weird about it because she's my mother and she isn't doing it to be sexual. when she does this, she usually says, "I birthed that ass, so I'm allowed to slap that ass if I want to." I tried to tell her that I'n an adult and I should be allowed to tell her when I don't like something she does to me, and I was visibly pissed off and kicked her out of my room to go back to bed.
I could hear her in the other room walking around saying loudly, "ohh, so I'M aaaaalways the problem. I'm the problem, of course," in like a mocking tone because she clearly thinks I'm in the wrong. I know she's an asshole for a lot of other reasons (she's pretty transphobic and doesn't respect my name, pronouns, or that I'm on hormones, and she frequently takes out her anger issues on me by yelling at me if I even look at her wrong when she's mad), but this one has been bothering me a lot since I moved back home after college (I'm also unemployed and wouldn't be able to move out for a while despite already wanting to get away from her)
for further context, she's always had a specific way of interacting with my body that I think is weird but she refuses to see it. she insisted on personally bathing me into middle school, then continued to say that I needed her help to shower correctly even up to now, so she frequently walks into my bathroom or bedroom when I'm entirely naked and will look my body over and I'm not a fan of it. she also still tries to force her way into changing rooms if we go shopping together so that she can have the final say in how I look in clothes, and she never even wants to turn around or wait outside while I strip.
I've tried to get her to stop before but she keeps doing it, insisting that she's my mother so she's allowed to, even though I'm an adult who hasn't lived with her for the past four years and is very autonomous, so it's not like she still does everything for me. she also pushes back and says that if I think it's weird then it must mean I've been assaulted before and that's why I don't like it when she touches me. I'm also autistic and don't like frequent hugs or any kind of touching and she doesn't like it when I tell her to stop doing that too, but her slapping my ass and insisting on seeing me naked is the stuff that really bothers me, the rest I tolerate just so I don't have to argue with her all the time.
I've asked friends before if they think it's weird she does this, but she's so insistent that she should be able to touch me whenever and however she wants just because she's my mom and that she can look at me naked because she birthed me and has seen me naked before, so why is it different now that I'm a full on adult. I honestly don't know who's in the wrong for this specific thing and if I'm over exaggerating like my mom says I am, but I'm so sick of her touching me when I tell her not to that I needed to poll answers, so:
am I the asshole for telling my mom to stop slapping my ass and insisting on looking at me while I'm naked despite being an adult and asking her not to?
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Strap in, fuckers. This is a long one.
I've seen a lot of discourse and discussion recently about why TMAGP isn't resonating with listeners as much as TMA did, with a lot of people pointing towards the infrequent structure of each episode and the lack of subtlety that TMA had once excelled in. And while both of these are true, I think the main culprit that has caused these problems for listeners is one thing: the pacing.
TMAGP is only going to be 60 (Edit: 90) episodes long, compared with TMA's absolute behemoth of 200. When I'd found out about this, I'd assumed that it meant TMAGP would have a much smaller story - not having to establish as much information as TMA did, and allowing the story to have lower stakes as a result. This certainly wasn't a bad thing, as many sequels that have tried to one-up their predecessors have gone disastrously wrong, but I knew that the structure would be different to TMA as a result.
However, from the 12 episodes that we've seen so far, it appears that TMAGP is going to have similar levels of stakes to TMA - not the same stakes, of course, but they'll likely be on close to equal footing. This means that TMAGP has to establish the same amount of information to listeners with significantly less time to do it in, and the pacing has to speed up to adhere to that. In the first 12 episodes of TMA, we had established one possible recurring statement character (Gerry), a disturbing worm woman (Prentiss), and the fact that Jon doesn't like his assistant and refuses to believe any of the statements. In the first 12 episodes of TMAGP, we've established every important protagonist and what they sound like, two recurring statement characters (Bonzo and Ink5oul) with one that has already physically appeared, much of Sam's backstory and his ties to the Magnus Institute and the fact that something is deeply wrong with their workplace. That is a big difference.
This difference in pacing is what I believe is turning listeners away from what they'd originally enjoyed about TMA, because there's no longer that warm, comforting atmosphere when you listen to it. Its sound isn't designed to come from a tape recorder and a tape recorder only anymore; it's no longer a sit-down and listen to the Archivist tell you spooky stories for 20 minutes anymore; and, like I mentioned earlier, the structure is no longer the same throughout each episode. The horror anthology aspect, whilst still being there, has now taken a back-burner to the metanarrative because so much has to be established in so little time. To many, that's a bad thing. They listened to the original because they liked the statements, and the little things connecting them hinted to a much larger story at play. When this story was revealed, we got to see Jonny Sims and his brilliant prose at its best, because there was no longer anything to hide and the statements were in their purest forms - no longer having to establish information to the audience, and simply basking in the fear.
I'm sure we'll get to see the same thing in TMAGP once the narrative reaches that point, but the current pacing has uprooted a lot of listeners' expectations for the show. I'm going to listen to the entire thing, personally; yeah, it's different, and it doesn't deliver the same vibes and comfort as TMA did, and I probably won't be able to fall asleep whilst relistening to the more obscure episodes like I could before, but in a frankly disturbing way, I'm still fascinated with what Jonny, Alex and the other writers have created. This type of horror is the only kind that I genuinely enjoy, and I'm excited to see what direction Protocol goes in.
Edit: I feel like I should clarify that I don't see this comparison as something that takes away from TMAGP. Alex has said that it's going to be different from the get-go, and I do think that comparing it to TMA is an exercise in futility to an extent. I just wanted to talk about the shows together because I feel like they complement one another, and the narrative beats that I've talked about are less to do with TMA on its own and more to do with general narrative structure. We have buildup, payoff and pacing no matter what show it is, because that's what makes a story. I think TMAGP could be taken a little bit like Deltarune in terms of its relation to the original source material: separate entities with some overlap in character and themes. At the end of the day, it's still early days for the show and this entire spiel could just end up gathering dust - I just think it's a cool thing to think about, and it gives me an excuse to infodump about how pacing can affect a narrative and the audience's response to it.
I wrote this while my cat was laying on me. Have a picture as a reward for reading this whole thing.
#the magnus protocol#tmagp#writing#tmagp theory#tmagp spoilers#tmagp vague#tma#the magnus archives#magnus archives#magnus pod#the magnus universe#the magnus institute#this isn't my usual post but i write fantasy and horror in my free time#i'm certainly not qualified enough for this to be considered the one and only take#but i've been thinking about it and i think it's kind of interesting#this pacing is actually pretty conventional for horror podcasts#but because we're used to tma levels of pacing it feels contrived#i'm just an aspiring writer guys don't take this too seriously
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Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Mean Eddie series, part five.
Mdni. This is a tiny bit angsty but mostly complete fluff because I think we need that after the last four parts. 💞
This is the final part.
If you have any requests then let me know 💞
💌💞
You approach Eddie during lunch. He immediately stops chatting to his friends and gives you his full attention. Fuck what were you doing? Did you really want to give Eddie the chance to hurt you again?
He must have left the flowers for a reason though and you're determined to find out why. Was it his way of an apology? An olive branch? Did it mean he missed you?
Fuck. The constant loop of anxiety and questions were making you stressed. His eyes light up when he sees you and you're sure you're experiencing whiplash. One minute he was an asshole then the next he was excited to see you?
Be strong. Don't be fooled by those pretty eyes again, you steel yourself and ignore the way your heart skips a beat. You can do this.
"I got your flowers. They were beautiful, thank you. It's not going to fix you being an asshole though" Eddie smiles softly and nods.
"I know that princess. I just wanted to make you smile", ooh he could be a charmer when he wanted to be.
"Wait, what the hell is going on?" Mike asks confused and Dustin rolls his eyes along with Lucas and Gareth.
"Dude, wake up. There's obviously something going on there. Do I have to tell you everything?" Dustin sighs exasperated and Mike looks between you and Eddie.
"She's from the dark side" he yelps and Eddie fixes Mike with a warning look. "Yeah, no shit Wheeler, I don't want to hear one word against her. You got it?"
Mike nods and you can't help but be amused and slightly touched by Eddie's protectiveness. Still could he not have been more like this earlier?
"Could you not have had that attitude earlier Eddie?" His cheeks darken and he holds your gaze.
"I'm sorry sweetheart. I've been a dick but I'll make it up to you. However long it takes for you to forgive me. I'll wait"
...
💌
Eddie is endlessly patient, he picks you up from school every day and takes you home. He kisses your hand before you head into your house and says, "Until next time sweetheart"
It's lovely but there's still the fact the two of you really need to talk and the next time that he drives you home you turn to him and ask to talk.
"Eddie, so much has happened and I need to know what we are, I'm confused. One minute you're blowing hot and cold and now you...
Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours "I miss you" he murmurs and you're confused.
"But you said this was just sex. Nothing has changed" he swallows and his brown eyes soften when they look at you.
"That's what I thought, but not anymore, I miss being with you" you've dared to hope before and got your heart broken. You can't keep doing this to yourself.
"You miss the sex" you murmur and he shakes his head looking frustrated.
"Yeah I do because it's fucking mind-blowing princess but I miss you. Being with you, your giggles and your sweetness and just you. I miss you" oh. Well fuck.
Could he not have realised this any sooner, you wipe away your tears and hesitantly step forward and slip your hand through Eddie's. He tightens the hold and brings your hand up to his lips, kisses over your knuckles softly.
"Munson. You have shitty timing" you joke but there is a tiny bloom in your chest of elation.
"I know, I could have figured my shit out way sooner princess but I want this to work. I'm serious" you can tell and squeeze his hand.
"No more fuck ups. I mean it Eddie" you warn him and he gives you a sweet smile.
"Milady, you will be spoiled rotten and treated like the princess you are" his eyes are full of reverence and you can tell he means it.
"Well my brave knight, take me to your castle" he obliges and you head off to his.
💞
Six months later.
"Eddie be serious" you giggle as he trails off from where he was reading you The Hobbit and kisses you, peppers kisses over your forehead and cheeks then your lips.
"Can I help it that my girl is so beautiful and I want to kiss her all the time?" Charmer. You snuggle closer to him and he strokes your hair,
"Love you princess" he says as he holds your gaze and he makes your heart soar and gives you that pesky butterflies, giddy feeling.
"I love you too Eds" he's still smiling, all cute dimples and sweetness. There's a storm outside and it adds to the cozy atmosphere as you snuggle closer to him and he continues to read to you.
Six months since the day you gave Eddie a second chance and every day feels like heaven.
💞💞
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#mean eddie munson series#eddie munson
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I NEED MIKE SCHMIDT TO DEGRADE ME (a smut)
nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | dom!mike (omg?) | porn with little plot | unprotected sex | choking | degradation | lotssss of dirty talk | pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) | no use of y/n
mike’s new job was simple. he only has to worry about two things. all he has to do was keep the place tidy and keep people out.
he hated himself for losing his old job as a security gaurd at the mall because, despite not enjoying have to be in a loud, public space all the time, he grew fond of the people there.
he liked jeremiah. he didn’t get on his nerves the way most people do. talking to him kept him from getting lost in his thoughts, which he liked.
he also grew fond of cindy, the girl who works at the ice cream shop. sand he didn’t want to think of telling any she wouldn’t be able to get ice cream that much anymore, if at all.
mike sighs as he realizes he was trapped in his thoughts again. his mind was something that always kept him entertained for hours, but it also left a lingering pain in his chest when he thinks about what he could have done differently.
mike opens the door of his old, rusty car and stares at the pizzeria across the parking lot. this dump used to be a place for kids to hang out? mike wonders what the old building looked like before it shut down. he imagines he and garrett would have went there when they were kids, or maybe if it was still open to this day, he would have taken abby. he smiles at the thought of abby enjoying the arcade.
mike walks up to the double doors and glances around. he quickly found the security pad and types in the numbers raglan had told him.
a loud click came from the door when he clicks the green button on the security pad. he steps to his left and grabs one of the hands on the metal door, pulling it open.
the door creaks loudly as mike opens the door. he wishes more than anything he could turn around and get in his car, go home and forget any of this ever happened. but deep down he knew he had to do this for abby.
mike steps inside the mostly-unoccupied place and frowns. the room smells stale, and he can practically see the dust in the air. it was a creepy place, and mike wonders what the point is of watching a place no one has been inside in over 20 years.
mike didn’t see a point to a security job here, but he was thankful raglan was kind enough to give him the job. he didn’t like the man, but he was thankful he saw enough potential in him.
mike hears a loud slam from behind him and almost jumps out of his black sneakers.
“what the hell?” mike whisper-shouts, completely caught off gaurd.
mike turns around to see the door he left open now shut. must be an automatic door, mike thinks. he feels silly for getting so scared.
mike looks up at the posters on the walls, torn and scratched along the thin paper. the words read out “freddy fazbear’s pizzeria” at the top.
mike crosses the lobby and looks down the hallway in front of him. the hallway walls are painted in the same red-and-white stripes mike had seen in the lobby. they are also lined with large posters.
these posters, however, weren't pizzeria advertisements. they look like children’s art, similar to abby’s. some of the posters have images of pizzas and playing children. the rest of the posters feature portraits of odd-looking cartoon animals. one of the images was of a brown bear wearing a bow tie and a top hat. there was a bright yellow chick wearing a bib and holding a googly-eyed cupcake, a bluish-purple bunny gripping an electric guitar, and a fox wearing an eye patch and a hook on his hand.
“i should probably just find the office”, mike whispers to himself after examining the drawings. mike speed walks through the hallway and briefly looks around the main area, studying the purple curtained stage. he assumes that’s where people in costumes would perform, and he doesn’t dwell on the thought any longer.
mike continues through the eery building until he reaches a door he assumes leads to the office. mike sighs in relief as he lays his hands on the metal doorknob, thankful he was able to find it with ease.
mike turns the handle and pushes the door open, heart beating in his chest. the door creaks, much like the front door to the building, and he tenses up more than usual.
the office was dark, only dimly lit by a red bulb above a large breaker box. his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and blood.
mike’s nose twitches as he looks around the small office space. he decides he might as well get used to the smell and familiarize himself with the space, since he was going to be spending a lot of time in it.
the office was pretty vacant for the most part. it contains a long, narrow metal desk, which sat in front of a matching credenza. a small black fan and a landline phone next to an answering machine sat on it, as well as an old tv sitting on top of an equally old vcr, a desktop computer, and several cctv monitors, stacked on a rack at the back edge of the desk. two gray metal filing cabinets were pushed against the wall opposite the desk.
mike tries to ignore the feeling of anxiety that doesn’t seem to move from his stomach while he studies the room. he doesn’t like the long claw marks on the floor, they made him feel no better than the smell.
mike sighs and sits down in the old office chair, not surprised by it’s discomfort. he looks at the vhs tape in front of him titled “mike” and cocks an eyebrow.
it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.
♡•♡•♡
the first hour of the night was pretty boring. occasionally, mike would flip through the cameras and scan the place, but for the most part, he just stayed in the office and watched the cameras.
mike glances at the clock on the wall in front of him and frowns.
“1:38” the clock reads.
“four more hours of this bullshit” mike groans, flipping through the cameras once more.
something caught his eye this time, though. in the main room, there was something moving under the tables. mike’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he notices.
mike brings his face closer to the computer and squints his eyes. as if the thing was mocking him, the movement stops.
“what the hell?” mike whispers, fully accepting he will be subconsciously talking to himself to fill the emptiness of the air.
mike gets up from the chair slowly and contemplates if he should find out what it is.
it’s probably nothing, mike thinks, but the thought that it could be something there, waiting to attack him, was keeping him still. mike feels silly for freaking himself out with children’s fantasies.
reluctantly, he grabs the flashlight and turns the knob on the door. when he steps into the hallway, the atmosphere seems to have shifted since an hour earlier, as now the earlier unoccupied area felt like someone is watching him.
mike grips the flashlight tightly and turns it on, surprised it works as well as it does. he slowly steps out of the hallway and into the main room, examining every detail of the disheveled place.
he checks under every table and finds nothing, relieved that nothing is there to get him. he continues searching though, making sure nothing is hiding.
he hears shuffling from behind him and practically jumps out of his skin. he spins around and flashes the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a figure scurry behind a trash bin.
mike‘s entire body is screaming at him to run out the front door and drive away, but of course, his curiosity got the best of him.
mike takes a small step forward and grips the flashlight tightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his palm. he takes a few steps forward until he is only a few feet away from the trash bin and lets out a shaky breath.
“hello?” mike blurts out subconsciously. he slaps a hand over his mouth and fights his body’s urge to run. the thing shifts slightly, and mike hears some rustling.
if it is a killer, mike thinks to himself, now they know where i am.
he decides that he should just try to see what it is and hope it’s not someone (or something) trying to kill him.
mike creeps up to the trash can and pushes it to the side quickly, then jumping back before anything can attack him. instead, he’s met with the silhouette of a person with dark clothes on.
mikes eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him, and he rubs his eyes quickly to make sure he’s not hallucinating. behind the trash can, you sit crouched over with your arms over your face, hand covering your mouth.
you wish more than anything that you could make a run for it, but you knew you wouldn’t get very far, considering you’ve already been running only moments earlier. so instead, you try to stay as still as possible, hand over your mouth, hoping that the security gaurd will mistake you for a shadow.
“i’m not stupid, you know,” a hoarse voice addresses you, “i can see you.
you tense up and try to think of any possible way to get out of here, despite the guard being three feet away from you. you move your hand away from your mouth and you chew at your bottom lip, taking a deep breath through your nose.
you finally accept defeat and lift your head up slowly. your open your eyes to be blinded by a bright light in your face and you cover your eyes in agony.
“can you get that shit out of my face, please?” you ask sarcastically, standing up and rubbing your eyes.
the security guard takes the light and points it at the ground, careful not to blind you.
“who the fuck are you and why are you here?” the man curses.
you take your hands away from your face and let your eyes adjust to the new light, examining the man in front of you.
you expect to see a gross old man, but instead you’re met with an attractive, young looking guy. you assume he’s in his late twenties, considering he still has childish features. his messy hair falls against his forehead and curls at the ends. his eyebrows form a crease against his forehead due to his eyebrows being pushed together in annoyance. if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would have thought he was cute.
the man seems to be wondering what your next move is, because his big brown eyes won’t leave yours. you frown when you realize there’s no way to get out of this.
“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you mutter, “this place is a dump.”
“tell me about it,” the man breathes out, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here, does it?”
you try to think of any way you could lie your way out of this, but your mind draws a blank. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, deep in thought. you wish more than anything you could just crawl in a corner and die.
“i was trying to hide from the cops..” you whisper, looking at the ground.
“what?” the man questions, cocking an eyebrow.
“i was trying to hide from the cops.” you repeat, avoiding his gaze.
you look back up at the man to see him staring at you with an annoyed expression, tongue pressed against his cheek.
“what the hell did you do?” the man asks.
“please don’t call the police,” you plead and stand up while moving back against the wall, away from the man.
“why?” he questions and steps closer to you, “scared i’m going to do what i get paid to do?”
you frown when you hear his question, slowly regretting every decision you’ve ever made.
“look, im sorry okay..” you breathe out, looking at the floor, “i just really needed some money.”
the man does nothing. you look back up to see him already staring at you, face contorted into what you assume is anger. it’s hard to see him very well in the dark, but you see the man opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“are you going to tell the police?” you ask, scared you made the wrong decision of telling him the truth.
the guards eyebrows unfurrow for a moment, and you think he’ll actually let you go. then, he gives you the same expression he gave you earlier, only worse.
“you think i wanted this job?” he asks.
“huh?” you blurt out, his question completely catching you off guard.
“do you think i wanted this job?” he says again, looking around the dark room.
you follow his gaze and take a good look around the place as he shines the flashlight around the room. you didn’t even think to look at where you were going when you came inside, the only thing on your mind was not being found. suddenly, you feel a weird feeling in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have come here.
“no..” you whisper, staring at the half opened curtain on the stage.
“exactly,” the guard spits, “but i need money.”
a feeling of shame sits in the pit of your stomach when the guard speaks, and you wanted to cry. you look back to the man again and frown, wishing he would show you some sympathy.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, tears swelling at the brink of your eyelids.
you feel so ashamed right now, standing against the wall while a guard questions you while your eyes are moments away from spilling tears.
“sorry?” the man scoffs and grabs your arm, “sorry you got caught?”
you gasp and try to pull your arm away, but he only grips your skin tighter. he pulls you away from the wall and drags you through the room, despite you trying to break free from his grasp.
“what are you doing?” you cry out, following behind him while he holds you tightly.
the man doesn’t answer, instead pulling you through the hallway until you’re both standing face infront of a large, metal door.
“shit like this makes my job a whole lot harder,” the man groans, pushing open the door. a loud creak echoes through the hallway.
you examine the room through blurry vision. the office was pretty empty for the most part, besides the filing cabinets and desk with computers on them. you try to look for any way to escape before the police arrive. you look for a window, but all you see is a small vent across the room.
“why did you bring me here?” you ask the guard, fully expecting him to dial 911 on the phone that sits on the desk.
“well, i figured that if you don’t want me to call the police like i’m supposed to,” the man starts, letting go of your arm, “i’m sure you could just do my job for me?”
you furrow your eyebrows and frown at the man. you look back to the desk that sits at the end of the room and sigh. on the desk, you see a vhs tape that has “mike” scribbled on the side of it. you figure that is the man’s name. it fits him, you think.
“you want me to sit here and watch the security cameras?”
“that’s what i said, right?” the guard you assume is named mike mocks.
the way he was talking to you made you feel stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel turned on. you felt so ashamed for feeling the way you do about the security guard.
you stare blankly at mike while he awaits your answer that never comes as your mind rushes with thoughts of him doing all kinds of things to you. you felt like a horny teenager all over again.
“i asked you a question.” mike spits, getting obviously more annoyed with you, “what, you can’t think straight?”
you shake your head aggressively and frown, “i’m sorry, i’ll do it.”
mike smirks and grips your arm once more. he pulls you over to the chair but before you can sit down, he stops.
“what are you doing?” he asks, acting completely oblivious.
“um.. i was about to sit down?” you retort.
“aw, but,” he cocks an eyebrow, “this is my seat.”
“where am i supposed to sit?” you ask, confused.
mike sits down on the chair and pulls you by your arm until you’re right in front of him.
“why don’t you sit right here, hm?” he proposes, signaling your gaze to his lap.
you practically choke on your own spit at his words. did this hot man seriously just ask you to sit on his lap?
“what?” you sputter out, thinking you just heard him wrong.
mike smirks at you and pulls at your arm slightly, making you sit on his lap.
“how about this?” mike whispers against the shell of your ear.
oh. my. god. you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell. while you thought it was amazing that the hot security guard asked you to sit on his lap, you were also terrified of making any wrong move, incase he decided he was going to call the police.
you aren’t sure where to put your shaking hands, so you just decide to let them rest on your legs. you shift your body against his lap a few times, trying to get comfortable.
“jesus,” mike moans, “are you that fucking desperate?”
“what?” you ask, and your eyebrows furrow when you feel something hard against your ass. assuming it’s just the flashlight, you reach back to grab it from mike’s pocket. but when he throws his head back and lets out a moan, your hand quickly moves away and claps over your mouth.
“oh my god,” you mutter against your hand, barely audible. “i am.. so sorry.”
mike laughs and the sound sends a chill down your spine, “i’m not stupid, you know?”
before you can say anything, all the words you wanted to say fell from your tongue as mike runs his hands down your body. he lets his hands settle on your waist and you try not to scream. you felt so turned on that you thought you could explode. you try to focus on the cameras like you’re supposed to, but your mind kept running with thoughts of the man who’s lap you’re sitting on. his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass doesn’t make the situation any better, and you wish he could just fuck you already.
you subconsciously grind your hips down against mike’s, swallowing back a moan when he grunts in your ear, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”
you grind your hips down again as an answer and turn back to him, smiling. you find him already staring at you with eyes filled of lust and need, and for a moment, you feel scared. you felt so vulnerable with him, despite only not knowing him for long.
mike pushes you up off of his lap and stands up, pushing his bulge against your ass. your hips are pushed against the desk harshly and you were sure there would be bruises the next morning, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t focus on anything but how much you love the way he is manhandling you right now.
mike brings his head to the side of your neck and kisses harshly, leaving red marks that are soon to turn purple as the night goes on. you moan out when he finds your sweet spot against your collarbone and you rut your hips back against his harshly, begging for friction.
“god,” mike groans against your skin, pulling at your pants, “need to get this shit off of you.”
as mike slowly pulls your pants down, you throw your back in ecstasy.
“please..” you whine, desperate to have his dick inside of you.
“huh? please what?” mike’s hoarse voice whispers, dragging his tongue along your neck.
“please fuck me already.” you cry out, reaching your hands behind your back to grip his jeans and pull them.
“fuckkkk..” mike groans when your hand grazes over his bulge.
mike replaces your hands with his own and pulls his pants down to his thighs, his dick uncomfortably straining in his boxers. mike hooks his fingers on your underwear and pulls them down to your ankles, now with your pants. you step out of your clothes and kick them to the side, discarding them in the corner of the room.
mike tugs at the ends of your shirt to let you know he wants it off, and as quickly as you raise your hands up, he pulls it over your head and latches his lips on yours. it’s kind of hard to kiss him due to your position in front of him, but you have no reason to complain.
his kisses are vulnerable and animalistic, and you have a hard time keeping up. he forces his tongue inside of your mouth and groans when his tongue touches yours, swirling his around your mouth.
the kiss is desperate, how his tongue tangles with yours. it’s filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of lust you both feel for each other.
you know how badly he wants to fuck you. you can tell by the way his mouth is on yours. you pull away from his lips and look at him, examining his beautiful appearance. his impatience is clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling up and down your body as his free hand pulls his boxers down to let his cock free. it springs about against his stomach and he gasps at the feeling of the cool air in the room hitting it.
you crane your neck back to see the tip of his dick leaking with precum and you gasp. he is big. a feeling of anxiety mixed with excitement suddenly washes over you when you see his dick.
“what’s wrong, sweetheart? scared it won’t fit?” he smirks, voice lingering with a sarcastic tone.
you whine at his condescending words and reach your hand back to jerk him off, but he stops you. he clicks his tongue and pursues his lips, then whispers, “just watch the cameras, yeah? i can do all the work.”
you frown when you remember the whole reason he brought you in here was to do his job, but if it meant he would finally fuck you, you really didn’t mind. you turn your head back to the cameras and sigh, doing your best to make mike happy.
when you feel the tip of mike’s cock against your hole, you clap a hand over your mouth and moan against your palm.
“you don’t— have to be quiet,” he grunts, slowly pushing his tip into you, “it’s just us here.”
you take your hand away from your mouth and moan loudly, bracing your hands against the end of the desk for stability.
“so.. fucking tight.” mike moans against your ear.
you whine loudly at the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching you out, despite only the tip being in. your mouth falls open in a silence cry as he pushes into you slowly, trying not to hurt you.
“you can take it,” he murmurs, “you can take all of it.”
his cock stretches your tight walls, filling every inch of you up with his thickness. his calloused hands grip your hips tightly, and his fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks on your skin.
he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, but when you clench around him, he continues moving until he’s all the way inside.
“holy shit..” you gasp, feeling so full and stuffed with his cock inside of you.
nothing comes out of you but incoherent blabbering when he pushes his cock as deep as it will go, and mike stares at you in complete awe.
“shh.. it’s okay.” mike coos against your ear, "just keep your eyes on the cameras. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
you nod your head aggressively and stare at the computers through hooded eyes that threaten to squeeze shut. you writhe against him, tears already falling and staining your cheeks as your legs tremble.
your hole grips mike perfectly, feeling every vein and sucking every last drop of pre cum out of him. after letting you adjust for a while, he starts a slow, steady pace. the feeling of his thick cock moving out of you slowly makes you burn with desire.
mike pulls his dick all the way out of you, leaving you empty and vulnerable. you turn around and whine, but the whine quickly turns into a high pitched moan when he pushes himself back inside of you. you felt like you were being split in half by his thickness.
he pulls out of you completely then pushes himself back in slowly a few more times before starting a steady pace. your legs shake as you grip the desk tightly, trying to stabilize yourself.
“already fucked out?” mike utters, thrusting his cock deeper into you. he lets go of your hip with one hand and firmly wraps his arm around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.
the raspiness in mike’s voice sent pleasure coursing through your entire body, making you lose yourself in the moment.
noticing that your head is dropping a bit, mike uses his other hand to hold your head up to the screens. mike takes a moment to study your features, lit up by the light of the many monitors.
the room fills with the sounds of your moans and cries, along with mikes soft groans he occasionally let slip. the sound of skin slapping against skin causes your mouth to fall open in a choked sob as his dick continues to abuse the spongy spot inside of you.
mike presses his face into the crook of your neck and bites softly at the marked skin, admiring the work he left earlier. he leans in and kisses the corner of your chewed lips before whispering, "you feel—shit, you feel so fucking good."
you let out a strangled noise at his words, blabbering on about how you want his cum deep inside of you.
“yeah? wanna be stuffed full of my cum, hm?” mike purrs against your lips, bringing his hand down to wipe the tears that stain your cheeks.
you clench around him and moan loudly, rutting your hips back against his while trying to match his rhythm. a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through you when he begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace, and your legs tremble harshly.
“fuckkk..” mike grunts, “use your words, sweetheart.”
you open your mouth and try to speak, but the only thing that falls from your lips is whimpers and whines as he continues to pump himself into you.
“what’s that?” mike taunts, “i can’t hear you.”
you didn’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. the way his words linger in the air with a condescending tone makes you feel stupid. you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you feel dumb on purpose, but you would never admit that it only made you more turned on.
“please!” you cry out, eyes rolling back into your head. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on the sensitive skin there.
mike moans and continues to pound into you, making sure you are watching the screens closely. mike curses under his breath, tightening his grip on you as he fucks into your tight hole.
“jesus— fuck..” you choke out through moans, “i’m gonna cum..”
mike slams his thickness into you harshly, making sure your hole remembers every last detail of his cock.
“yeah? what— fuck, what makes you think you deserve to cum?” mike asks, cutting himself off with a moan.
“please let me cum!” you sob, entire body shaking for your release.
your hole constricts around his cock as you cry out, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap at any moment.
“god, you’re such a fucking whore,” mike keens, “getting fucked.. shit, by a guy you barely know in a security office? it’s— mhmm.. its pathetic.”
mike pulls away from your neck and looks down, admiring the way your hole swallows his thickness. he almost cums immediately when he sees the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.
“mmmnf, please.. please let me cum—!” you moan, squeezing tightly around his cock. the sound of you begging causes his dick to twitch inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you perfectly. you arch your back against him, swallowing every inch of his cock with your hole.
mike fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from your lips. he’s eager to feel how hard you finish around him, and just the thought has him biting back moans.
“want you to make a mess for me, baby.” he rasps out, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “want you to let go and— holy shit, and cum with me. please.”
“i’m gonna— mhmmmm..” his words of approval are enough to send you over the edge, and you finally feel the knot inside of your stomach snap. waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum, your body completely going limp.
mike squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy to chase his own high. “’m cumming.. shit.” he moans, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into you.
mike cries out when he cums, overstimulating your hole as you milk every last drop. his orgasm causes him to topple over into his own bliss, hips stuttering as he lets out high pitched moans.
his cum floods through your ruined walls, and he fucks it further into you until he physically can’t anymore.
his body stumbles forward when he pulls out, watching his sperm drip from your filthy hole. your body is sandwiched between his and the desk while you try to catch your breath, legs shaking involuntarily.
as you both come down from your highs, the room feels like it’s spinning. mike gets off of you and sits back in the chair, pulling you by your hips to sit with him.
“jesus christ,” he breathes, completely fucked out, “that was amazing.”
“thank you..” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
“hey,” mike says, shaking you awake, “you still have to watch the security cameras.”
#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x you#derek danforth#josh futturman#billy burn#clapton davis#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#josh hutcherson is my man#five nights at freddys movie#mike schimdt x reader#mike schmidt fnaf#mikeschmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike fnaf#mike schmidt fluff#michael afton smut#michael afton x reader#michael afton#fnafmovie#fnaf movie#fnaf michael afton#gn reader
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Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages
Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤
I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho
Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺
Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting
Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here
Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words.
“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.”
As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out.
“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face.
“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen.
“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.”
You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled.
Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.”
“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”
___________
It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.
“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly.
There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.
“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin.
“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly.
Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech moved around your stomach.
“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?”
You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y
You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for.
And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.”
Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.”
______
Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual.
A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach.
“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice.
Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach.
“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed.
“Darling, what—”
“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.”
And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started.
Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?”
“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile.
“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both.
“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s.
“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick.
“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side.
“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” Riley x reader
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❤︎ 𝑯-𝑯𝒆𝒚! 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈!
ft. Neuvillette
Synopsis : You're talking about your passion with sparkles in your eyes, but he doesn't really seem to listen to you, probably too distracted as you look way too attractive today...
Warnings : Suggestive; cum mentioned once but nothing implied; making out; he's needy & touchy; only his sight, taste and touch seem to work today :p
After successfully escaping Neuvillette's warm embrace --not without struggling like crazy-- you leave your shared cozy bed, heading towards the kitchen.
The birthday of your friend was only within a day, which was why you were currently baking some sweets for her party first thing in the morning. In fact, she requested this special quest specifically from you for you are the greatest baker she knows. Mixing the sweet ingredients in a bowl, you stop the time to get the muffins out of the oven and place them on the counter. Turning again to mix the crêpe batter, you realize you forgot to add the nearly most important ingredient, sugar. However, before you can turn around, what feels like a rock hard wall comes into contact with your back, soon followed by two strong arms wrapping themselves around your smaller figure along with a burning kiss on your neck. Neuvillette inhales your perfume with a deep hum, causing some vibrations against the sensitive soft skin of your neck that made you tilt your head against his. "Well good morning to you too, love." His massive aura never failed at making you feel vulnerable and oh so tiny compared to his huge body that engulfed your own. With his head resting on your shoulder, including his lips still against your skin where he believes they belong, he only hummed as an answer. "Oh, are you still tired? Why didn't you sleep more?" When you caressed his cheek, your fingers brushed against his eyes, and felt that they were closed. "'Couldn't get any more sleep after you've left." He groaned with his morning voice. Letting out a chuckle that made Neuvillette open his tired eyes, he inhaled more of your sweet and natural fragrance he much adored and tightened his arms around your waist, adding even more kisses on your neck. "N-Neuvillette, I need to go check the rest of the muffins in the oven..." You began, "I can't move."
Even though he absolutely didn't wish to let go of his sweet lover at all, he obliged after giving your neck a lasted open-mouthed kiss. "But darling, why are you baking that quantity of sweets? We're only two here." He inquired as he leans against the counter, taking notice of the muffins fresh out of the oven placed beside him. "Oh it's not for us, it's for Navia's birthday. She asked me to bake her some pastries." He only hummed as an answer again, watching you travel all around the kitchen in your shorts and a sweatshirt you put on over your tank top when you got out of bed, baking with a smile never leaving your face. He eyed you up and down with a mix of love and desire, never looking away of your never ending moving figure. "Do you like that?" He suddenly asked. "Like what?" You replied, still focused on your baking. "Baking, do you like it?" He clarified.
Hearing his question, you turn around and find yourself in front of his tall body in the blink of an eye. As if it was something automatic, he naturally placed his calloused hand in the small of your back and pulled you close to him, only to place his big hands on your waist, stroking it with his coarse thumbs. "I absolutely love it! From the start to the end! From checking if you have all the ingredients, mixing them together, cooking it, decorated it and eat or offer it! I love it all about baking!" As he "listened" to you, it was impossible to miss the sparkles shining oh so brightly in your eyes, the way your charming lips he adores to kiss and coat with his thick hot cum moved as you spoke your passion and shared all the things you loved about it.
Glancing at the muffins beside him, you leaned forward to grab one, brushing lightly your chest against his shirtless and broad one, which resulted in growing his desire for you even more. "Here, taste this one!" You beamed as you offered him one of your sweets, not even knowing he didn't listen to a thing you blabbered about, for he wanted to taste only one thing. And it wasn't the muffin. His hand reached to your wrist, completely wrapping around it and bringing the sugary aliment you're holding to his mouth, finally taking a bite from it with a smirk. Your cheeks flushed for he was still looking into your eyes, while you looked away. "I carefully followed everything the recipe said, and that's also something I really enjoy about baki--" He cut you with a kiss. Neuvillette couldn't take it anymore, he did try his best to resist and listen to you but it just was beyond what he could do. Seeing you intimidated and affected by his actions looking this cute, no, oh boy he couldn't even imagine controlling himself. He replaced his hands on your waist with a single muscular arm, pulling you without delicacy even more close to him, lifting your head with a hand under your chin, fingers on both of your cheeks. He started walking forward slowly while kissing you like a starved man, each kiss more passionate than the previous, making you step back until you reached the counter on the other side where kept you between it and his robust body. "How about you taste it too, love?" Said the Iudex with his deep voice, "But I was talki-", before placing the hand that was on your chin behind your neck, gripping some of your hair to tilt your head backwards and kissing, no, devouring your mouth again. His other hand slid under your sweatshirt and tank top, caressing your skin with the feeling of his calloused hand you fell in love with.
Even though the fact that he didn't listen to a thing you said was quite upsetting, his hot and deep kisses made you forget it all, your mind was soon foggy and the more he kissed you, the more you got dizzy. Your arms slid behind his muscular back by themselves and felt his firm back muscles and large shoulders, sometimes your fingers getting entangled in his long and loose silver hair. Neuvillette finally detached his lips from yours, a string of saliva still connecting them. "It's delicious, truly." He complimented, giving you another kiss.
"Neuvillette! You didn't listen to me at all! Don't think I'll forgive you just like that!" You contested as you catched your breath, face all flushed and swollen red lips, trying to push Neuvillette away. It was no use though, he didn't budge at all. Except, you didn't expect him to lift you princess style and head upstairs to your room. "You'll tell me later, promise. But now, your muffins aren't the only thing I want to taste, dearest." Instead, he threw you back on the bed, a yelp escaping your throat. "But I didn't even finish baking..." You contested again, your voice however lowering and wrapping your arms around his neck, as his lips approached yours, eyelids slowly closing with his bulky figure towering over yours.
With those fervorous kisses of his, you finally abandoned yourself to him to enjoy a passionate morning~
<3
#genshin impact#genshin men#genshin men x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x reader#suggestive#genshin men x y/n#genshin neuvillette#neuvillette#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette genshin#i love this man#wish he would kiss me like this too
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I am not immune to this propaganda…
Do you like long fantasy series, but are tired of authors never finishing them?
Do you like interesting magic systems?
Do you like when characters form intense even psychic bonds with animal companions?
Do you like your heart getting ripped out of your chest and then stuffed back in full to bursting and but then ripped out again to get stomped on but it turns out you like that too uhhh let's call it... intense yearning
Do you like dragons? Of course you do, why else would you be on this blog!
WELL DO I HAVE THE BOOK SERIES FOR YOU!
The Realm of the Elderlings is a 16-book series is comprised of four trilogies and a quartet. All of which have been finished. Yes that's right, Robin Hobb saw other authors who can't seem to finish their multi-book fantasy epics and said "I will finish mine 4 different times to show you it's incredibly easy actually." She also has written multiple other series (some under the pen name Megan Lindholm), set in different universes.
So, where to start?
The components of RotE are:
The Farseer Trilogy
The Liveship Traders Trilogy
The Tawny Man Trilogy
The Rain Wild Chronicles
Fitz and the Fool Trilogy
The three bolded trilogies above are told from the perspective of FitzChivalry Farseer, one of the main/major characters in this universe and my eternal blorbo. The Liveship Traders trilogy and Rain Wild Chronicles are told from several points of view, and happen in chronological order between the series above and flesh out the worldbuilding, lore, history, etc.
For the most complete look at the universe, you can of course read everything. However if you want to stick with just one character, you can read the three bolded trilogies only. And of course, if you don't want to commit to a metric ton of words either way, you can just read the first trilogy and see what you think. Though I do think the levels of joy/pain/adoration increase with each work as you get more invested in the characters, of course.
OR. You can in fact read the Liveship Traders trilogy or the Rain Wild Chronicles quartet completely independently of the others. I actually started with Rain Wild Chronicles because those books have the highest concentration of dragons--it was actually a follower of this blog who recommended them to me, and I decided to jump into those rather than commit to The Whole Series (which at the time was only 13 books not 16). But I loved the writing style and wanted to learn more about the world, so got into the rest, and now I actually think the Rainwilds books are the weakest of the bunch (though I still enjoyed them initially)!
But You're Following This Blog, DailyDragons, So Here's The Part Of The Pitch You're Actually Invested In
Now I will be up front that you don't get many dragons in the first trilogy. There are a kind of dragons that appear at the end but dragons are not the main focus of this one. However Hobb learns from her mistakes about not including tons of dragons in her fantasy world and you get more in the next parts of the series.
The Liveship books deal with sea serpents and dragons in very interesting ways I don't want to spoil, though it's a slow build. But VERY fascinating reveals into the dragon's biology, life history, and magic.
The plot of the later half of the Tawny Man Trilogy revolves around dealing with how the world of this story used to have dragons but they have practically gone extinct. Less direct contact with dragons but still a dragon-centric last book.
Rainwilds is chock full of dragons. Including as POV characters. Can't complain about lack of dragons here at all.
Fitz & The Fool Trilogy is lighter on the dragons at first and then they show up en force at the end. Ta da!
anyway please read these books and join me in my eternal suffering. wait, suffering? nevermind who said that. shhh. it's fine. you will love fitzchivalry farseer. you will love the fool. you will never be the same again.
#realm of the elderlings#THANK U FOR GIVING ME A HANDY DANDY SOAPBOX#lise-thethinker#i am always ready to weep about these books publically#i have read the entire series uhhh. 3 times? and condensed version 4 times#since i first read them in 2015#WHEW. yeah. god i love them#ramblings#not dragon art#i guess
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C.B: 1 New Voicemail
Paring: Carmy Berzatto x Reader
Summary: You decided to leave the fresh coast to pursue your art in NYC. However, you fail to mention it your best friend… Carmy Berzatto.
Warnings: some anxiety symptoms?? If there’s anything else let me know!!
WC: 2.3k
A/N: Yay!! I’m writing again!! Albeit veryyyyy slowly but I’m currently working on stuff for the other characters from The Bear and Criminal Minds!! Also, there was a semi prequel to this (its to do with Family and Friends night) but I scrapped it (not entirely) but if you guys want that let me know!!
📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️📞☎️
He couldn’t sleep. He’s finally got everything he has ever wanted and he still couldn’t sleep. His phone hums lightly against the hard wood of the night stand and his hand instinctively reaches for it. The warm tone radiating off the screen helped his eyes adjust to the sudden light almost immediately. However, it took a second for his brain to process the words on the screen.
Y/N Missed Call
1 New Voicemail
His face instantly morphs into confusion. You never left voicemails. You always just kept calling and calling until he picked up, which always drove him nuts, however, now seeing the voicemail notification on his phone only unsettles him. Carmen sat up from his supine position, carefully so as to not wake the peacefully sleeping Claire. He swings his legs off the mattress and props himself up by placing his elbows on his knees with his head hanging low, peering at the screen. He debates whether or not to listen to the recording or wait until morning, which he would admit was stupid to consider as even he knows deep down he can never stall anything involving you. His thumb was quick to click on the notification before he could consider anything else. “C-Bass!” The sheer volume of your voice made him wince and rush to turn it down. A comforting warmth spread throughout his chest hearing the stupid nickname you gave him in middle school. “I’m assuming that you’re listening to this in the morning, but with your shit sleeping habits I know you’re listening to this right now. I just wanted to say that I’m leaving for New York—“ Carmy’s relaxed body immediately became rigid and he began searching for his shoes in the dark. There’s so many things he wants to tell you and to finally get off his chest, but you continue.“Like I’m at the airport right now—“ He halts his movements “So don’t try to run over here” you let out a breathy laugh and he can feel his heart seize up at the sound that never ceases to amaze him. You’ve had that effect on him since you’ve become friends but he has become unbearably aware of it in recent days. “I, uh, just wanted to start by saying that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it’s just been so hard— and now with the restaurant it felt even worse—“ You had to take a second to breathe and regain your composure and he wanted to do nothing more than to ease you through it and calm you down. “It— I got an offer from MoMA— Well, I submitted some pieces to them and Robbie vouched for me, but I got the offer last week.” you didn’t sound as proud as you should be, but that didn’t matter. Carmy was ready to take over for you and he gladly let the emotion rattle through him. He didn’t understand much of the complexities that go into your art just like you don’t understand the complexities of the culinary world, but that never stopped him from being proud of you even if it wasn’t something monumental. No one has been as proud of you as Carmy has and he will gladly continue to hold that title. “They need me over there for the installation and other artsy fartsy things, that I won’t bore you with.” You laugh, but it wasn’t as genuine as he hoped it would be and you let out a sigh.
He’s getting antsy. Carmy couldn’t stop his left leg from subconsciously bouncing, so he opts to stand up instead. Your voice continues as he quietly makes his way to the living room and takes a seat on the couch. “I just need to get out of here, C, and this was my chance like I finally have a reason to leave— maybe semi-permanently.” All your explicit and unexplicit reasons were always good enough to Carmen and he’s surprised you even stayed here this long. There was a piece inside of him that wished you agreed to go to New York with him and maybe things would have played out differently. He feels like a righteous asshole just thinking about it with Claire sleeping soundly in the next room. You draw in another breath, clearly dwelling on certain emotions that you’re uncertain of baring to him, which pains him that you even had to think about telling him anything. “I told my ma and pa and all them about me leaving and they took it well, actually, maybe too well— This is stupid, but— I stayed for them and they just wanted me gone. Everything I did and everything I sacrificed is dust. I don’t know, man, maybe I was looking or, uh, hoping for a different reaction, I don’t know.” You let out a deep sigh and he can picture you slumped down on one of those awful O’Hare lounge chairs with your spare hand rubbing the long day away from your face. “I should’ve kept calling you so I could hear your voice. You always make everything better, Carmen. I hate that I couldn’t tell you—“ Your voice was barely above a whisper like it was meant only for yourself. Your name is heavy on his tongue and he can feel his right hand twitched slightly as if to reach out to you. As if you weren’t solely an image in his head and the closest you’ll ever be to him in months. He stands up again to pace around the living room so he could have something else to focus on. “But— I just knew that if I did I wouldn’t be at the airport right now. You make me do crazy things Berzatto…” Your voice trails off slightly at the end and he knows you’re listening to the voice that’s coming from the overhead speakers, but he swears the phone grows cold without your cheek pressed against it. “Anyways—“ You regain your composure and continue with the warmth returned to the cellular device, “Bizarre-o tangent over, the Bear is going to be great and everyone is going to love it. You have nothing to worry about and you have an amazing thing going with Claire and I just want to let you know how proud I am of you and everyone who made this crazy ass thing work! God, this is nuts but— Alright, alright, I actually have to get going or the stewards are going to have my head on a pike, see ya soon you crazy bastard”.
The line went dead and the warmth that you graciously provided was gone as the metallic cool of the robotic voice took over. He finally sits down again and lets himself become shrouded in unpleasant darkness. The whirlwind of emotions that plagued him earlier were now absent which made him feel somehow worse. Nothing to keep him company except the gloating sun, who is attempting to make its appearance just beyond the horizon. As he watches the amber light pool into the room, there is an onslaught feeling of a fifty pound weight tucked into his stomach.
Carmen feels sick.
The heaviness in abdomen is awash with acid and he feels like he is going to vomit, yet he can’t do anything but sit there with itchy hands. The bile at the base of his throat finally flips a switch in his brain. The last fibers of control dissipate as memories swiftly flood his senses. They crash and collide. Violently dissolving like sea foam on sand only for them to recede into waves and surge forward again and again. It’s a blurry mess, but his hands find it easy to call you. It’s all he needs to reach his calm. He needs it just as much as you need him. The initial ring echoes through his head and the pause lasts for an eternity. His face is running hot and he’s thinking too much. It’s something he already knows, but once he starts it’s hard for him to stop. All the different possible scenarios are playing rapidly in his brain and he can’t keep up. The phone buzzes again, still trying to connect him to you. His hand is swimming through his hair impatiently as he starts pacing the living room for the uptenth time. The phone hums steadily another time. All of his emotions are caught in his throat and his stomach is in a perpetual knot. His breathing is shallow leaving his lungs aching for more and it’s almost as if there was no more air left in the atmosphere.
Then it clicks.
“Hello, sunshine” Relief crashes over him eagerly when the sound of your voice reaches his ears. He can tell that you're smiling and he can even see it briefly when he closes his eyes. Carmy is finally able to stop pacing and takes a second to sit down on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor.
“C-bass” You elongate the notes in a singsong way to reel him in. Your voice sounds off. It was hard for him to pinpoint at first but now it was easy to hear it was the nerves eating you up. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here” he sighs, the heel of his hand rubbing his left eye, “I, uh, thought you weren’t going to pick up.” He can feel the exhaustion settling in as he slouches against a cabinet. You fight with your carry-on as you move through the quiet terminal. It’s a maze of sleeping bodies and you try your best not to wake them. Once you reach your designated gate and find a semi-secluded spot, you continue ”Sorry about that, they changed the gate and delayed the damn thing.”
”I’m glad” Carmy mumbles without a second thought as he reveles in your long distance presence. ”You’re glad I’m stuck here?” You try to act all serious but he can hear the lightness in your voice and he can’t help but crack a smile. ”No, no, it’s just— uh, I’m glad that I can hear your voice” the cadence in his words forces you to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the stupid grin from spreading. It’s the Carmy effect. Idiotic smiles are plenty when the two of you are together.
”Fuck, me too” Your voice contradicts the violent affection that rattles your insides. It’s shy, almost as if you were embarrassed to admit it. There was a beat of silence, but Carmy beat you to speaking first. ”So, uh, how long is your plane delayed?” His now steady hand ghosts over the grooves in the tile. You were still battling the nerves from earlier, but thought it was an opportune time to actually apologize to Carmy ”Only like an hour. It took me over half of that to walk to the other side of the airport— Hey, listen, I just— I wanted to tell you I’m sorry—“
”No, no, I get it. I would have done the same—“ Carmy waves you off as if you could see him. ”I still feel bad“ you groan and lean your head into your hand in an almost facepalm fashion. You hate that you feel bad but you always do and you always will. It’s unavoidable. “Don’t, I didn’t when I left” he shakes his head to get rid of the memory of that day. He was trying to hold on to this tranquility the best he could and not derail again. ”Really?” You pause for a moment before asking, “Did you miss me?” Your subconscious emotions getting the better of you. ”Fuck, yeah like a lot. I wish you didn’t ditch me.” He was sincere like always and you can feel the guilt boiling in your stomach, ”Me too”.
“I think—,” Carmy pinches the bridge of his nose in thought, “Wait, uh, I know that it would’ve been better with you there”, he sighs and lets his hand fall back into his lap. ”Fuck, Carm, I miss you so much already and I haven’t even left the city yet” you try to make yourself laugh to get away from the regret that soared through your body, but you couldn’t. “I’ll come up there as soon as I can and help you unpack—“
” And, I’ll give you an apartment tour and show you my art displayed all fancy at the museum” You were already getting giddy at the prospect of the two of you being reunited. “I would love that, actually”, Carmy smiles into the phone as he imagines taking you on a personal tour of NYC.
”Great, because you still owe me a hot dog”
“You still won’t let that go, huh?”
“It was like the most perfect hot dog and you made me drop it, asshole!”
“Sorry, sorry, okay?” he laughs along with you, “I’ll get you another one. There’s this place in Hell’s Kitchen—“
”Fuck, Carm can you give me a sec?” You hate to interrupt him especially when he was in the middle of his excited prospect, but the airport attendants were making announcements and soon enough they will be calling up groups. You struggle to hear the muffled voice over the speaker and Carmy can hear you shuffle around to get a closer listen. After a few moments, you are able to piece together that the plane is on schedule and that Group A has been called to front.
“Fuck, sorry, Carm, I gotta go”
”No, I get it. Call me when you get to your new place”
”No, yeah, I will and Carmen—“ you interrupt yourself and flounder for a second. The words are heavy on your tongue. “I love you” the words roll off your tongue differently this time. They’ve always carried a hearty weight to them, but this time it felt like a confession. It sears his soul unlike anything he has ever felt before and you pay no mind to the flames raging in your ribcage.
“I love you too” it falls from his lips automatically without hesitation. He swears that his words are tinged with something else. The edges of the words flickering for something more. It holds a familiarity but he can't quite grasp it in the moment. “Carmen, get some sleep ok?” and your line goes dead.
Fuck.
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear imagine#the bear fanfiction#carmy x you#pogueit
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