#I was going to like save this for when I had more written for this au but like. We all know I'm never going to lamo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

afterglowsainz · 2 days ago

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Carlos sainz number 2 please

i can fix him (no really i can) | carlos sainz

song; i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

a/n: one of my favorites i’ve written

part of the spotify wrapped special

Carlos Sainz was a womanizer, flirt, and playboy, and no one could change him.

You rolled your eyes for the third time that night as you watched him flirt with the first woman who crossed his path at Ferrari’s end of the year party. Maybe it was a good thing this season was over and you wouldn’t have to see him anymore; after all, he was leaving, and you were staying. It wasn’t that you were envious with Carlos; it was just that his behavior stressed you out. Maybe he remind you a little of your ex-boyfriend? Whatever the case was, Carlos was far from your favorite person in the company, even though you seemed to be his.

“Why the face, preciosa?” another thing you didn’t like about Carlos—the damn Spanish nicknames.

“What face?” you asked, half wanting to punch him, half curious.

You quickly realized that if you felt even a hint of curiosity about what Carlos had to say, you’d probably had too much vodka.

“You’re looking at me like you want to stab my eyes out.” he laughed at his own joke, and you noticed he’d probably had as much to drink as you—if not more.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of alcohol and embarrassment, but you weren’t about to show it in front of him. Thank Enzo for the dim lighting.

“You never change, do you, Sainz?” you muttered, taking another sip of your vodka martini. “Always so self-centered.”

The Spaniard smiled at you, one of those smiles he saved specifically for the hundreds of women he flirted with daily—one he used way too often with you. Before he could reply with whatever cheesy line he had prepared, Charles appeared beside you both, throwing an arm over Carlos’s shoulders and the other over yours.

“How’s it going?” Charles asked with a mischievous grin.

“Y/N’s drunk and I think she wants to kill me,” Carlos replied, maintaining eye contact with you.

“That’s not true!” you retorted like a child, making Charles laugh.

“Maybe you’ve had enough of these, huh?” Charles teased, taking the glass from your hand. “Mate, why don’t you escort her to her room, just to make sure she gets there safely?” he suggested, addressing Carlos.

“I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere, and I don’t want to leave.”

“No problem.” Carlos ignored your protest, downed the rest of his drink, and gently guided you away from Charles and toward the exit of the party.

You didn’t say anything on the way, a little frustrated that both men had effectively kicked you out of the event but also a little tired, as the alcohol was beginning to take its toll. The party was being held at a luxurious hotel in Maranello, where the guests were also staying, and by the time you and Carlos reached the elevator, you’d mustered just enough energy to speak.

“Okay, we’re here. I guess you can go now,” you said, making no effort to thank him for accompanying you.

“I’ll walk you to your door and leave after that.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you replied.

“Y/N, contrary to what you might think of me, I am a gentleman.”

The elevator arrived, and Carlos gestured for you to step in first. Too tired to argue, you entered the small metal box and pressed the button for your floor. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, lulled by the gentle motion of the elevator. You might not have liked Carlos, but oddly enough, you trusted him.

However, your brief moment of peace shattered as the elevator jolted violently, and the bright white light flickered off, leaving you in dim emergency lighting.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

Carlos acted quickly, pressing the emergency button. When nothing happened for a few seconds, he pressed it again, and this time a male voice mumbled something in Italian through the speakers. Panic crept into your chest as you turned to Carlos, hoping he understood better than you.

“The hotel is having issues with this elevator, but they already called maintenance. It’ll take about twenty to thirty minutes,” Carlos translated.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice weaker than you intended.

Carlos noticed the change in your demeanor despite his drunken state.

“You okay?” he asked, draping his suit jacket over your bare shoulders without asking.

“Yeah, it’s just… I didn’t expect to be stuck in an elevator right now, you know?” for once, you didn’t argue with his chivalry, instead pulling the jacket tighter around yourself, comforted by the scent of him.

Carlos nodded, moving closer when he realized you weren’t retreating as usual. You sat on the cold ceramic floor, and he joined you. Despite the proximity, the faint light made it difficult to see your face clearly. Maybe it was the dim lighting or the liquid courage, but he spoke up.

“Why do you hate me, Y/N?” His accent thickened as he asked the question, catching you off guard.

“I don’t hate you, Carlos,” you replied simply. When he realized you weren’t offering more, he pressed on.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His tone lacked its usual playful edge; it sounded raw, vulnerable.

You turned to face him, even though you couldn’t fully see his expression.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. “I just think our personalities clash. But I don’t hate you.”

He nodded slowly. “You know I’m not really like that, right?”

You frowned, confused. “Like what?”

“I know what you think of me, but I’m not like that. I’m not a womanizer.”

You didn’t believe him, but you were kind enough not to say it aloud.

“I’ve never said that about you,” you offered, a little white lie.

“Maybe not, but I know you think it.” Carlos sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re so frustrating, you know that?”

Before you could take offense, he continued. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for four years, and you never noticed.”

You were speechless. Completely and utterly stunned.

“Uh?” was all you could manage, feeling ridiculous. “But all the women…”

“Only one matters,” he interrupted, subtly gesturing toward you.

"Why didn’t you just say something?" you managed to ask after what felt like an eternity. You still needed to process his confession.

“You had a boyfriend when we met, so I didn’t. Then, when you broke up, you’d already decided I was just a player, which I’m not.”

Unintentionally, you pouted—a gesture he couldn’t see due to the darkness. You tried to take yourself back to those moments in the past when maybe Carlos had attempted to get your attention in some way, and how you’d always viewed his actions with ulterior motives. In your defense, as he had mentioned, you had a boyfriend when you first met him, and he was incredibly decent not to make a move during that time. But later, when your heart was broken, perhaps you hated all men, so it wouldn’t surprise you to think you had misjudged him all these years.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

Suddenly, the space started to feel much hotter than before, although not for long. As quickly as it had malfunctioned, the flickering white light turned on, and the elevator began ascending again just as it had moments earlier. Seconds later, a soft ding and the glowing red numbers announced your arrival at your hotel floor, and the metallic doors slid open, welcoming three men dressed in blue uniforms—undoubtedly the hotel maintenance team.

The man closest to them apologized on behalf of the hotel in Italian, and Carlos responded that it was no problem, helping you off the cold floor and exiting as quickly as possible, his hand still holding yours.

When you arrived at your room, he let go of your hand, and you immediately missed its warmth.

“Are you going back to the party?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant while searching for your key in your purse.

“I don’t think so. I think I’ll head to my room to rest,” he replied, searching your gaze.

You nodded slowly as you opened the door, mentally debating whether or not to ask the question. In the end, the part of your brain fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, and the euphoria of his earlier confession won.

“Or maybe… you could come in, if you want?” Your eyes finally locked with his in a hopeful gaze.

His answer wasn’t immediate, but then he nodded.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fanfic #cs55 #taylor swift #spotify wrapped special

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kousanosgf · 2 days ago

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men, minors dni

sevika x f!reader

this was written for a request by @moonylvs ᜊ about sweet but secretly strong reader. also this is heavily inspired by laufey's vibes.

tags: fluff that's it i guess haha

you weren't someone interesting. another one of those semi popular zaunites singers. performing your jazzy lovey dovey songs couple days a week in a bar. for sevika you were a background noise as she came and went for another round of drinks, a game or a more of a casual business meeting.

it's not like she didn't notice. it, probably, was impossible to ignore your presence, always sticking for an hour or two after your shift, chatting with your friends. it seemed like everyone was at least acquainted with you. you were a real social butterfly, flying lightly between tables, paying attention to everything the visitors had to say. sevika even shared a word with you the first time she came and you made sure to introduce yourself.

cute. all that she thought. nothing more really. and if you were a little more pushy with her, the overall sweet image of you would've turned annoying quickly.

another day, another evening at the bar. sevika chose to spend it with the group of friends after work, catching up. though there was nothing much to discuss. the week was relatively calm for all of them. sevika's eye wondered, scanning the rest of the patrons as she was half-listening to her friend's story. her gaze got caught on you in the passing. already finished with your set, you were lounging at the bar counter with the glass of your favorite cocktail in hand, talking to some guy. nothing new around here too, sevika thought. as hours passed, she continued to look around occasionally, wishing to go home and end this boring evening.

finally, something caught her interest. your frame was becoming more dense, little high-pitched giggles that were reaching her ears gave off strained tones every time sevika slid her gaze your way. she didn't paid it much attention at first. who knew how you reacted to your dates, maybe it's just an anxiety. now, though, it was pretty clear you didn't want to be there and the man wouldn't get a hint. no one else seem to notice your discomfort to come save you, but it's not really her deal. your fault for having no spine to tell the guy to fuck off.

her calm evening seems to come to an end when she notices the man slides his palm up your shin. sevika sighs and stands up begrudgingly. damn her sense of justice.

"sevika, where'er you going?" her friend calls out, making her turn to reply.

she has no time to do so though, because a heavy thump breaks bar's chill atmosphere. sevika's head whips around. and there you are, standing with eyes full off rage above the unwelcome companion.

"are you insane?" the man screams, holding onto his jaw in pain, stumbling to stand up.

"not my problem you don't understand human language!" you raise your voice.

sevika doesn't have much time to think everything through, her legs already on the way to you. she grabs guy's shoulder roughly when he tries to reach for you.

"back off, the woman said no" as he realizes who's speaking to him, he mumbles something bitterly and hurries away, too afraid of silco's second in command.

sevika's attention now on you. "you okay?"

"yeah- yeah, sorry." you shake your hand, something hurts from the punch you gave the man. one of the waitress, your friend possibly, runs up to both of you, fussing over, suggesting to use the stuff room to check over yourself.

"you good. maybe gonna bruise a little." sevika gives her verdict and lets go off your hand. "he's one of the finn's, those guys have metal all over. probably had his teeth or jaw done."

"thanks again." you say, wiggling your fingers. "i'm sorry to cause a scene."

sevika can only huff out. you just got harassed and that's your response?

"didn't know you actually had it in you." she says instead. "that was a nice hit."

"ah- my older sister taught me." you laugh embarrassed.

sevika walks you home that day, to "make sure you won't get into another trouble" as she says to you and herself. you share stories on the way, mostly about your siblings. "we use to quarrel a lot and i was the youngest so i always was losing fights, until my sis showed me some moves." it makes sevika laugh genuinely, imagine you as a child arguing with your brothers and sisters.

and that's where it starts for her. she can't stop thinking about you. sevika doesn't understand how a woman like you can hold so much gentleness and still have that edge underneath. her memories wander to that fire in your eyes.

weeks pass and she finds herself dropping by more and more, waiting to spend some time with you. it hits her one day, when she comes into the bar only for one of the employees to immediately inform her you don't work today, that she might have a problem. (it's called a crush, but she's too stubborn to call it that.)

a month goes by and she does nothing with it. either too busy to think about her feelings or spending her days in doubt. there's not a chance you with your bossa nova voice, denim overalls and sweet smiles would choose such a harsh and rough around the edges woman.

it all comes to an end one day. catching sevika alone, when her friends went out for a smoke (and, yes, she stopped since you mentioned you don't like smokers much).

she sits on the sofa, playing with an ice cube in her glass, when a shadow covers her and she raises her eyes, you standing over her, looming, your fist diggs into the hip, like you're some angry kids cartoon character.

"so? how long do i have to wait before you invite me on a date?"

sevika chokes on her drink a little, surprised. there's that fire again, brows creased, displeased, maybe even angry. sevika takes a moment to catch her breath, more because of the way you look and not her drink.

"yes... i-" she literally doesn't know how to react and stumbles over her words. she tries to compose herself. "i was actually about to-"

"good then." you don't let her finish, looking more like you're about to lecture her than be happy that something in your relationship moved. "cause girls started to make fun of me for running around you. hope you're free tomorrow evening."

sevika nods but you don't see it, already off to the little stage, to play the next songs.

a chain of laughter rings out, the waitresses run off as sevika turns to glare their way.

#sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika #arcane

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robynhoodwrites · 8 hours ago

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✧༺♛༻✧Within Reach✧༺♛༻✧

Expanding on the "Within Reach" Memoria, with smut at the end >:) (This is written from a first person point of view, with an AFAB and femme main character.)

Word Count: 6.5k

MINORS DNI! The following writing contains the following: smut, public sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, Evol used during sex, mirror sex, half plot/half smut, jealousy on Sylus' end, mutual pining, he is possessive (in the hot way, ofc), kinda rough sex.

My fingers run across the fabric of the dress, the silk material sliding beneath my fingertips gracefully. “This is from our spring collection. I don’t know if you saw, but a few celebrities wore dresses from that collection to the Linkon Gala when it first came out,” the saleswoman says, her smile a bit too wide not to be fake.

I nod, reveling in the wine-red color of the fabric. My hands skim along the sides until they reach a price tag hanging from the collar. When I notice the price, a grimace spreads across my face. I hang the dress back up on the wall, a sigh leaving my frowning lips. The saleswoman notices this, tutting lightly under her breath.

“On second thought, why don’t you just browse over here in the clearance section while I finish stocking over here,” she says, her wide grin not leaving her face. Ouch. I just nod in response as she prances away, my eyes skimming the racks in the clearance section. Even these are a bit too expensive…

The pressure is on for this shopping trip. I have to make sure I look good for Romero’s party, especially considering that Sylus is going to be accompanying me. I didn’t technically invite him, but he took the initiative and invited himself. Honestly, I’m kind of glad he did. I can be a bit bad at that stuff sometimes.

As if thinking about Sylus had summoned him, I hear a crow’s caw come from my pocket. I take it out to find that Sylus is calling me, his face now illuminating my screen. Asshole must have changed my ringtone. I press the answer button, my mood brightening involuntarily as I place the phone against my ear.

“Did you change my ringtone?” I ask, a smile flitting across my face. I hear a dark chuckle from the other end, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter rampantly. I have got to get this crush under control.

“I thought this one was so much more interesting. Now you’ll think of me no matter who calls,” he drawls, and I can hear the grin in his voice. God damn it, he’s not even here and I’m blushing. “Listen, I’m at the boutique by your work, on the top floor.”

I feel like my heart has stopped. “Wait, you’re here too? Did you do that on purpose?” I ask, a slight panic lining my voice. Sylus seems to pick up on this, another chuckle emanating from my phone’s speaker. “You totally did this on purpose,” I whine.

“See you in ten minutes, sweetie,” he insists, before hanging up and leaving me with a shiver down my spine. That asshole.

✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧

The elevator finally slows to a stop, the door opening with a ding to reveal the top floor. I enter a waiting room of sorts, with a white and impeccably shiny tiled floor and several plush couches lining the walls. The room is empty save for two men, who are lounging on the sofas like they own the place.

“Luke, Kieran! Those couches are white! Get your feet off of them before you cover them in soot,” I nag, waving my hands in an annoying motion to get them to sit up properly. “The poor cleaners… Who knows where you two have been.”

“Oh, look. Mom’s here,” Luke jokes, and I turn to him with a fake frown on my face. He puts up his hands defensively, finally sitting up normally in his chair. Despite the mask, I can tell that a grin is spread across his face.

“I’m only a year older than you, asshole,” I mutter, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I flip him off, which only coaxes a giggle out of Luke. I shake my head at him, trying to fight the smile threatening to ruin my composure.

“If you keep it up, Luke, then I’m gonna take over as mom's favorite,” Kieran jokes back. I turn to him, reaching a hand down and rubbing it against his hair in an affectionate manner.

“You sure are buddy,” I say, leaning into the whole “mom” thing with a sigh. These two are idiots, but they’re so sweet that I can’t help but love them.

“Careful, you two. Sylus might rip you a new one if he sees you guys near each other,” Luke teases, and my hand immediately leaves Kieran’s hair. Besides Jenna, who has been on the receiving end of my ranting many times, these two are the only ones to know about how I feel towards Sylus. I didn’t actually tell them, but they have made it very apparent that they have figured it out.

“That’s it. Neither of you are my favorite anymore. Mephisto is in 1st place,” I mutter, moving towards the door at the end of the hall.

“Nice job, Luke. Now we’re losing to a fucking crow,” Kieran whines. Luke just throws a joking glare at him, resuming his lounging on the couch as he browses one of the many magazines on the table in front of him.

I just chuckle lightly beneath my breath before opening the door in front of me and closing it behind me with a click. The room I enter is quite large, with several changing rooms lining the walls. There is a table covered in different fabrics, several of them glittering under the fluorescent light above me. My eyes finally land on Sylus, who is standing in front of a large, floor-length mirror in the center of the room.

“Long time, no see,” he announces, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. He smiles, and my heart begins its palpitations again.

“It really hasn’t been that long,” I mutter, slowly walking closer to him as I take the room in.

“And yet why does it feel like an eternity? Does time fly when you’re around?” he asks, turning to face me finally. Shit. He has to know what he’s doing. A blush creeps onto my cheeks, and there is no way Sylus hasn’t noticed.

I don’t know what to say, simply standing there and staring at him like a statue. He doesn’t break eye contact, instead holding up two ties. He holds a solid red tie in one hand, the other clutching a light blue striped tie. “Which one?” he asks, holding each up to his neck in turn.

I walk up to him, barely thinking before wrapping the red one around his neck. My fingers work slowly, tying it in an intricate knot and pulling it tight around his neck. His gaze never leaves my face, his eyes burning holes in my skin. I can’t bring myself to look at him, knowing that one glance at him will surely bring me to a puddle beneath his feet.

I fiddle with the silk material of the tie, finally working up the courage to meet his gaze. “The red. It matches your eyes,” I mutter, before stepping back and distracting myself with the table of assorted fabrics. He chuckles, following me closely and examining some of the fabrics himself.

“I’ll have to pick a suit to match the tie, then. Wouldn’t want me to take you to that party with a mismatched outfit, now would we?” he asks, his fingers finding a black fabric and rubbing his thumb over it lightly.

“This is for Romero’s party?” I ask, stunned at the idea that he is buying an entirely new outfit just for me. No, not just for me. For the party. Don’t be delusional. He nods, taking the fabric and setting it aside.

“I wouldn’t want you to attend the party with me when I’m not looking my best. Not that I don’t always look my best, I just don’t want to take any chances,” he teases, setting the fabric on an empty table beside him. He takes off the tie, resting it neatly next to the fabric.

“Where’s all the staff? I figured you would have someone helping you pick things out,” I ask, my eyes scanning the empty boutique for any other signs of life.

“I sent everyone away. I don’t like to be bothered, and they do what I say since I’m a VIP. They should be sending in a tailor to take my measurements, though,” he boasts, never afraid to flex his wealth in front of me. He’s such an asshole. I want him so bad.

“Sylus, how did you know I would be here?” I ask, picking up a nearby object to fiddle with. If I don’t do something with my hands, the nervousness will show on my face. And I cannot have him knowing how nervous he makes me.

“I have Mephisto watch the entrance of every building I’m in, in case of an ambush. He spotted you when you walked in and came squawking to me immediately, the loyal bird,” he smiles, running a hand through his silvery hair. So, I have Mephisto to blame for this.

“I asked for the tailor 30 minutes ago, and he’s still a no-show. What kind of store treats its VIP guests this way?” he huffs, clearly growing impatient.

“How dare they? Don’t they know who you are?” I tease, finding any excuse I can to make fun of the spoiled brat in front of me. He gives me a dark look, making me stop in my tracks. My fidgeting stops, and he looks down at the item in my hands.

“Oh, perfect. Glad to see we have a volunteer to tailor me today,” he grins, and I look down to see that the item I was fiddling with was, in fact, measuring tape. Shit, how am I this stupid?

“But I don’t know how to tailor-” I begin, but he interrupts me by grabbing the tape from my hands and wrapping it around his bicep.

“You just measure the different sizes of my body, see? Anyone can do it,” he explains, taking the tape off of his bicep and showing me the measurement. I try to stay calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, I am screaming. “See, I’ve already got one measurement done for you,” he says, a smirk playing across his lips.

“How generous,” I mutter, snatching the measuring tape from his hands. I sigh, looking from the tape to his sturdy form in front of me. I can do this.

“C’mon. It’ll save time,” Sylus insists, and I see a small glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“Fine. If you insist, your outfit will be made according to the measurements I take. And no matter how it turns out, you have to wear it to the party. Deal?” I ask, hoping that this will scare him off. If I have to get up close and measure him, I might melt.

He chuckles, stretching out a hand to shake mine. “Deal,” he says, wrapping the hand around mine and giving it a gentle shake. He rifles through a drawer in the table next to him, producing a pen and paper from inside. “You can write the measurements in here. You’ll need my waist and chest for the shirt, and I have already done the arms for you. Then, for pants, you need my inseam, the outside length, and the thigh. Oh, and my ass,” he adds with a wink, only strengthening the redness in my face.

“God, you’re so lucky I’m such a good…” I freeze, struggling to find the word. “Friend,” I finish, trying to pull myself together. A flicker of something flits across his face, but I can’t tell exactly what. He hands me the pen and paper, leading me over to the mirror.

“Let’s start with the chest, then,” he offers, pulling his shirt up to reveal his sculpted abdomen. He doesn’t take his shirt all the way off, instead letting it rest just above his pecs.

I can't help it- I start to stare. It takes all of my strength not to rub my hands along his torso, the defined abs rippling along his stomach calling to me like a siren song. This isn't the first time I've seen him shirtless, but it will be the first time I've ever gotten this close.

"Like what you see?" He asks, and my attention snaps back up to him. Shit, how long was I staring? I clear my throat, walking closer to him and resting the pen and paper on a nearby chair.

"Just... trying to decide where to start," I mumble, trying my hardest to brush past my obviousness. He chuckles but doesn't say anything else. There's no way that worked.

With my hands now free of everything but the measuring tape, I begin assessing his body for real this time. "I think I'll start at the chest," I tell him. That way, you can put your shirt down faster. And I can stop feeling like I'm going to explode.

"Whenever you're ready," he practically purrs, looking down at me expectedly. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, inching closer to him as I hold up the measuring tape. I try my best not to touch him, my hands struggling to reach around his torso.

"Don't be nervous. The closer you are, the more accurate," he tells me, placing a hand on the small of my back and pushing me closer to him. Calm down. The quicker you do this, the sooner it's over.

But what if I don't want it to be over?

I exhale, finally working up the courage to get closer to him. My hands wrap around his torso, his warm skin burning against my bare arms. I thread the tape around his back, coming forward to meet me in the front.

My fingers graze his skin lightly, and I hear him inhale sharply. I panic, looking up at him for the first time since I started measuring him. There is a look in his eyes that I have never seen from him before, and I'm unable to place exactly what emotion it is.

"Sorry," I mumble, worried I've upset him. I take the tape off and go to write the measurement down in the notebook.

"No, it's just... your hands are so cold," he mutters, his hands brushing where mine had just touched him. A smile graces his face, which makes me pause. Is he... enjoying this?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. He's just messing with me. I move back over to where he is standing, my hands a bit more steady as I go to measure his waist. If he wants to mess with me, then I'll mess with him back.

I don't shy away from touching him now, my hands grazing along the sides of his hips as I thread the tape around his back once again. I watch as goosebumps rise on his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up ever so slightly.

I take the measurement, turning away to write it down in my book once again. I don't look at him, afraid that his gaze will take away the newfound confidence I've gained. Now, to move lower.

I get down on my knees in front of him, gulping slightly as I measure the circumference of his lower half. This time, I make sure not to touch him, my hands hovering slightly as they move around his backside. It's a shame. His ass is one of his best assets.

When I've taken that measurement, I move to the outside of his legs. Luckily, his tight jeans act as a barrier between me and his skin. That makes me feel a bit better about touching him, actually.

Finally, I move to the inseam. I start at his ankle, moving the tape up slowly along the length of his leg. When I finally look up, I realize how close my hand is getting to his crotch. I freeze for a moment, my face turning red.

"The closer you are, the more accurate." The memory of his words from earlier rings in my ear. I sigh, moving as high up as I can without straight up fondling him. My eyes finally rake up towards where the tape ends, his crotch directly in front of my face.

Is he hard right now, or is it just always straining against his jeans? No, stop. Friends don't think that way about friends. I take away the tape, hurriedly standing up and writing down the final measurement in my notebook.

I still cannot bring myself to make eye contact with him, the deep embarrassment leaving splotches of red along my face. "Okay, w-well, now we can get back to looking at fabrics," I say, trying to hide the embarrassment in my voice as I move to turn away from him.

He stops me, his hand gripping my wrist tightly. I drop the notebook in surprise, and he takes that moment to tilt my face up to look at him for the first time since I started measuring him.

"Wait," he begins, seeming to be searching for the right words. "We’re attending the party together. Our outfits should match," He tells me, his eyes still staring down at me with that same mystery twinkle in them.

"Well, I figure I can just pick out a red dress or something," I mumble, my head still resting in his hand. He tuts, releasing me to pick up the notebook and tape I dropped on the ground.

"No, we need to fully match. That way, no one will question who your date is for the night." He places the notebook carefully down on the chair, twirling the measuring tape intricately between his fingers.

"Oh," I nearly whisper, finally catching on to what he's implying. "I can't really afford to get something specially made... I'll just get one of the premade dresses."

"It's my treat, since I invited myself to this party," he smiles, giving me a look that screams "You don't have a choice in the matter." I nod, lost for words as he raises one of my arms. I gulp, the short sleeves of my dress making skin touch skin as his fingers run lightly up my arms.

He works painfully slow, his fingers tracing along my skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. I can't help the shudder that racks my body, which makes a small smirk play across Sylus' face.

I start to feel a small pool begin beneath my legs, and I have to bite my lip to keep from cursing myself out. Damn it, pull yourself together. He moves to my chest, his fingers not touching my breasts but getting so close that one slip would put his hand against me.

I hold my breath, and the prick keeps moving as painfully slow as he has been the entire time. "God, you're so slow with the measuring tape. I was nearly done by now when I was doing it," I mutter, and his eyes flick up to meet mine.

"I'm just trying to be precise, sweetie," he breathes, looking back down to get the measurement of my chest. He finally releases the measuring tape, an anxious breath quickly leaving my lungs as he moves to write down the data.

I shake my head again, trying to snap myself out of whatever trance he has put me in. The heat is still pooling beneath my legs, a blush spreading across my cheeks. Does he know what he's doing, or is he just an oblivious guy trying to be nice?

He resumes his work, wrapping the tape around my waist and jotting down the numbers. It is then that he gets on his knees, looking up at me from the ground with that same twinkle in his eyes.

It takes all my energy not to squeak from panic. Him on his knees in front of me... I stare down at him, the pool beneath my legs more akin to a river.

"I have to do your inseam now. You're wearing a dress, so I need your permission to put my hands under it."

My eyes widen, my breath halting yet again. The more embarrassed side of me is begging for me to stop him, but the rest of me is practically screaming for him to continue.

"Go ahead," I nearly whisper, and I flinch as his hand touches my skin yet again. He starts at my ankle, running the tape along the inside of my leg agonizingly slow. His fingers lightly drag along my skin, and a breath hitches in my throat.

"You're doing great," he murmurs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. His hand finally reaches my knees, which is where my dress ends. He slides his hand under it, moving upwards towards my thighs.

I'm suddenly aware of the heat radiating off of my body, the warmth pooling between my legs, and his fingers moving further up into my dress. If you had told me earlier that this is where I would end up, I would've laughed in your face.

He finally reaches the top of my thigh, his thumb pressing down roughly on the tape.

And directly into the pool of my desire that has started to soak through my underwear.

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes closing as he lets out a curse under his breath. I'm almost frozen in shock, my world seeming to crash down around me. He knows.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what-" I begin, but he grips my thigh with his hands, and the words die in my throat. His eyes flutter open, locking with mine in the mirror next to us.

"Is this all for me?" He asks, and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. What the fuck does that mean, Sylus?

"No. Yes. I'm so sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," I begin, anxiety bubbling in my stomach. "It's just a crush, and I'll get over it, I promise. I know you don't feel that way-"

"Are you dense?" He asks, his grip loosening on my thigh ever so slightly.

"Excuse me?" I ask, looking down at him in shock.

"Have you not noticed the way I look at you? Have you not, for one second, thought about why I would invite myself to a birthday party for someone I have never met?"

I just shake my head, trying and failing to wrap my head around everything that is happening.

"It's because I cannot bear to sit alone at home while you go to that party. The idea of you all dolled up for another man? The thought of you smiling at him, laughing at his jokes..." he trails off, but the look in his eyes is distant. His grip tightens on my thigh yet again, this time from a desperate need.

"How long have you felt this way?" I ask, whispering as I look down at his face.

"Since the beginning. There is not one moment that I have not spent thinking about you, not one night that I have not been lying awake and picturing you. Your touch, your smell, how you must taste," he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on my upper thigh, my excitement now coating his finger.

I can't help the moan that escapes from me, my legs feeling weak as he continues rubbing rough circles on my thigh. I finally recognize the twinkle of emotion that has been dotting his eyes.

It's hunger.

"I've felt e-exactly the same," I manage to squeak out. "God, I feel so s-stupid-" I begin, but he cuts me off with a rough grab of my thigh.

"Don't you dare. You're not stupid, just careful. That's one of the reasons I feel so strongly about you," he murmurs, looking up at me with a frown. The sparkle in his eyes is now a fire, threatening to burn me to ashes with just a look.

"You're perfect," he purrs, his thumb leaving from under my dress and entering his mouth. I fall to my knees in front of him, feeling weak as I watch him feast on my excitement.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this? To taste you?" He asks, his thumb finally leaving his mouth. I curse under my breath, taking his head in my hands.

I pull him towards me, our lips meeting in a fiery clash after months of anticipation. He lifts me onto his lap, my legs straddling him as I run my fingers through his silvery hair. I moan, and he takes the opportunity to bite my bottom lip.

He moves a hand to my waist, the other finding its way to the back of my head as he grips my hair. I groan, pushing him backward until he is lying on the shag carpet below us. I'm straddling his body now, lying on top of him and rubbing my hands under his shirt to feel his toned torso.

"Is it how you thought it would feel?" He asks, breaking the kiss to look up at me. I'm sure I look a mess, with swollen lips and ruined hair. But he looks at me like I'm the only person alive that he wants to be with.

"Better," I tell him, my lips finding his again. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him as he slips his tongue into my mouth, exploring it like it would be the last time he ever would.

He grinds himself against me, his erection fighting against his tight jeans as it rubs into my pussy. I let out another moan, breaking the kiss, as I try to stifle the noise by biting his shirt.

"Stop that," he murmurs, pulling his shirt out of my mouth. "I want to hear you."

"We're in public, Sylus. What if another shopper comes in?" I ask, still fighting moans as he continues to grind himself against me.

"I rented the floor for the next hour. No one should be anywhere near us," he murmurs, moving his hands under my dress. I grab his hands, pinning them on the floor next to his head.

"Shouldn't we just go home?" I ask, and he smirks up at me. I feel something moving beneath my dress and look to see that he is using his tendrils of black smoke. They curl around my thighs, sparking pleasure through my body.

"I need you now," he nearly growls, his Evol pulling down my underwear in one fell swoop. I gasp in shock, and he uses my moment of weakness to flip us over. His hands are planted firmly on the ground beside my head, using his Evol to lift the bottom of my dress and expose my naked lower half.

The chill of the air conditioning blows across my exposed cunt, a shiver crawling up my spine in anticipation. Sylus moves one of his hands down to my thighs, dragging his fingers up and down lightly like he did before.

"Sylus, please," I moan, and he smiles devilishly down at me. His fingers finally make it up to my entrance, teasing me slowly by dragging them around the folds. I moan yet again, out of both pleasure and frustration.

He finally reaches the bundle of nerves at the top of my heat, circling his thumb around it slowly. My back arches, attempting to push myself even closer to him. He pulls away, tutting under his breath.

"Patience isn't your strong suit, is it?" He asks, his warm breath dancing along my face.

"I have been patient for months. I can't be patient anymore," I whine, moving a hand down to grasp his. I move his hand back to my clit, and he chuckles deeply as he resumes his ministrations.

I moan as he begins to rub faster, my back arching upwards involuntarily. His mouth finds my neck, kissing and sucking along the outside with care. He finally reaches his desired spot, nibbling on it lightly before sucking roughly on it and leaving his mark.

He moves his hand from my clit, and I almost begin to complain before something else replaces it. His smoke is now curling around it, taking over his work as he moves two fingers towards my entrance.

"Fuck, Syl-" I am cut off by him thrusting his fingers into me, a yelp of pleasure leaving my lips. He rubs against my walls aggressively, exploring my insides while his Evol rubs circles around my clit. He licks the spot he has been sucking, moving his mouth further down my neck and towards my breasts.

He suddenly stops, the complete lack of stimulation leaving me almost empty. "Sylus!" I whine, looking up at him with a pout on my face.

"I want this off," he mutters, tugging at the material of my dress. I stop him, staring him down defiantly. He raises an eyebrow at me, the question asking itself. "What could you possibly want?"

"Take yours off, too," I whine, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Without warning, my dress is lifted in the air by his Evol, the clothing falling onto the floor and leaving me completely bare in front of him.

I begin to argue, but he does the same for his shirt, leaving his sculpted upper half bare in front of me in all its glory. I can't help but run my hands along his body, and he groans at the feeling of my cold hands against his warm skin.

He pulls over a chair, knocking the notebook and measuring tape onto the ground as he goes to sit down. He beckons me over, and when I do not move fast enough, he wraps his Evol around me and pulls me over there himself.

I'm now sitting on his lap, my back against his naked torso. We are facing the floor-length mirror, my body on full display as I rest on top of him. He kisses the inside of my neck, his hands moving up to massage my breasts.

I moan, my head leaning back against him as I writhe in pleasure. I feel his Evol wrap around my head, tilting it back down until I am looking at myself in the mirror.

"No, I want you to watch. I want you to watch as I take what's mine," he purrs, his other hand moving down to resume its work in my pussy. He thrusts his fingers into me, his other hand tweaking my nipple between his fingers.

I let out a yelp of pleasure, fighting the urge to throw my head back again. Instead, I look at myself in the mirror, watching as his fingers pump in and out of my leaking cunt. It's orgasmic, the way he completely ruins me.

I look up to find that he is watching me in the mirror, his eyes now locking with mine as he fucks me with his fingers. I feel my stomach tighten, already on the verge of an orgasm.

While maintaining eye contact, I run my hand down towards his cock, palming him through his jeans. He lets out a groan, a dangerous look now shining in his eyes.

"Don't start what you can't finish, sweetie," he groans, his hand gripping my breast tighter. I continue rubbing against him through his jeans, his erection fighting against the tight zipper.

I feel a strong sensation of pleasure and look down to see that he has started rubbing against my clit as well, the Evol now taking over the working of my breasts.

I moan again, finally reaching my orgasm as I fall apart beneath his fingers. He lets my head fall back as I pant, my body shaking as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out of me.

When I finally come down from my high, he takes his fingers out of me, bringing them up to his lips and licking them hungrily. I stand up, my hands moving to his jeans as I fight to get them off. He helps me take them off, pulling down his boxers and letting his erection spring up towards me.

I kneel, my hands rubbing along the sides of his shaft sensually. "Do you know how you made me feel when you kneeled in front of me earlier? Do you know how close I was to taking you right there?" He asks, tilting my head up with his hand so that I am looking directly into his eyes.

I don't hesitate, maintaining eye contact with him as I take the tip of his cock in my mouth. He groans, running a hand through my hair and grabbing it roughly. I inch slowly down his shaft, making him suffer like how he made me suffer earlier.

"Fuck, you're such a brat," he groans, using his grip on my hair to push himself further into my mouth. I take him in eagerly, my tongue swirling around him as he moves in and out of my mouth. He curses under his breath, and I feel his cock twitch inside me.

I moan, the vibration against his cock sending him reeling. He pulls out of my mouth, panting. I begin to protest, but he puts a hand over my mouth. "You're getting me too close. There's more I want to do to you," he breathes, practically picking me up off the ground and leading me over to the chair.

He sits down, his cock standing at attention as he keeps me raised above him. "Are you ready?" He asks, his voice dripping in need. I nod, practically begging, and he lines himself up with my entrance.

"Hold on," he says, and I grip his shoulders tightly as he pushes himself into me. Something close to a scream escapes my throat, his entire length sheathed into me in one hard push. "You okay?" He asks, pausing to make sure I am not in pain.

"More. Please," I manage to whimper out. This is all the permission he needs, thrusting in and out of me at inhumane speeds as he groans into my neck.

He begins kissing my skin again, this time more sloppy as he licks up and down the column of my neck. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, his cock hitting the deepest point of my pussy over and over again.

I bite into his neck, my hands still gripping tightly onto his shoulders as he lifts me up and down on his cock. He groans, his dick twitching inside of me eagerly.

"They should be just inside here," I hear Kieran's voice say from behind the door, his footsteps approaching closer.

"Shit," Sylus mutters, practically leaping up from the chair we are sitting on. Like lightning, he pulls us into one of the dressing rooms, his Evol grabbing our pile of clothes and bringing it in with us.

The door opens as soon as we are inside, barely seconds after we had made it to safety.

"Mr. Sylus? The tailor his here to see you," Kieran announces, before leaving the room. We sit in silence for a moment, before the tailor clears his throat.

"Sir?" He asks the empty room, "Trying something on?"

"Yes, just trying out one of the vests from the Fall Collection," Sylus says, his voice surprisingly even. It's then that his Evol lifts me into the air, his dick finding its way back to the entrance of my pussy.

"Syl-" I begin, but he covers my mouth with his hand as he thrusts back inside of me. I whimper, his hand muffling the sound as he continues to thrust in and out of me.

"Well, sir, I am here to take your measurements whenever you are done," the man says, oblivious to what his happening inside of his changing room.

"We have already taken care of that for you. Now, please leave us be," Sylus tells the man authoritatively, his finger moving to my clit as he continues to utterly destroy me. It takes everything in my power not to scream into his hand out of sheer pleasure.

"You've taken your own measurements?" The man asks, bewildered. "I must insist you let me do them. That way we can assure they are as accurate as can-"

"I assure you, they are accurate. Right, sweetie?" He asks me, uncovering my mouth as he continues to pound into me. I look at him with wide eyes, but he just raises an eyebrow, prompting me to answer the man.

"Y-yes. Everything i-is...great," I tell him, in the most even tone I can manage. Sylus has not stopped, his Evol dancing around my body and leaving goosebumps along my skin.

"You hear that? We're doing great. Now, wait for us downstairs, and don't bother us again."

The man apologizes before shuffling out, the door closing behind him. Sylus uncovers my mouth, only pounding harder into me. "Sylus! What if he- fuck- had h-heard us?"

Sylus just looks down at me, pressing down on my stomach to compress my walls even further. "Would you have liked that? If he had found me fucking you like this?" he asks, his cock twitching as if close to release.

"Fuck, Sylus," I moan, my own orgasm nearing closer. The many sensations- his finger on my clit, his dick pounding into me, his Evol around my tits- it's too much to bear.

"Please- Please, let me finish inside you," he groans, sweat dripping down his toned chest as he continues fucking me. He looks at me expectantly, and I just nod in response. He growls, his orgasm finally reaching the edge.

Mine arrives first, my legs shaking as my pussy pulsates around him. My nails scrape along his back, leaving long claw marks along his toned muscles. This sensation drags out his orgasm, his hot strands shooting into me and coating the walls he had spent so long destroying.

He continues moving as we both ride out our orgasms, his lips meeting mine and gently swirling his tongue in my mouth. When I finally stop writhing beneath him, he stops his movement, keeping his cock inside me.

He stops kissing me, choosing instead to look down at me fondly. He runs his thumb along my lips, letting it drag along my bottom lip slowly. I'm panting, my hair sticking to my forehead as I heave out a breath.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, wiping away a tear that had run down my face from pure pleasure. "Why don't we give them our measurements over the phone? I think we should head back to my place and relax for the rest of the day."

I just nod, pulling him in for a kiss that makes the butterflies in my stomach resume their fluttering. He sighs into my mouth, kissing me back softly and pulling me closer to his warm body.

✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧༺♛༻✧

Thanks for reading! As always, my asks are open (and anonymous) if anyone would like to request anything :)

-Robyn <3

#love and deepspace #smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #lads sylus #sylus smut #sylus lnd #sylus x reader #lnds #lnds smut

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voxslays · 1 day ago

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HAZBIN ON ICE ᯓ★

Featuring °˖➴ Husk, Alastor, Lucifer, & Velvette x Reader (Separately); in which you go ice skating with them!

Lucifer

This man is tricky. I can imagine him being able to skate somewhat well when he was back in heaven—even being able to do a few minor jumps (and spins) but it’s been eons since then…and he has kinda forgotten...

However, you can help him. Whether you are good or bad at skating, it doesn’t really matter. The two of you make it fun either way.

If you are good at skating, you can reteach him how to stay on his feet without falling, and if you are bad? Don’t worry, you two can fall onto the hard and cold ice together.

Velvette

Let’s be honest, she isn’t there for the ice skating. She’s there for the selfies. It’s winter time, and her followers just eat up her winter picks. Especially the ones that feature you in them…I guess you can say you are a fan favorite lol.

Can probably skate decently…but isn’t great. I can imagine Velvette being able to stay on her feet, but not do any spins or jumps without falling. (She makes sure you delete all the footage with her being less than graceful).

Alastor

Alastor is good at nearly everything. Whether it’s cooking or writing his own scripts for his radio broadcasts, he is almost perfect. The same goes for ice skating, as a child, his mother probably taught him how to skate.

If you can’t skate and keep falling down, Alastor is surprisingly patient with you. He teaches you how to get up—and stay on your feet. Arguably the two most important things for being able to ice skate (will also show off-).

Is definitely the most graceful on ice (and land) of the Hazbin crew, and will definitely teach you a few helpful tips and tricks, regardless if you can skate or not.

Husk

Not the most graceful, but can balance on his own two feet without falling. You will not catch this man doing any kinds of tricks though…

Is very calm and patient. He likes to stay towards the railings of the ice rink though. ‘It’s just to be safe’ but we all know he is scared of falling infront of you.

After you’re done ice skating, he will buy you hot cocoa—or alternatively, bring you back to the hotel bar and make you a few drinks.

I had written so much more- but for some reason tumblr didn’t save it and it got deleted 😭 I’ll do a part two with more characters (and more bullet points) if you guys want. I’m sorry! ᯓ★

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 days ago

Note

Another hear me out: ii is sick and iii and gf reader (ves and ivy are busy idk dun ask me) head out to get meds and stuff for our poor boy but they get surprised by a huge storm and long story short iii offered her his coat like the gentleman he is and as they return ii sees his precious sweet little gf drenched and in another mans coat 👁️👁️✨

Grumpy sick boy

“Hey, are you busy?”, you had managed to slip out into the kitchen after bickering with ii for the past twenty minutes. His coughs rang through the apartment. “Not really what’s up”, iii voice fills your ears. “Dragged him to the doctors finally”, you sigh, “he has an infection that needs antibiotics”. “Shit”, you can hear him moving around in his apartment. “Yeah and I don’t have a way to get there”, you say quietly feeling so silly even bringing it up. Knowing that you could drive it’s just that stupid fear of doing it that paralyzed you every time. “I’ll be at yours in 15, I’ll get you there”, iii reassures you. “You sure?”, you ask once more just in case. “Yeah, my man is sick, got to make sure you both are okay”, you hear the sound of keys jingle and the weight instantly drops from your shoulders. “You’re the best”, you mutter before hanging up.

A grumpy ii is staring at you both from the sofa where he had been trying to prove that he wasn’t half as sick as he was. “You look like a Victorian child dying”, iii snorted waiting for you to pick up everything that you needed. “Fuck you”, ii grunted coughing into his fist. “You wouldn’t have enough energy for that little guy”, iii snorted, making you shake your head. ii flipped him off. “You try to sleep”, you brush your fingers over ii’s damp forehead, concern written all over your face, “we won’t take long”, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand you quickly stand up. You’re almost out the door when ii’s voice rings through the hallway. “iii”, his tone is serious and iii instantly turns towards him, “You get her home safely man”. He just gives ii a knowing smile, “Precious cargo, trust me I’m aware”.

ii was genuinely a calm man. On paper. If you squint… but once the rain started twenty minutes after you two had left he had dragged himself up from the sofa and towards the window. He trusted you both and iii was the best driver out of all of them but it still didn’t ease his nerves. Not until he saw the familiar car pulling up. Turning towards the door immediately. His stomach dropped slightly at the sound of you both laughing in the hallway. But nothing prepared him for the blow of seeing you two drenched, the white dress you had on clinging to your skin. He could see your underwear from where he was standing. And the jacket. The jacket iii had was now clinging to your skin.

“Jesus you look fucking batshit crazy”, iii chuckled. Making you turn towards the hallway. “ii, you need to be in bed, darling”, you shook your head, kicking your shoes off. But his eyes were burning holes in iii’s face. “we got caught in the rain”, he explained. “I can fucking tell”, ii crossed his arms over his chest. The sight of your rosy cheeks, hair sticking to your face, the fucking dress… it was driving him insane. “We had a bit of a nip situation…”, “If you finish that sentence…”, ii grunted. “Darling, he was being a gentleman, and saved me from flashing the whole street”, you said softly. “Go change please”, he turned to you, pleading eyes looking at you. “And you, never even think about her… anything”, ii pointed a warning finger at iii. “Mate, I adore your girl but trust me all I care about is keeping you both alive”, iii snorted. You moved to take off his jacket but iii quickly stopped you, “Keep it on in case I see that black thong and then…”, “iii”, ii whisper shouted making you chuckle as you shook your head. “Very nice, thong, yn darling”, he blows you a kiss, before moving for the door. “I will stab you with a drumstick you dick”, ii hissed pulling you behind him. “Drive save, silly goose”, you waved iii off, cackling. “Don’t encourage him”, ii whined, “You need to learn to pick your battles”, you tapped his chest, “Off to bed you go”, “hold up are you on his fucking side here?”, ii grunts, sinking into the sofa frowning making you let out yet another laugh as you pulled his medicine onto the counter.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #sleep token imagine #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token ii imagine #sleep token ii x you #sleep token ii x reader #sleep token ii fanfiction #sleep token iii imagine #sleep token iii x reader

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adoresia · 3 days ago

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𐙚 ˚ CHAPTER 4 : steps into the storm

Sia here! : I’ve written 8 chapters today, someone save me. This is all written btw, there will be texts next chap! and it’s kinda short because I have something planned for the next few chapters, I genuinely didn’t mean for this to be so angsty y/n starting to piss me off but I guess she has a reason 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 you’ll find out next few chaps 😤 probably gonna be asleep when this is posted Lolz xx

word count : 1.4k

Series masterlist | main jjk m.list

previous/next

Taglist : @fushiguruuzzzz @mystic-megumi @aldebrana @anotherwriternamedclara @tlissablr @2dmenfr @academiq @vmpky @lizbix @blubearxy @ashlvss @rreveurdoll

Your apartment felt colder than usual. The heater clicked faintly in the corner of the room, struggling to chase away the chill that seeped through the walls. You sat on the edge of your couch, hands curled tightly in your lap, staring at the faint frost forming along the window edges. Outside, snow swirled like delicate, aimless dancers under the streetlights—soft and serene, a stark contrast to the knot in your chest.

It had been a long day. One where you had spent almost every moment with Yuji, it wasn’t hard to admit that you were actually having a great time. Probably for the first time in a while, but something had to always go wrong. You couldn’t be trusted to have fun before something happened. Forcing you to push people away, trying to stay quiet and invisible—something you’d always been good at until recently. Yuji was relentless, and despite how much you tried to shut him out, the thought of him made your heart ache.

You let out a deep sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Letting people in was supposed to make everything easier, and now you were sitting here, alone again, yet still feeling as though the world’s gaze was pinned on you.

Meanwhile, Yuji was running through the snow. Literally running. His breath misted in the freezing air as his shoes crunched and slid against the powdery ground. The snow had begun to fall harder, flurries spinning in the wind and biting at his cheeks, but he didn’t care. His coat flapped behind him, half-zipped, and his hair was dusted white as the snowflakes clung to him.

He was overthinking everything. Every word he had said, every look you had given him over the past few days, replayed in his head like a film on loop. Why did you seem so distant? Did he screw up? Did someone else say something? His heart raced—not just from running, but from that twisting, gnawing worry.

When he reached the front of your building, he didn’t stop to even catch his breath, his stamina was crazy. For a moment, Yuji stared at the glowing window on the second floor—yours. His resolve solidified.

The stairs creaked as he climbed them, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, as though bracing for rejection. Finally, he raised his hand and knocked softly.

Nothing.

He knocked again, more firmly. “Hey. Y/n? You there?”

Inside, you froze, your breath catching as the knocks echoed through your apartment. You sat frozen on the floor, leaning against the door, legs pulled up to your chest as you stared at the wood as if it might splinter. How did he even get here so fast?

You didn’t answer.

“Y/n…?” Yuji’s voice sounded quieter this time, softer. “I know you’re in there. I, uh… I saw your light on.”

The apartment felt colder than usual, a chill lingering in the air no matter how tightly you wrapped your arms around yourself. The lights in the room seemed dimmer, too, their glow doing little to chase away the gray feeling that had settled in your chest.

You sat on the floor, your back pressed against the door, knees pulled to your chest. The cold from the wood had started to seep into your skin, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t, not with Yuji standing on the other side of the door.

He had been knocking softly at first, his voice muffled but persistent as he called your name. Then he tried again, louder this time. “Y/n, I know you’re in there. Just let me in for a sec, please?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, teeth biting into your bottom lip as if that could stop the sting behind your eyes. You hated how easily Yuji could read you—how quickly he seemed to figure out something was wrong.

When you didn’t answer, you heard a sigh on the other side of the door. “Okay… I’ll just wait out here, then.”

There was a pause. You almost thought he might be bluffing, but then he knocked again. “It’s cold out here, y’know. Like, really cold. I’ll probably freeze to death before you let me in.”

You let out a shaky breath, gripping the fabric of your sleeves. “Then go home, Yuji. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not leaving,” he shot back, his voice steadier now, firmer. “You got home only a few minutes before I got here. I know you’re in there.”

You didn’t respond.

Yuji’s voice softened again, the gentle persistence back in it. “Y/n… come on. Just let me in. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

His words made something in your chest twist painfully. You swallowed thickly, staring down at your knees as you whispered, “I want to be alone.”

There was silence on the other side. You thought for a moment he might’ve left, but then came his reply, soft but unwavering. “No, you don’t.”

You hated how right he was.

Your hands moved before you could stop yourself, unlocking the door with a sharp click. You didn’t open it all the way—just enough for Yuji to push it the rest of the way himself. When he stepped inside, his cheeks were flushed from the cold, snow dusting his hair and shoulders like he’d run the whole way there.

Yuji closed the door quietly behind him, shaking the snow from his jacket. His eyes met yours, concern written all over his face.

“Thanks you for letting me in,” he said softly.

You didn’t say anything, turning your back on him as you walked further into the apartment. You sat on the edge of the couch, arms crossed tightly over your chest, refusing to look at him. Yuji followed, stopping a few feet away like he was afraid to get too close.

“Y/n,” he started, his tone careful, “what’s going on? What happened? Did I do something? If I did, I’m sorry, I just. We were having such a great time?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Yuji flinched at your tone but didn’t back down. “I know, but… Y/n, that’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” you repeated bitterly, finally looking up at him. “What’s not fair is you standing here, pretending you care when we both know you don’t.”

Yuji’s brows furrowed, hurt flashing across his face. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I care.”

“Because, I know you don’t,” you said, your voice rising. The words came tumbling out, unfiltered and sharp. “You barely know me, Yuji. You act like it’s your job to check up on me, to be this nice, but you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to owe you anything, so you can stop pretending you do.”

Yuji looked at you, stunned into silence for a moment. His expression shifted—first hurt, then confused, before finally settling on something more serious, his jaw clenching.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, his voice firm. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true.” you snapped. Your chest felt tight, words spilling out faster than you could stop them. “This—this whole ‘making friends’ thing was a mistake. I knew something bad was going to happen. I should’ve just stayed on my own.”

Yuji took a step forward, his brows knitting together in frustration. “That’s not fair to you, Y/n. You can’t just shut everyone out because you’re scared of—”

“Stop it,” you cut him off again, your voice trembling now. “Stop acting like you know what’s best for me.”

Yuji froze, his mouth half-open as if he wanted to argue more, but he didn’t. For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing.

Finally, Yuji exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking. “Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than you. He turned toward the door, his movements slower than usual, like he was reluctant to leave. “I just… I don’t get it, Y/n. I don’t get why you won’t let anyone in.”

You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to get it.”

Yuji lingered for a second longer, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—something between hurt and helplessness. Then, without another word, he opened the door and stepped back into the cold.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the room fell silent again.

You let out a shaky breath, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. You stared at the floor for a long time, your chest tight as you replayed the argument over and over in your mind.

Yuji’s words lingered, though.

“I don’t get why you won’t let anyone in.”

You leaned back on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest again as the room seemed to grow colder around you. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t want to be alone.

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lydiacatfish · 10 hours ago

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i agree with all of what you're saying! i think there is a common thread of misogyny in the construction of female characters in OI, whether they're meant to be "good" or "bad," which is interesting in a genre that is (seemingly) written by women for women.

i also think you're right when you say the better authors are able to create female characters who have their own stuff going on or aren't just blindly following the protagonist. my favorite example of this is probably Medea/the witches in Kill the Villainess. like, she's helping Eris, but she clearly has a whole other backstory and plot going on that Eris doesn't really give a shit about unless it helps her directly. (highly recommend this one by the way just tws for suicide and sexual assault)

this is opposed to, say, Sarah in The Villainess Turns The Hourglass (which i literally just finished reading so that's why it's my go-to lol) who starts off as a teacher for the protagonist but eventually basically morphs into her biggest fan and is willing to put everything on the line for her despite a lack of actual deep connection to her? like, the actual villain's main allies in that story are much closer to her (the villain) but are still just sort of her supporting cast on her side of the battle or whatever

but yeah, like, men get to have stuff going on. maybe they're students at The Academy. maybe they have to Run The Family Business/Dukedom/Prepare To Ascend The Throne. meanwhile the female characters are having tea parties and buying all the jewelry assets in the store. like, sometimes the female protagonist gets to run a business, but she rarely has to worry about how to actually run a business or, like, money. it's just a hobby until she gets married and her husband can provide for her <3 (barf)

i do often actually enjoy the stories in rofan oi and when i don't i take a break and read, like, real books, because a lot of oi are just kind of garbage lol. they don't do anything for me intellectually, except in the cases of really good ones, and the power fantasy you described is not one that applies to me! i'm not a heterosexual korean public servant who's had to work herself to the bone her whole life just to get by, so maybe that's why, but i just couldn't see myself acting the same way as anyone in any of these stories! i mostly read 'em to go "wow what are they gonna come up with this time? how are they going to subvert The Tropes? is this girl going to spend more than 10 minutes worried about modern day korea or is she just gonna go whole hog on being the crown prince's bridal candidate or whatever?" but they do get stale after a while because, like i said, they're not actually relatable.

me in an isekai: what do you girls do all day? just, sit around waiting for men to show up and make something happen? i gotta get the fuck outta here these clothes are so uncomfortable--

and as i was writing this i was thinking "what's one main thread that separates the Good Girls from the Bad Girls?" because as we know a villainess can do actually bad stuff and still be the heroine, and lives under a double standard to the rest of the characters. like, a protagonist and antagonist can be the same person with different colored hair, essentially

i started writing a whole essay about how it's actually tied to the ideal of filial piety in east asian cultures but i felt that was off topic so i'll save it for another day.

i am soooo curious about your takes on otome isekai villainess stories and their morality + gender constructs 👀 if you'd be willing to elaborate....

so villainessekai is a BIG genre. like. big big absolutely massive genre. because of that it's kind of hard to make sweeping generalizations genre-wise just because there are so many different authors with different takes on the general premise... that being said, I have enough time to ramble about some gender stuff I've noticed. maybe ill elaborate on the protag centered morality another time - my tldr on that at this moment is just "for a genre allegedly focused on humanizing women who were considered 'evil,' there sure are a lot of common double standards when it comes to how its protagonists behave."

(part of the protag centered morality, to be clear, is just kind of a common effect of self-inserty escapist fiction, but it's... just sort of weird and noticeable whenever it crops up in this genre. like i said i might yap about it another time. penelope eckhart you live rent free in my head what the hell is happening in vadd)

but yeah! gender!

quick rundown for those not familiar with the genre. villainess isekai is a genre of manwha + manga + webnovels + light novels that shares a common base premise. the protagonist has been isekai'd into the body of a fictional character from a story (often an otome game or a novel) she knows. the fictional character plays the role of a villainess in the original novel, and is doomed to an unsavory fate. the protagonist must try to change the story she knows to prevent her untimely end.

or, at least, that's the more original premise. the villainess genre is huge, and over the years, there's been takes that ditch the isekai component completely. time travel villainess stories are highly popular right now. some deal with reincarnation from a different fantasy life, like, 200 years in the past or something. some ditch the "main character has some kind of knowledge about a doomed future" aspect of the premise entirely and just lock in on the protagonist being considered an "evil woman" without messing about with any kind of supernatural foreknowledge.

but regardless. the common thread is that the woman in question is considered a villainess, and that she is almost certainly aware that she will meet her doom if she doesn't play her cards right.

I'll say here straight up that this genre is almost completely a power fantasy genre. we're about to get into whether or not the main character is "rightfully" considered a villainess or not, but no matter what the answer to that is, the main character almost always 1. is a member of a fantasy european-ish nobility 2. commands some form of social or monetary power and 3. will eventually obtain a lover of incredibly high social status. being able to be "evil" is often a huge component of this power fantasy, but there's a baseline of power that can be obtained even for protagonists who seem completely powerless at the start. you will always end with a protagonist in a position of unbelievable wealth, comfort, social respect, and power.

this plays heavily into the genre's treatment of gender. because what are the acceptable ways for a woman to wield power, even in the alleged safe space of a fantasy?

I tend to categorize villainessekai protagonists into two broad categories, for that reason. the "actually evil," and the "unjustified victim." while there's of course a huge amount of nuance that can exist between these two categorizations, in practice they tend to be extremely rigid. what we are actually talking about here are fantasies of "unacceptable" and "acceptable" power wielding, and the protagonists tend to be constructed quite differently depending on which fantasy they cater to.

category one: the "actually evil." while these protagonists can be quite complicated and often are unjustly treated by the societies they are in, they are still women who wield a huge amount of power and take quite a lot of joy in beating people over the head with it. they're sexy, confident, and will achieve their goals no matter what it takes, even if it does mean being viewed as evil in the eyes of the world. these protagonists are actually usually not isekai'd - there is no body snatching involved. they are simply women who have had Enough with the world beating down on them, and have decided that they're going to fight back no matter what. time travel foreknowledge is common but not always necessary.

the power fantasy here is pretty clear cut to me. inhabiting the psyche of the evil, undesirable femme fatale is a fun power trip and lets the reader think about how nice it would be to just... not care about social opinion, and to effortlessly outwit and trap everyone who has ever been cruel to them. no more being niceys you can just start beating people to death with your epic magic or whatever.

villainess isekai is a romance genre. because of this, there is a layer of romantic fantasy involved as well. the fantasy that you'd be wanted because of your cruel or evil or ruthless traits, and not in spite of them. also maybe sometimes you want a man who will bark like a dog for you ok i won't linger on it but there does seem to be a fair amount of femdom undertones in a number of these

category two: the "unjustified victim." there's subcategories to this in my head, but the basic idea here is that our protagonist is Nice and does not deserve to be treated as a villainess. either she's been isekai'd into the body of someone who sucks and now has to deal with the fallout of actions she did not commit, or she (or her body host!) are being unfairly villainized and treated as a scapegoat by others. this category is populated hugely by doe-eyed ingenues. while there's a fair amount in this category who still possess some capacity for unkindness or spite against the ones who have wronged them, most of them are kind, loveable sweethearts who don't want to hurt a fly.

the power fantasy here, I would argue, is actually mostly a persecution fantasy. while there is of course nuance & a lot of authors have a ton of different takes on this, the fantasy here is one about being treated unjustly and proving the haters wrong, either by having someone step in and rescue you or by wielding power justly to defend yourself. the fantasy is about being acceptable all along, good all along, and just needing a chance to prove yourself.

the romantic fantasy element here is usually about having someone recognize your true worth. instead of believing all the shit about you being evil or cruel or whatever, someone is able to look past that and recognize that you are a beautiful and kind-hearted woman underneath. also, again, he will save you from the Haters. (the truly evil woman rarely needs a savior because the fantasy is about saving herself.)

because of this, we get two pretty clear constructions of femininity. we have a dark feminine and a light feminine. sexuality & evil, sweetness and kindness. weirdly i don't think the genre super often has much to say about this. it just simply Is. here's your power fantasy - what flavor do you like? sometimes there's some feminist reflection on this in-text but i rarely consider that like... valid... unless the entire story treats women besides the protagonist well. kinda hypocritical to reflect on the role of Evil Women and still have women who are treated as Evil Bitches by the narrative.

hey speaking of. those also are some secret other categories of woman.

i might have mentioned in anothee post that the villainess genre Loves to reinvent villainess tropes by recasting someone else as the "evil woman" to our "good or at least sufficiently projectable woman" protag? yeah so here they are.

there's the classic evil dark feminine, which I won't linger on because we've all seen it. she's a nasty possibly sexy conniving skank who wants to steal your man. we've all seen it. Next.

but what's interesting to me is that there's also a category of evil light feminine. these are called either "green tea bitches" or "white lotuses" by fans, and they are often (not always) the Original Protagonists of the story the actual protagonist has been isekai'd into. usually it's some kind of reveal that the entire original story was a foul unreliable narrator's trick, and the white lotus has been using her apparent innocence to torment and vex our poor protagonist.

but regardless of her role in the Original Story, the white lotus is always the same. she seems very sweet, very innocent, very pure, very acceptably feminine, but on the inside she's a living nightmare who weaponizes her femininity to hurt people.

if I'm being generous to the genre, this can be considered a valid reflection of the fact that there are some women who weaponize femininity in order to put down other women. many of us have met people like that. it happens. it might be considered a power fantasy to "defeat" that kind of woman.

if I'm being critical of the genre - which I almost always am - I would say that having defeated one boogeyman of Evil Woman by turning it acceptable, the villainess isekai genre must invent a new boogeyman to pit its protagonists against. we're just redefining the borders of which sort of woman is allowed to be relatable and good, rather than challenging the base notions of misogyny and patriarchy that lock women into eternal acceptability combat. oh no we have a fake acceptable woman who must be proven as a fraud! the real Good Woman is right here! etc.

sort of my endcap on Gender Thoughts here - i would note that almost none of these characters are anything other than extremely feminine. we have a few tomboyish or crossdressing protagonists here and there, but they almost always shed that in favor of ballgowns at some point or another. I've noticed this as an aspect of heterosexual romance, but it does feel very strange to me how much femininity is on display. as a nonbinary lesbian, the world of rofan always feels alien to me. whether antagonist or protagonist, whether the character is "acceptable" or "unacceptable" in her femininity, this is a world where being genuinely uninterested in femininity as a woman is nigh unthinkable. there is always an emphasis placed on the fact that she is in fact a woman, and one who will eventually be desirable to men, no matter what the circumstances are! you could draw a lot of conclusions from that. my personal conclusion is that het romance is kind of scary and highly based in affirming gender binaries. :(

#idk what kind of point i'm trying to make here but. yeah. here you go #i'm reading a rofan right now that's absolutely terrible but sunk cost fallacy #the art quality dropped SEVERELY between seasons #oi #at the end of the day oi rofan is a power fantasy like you said but it's not one either of us subscribe to #so it seems we're both reading out of pure academic interest but for different spheres lol #would love to see 2 girls kiss tho. someone on reddit recced one with a lesbian who falls in love with a ghost pirate or something #and i was like hello?#it's called sherbet above the sea of fog #anyway. goodnight

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narcissisticsmoker · 3 days ago

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The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the morning outside and the steady rhythm of my breathing. You were already awake, kneeling between my legs, your eyes heavy with desire and submission. The sun filtered through the curtains, highlighting the flush on your cheeks and the way your lips parted, waiting for my next move.

I leaned back against the headboard, lazy from the remnants of last night’s passion, my body still humming with satisfaction. My fingers tangled in your hair, pulling gently, just enough to tilt your head back so your gaze met mine. You looked up at me with that perfect mix of anticipation and surrender, and I couldn’t help the smirk that spread across my face.

“You look so beautiful like this,” I murmured, my voice low and deliberate, my thumb brushing against your jawline. “Completely mine.”

Your breath hitched at the words, your hands resting lightly on my thighs, waiting for permission to move. I loved this moment—the stillness, the way you hung on my every word, every touch, desperate for my command. My thumb traced the curve of your lips, pressing lightly until you opened for me, your tongue flicking out instinctively.

“Good girl,” I said, my tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, let me see how well you can behave.”

I let my hand guide you, slow and deliberate, teasing myself as much as I was teasing you. Your lips were warm, soft, moving with a rhythm that made my breath catch. I groaned softly, my head tipping back, letting the sensation wash over me. My other hand tightened in your hair, holding you steady as I set the pace, controlling every movement, every second of your surrender.

“You like this, don’t you?” I growled, my voice rough with pleasure. “Being here, between my legs, doing exactly what I tell you to.”

You moaned softly in response, the vibration sending a shiver through my body. My grip tightened, pulling you closer, demanding more. “Look at me,” I commanded, my voice sharp enough to cut through the haze of your submission.

Your eyes flicked up to meet mine, dark with lust, your cheeks flushed. The sight alone nearly pushed me over the edge, but I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. I slowed your pace, pulling you back slightly, smirking at the way your lips parted in protest.

“Not yet,” I said, my tone teasing but firm. “I’m not done playing with you.”

I guided you again, my breath growing heavier, my control slipping with every soft moan, every flick of your tongue. My free hand trailed down to your face, cupping your cheek as I watched you, completely lost in the moment, your devotion written in every movement.

“Such a good girl,” I murmured, my voice softer now, filled with a dark kind of satisfaction. “You love this, don’t you? Making me feel like this, knowing you’re the only one who can.”

You moaned again, your hands gripping my thighs tighter as you worked harder, your eagerness spurring me on. My body tensed, the pleasure building to a breaking point, and I let out a low, guttural growl, my hands tightening in your hair as I finally let go, letting you take every bit of me.

When it was over, I leaned back, my chest rising and falling as I caught my breath. I pulled you up to me, my hands cradling your face, my lips capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss.

“You’re perfect,” I murmured against your lips, my fingers brushing against your flushed cheeks. “And you’re not leaving this bed until I’ve had you again.”

#cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm blog #bd/sm community #cnc somno #daddy's good girl #somno breeding #bd/sm kink

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thezombieprostitute · 1 day ago

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Tech Tuesday: Walter Marshall

Summary: Your work friend oversteps in his attempts to help you.

Warnings: Size discrimination. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is short, female. No other physical descriptors used.

A/N2: This chapter is written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge. Prompt: extreme weather leads to forced proximity

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Your mom practically threw a fit when you told her you'd be visiting Christmas Day and not spending the night beforehand. She said it was bad enough you hadn't shown up on Thanksgiving but to miss out on Christmas Eve family time, even though you had no say in your work schedule, was the biggest personal insult to her. You're glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes over the phone. She really never understood how draining it could be. The human mind craves stimulation and working security at an empty building does not provide! You know, from experience, that you're going to be drained on so many levels that driving out to her place would likely result in you driving into a ditch.

But, of course there's just no pleasing some people. At least Dad understood and he promised he'd talk to her. You made sure to thank him and promised to bring an extra box of donuts in the morning. If the weather held.

The tedium of the job did nothing for your growing anxiety over the weather reports. Being able to look outside only made it worse. You could barely see the parking lot through the snowfall and the winds are only supposed to get worse. Your height added another dimension of difficulty with the whole thing. You weren't looking forward to having to dig your way through the snow to get to your car.

During one of your breaks you mentioned this to Walter who offered to wait to leave with you. You raise an eyebrow at the insinuation and he's quick to add, "two bodies are likely to have an easier time of it than one."

"That's fair," you sigh. "But don't you have places to be?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Faye is at her mother's. It's one of the reasons I volunteered to come into work today at all."

"One of?"

"Jake and his little family are another 4 reasons," he chuckles. "I swear that bastard has a photo of his twins' sad puppy dog eyes just to remind us of what happens if he can't be with them for the important holidays." You laugh at the absolutely believable idea. "Still, I can't say I blame him," Walter says thoughtfully. "Maybe it's something I should've done for Faye."

"Hey, I can't even imagine the pain of being divorced let alone divorced with a kid, but I'm pretty sure missing one holiday evening or two wouldn't have saved things." He nods. "Now if you weren't such a grump all the time, maybe that would've fixed things, but would you still be you if you weren't constantly upset about things?"

He gives you playful glare that makes you smirk. "I'm not that grumpy."

"Yes, you are," you playfully jab back. "And I'm on good terms with the G's so I should know."

He huffs, "I suppose you do interact with more people than I do."

"Yup. So I'm definitely more of an expert on who's a grump and who isn't."

"I will respect your professional opinion then and, admit, I can be grumpy."

"Thank you."

Just then the power flickers and you both look at each other before running back to your respective departments. Walter needs to make sure the servers are still going and you need to check the emergency warnings for the area. If there are power outages, people need to go home as best they're able.

Back at the IT department Pine, Rose, Random and the Double G's are all moving. Walter ignores them all to get to the server room. He breathes a sigh of relief that the safeties put in place are still working. He does a quick triple check of everything before reporting to Pine.

Pine nods, relieved at the news. "I've received an update from the facilities manager that, for our safety, we should all go home. CEO Levinson has approved. You will all still receive full day's pay plus the holiday extra, as agreed upon. Please travel as safely as you are able!"

Everyone goes to close out their workstations and head home but Walter waits for you in the security area. You come out from the security office with the other two people working with you today.

"Bob, you take floors 1 through 3. I got 4 through 6. Terry you take 7 and 8."

"Why do I get the top two floors? That's a lot of stairs."

"Because you're the fastest at climbing, now move," you order. Terry grumbles but complies.

"What's going on?" Walter asks you before you can get to the stairs.

"Standard security stuff," you answer. "We're going to do a floor-by-floor sweep, making sure people know they need to go home and looking for any stragglers."

"Is it ok for me to wait here until you're done?"

"You should just go home. We're gonna have to do this at least twice."

"I promised to leave with you and I will keep it."

You give him a smile, "you're gonna regret that."

He just smiles back and you set to on your sweep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It takes you longer than Walter expected but he remains steadfast in his desire to wait for you. He keeps looking at his phone to track the weather, silently cursing everyone who wished for a white Christmas. It was gonna be a rough drive, even with his truck. He has even less faith in your VW Bug.

"Hey, big guy? You there?" Your questions cuts through his thoughts.

He steadies himself for what he knows he has to ask. "Would you be willing to let me drive you home?"

You raise an eyebrow, "first you doubt my ability to walk through snow and now you think I can't drive through it?"

"I trust you," Walter argues. "It's your car I don't trust. My truck is much safer."

Seeing his sincerity helps you calm down. "Problem is, I gotta get going first thing in the morning for family Christmas. I need my car for that."

"I'll drive back to give you a ride so you can pick up your car."

You scoff. "You'll be on the road all night. You live well outside the city lines."

He drops his head, "I just...I know that car isn't safe."

"Tell you what, you can spend the night at my place." He lifts his face at that. "We're both adults and we're friends," you continue. "You will have to sleep on the floor, though."

"I...I don't... Are you..."

"Listen, I'll agree by little bug isn't likely to get me far, at least not as far as your truck. But my place is much closer. You can stay the night and drop me off here to get my bug before you go home, ok? And yes, I have enough food for the both of us, even someone with a stomach your size."

"You make a persuasive argument," he nods.

"Damn right. Now bundle up, we've got a ton of snow to dig through."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

By the time you get to your studio apartment your beyond grateful Walter insisted on driving you home. Even the truck felt a little wobbly in the wind. Walter's knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding the steering wheel.

"You go sit on the couch and I'll whip us up some food."

Walter is too tired from the drive to argue. He's beyond grateful that you insisted he stay the night. Driving out to his house in this would be too much. As he sits on the couch, he's just happy he can sit still and calm down.

I'm the kitchen you're practically a blur with how quick you're putting things together. Sitting in the truck, unable to help, scared to talk, left you agitated. Thankfully cooking up some good food is a helpful way to let you calm down.

You're not too worried by the power flickers in the apartment. You've got a gas stove and enough blankets to keep you warm. You pause for a moment as the thought of sharing those blankets with Walter. You bet he'd be and to keep you very nice and warm. You shake your head to clear it of those thoughts. Now is not the time.

Walter has significantly calmed by now and is looking around. The two of you have hung out several times but never at your place. You've complained it's too small for the both of and he kinda has to agree. The place is tiny, about the size of his bedroom, but you've definitely made good use of the space. How else could you get both a bed and a couch to fit?

Wait, he thinks. Where's the bed? That's when it hits him, the couch, that's obviously not a pullout, is the bed. As he thinks about helping you get a proper bed his thoughts turn to being with you in that bed. He has to stop himself quick. It's not the first time his thoughts have turned that way but you've never given him any indication you're interested in a physical or romantic relationship with him. He shakes his head to try to get his brain back under control.

"Hope you don't mind brinner," you say, suddenly feeling shy as you hand Walter his food.

"Brinner?" he questions before looking at the bowl. It's a simple breakfast hash of scrambled eggs, slices sausage links, and tater tots, all covered with a light later of gravy and cheese. He smiles, "it looks damn delicious."

You smirk back at him, "well then get to eating!"

You playfully smack his arm before sitting down next to him. Unfortunately the couch, unused to the weight, starts to dip, gently pushing the two of you together. The two of you stay together like that, neither wanting to break the contact, neither wanting to be the first to speak up.

"Um...did any of your food spill?" you ask, hoping for an easy way out.

"No. Yours?"

"No."

A few more beats of silence.

"Ok," you say, deciding to take charge. "You and I are going to have a talk about what's going on here after we've gotten far enough apart we can look at each other and we've eaten. Can't have serious relationship discussions on an empty stomach."

"Of course," Walter sighs, relieved.

Both of you know you're in for a long night.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @changenameno; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @kingliam2019; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: walter marshall #walter marshall x short!reader #walter marshall x female!reader #it!walter marshall x reader

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auroracalisto · 16 hours ago

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the way i want you.

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader, 1.4k words summary: the reader is one of eloise's closest friends... and madly in love with benedict bridgerton. at a ball, he reveals his true feelings to them. a/n: the only mention of the reader being female is the dress and corset they are wearing. so. if you pretend to not read that, it could be gender neutral. this was an old draft with like two paragraphs that i started looking at. idk why it’s written in lowercase but the vibe is there and i'm not changing it. GIRL I JUST CHECKED AND I STARTED THIS IN APRIL OF 2022. bye. absolutely insane. (thank you past me, i actually really appreciate the inspo)

if there was anything you knew for certain, it was that you were madly in love with your dearest friend’s elder brother.

being near him made your heart thunder against the confines of your chest, threatening to be loud enough for all to hear.

your hands began to tremble, your voice began to waver.

the love you felt for him was so very obvious to everyone, it seemed, save for benedict.

eloise poked fun while penelope scolded her (for she, too, understood what it was like to love a bridgerton who didn't love her back). but deep down, eloise knew you would love her brother like no other. marriage might have been a fine prospect for benedict, but if he were to marry you, he would never wish for someone to love—you would be everything that he would need.

eloise had even quipped a time or two, teasing her brother and goading him into thinking about you. not that she would tell you, of course.

but love was a fickle thing. it worked in the oddest of ways, and quite frankly, it was hard to tell who benedict truly loved, if he loved at all.

he loved himself, and he loved his family. but eloise’s friend? the girl whom was just a few years younger than he, the one he saw blossom into a woman after several years of puberty? how could he possibly love her?

you wished he did. oh, it was a wish you made on the stars above more often than not. at any point in time, when you saw the first stars dot the sky, the wish would leave your lips.

let him love me.

please let him see me.

please let him know.

was it odd? perhaps. but in this world of expensive balls and beautiful debutantes, it didn’t seem too farfetched—especially when you loved someone. it would hurt to see them go off and love another, would it not?

your heart wasn't kind.

time wasn’t kind.

neither was your father or the corset you wore or the ballgown that seemed to itch in every crevice possible.

of course you had to choose the worst dress of all the ones you owned for this accursed ball! a repeat dress, to say the least. someone would snitch—you were sure it would be raved all about in lady whistledown's next pamphlet.

your mother was nowhere to be found while your father mingled with some of his military friends. eloise was hiding somewhere, most likely with penelope or by the buffet, and most of the bridgertons’ that had come to the ball were out in the ballroom floor, including anthony and colin.

but where was benedict?

you wouldn’t ask him to dance, despite your dance card being blank. you just wanted to see him—see his handsome face, his pretty smile.

lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a man was creeping up behind you until a hand found its way to your back. you nearly dropped your flute of champagne, wide eyed as you looked back at the culprit. champagne splashed by your gown, and you said a silent thank you to whatever the universe had done to prevent your repeat dress being ruined by none other than the very man of your thoughts—benedict bridgerton.

“what on earth are you doing?” you asked, quickly turning to face him.

“just coming to see my sister’s friend,” he said, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “am i not allowed to come and talk to you anymore, miss y/n?”

your eyes widened a bit. “you—of course you’re allowed. i will not tell you what to do. but to scare me like that? what if i had spilled this on you?"

“oh, i beg your pardon,” he said. “i didn’t know you were so jumpy. had i’d known, perhaps i would’ve tried to actually scare you.”

“you are a fiend, benedict bridgerton.”

he grinned. “and you love me for it, do you not?”

your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you looked away. you cleared your throat, avoiding what you truly wanted to say: yes. “why aren’t you dancing?”

“hm. well, i was, but when mother wasn’t looking, i slipped away.”

“she’ll get onto you.”

“perhaps,” he said, scrunching his nose. “but if i’m talking to you, she will excuse it.”

you rolled your eyes. “and why is that?”

“you’re eloise’s friend. she’ll excuse it.”

you purse your lips. right. just eloise’s friend. you let out a soft sigh and nod, looking out at the ballroom floor. the song was soft and light and the party-goers danced slowly with their partners. it was a sweet song, if you had to admit to anything that night.

you wouldn’t admit your love for benedict. you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. not now, not ever.

something catches benedict’s eye and he would have up and left had he not been thinking. he cleared his throat as he looked down at you.

“come with me,” he said.

eyebrows furrowed, you glanced at him. “what?”

“you heard me,” he said. “come with me.”

you do as you’re told. you follow him, and he leads you in to a hallway. there are a few other patrons, so you are not alone with a man (oh, god, imagine the scandal), but he specifically leads you to a painting in the middle of the hall.

“a painting?” you asked.

“not just any painting,” he said. “look at it. what does it remind you of?”

you shift where you stand, looking up at it. the oil pastels are beautiful, yes, but it’s a simple painting of a beautiful woman. what’s it to remind you of?

“it looks like your sister,” you said.

he snorted softly. “no,” he said. “it’s beautiful, yes, but that’s not what i wanted you to look at.”

he pointed towards the background. just beyond the portrait of the woman lay a field of beautiful flowers, each one meticulously painted by whomever the painter had been. it looked like it must have taken a painstakingly long time to paint each individual one.

“it reminds me of all the time i do not have,” you simply said.

“oh, you are no fun, y/n!” he said. he looked down at you and smiled. “they remind me of you.”

you blinked slowly. “what?”

“beautiful and yet so unattainable, hm?”

you blinked again. “i beg your pardon?”

“look at them,” he said. “each one unique in their own way, each one hand painted by someone with enough gumption to keep on with it. whoever did it wanted their painting to be utterly beautiful and difficult to recreate. all the fine detail makes the painting that much more extraordinary.”

“wait, wait, benedict, unattainable?”

“right. well if i wanted to recreate this, it would take me some time, wouldn’t it?”

“benedict. how would something like that remind you of me?”

he smiled at you for a moment before he softly said: “you’re eloise’s friend. i couldn’t do that to her.”

“do what?”

“have you the way i want you.”

it’s simple—those seven words seemed to change everything, and it was one of the most simple things you had ever heard.

your lips part in mild shock and you took a slight step back, looking at benedict in confusion. “are… are you—“

“yes. i am in earnest, y/n.”

“why did you—“

“not say anything sooner? have you seen how aggravating eloise has been recently? i did not need to fuel her ammunition.”

“since when did—“

“for some time now.”

“will you let me—“

“no, i will not,” he interrupted again.

“i swear to the lord above that i will—“

“no swearing,” he said. “just self expression, hm? like the painting?”

“what? benedict, you’re not making any sense.”

“maybe not.” benedict smiled down at you. ��come. we should head back. perhaps fill in your dance card for once.”

you frowned. “what will eloise say?”

“i do not care,” he said. “it seems to me that you care far more than i do. besides, do you not hear how she speaks to me? i think she'd be honored."

he’s right—perhaps he’s yet to say anything because the way his life had been. perhaps he hadn’t said a word because of everything he and eloise had talked about. there was always timing, and sometimes, it was just a bit off.

whatever it may be, he was here, and he was true to himself. he wanted you, and he would have you, heedless of your thoughts and what eloise wanted from either of you.

oh, the scandal, dear reader. but as long as the two of you plan to marry, whatever scandal could there truly be?

#god he's such a cutie #i'm gnawing at my enclosure #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x y/n #violet bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #reader insert #x reader #female reader #fem!reader #bridgerton x fem!reader

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notsofrozt · 2 days ago

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So, for y'all "S2 Jayce meets S1 Viktor" hungry folks, here's a list of 5 of the bookmarks I've been collecting (for you specially @maiawhimsicalt) in no particular order and with no particular comentary, my braincells are on strike rn:

1. Of Memories and Tomorrows by Lieyantosh

Post-Season 2 Jayce and Season 1 Viktor, the grief of having lost your soulmate while having to look at his younger version who doesn’t even know you, the endless exhaustion of being a second-hand love and also science.

This fic has changed something in my I cannot describe, and if anyone here even remotely likes Arcane (or even if you don't know the series at all, it's that well written) y'all should read it right know.

You didn't hate me because of what my future self did,” Viktor said, feeling distinctly pathetic. There was a certain vulnerability in this, like he was opening up his ribcage for Jayce to see. “You hate me because I'm not him. Because you came back. And he didn't.”

2. the future came undone by Lieyantosh

Instead of appearing several months after the wild rune took him, Jayce lands in the past and decides to take out Viktor before he can turn into the monster he saw in the future.

This author is just *chef kiss*

3. intertwined, sewn together by lamoureg

Just as soon as the dance begins, it’s over.

In the silver, the faint mist rays of light, he can make out a face. One that’s achingly familiar, one he knows like the back of his hand, yet isn’t familiar with whatsoever. A man, bronze skin pallid and devoid of the life Viktor is so used to seeing. Shaggy dark hair hanging in curtains around his face — a face littered with cuts and bruises, stained with dirt and soot. Heavy set brows and eyes wide in shock.

Rather inappropriately, Viktor’s first thought is oh, fuck. And his second. And his third.

Because staring back at him is Jayce.

If you read this with Jinx and Ekko's song playing in the background you're going to cry.

4. You’re starting to look really weird by anónimo

Viktor lays awake, listening to the steady breathing beside him. The breathing of a man sleeping on his husband’s side of the bed, in his husband’s clothes, with his husband’s face, but who is most certainly not his husband.

This one has a very original concept: the reunion from Viktor's POV. Older Jayce got Ekko'd into his other self's body, so there's a stranger inhabiting his partner. It delves into that whole psychological horror aspect. I love it.

5. Stay Your Pretty Eyes On Course by Neibba

“I do not recall telling you my name.” Viktor stated matter-of-factly. “Yet you know it. Have we met?” Yes. Many times. Practically lived together inside their lab, but he couldn’t tell Viktor that. No, this Viktor had no idea who Jayce really was, and he intended on keeping it that way.

After the Hexcore collapsed, Jayce gets sent back to where it all started, the day he met Viktor, but Viktor seems to have no recollection of him. What happens when Jayce gets another chance, knowing what he knows now.

This author is a writing machine powered by glorious evolution and brainworms. I love this fic, its updated almost daily, and the way the relationship between the two of them develops is wonderful.

I have many, many more saved, especially one shots of S2!Jayce having all kinds of breakdown as soon as he sees S1!Viktor. I'll make another list later when deadlines aren't breathing on my neck.

I hope you like it!!!

#jayvik #s2 jayce meets s1 viktor #I love them #I love this troupe #They have been my food and air the last few days #fic rec #arcane #arcane season 2 #jayce talis #viktor #viktor arcane #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce

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incognito-duo · 2 days ago

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Ik I'm not that big a shipper but genuinely Ekko and Jinx are objectively written so well! You don't have to be a shipper or even ship the characters to understand that their romance is peak like !! It is OBJECTIVELY written so well it hurts.

I like TimbBomb (their ship name goes so hard) because it's OBJECTIVELY a good written relationship. I love how realistic it is, how Ekko doesn't reach out to Jinx when she's actively working for Silco and is hurting his fellow Firelights. I love how because of this and because of all the people he's lost and all the people who's changed, he thinks that Jinx is beyond saving even if deep down he can see glimpses of Powder in her (like on the bridge.) Only does he go to the alt universe does he realize that who Powder - who Jinx - is as a person is created by her surroundings and that's what pushes him to go and reach out because he sees that she's just a girl who's grieving and had nowhere else to go. God, that scene where he stops her from ending everything still made me cry and I love how she thought she was imagining Ekko and when she sees he's real she decides to jump and he SAVES HER! And Ekko and Jinx only reconcile AFTER Jinx fought Piltover and doesn't align herself with Silco and is more about actually fighting against Zaun (tho yes it was more of a personal, emotional reaction it's still a valid one!)

But I also think the two obviously need to work things out way more before they become lovers. Jinx has killed Ekko's friends/fellow Firelights, and honestly you can argue that they just needed a companion - Ekko needed Jinx to see that people are more capable of change than he thought and Jinx needed Ekko to show that she's capable of change and worthy of happiness and living (something she lost when she lost Isha ;-;) But also!! Many people argue that Ekko is more so in love with the Powder he saw in the alt universe and though Jinx canonically loves Ekko, she may just want a life of solitude more (hence why she escaped and left Zaun. Cus like... I don't think she's dead gang there ain't no way-) and I think those are equally valid and interesting takes. It's okay to admit that two characters love each other but not work out yk? Idk, I think their dynamic has potential to go in so many ways and that's why it's so fun and why I love it so much!!

I just want them to be happy. Whether it's as lovers, friends, or them creating a future for themselves independent of the other like they're both my babies ok 😭

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ineclipsedpast · 22 hours ago

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I saw the letter event on X and felt inspired- haven’t written in 1st pov or within this style in years since I was like 13… so a decade. But here’s a letter from my mc, Scout to Sylus within his Abysm Sovereign myth

🚨spoilers beware🚨

Listen to my pain as you read!🥹✨

❤️‍🩹 Letters for the Dead❤️‍🩹

Sylus,

My beloved dragon.

What a cruel joke you have orchestrated. A grand master plan to be the victor between us.

Sanctuary was a lie that dwelled in Ivory City; a sheer curtain that the mass claimed they couldn’t see beyond. A place that was the antithesis of what I’d craved for my whole life while I was carefully crafted to be the weapon of your undoing.

My dragon, you were the only sanctuary I could let my soul sink into.

No matter where I go to find shelter, where I curate the life around me to be a home for a short while-

It’s empty.

Nothing grants me the warmth from the air’s chill like being shielded by your wings did. Whether I am inside or out, cloaked or not… it’s all frigid and pricks at me. It gnaws at my bones even as I stand in the brightest hours of the day.

Was it being encased in your wings, or was it you? I already know the answer, but just let me believe it could be something else.

You said I’m greedy, that you’d grant me anything I desire. Wishing to you is as pointless as blowing a dead dandelion… but, could you grant me the day that we met? Just one more time?

Let me save you, and you can take my soul to devour. The exchange is one life for another.

I found you with a broadsword embedded in your chest, your core condemned and waitingh. Your beautiful wings, chained. You were just a young dragon, sitting in solitude without a burden to your soul that was worth judgement and imprisonment. A bird with its wings clipped almost.

Any pain I experienced since that day, it dulls in comparison to the agony that I’ve felt since I saw my beloved descend from the sky, broken and battered.

My dragon, you were devastatingly beautiful.

And it all aches.

Did half of my soul go with you in your death? Perhaps it was in its entirety that followed after you, like I sometimes wish I had done myself. The life I desperately clung to, begged for you to aid me in taking back just to live…

It’s torture when the fiend I love isn’t here to take responsibility; the traces of your existence having been etched deep within my life.

Your embraces had scorched and charred me down to my bones. Your destined fate to plunge your claws into my chest still came to fruition despite your retaliations: my heart bleeds every second for you. It sears and burns as if you left gashes as a reminder of your absence.

You’re woven to me, bound and tied.

Let your devotion and sacrifice be aid in servitude to the curse I’ve willed onto you and I. You, my beloved who protected me the most and yet, tore me apart beyond repair. My vengeance towards you will someday bring you back before me, and maybe then you will know the anguish you’ve left me to drown in.

A winged creature by the likes of you should’ve known better than to let one become submerged beneath the surface.

You’ve weighed me down with horns and a tail. And you’re not even in front of me to decorate my horns like your fantasy longed for me to do to you. You’re not here in front of me to be pulled into my arms by my tail like you used to do.

Perhaps my childish refusal to part with a lamp engraved with a dragon that enraged the Judicator that led me to you…perhaps that was my most damning sign of our fate that was to come. My only source of light that possessed me like I was part of his collection, the one I resisted and then tried to protect.

Maybe it truly was you that I could never part with, and I just didn’t know it.

You were more radiant than you could ever fathom. And now, every stretch of red, every gem- it all pales in comparison to your vibrancy that you took with you.

My hair grew in a mock of your silver the more my horns settled in. My reflection just mirrors fragments of you. I long for the real dragon to be in front of me once more, to see you breathe the same air as me, rather than to cling to memories and flashes.

Time has passed, and it has all blurred together. My desire to tear the mortals I no longer truly belong to, the ones that painted your image as horrific and a monster, has become more of a fleeting daydream. Almost a semblance of your wandering thoughts that’d give you some form of amusement.

Revenge seems rather pointless and lackluster when you’re not here to reap what I’ve torn apart for you. I’ve grown tired and the aches seemed to have entrapped me wholly.

It almost feels like the moment I’d fallen for the evil dragon.

A misstep and a grand descent that could’ve saved me from all the heartbreak that laid awaiting if it weren’t for you diving after me before I could be taken by the darkness. But you caught me before what I should’ve known was a potential reprieve for what was to come. Wings had encaged me and our story began to unravel from there- that was the point of no return.

What would you have gained from saving me? Was it just because of my soul? But, the look on your face was evident enough. The speed you took to reach me and the death grip that I was met with.

I had liked you even then.

Was this your intention all along? You have half my soul, yet I wonder if you took more of me when you left.

I’ve been left hollow and carved out, carrying myself in a shell that resembles parts of you to protect my life that you gave yours to save. I ache and cry with pain alongside your memories which now belong to me.

My requiem for the dead…

I’ll only ever hum the melody for the rest of my days. You possessed me entirely, and took solace in my singing of it. My voice belongs to you, there’s no dued grace Philos deserves to hear. The only departed one I wish to soothe is you.

So let my faint hum quake the lands and seep into the air, be carried on the wings of birds to reach you, my dragon.

My soul, what’s left of it, feels far too heavy now. I hope that maybe in another life, we can live by our own writing and construction. That fate will not constrict us and our eternal binding can take the helm.

The only vengeance to enact is against you, beloved. Because the truth, the truth is that it strangles the air from my lungs to know you didn’t do it out of a cruel ploy to make me live with the aftermath of everything that followed. That you easily could’ve been the final crescendo of my cacophony-akin life and ended it there as I stood with open arms.

I had known for a long while that I never truly wished to hurt you, and I think you knew it even as I threatened you every once in a while. Yet the times where we lost control, it ate away at me and ruined any form of tranquility I could have known. Tranquility that you introduced me to. But, I suppose maybe you saw it fit that I’d be the one to finish our story rather than you.

So, maybe if we are to meet again in another life or a few, the way to settle the score would be for you to try obtaining my love. Make you start from scratch as I dwell by myself without you by my side. There may come a time where your treasures and possessions you lord over pale to what you wish to possess the most- and I pray I get to be there to witness it.

You enabled me to indulge in my greed and desires, but what’s the use of my own collection if you were the treasure I coveted the most? I think, I think it’s best that I stop taking and collecting. If we are to have another chance together, we’ll start our own collection, let them mean something to give them value.

You had lived alone and in pain for 1,677 years. I may wish to have been the one that lost between us and to let you taste my pain and emptiness,- but for you, in spite of it all, I’ll be the one to stay confined to this life that has become my own imprisonment as I wait for you to find me once more.

You understood destruction and read it well, so may you find my words in the ashes and smoke that will become of this letter. I can’t reach you but maybe my messages can as the fire burns this.

Our lives our bound together, our souls merged- our bond is unbreakable. And we’re one in the same; kindred spirits, you and I. So, do whatever it takes to come back to me. No matter the cost.

Find me once more, my dragon.

Forever tied to you,

Your beloved

#lnd #love and deepspace #lads #lnd Sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and Deepspace Sylus x mc #lads sylus x mc #lnd Sylus x mc #love and Deepspace sylus x my mc #lads Sylus x my mc #lnd Sylus x my mc #sylus: abysm sovereign #Sylus spoilers #sylus oneshot #Sylus writing

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