#They'd be absolutely awful as a pair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetteainthesummerx · 5 months ago

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⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

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foldingfittedsheets · 9 months ago

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Hands down one of my worst experiences in high school was when the seniors decided to extort the entire school by using tactics that were banned by the UN to get them to pay for the senior party! If that sounds like a wild sentiment stay tuned because this shit got crazy.

I was living in Arizona at the time and I was a freshman. Our campus was largely open air, with walks between class room buildings and some covered outdoor tables. Our event began with a morning announcement. The seniors were collecting donations for the senior party, and when they reached their goal, their fundraising method would stop.

Their fundraising method:

To pipe the entire schools speakers with "If You're Happy and You Know It" on loop. To this day, I cannot hear this song without experiencing a degree of rage and madness that is frankly alarming. One of the worst parts of the entire thing was that the recording they chose had the female singer do a little clap and say "Yay-ha-hey," at the end. So it wasn't just the song, it was this awful little cooldown stinger at the end.

If this sounds a lot like psychological torture you'd be extremely correct! This practice has been banned in some countries, but the good old US hasn't ruled it a human rights violation, and what a fun silly way to raise money, that definitely wasn't damaging to adolescent psyches!

Every morning for 15 minutes before school began, every passing period, every lunch, and after school for another 15 minutes they blasted that fucking song on unceasing repeat through every speaker in the school. Everyone found different ways of coping with this and mine was to observe my classmates descent into madness and categorize the stages.

The first stage was almost completely consistent, and it was a smug almost exasperated eye rolling phase. Often accompanied by derisive comments about the song or the tactic, this phase was extremely mildly annoyed. Most people figured it would blow over soon, and no one anticipated this continuing for a week and a half, creating a miasma of fraught tension.

The second phase was elevated annoyance, starting to snap and be less amused characterized this level of irritation. People would try to cover their ears or put on headphones, humming aggressively to block out the syrupy repulsive children's performer with her loathsome little clap. This phase had people picking their absolute least favorite part of the song. Her inflection on certain words, her timing between verses. I think it's pretty clear already which part I hated most.

The next phase was a bounce back out to absurdity. It became funny how annoying it was and people would sing along as if to challenge the song's authority over their psyche. This paired exceptionally poorly with people in phase two as they'd often lash out at the people giving more voice to their hell.

The fourth phase was a dead-eyed madness. People would stare straight ahead and their lips would silently mouth the familiar words. The song had pounded its way into their very soul and was inextricably linked to auditory output. They often didn't even realize if they began chanting along.

The fifth and final phase was pure uncut pubescent rage. Kids would scream, attack each other, and in a truly epic end to the event hurl a cafeteria chair with such force at the speaker in the cafeteria to irreparably damage the sound system.

The seniors got funding for a party, but some of it had to go to repair the damages, which were substantial.

#ramblies #funny #ffs foibles #high school #when I transferred back to my home state they tried something similar with the song “Blue”. The teachers were threatening to walk by lunch #I'm honestly astonished that none of the teachers rebelled in arizona? It had to be just as bad for them and it played in classrooms

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its-avalon-08 · 6 months ago

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hi could you write a story about Carlos Sainz x Wife!Reader, where they just had a baby and Lando comes to visit them in the hospital. He is Carlos' and the reader's best friend and he was there throughout the pregnancy. Maybe Carlos and his wife ask him to be the godfather of their child….

thanks

norris are you crying? (cs55, ln4 <3)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader + lando norris (platonic)

✦ genre - just plain ol'fluff

The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt strangely sterile with the miracle cradled in Y/N's arms. A tiny, wrinkled face, a perfect echo of Carlos, slept serenely against her chest. Beside her, Carlos, eyes still puffy with exhaustion, held her hand, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Their daughter, Sofia, had arrived a few hours ago, a whirlwind of emotions and a head full of dark hair, just like her father.

A knock on the door, followed by Lando Norris' boisterous entrance, shattered the quietude. "Alright Sainz, let me see the little legend!" he boomed, his usual mischievous glint dimmed with a touch of awe.

Carlos chuckled, pulling Lando into a tight embrace. "Careful, mate. Still a fragile little thing."

Lando approached Y/N cautiously, peering down at Sofia with a reverence that surprised them both. "Wow," he whispered, his voice thick. "She's perfect."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. Lando had been their rock during the pregnancy, the shoulder to cry on during hormonal meltdowns and the voice of reason when anxieties threatened to drown them. He'd even taken it upon himself to become an expert on all things baby, bombarding them with facts and advice while Carlos, bless his heart, fumbled through assembling cribs and figuring out pacifiers.

"So," Carlos began, bouncing Sofia gently in his arms, "we were thinking..."

Y/N squeezed his hand, already knowing what he was about to say. They'd discussed it before, late at night with the nursery glowing softly beside them.

Lando looked up, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "Spill it, then."

"We were wondering," Y/N continued, her voice catching slightly, "would you do us the incredible honor of being Sofia's godfather?"

Lando's jaw dropped. He blinked, then a grin erupted on his face, brighter than any podium finish. "Are you serious?" he sputtered, his voice thick with emotion. "Of course! I'd be, well, I don't even know what to say. Absolutely!"

He reached out, his finger gently tracing Sofia's cheek. A tear welled up in his eye, quickly brushed away. "I promise to be the best damn godfather she could ever ask for," he declared, his voice firm despite the tremor.

The room erupted in laughter, a mix of relief and joy. With Lando by their side, they knew Sofia would be surrounded by love, laughter, and someone who would teach her the finer points of both go-karting and taking selfies (much to Carlos's future chagrin).

As the sunlight dipped below the horizon, painting the hospital room in a warm glow, Carlos leaned towards Y/N, his eyes twinkling. "Looks like we just made a champion a godfather," he whispered, his voice thick with love.

Y/N smiled, her heart overflowing. Their little family, this perfect trio, was just the beginning of their greatest adventure.

The jubilant atmosphere in the hospital room quieted as Lando pulled out his phone, a sheepish grin on his face. "Gotta share this one with the boys," he explained, dialing a number.

Y/N chuckled, knowing the waterworks wouldn't be far behind. Lando may act like a goofball, but his emotions ran deep, especially for his friends.

As the call connected, a chorus of voices filled the room. "Lando! How's the little one?" came Max's voice, followed by Charles' enthusiastic, "Is she a Ferrari fan already?"

Lando sniffled back a tear, his voice cracking as he replied, "She's... she's perfect. Tiny little human, guys. And guess what?"

There was a beat of confused silence, then Oscar's voice cut through. "Did you manage to convince them to name her after Ricciardo?"

Lando choked back a laugh. "Nah, mate. It's Sofia. But..." He paused, his voice thick. "They asked me to be her godfather."

A stunned silence followed. Then, Max erupted in cheers, Charles followed suit, and even Oscar let out a surprised whoop.

"Lando, that's amazing!" Max yelled, his voice filled with disbelief. "The Godfather Norris! Sounds posh, doesn't it?"

Lando let out a watery sob, a smile splitting his face. "I can't believe it, guys. I'm gonna spoil her rotten, teach her all the best pranks..." his voice trailed off, replaced by more sniffles.

Carlos, who had been pretending to read a magazine, couldn't help but overhear the conversation. A smile tugged at his lips seeing Lando so overcome. He leaned over subtly, catching Y/N's knowing look.

"Seriously, Lando," Charles chimed in, oblivious to the drama unfolding in the room, "don't tell me you're crying already. You haven't even been 10 minutes !"

"It's just... I don't know, man," Lando choked out, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It means a lot."

Carlos cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "Sounds like someone's getting a bit emotional," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Lando whipped around, his face instantly switching to a defensive scoff. "Who, me? Emotional? Absolutely not, mate. Just, uh, clearing my throat. Hay fever, you know?"

Y/N and Carlos burst into laughter. Max, Charles, and Oscar could practically hear Lando's blush through the phone.

Carlos, amusement dancing in his eyes, walked over to Lando and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Alright, alright," he chuckled, ruffling Lando's hair. "We believe you. You're going to be a fantastic godfather, just try not to scare her off with your... unique fashion sense."

Lando, still flustered, punched Carlos playfully on the arm. "Sod off, Sainz. Speaking of fashion, you're the one who wears those atrocious dad sneakers."

Y/N shook her head, a warm smile on her face. These two, with their playful rivalry and unwavering friendship, would make the perfect team for Sofia.

As Lando continued to chat with his friends, his voice regaining its characteristic bravado, Carlos couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. He leaned down and whispered to Y/N, "See? The best godfather a girl could ask for."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes mirroring his sentiment. With Lando by their side, Sofia's life was sure to be filled with laughter, love, and maybe just a touch of healthy competition

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the hospital room. Y/N lay sleeping, cradling their newborn daughter, Sofia, close to her chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of their breaths filled the quiet room with a soothing melody.

Carlos, unable to sleep, sat in the armchair beside the bed, his gaze fixed on the two most important people in his life. He reached out a hand, gently tracing the lines on Y/N's face with his thumb.

"She's incredible, isn't she?" he whispered, not wanting to disturb their sleep.

Lando, perched on the window ledge, turned his head, his voice hushed. "She's perfect, mate. Just like your missus."

Carlos chuckled softly. "She's something else, Lando. You know, throughout this pregnancy, I kept thinking I couldn't love her any more. And then she goes and pulls this off." He gestured towards Y/N and Sofia. "This miracle."

Lando smiled, understanding washing over him. He'd seen firsthand Carlos's unwavering devotion to Y/N. "She's strong, Carlos. Stronger than you give her credit for."

"Stronger than us all, mate," Carlos replied, his voice filled with awe. "She's been glowing these past few months, like an... an angel."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "An angel who craved pickles at three in the morning?"

Carlos laughed, shaking his head fondly. "Even then. No matter what, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And the way she looked at Sofia... pure love, Lando. Pure, unadulterated love."

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes reflecting the soft light. "I never want to lose her, you know? Never want her to stop looking at me like that."

Lando hopped down from the window ledge, placing a hand on Carlos's shoulder. "You won't, mate. You two have something special. A bond stronger than anything."

Carlos let out a shaky breath. "I hope you're right, Lando. I hope you're right."

He leaned closer to Y/N, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "Te amo," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than words can ever say."

As if sensing his presence, Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open. A tired smile graced her lips as she met Carlos's gaze. "Hey there," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

"Hey amor," he replied, his voice filled with adoration. "Just checking on my two favorite girls."

Y/N's eyes flickered to Sofia, then back to Carlos. Her smile widened, a silent testament to the love that filled the room, a love that promised a lifetime of happiness for their little family.

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victorbutnotreally · 6 months ago

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Hello, I was wondering if you could write a reaction ot8 stray kids with a scary looking male reader with tattoos who's taller and stronger than them but is super nice to them.

I wasn't sure what to request, so I hope this is ok🙃

my first time writing on the internet...thank you so much for the request, darling <3 I really hope you like it. (also, i wasn't sure if the reader is a skz member, so I wrote him as one. hope that's okay.)

OT8 REACTION TO INTIMIDATING MALE READER

warnings: slightly suggestive in Lee Know's part.

Bang Chan

He'd be a bit startled at first when being introduced to the new trainee. The guy was tall. The height was the first thing our tiny leader noticed. (M/n)'s tattoos were badass, yes, but that paired with his frame and sharp features was...intimidating. He looked like he could break you in half with those big hands of his. Once he got over the initial surprise, he grew attached. I mean, who wouldn't? (M/n) was an absolute sweetheart. He was quite soft and funny under those muscles. (M/n) was a gentle giant. He'd drag a tired, overworked Chan out of the studio at 3am and carry him like a princess. Once he was added to the group, (M/n) became the official body pillow. Especially to our koala Chan. Scenario

Bang Chan was talking to stay on Chan's Room one day, smiling and giggling at their pickup lines. His eyes landed on one comment which made him giggle a bit more than the others. "Are you mixed? Cuz you're half fine and half mine." He giggled like a little boy and dialed (M/n)'s number. "That's a good one!!" "I have to try it on (M/n)" "Hey hyung, what's up?" "Hey (M/n)....I just wanted to ask you, are you mixed?" "Huh?" "Cuz you're half fine ,half mine." "I'm all yours." (M/n) was one cheeky mf. And that one line was enough to make Chan and STAY go feral.

Lee Minho

He'd definitely be in awe. He'd love to randomly trace the tattoos with his finger and the first time he'd do it would be by poking a rose tattoo on (M/n)'s arm. Once he's comfortable, he'd be using this man like a lamppost to lean on. But at first, he'd be all wide-eyed and trying not to blush when (M/n) raises a brow at him. Would LOVE having (M/n)'s hand on his thigh. Definitely would make comments with a straight face. "You could split me in half like a pistachio." "Those thighs would look really good aroun-" (M/n) raises a brow and he stops. But it's all in good fun. Or is it? Scenario

(M/n) and him were doing that one babysitting show and the kid just looked so enamored by (M/n). He would have his cute wide eyes looking at him in awe and touching the tattoos. (M/n) would smile softly at the kid and put him on his shoulders.

"You'd be a good daddy." Of course, (M/n) knew what was coming. Minho would lean into his ear and whisper. "In more ways than one."

Seo Changbin

This man would look at (M/n) and think "goals." He'd always playfully squeeze (M/n)'s muscles. They'd get along quite easily, I'd say. Gym bros. And (M/n) would be always excited for Dwaekki Gym.

He'd sit there like an excited school kid watching their parent cook their favorite if (M/n)'s in the kitchen. He'd be used to the jokes that are made when they stand next to each other. They even have matching Snoopy and Woodstock t-shirts. I definitely don't need to mention that these two would DEVOUR girlgroup dances. (M/n) would also playfully fight with Wooyoung. "Changbin's mine."

Scenario

At a concert, they were all playing around and a fan holds up a sign with Changbin's picture from the Case 143 MV that says "Can I be your boyfriend?"

Changbin makes an X with his arms and points to (M/n) who had Minho's hand on his butt (nothing new). The fan screams "HE'S CHEATING ON YOUUUUU".

Hwang Hyunjin

Would be a bit blushy at first. He'd probably take some time to warm up to (M/n). But once he's comfortable with (M/n), he'd ask questions. "Did it hurt?" "What's that inspired by?" He'd recommend tattoo ideas as well. "How about a rose and thorns on your hip?"

Definitely would draw (M/n). No doubt about it. Would either draw a simple side profile or draw his beautiful hands. Always holding (M/n)'s hands and would definitely bite his thighs. They'd appear on Studio Choom's Mix & Match together and would be an iconic dance duo. Would watch Kdramas together and (M/n) would poke fun at some stupidities just to get on Hyunjin's nerves.

Scenario (M/n) grinning like an idiot while Hyunjin does body paint on his un-tattooed arm. He leans in and pecks Hyunjin's forehead. Of course, he'd let out a soft laugh seeing that beautiful eye smile of our dumpling. He then shows off the body paint on live.

Han Jisung

Fanboy. Fan. Boy. He loves (M/n)'s tattoos and loves how easily he can pick him up. Jokingly calls him 'bodyguard' and loves to hear him rap. Was a bit flustered by how attentive (M/n) was when he started rambling about something. (M/n) has a habit of babying him because he's a smol bean. Chair? What's that? He only knows (M/n)'s lap. And (M/n) would 100% shield him and glare at people who don't understand privacy at airports. He'd have an arm wrapped around Jisung at all times. Jisung would also fangirl over (M/n)'s photoshoots.

Scenario

(M/n) peacefully spinning around with Changbin at a concert while Han grabs him by the arm and goes, "Jeogiyo...hokshi yeoja chingu isseoyo?" And then (M/n) picks him up and spins him around while laughing that cute laugh of his.

Lee Felix

He was a teeny tiny bit intimidated by (M/n) but the moment (M/n) introduced himself and smiled, Felix knew that the guy was just another cute crackhead like the rest of them. He would love to play video games with (M/n) and (M/n) may or may not have let him win. Both of them would make midnight snacks and have conversations which are either really deep or really high. Also, (M/n) definitely compares hand sizes and coos at Yongbok's tiny hands. Also, (M/n) is a human heater. Definitely perfect for cuddles. Scenario

"Hyunggggggg I made brownieeeessssssss" (M/n) was scrolling and had his rbf on, but his striking gaze immediately softened and lit up once he saw Felix. Felix, who noticed, goes and pinches his cheeks. "Softie." "You know it."

Kim Seungmin

He was a little awkward at first, since he's not used to seeing someone so intimidating. But also because he takes a bit of time to warm up to someone. But one day, when he sees (M/n) reading one of his favorite books and being all giddy, he knew that the big strong man was really a fluff ball. (M/n) and Seungmin would do a lot of lives together and it becomes sort of a series (like Chan's Room) since they match each other's energy really well. (M/n) is also someone baby stays would consider "the normal one" like Seungmin. But boy are they wrong.. Scenario

(M/n) MCing and Seungmin teasing him. "What's your favorite Stray Kids song, MC-hyung?" "Do you like Stray Kids, MC-hyung?"

Yang Jeongin

Would be intimidated. Especially since he was such a smol babie and going through a lot of stress. But one day, (M/n) packs him lunch for school and Jeongin almost cried. He felt so guilty for being scared around (M/n) but (M/n) assured him that it's okay. (M/n) also helped him with school during trainee days. He'd have a fun way of teaching and he wanted Jeongin to at least pass. He helped Jeongin through a lot and would make sure he took care of himself. He's extra soft for our maknae. Would make comebacks at hate comments towards Jeongin. They have a very strong bond. Stay calls (M/n) Jeongin's dad. Scenario

(M/n) coming home after a long day at the studio and just cuddling Jeongin.

#stay kids reaction to intimidating male reader #stray kids #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #lee know x male reader #changbin x male reader #felix x male reader #seungmin x male reader #jeongin x male reader #han jisung x male reader #hyunjin x male reader

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ledder4 · 5 months ago

Text

simon ´ghost´ riley hates you so mutch yet cant keep his hands to himself...~

womenpov

wordcount: 2695

God, he hated y/n

Her annoying, overly high-pitched voice, her bitchy attitude, the idea that she is better than everyone, and her absolutely fucking awful ideas. Once he almost got killed over her stupid fucking attitude.

And of course, he let her know that. "You look like a slut." He'd say, so low no one heard, and he'd grin at how pissed off little missy wissy would complain and whine, only for Price to throw him a glare and nothing else. She really thinks she's all that? Price would never believe her.

Being around her was like being in a storm. But unlike the peaceful type where it soothes children to sleep and holds couples dancing within the raindrops, she was more like a tornado or something. Only brought chaos and disturbance wherever she went. Apparently only for him, though. Soap fucking loved her ass, and so did Gaz. The three would always have something to gossip about. And he seriously wishes he had invested in noise-cancelling headphones, because her voice annoyed the living fuck out of him.

And he swears he tried liking her. When she first joined the Task Force, he treated her like any other human being. But her eye rolls and, what Soap called, side eyes, got on his nerves. Normally, he doesn't specifically hate anyone.

But her smart mouth always had a fucking comeback for everything, didn't it? Whether it be her snicker when he got one wrong shot or a nasty comment about his dead eyes. That dumb fucking mouth would get her in trouble one of these days. And they'd bicker. Like teenagers, at times, and sometimes, like drunk men at pub fights.

Sparring which turned a bit too real, blood and spit mixing into one as she landed nasty fucking punches, and he did the same. He, despite his bleeding nose and his bruised jaw, would always smile when she winced with a breath too deep. He knew her ribs had been at least matching his jaw, and maybe, if he was lucky, he'd get to check if her back hurt too. Her whines about it instantly got a smile to light up his face underneath the balaclava.

And, when the guys were out either on missions or just hangouts, the two of them raged war at each other. Like that time the little shit hid his towel. Little fucker had also once hid his underwear. Not fun. It was hard to find more.

Besides dumb pranks, they also got physical. When they'd talk back a bit too loud, how he'd shove them into the wall and get a punch in return. And sometimes, just sometimes, he'd be sitting, muttering something snarky, and before he knew it, a hand was on his face. A slap. A sharp one. That instead of sending a jolt of anger, sent lust rushing through his veins, redirecting the blood flow straight to his cock. And how she'd choke him, too? Fuck, it got him dizzy. Had him smiling like a stoner underneath the mask as she shook his head back and forth by the neck, yelling about something he couldn't even remember about in his face, and all he could think of was her trying to be this bitchy when he's balls deep in her cunt.

And when the rest of the task came back, they'd always be scolding the two for beating the fuck out of them. Too bad they didn't believe his cheap excuse of her 'falling' and that's how she got a bloody nose and a cut eyebrow. And the blood staining his balaclava? Ah... what a coincidence, eh?

It didn't take a genius to realize that she hated him, and he hated her. It was like saying the sky is blue, or the water is clear. And sometimes, Price came all father-like, trying to get them to make up, but it just wouldn't happen. In fact, it only brought more snickers and snappy attitudes for both of them. Soap, that little fucker, would always say: 'The line between love and hate is thin!', which is unlikely considering that, for them, the line between love and hate is about five miles long.

Call it hatred, call it anger, call it grudges or jealousy, the pair would never get along. No matter how many times they were forced to go on missions together, or how often the two would spar together, no one could make them bond. The only thing that truly made them be together was the anger. The constant fire when his eyes met hers. The eye-rolls. The pure, unfiltered hatred when she would try to pin him down.

Her hands wrapped tightly around his neck and, despite his size, he just couldn't get out of the damn chokehold she had on him. He thrashes and finally ends up giving the side of her skull a blow, blood running down his nose, making her drop to her side as a nasty cut spews out blood. It makes him smile and burst into laughter when her not-so-weak hands try to get him. Disorientated, that's where he's got her. Weak punches and weaker reflexes. Easy as that, he had her pinned underneath him. Blood dripping slowly, mixed with sweat, as he stares down at her. He tugs his balaclava off, and the red liquid now pours on her cheeks while his hair, damp with sweat, sticks to his forehead, and he can only grin, a mouthful of blood when her eyes blow wide and her cheeks taint pink. "Little missy forgot how to speak?" He teases.

"Fuck you" she mutters.

"You wish" he whispers back.

Simon only narrows his eyes before his thumb swipes at the blood running down from her temple. The harsh leather picking up the blood with ease, and his eyes glint when she winces and whimpers, a noise that sends a jolt straight to his cock. Without speaking, he makes sure his thumb is coated with blood before writing a big "R" across her forehead. Riley was here. And when he's about to wipe his thumb off on his jeans, her annoying voice booms, insulting him for all he's worth. So, naturally, he gathers more of her blood and some of his, stares down at her, and pushes his thumb in her mouth.

Her protests dying on the stip of her toungue, lips that not-so-eagerly wrap around his thumb, and a tongue that licks his glove clean make him groan. Her eyes, now fluttering shut, snap open when he pushes his thumb further in. Inspecting her mouth. Feeling her tongue, and testing her gag reflex. "Hm. Now you're quiet. Can't be loud when you're sucking my thumb like a cheap whore, can you?", and her widened eyes tell him everything. Only when she chokes does he pull his thumb out and, with his gloved hand now dripping with her spit, he gives her two easy slaps on her cheek and stands.

She was frozen on the spot, staring up at him with a sort of desperation and hatred he had only seen in movies. Kind of turned him on, if he were to be honest. How her eyes were so big, lips lightly parted as if begging to be pressed against his. But no, what he does instead? His eyes flicker over her body in disgust and he wipes the tip of his boot on her crotch, watching her shiver and buck as he walks away, chuckling to himself.

"Fuck you!" was all he heard before the door slammed shut, and grunts of anger were heard. With the mugest expression and the proudest bleeing nose, he walks away. Price, who stared at him confused, was surprised when all Simon did was smile at him, rather than offer an explanation.

Later that night, in the shower, he watches as blood from the fight runs down his nose and down the drain. Pride swells in his chest, and a wave of lust hits him. How she sounded. How she had whimpered. How she sucked his finger like such a good slut. And before he knew it, he was hard as a rock. Biting down on his bottom lip, he curses himself before fisting his cock. His knees buck underneath him, and his free hand slaps the wall, trying to grasp at it when he pumps his cock once.

His eyes flutter down, and he strokes himself yet again, beads of precum already running down to his fingers. His eyelids set shut when his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he could all but replay her whimpers and ttry to recall the sensation of her hands around his neck. The filthy noise of him pumping his cock filled the air, along with his heavy breathing and the occasional moans leaving his lips.

Her hands around his neck, until he couldn't breathe. His hands on her hips, pulling her down on his cock as she whimpered and begged for more. Her lips messily meeting his as his cock spurted cum inside of her warm, wet, cunt. Her lips parting for him to spit in her mouth. Him smearing his cum all overher face using his cock. Her gargled moans when he fucks her throat like a slut. Her teary eyes when he nibbles at her clit. The sensation of her thighs around his head as he rut himself against the bed, and-

The white-hot sensation of an orgasm crashing through him pulls a loud groan from him, cum spilling from his cock down his abs, and all he could do was watch as water cleans away the filthy images his mind has conjured. Shame filling each corner of his soul, and he washed his hair before forcing himself to sleep despite the images swarming his mind.

And of course he had the luck to land a mission with her not even a week after whatever that had been. As much as he hatesher, he can't lie: he admires her abilities. How, for even just five or six hours where they need to get along, they manage to. Running shoulder by shoulder, ducking shots and him having to drag her along while her leg had been injured. All examples of when they managed to get together and set aside their mutual hatred.

He had been waiting in position as she scurried off to clear the building, and he hated to admit the pit in his gut whenever he heard gunshots, it only letting loose when he heard her high-pitched tone come across the speaker. Clutching his gun to his chest, the task force run to where they should find their main goal: a shit ton of civilians and some assholes who has decided to terrorise them. Soap, who slapped him on the back and flashed him a smile, and Gaz, who bumped his shoulder against his when he had stood still for a bit too long. A bit dissociated, maybe? Who knew.

And after some hours of careful analysis, they had managed: only a couple injured, maybe one or two deaths, and a sucessful mission. His heart felt light, and he let out a shruddery breath when they got to base. Price, who skipped formalties and gave each of the soldiers a tight hug, had also announced: "We're going drinking, people. Let's fucking celebrate, because all of you, and I mean all of you-", he had noticed Price's eyes were on him, "-did a hell of a job. In two hours, does that sound good?"

He didn't want to go. Not only was he tired, but he was pissed off. y/n's snarky comment hadn't missed him: "He even needs validation. Ugh. Reeks daddy issues." She had muttered, and his fists clenched, eyes flickering to hers. She had a glint in them, a sort of defiance he wanted to punch out of her, or fuck, maybe both.

And asthe night progressed, he could only take so much. The alcohol was rising in his head, and so was in hers. Her snarky comments getting louder, and his comebacks matching hers. Her shoves harsher, and his slaps more real. Thank God, he was still sober enough to drag the pair outside to at least leave the rest of the task force alone.

"Won't you shut the fuck up?" He snaps, and her pushing him away was his last straw. "You fucking bitch-" he murmurs, pushing her against the wall. She somehow didn't stop snapping at her, and her mouth was running a bit too fast and too drunk, and before they both knew it, he had his lips on hers. "Won't you shut the fuck up already?" he says against her lips, and her teeth sinking into his lip made his breath stutter, before a deep inhale through his teeth and his hand went around her throat.

"Little bitch. That's all you wanted, eh? To be-" cut off by her tongue shoving into her mouth "to be treated like a whore? Yeah? Wanna be fucked against the wall?"

Somehow, that didn't shut her up, either. Instead, her hands had gone to the back of his neck and tugged at the strings there. He hisses at the pain, andhis his knee shoves itself between her thighs, rubbing at her clit through her clothes. Her mewls make a fire be lit in his eyes, his cock twitching to life. "Hmm. That's what you want, isn't it? Ooh, look at how needy that cunt is... I can feel it through our clothes, you know? This desperate cunt begging to be stuffed?"

That's how they ended up here, her splayed across her lap as his hand came down on her ass, again, and again, and again- "That's it... Hmm.. Count." When she got off track and started babbling, he had to stiffle a moan. "No. Bad whore. Bad." An idea struck his mind, and he pushes her panties aside. "Oh fuck, that pussy is fucking drooling" his voice sweet as honey, fingers plunging deep into her warmth. "Holy shit, you're so fucking tight." He mutters, landing a slap to her clit.

Pushing the whimpering woman down on the bed, his hands push her thighs back as he watches her squirm and try to get away from his hungered gaze. A line of spit dripping from his lips and onto her puffy folds, before he laps at her cunt. His eyes roll back and a moan leaves his lips when she lets out a moan that really didn't match her voice. Her thighs trying to snap shut, calves shivering on either side of his head as her back arches and her hips buck into his face. His forearms go around her waist, and pushes her down, forcing her to stay still and take it. One of his arms go up, and he shoves two fingers in her mouth, smiling against her cunt as she whimpers and her hole clenches. "Shut the fuck up, y/n, can't a man eat?"

As she moans around his fingers, her cunt gushes out against his tongue. He lets her ride out the orgasm against his mouth, and once he's done, he sits up on his knees, tugging her by her calves as she whimpers and complains. "Even after being fucked silly ya can't shut up, eh?" He smiles down at her, and groans when he feels her slick against his cock. He teases it up and down her slit, bumping it into her clit over and over. "Fuck, y/n, you're fucking dripping for me." When she shook her head, he dipped his cock into her folds, only to pull out. He does it over and over, until he's satisfied with her pleas.

Slowly sliding into her, stars grow behind his eyes as he feels her warmth around him. His head tips back, and his hand wraps around her neck, in a grip. Her bulged eyes and throaty moans made him smile. When her mouth opens to try and breathe, he leans down and spits.

"Swallow. Like a good fucking whore, you're going to swallow my spit, won't you?" He murmurs, bottoming out inside her. "Won't you?"

made by ledder4

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #smut

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babyhatesreality · 1 year ago

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OKAY HOW ABOUT A LITTLE ONE THAT LOVES SHARING HER FOOD WITH EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND ESPECIALLY WITH HER DADDIES

Soo maybe a scenario or headcanon where the reader start with sharing her veggies with her daddies but after a while she start sharing food that she likes so when there at the avenger tower and its Lunch time she wanna give petie and the other a bit of her food and wann give her daddies a bit of her favorite food so she grabs a bit and hold it to her daddies mouth 😻

Oh, this is an adorable thought, you cute Nonnie you...

Sharing is Caring

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Bucky had never seen your eyes so wide before. He chuckled softly, thoroughly enjoying your incredulous delight.

"Dat's....for me?" you asked in a hushed tone, completely in awe of something so wondrous.

Bucky had to bite the inside of his cheek from outright laughing. They had found some individual snack packs of mini Chips Ahoy cookies the last time they went grocery shopping, and had packed them as a post-lunch treat today. They'd brought you up to the work floor with them, as it was just boring paperwork today. Knowing how much you loved your cookies, the small bags seemed like a good idea to try. They had no idea you'd react with such reverence.

Your little mind was BLOWN. A whole bunch of little chocolate chip cookies in a pretty blue bag, and all for you??? It was too much. You were overwhelmed with the indescribable majesty of it all.

"Yeah, it's for you, munchkin," Bucky said gleefully, his grin threatening to split his face. "You can have the whole bag since you finished all your fruit." He opened the bag and held it out to you.

You took it as carefully as if it were a Faberge Egg. Bucky had to pretend like he had an itchy nose- using his hand to cover his mouth as your complete and total wonder was so damned cute that it was making him giggle like a schoolgirl. He wondered how long you'd actually be able to keep quiet about this.

He didn't have to wonder for long.

You shrieked with absolute delight, jumped up and down, and then absolutely hurtled yourself at Bucky, who caught you with a laugh. "TANK YOU TANK YOU TANK YOOOOOOOU!" you screamed delightedly, hugging your Daddy as hard as you could. You let him go and popped one cookie into your mouth. It was so little and it was so good and it was the BEST. You looked back into the bag. There were SO MANY in there. You carefully extracted one, and held it up to Bucky. "Here, Daddy!"

Bucky smiled and shook his head. "Those are yours, baby, they're for you."

"But I wanna share!" you said, jumping up and down. "C'mere! Open!!" Laughing at your sweet impatience, Bucky leaned down and opened his mouth as requested. With a squeal of delight, you popped it into his mouth, then surprised him with a quick kiss on the nose. "Tank you!! Chew good!" you shrieked over your shoulder as you tore out of the room, on a mission. You just heard Bucky laugh at your instructions as you skidded into the next room.

"GUYS LOOK!" you shrieked with joy, holding your small bag aloft. Peter, Wanda, and Pietro turned around, curious, but were just as excited as you were when they realized the treasure that you held. You shared one with each of your friends, in turn, before running out of the room and back to Papa's office. You yelled 'hi' to all your friends and family as you ran past them in your delight, and they all knew you well enough to step to the side as you barreled down the hallway to your destination.

Steve sighed patiently. He could hear you blazing your typical path of destruction towards him. He loved your carefree and playful spirit, but was constantly afraid that you were going to get hurt in your exuberance. You flew into his office, looking more wound-up than usual.

"Hi Papa! Guess what??"

"Hi Baby. Whatever it is, it must have been important for you to be running around the floor like that."

"Oh. Oops. Sorry, I forgotted again."

"Yeah, I figured. What's up, pup?"

You giggled at the little rhyme and the resigned but loving look on his face. "Lookit da COOKIES!!!" You made a show of clearly walking- not running- towards him, and he grinned at the strained look on your face as you fought against your natural cheetah instincts. Once you got next to him through, you flung yourself into his lap, scrambling and squirming to pull yourself upright. Steve gave you little assists here and there, and put his arms around you once you got to your destination. "Here, I wanna share with you please!"

"That is so sweet, baby, thank you." He couldn't say anything else as you dug one out of the bag and tapped it against his lips. He made a funny face at you, then started pretending that his lips were glued together. He tilted his head at your, his eyes playfully twinkling. You giggled, then laughed as he teased you by not opening his mouth, and playing like he couldn't. You ended up smashing the cookie flat to his lips and pressing it in, not letting up, screaming with laughter. Finally Steve "pried" his lips apart and let you push the cookie in, then tickled you as you continued to laugh like crazy.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's going on in here?" A deep voice startled you. You stopped laughing, twisting around. "There's not this much happiness allowed on this floor." Nick Fury was standing there with his arms crossed, but you could see a hint of a smile on his face. You hopped off your Papa's lap and skipped around the desk to stand at the Director's feet. Ever since he'd declared you a part of the family, you absolutely LOVED him and always enjoyed a moment to bask in his coolness.

"Hi Mr. Nick!" you said happily, completely unaffected by his tough guy demeanor. "Here, I wanna give you something!" You held up a cookie to him. You might not have been afraid of him, but there was no way that you were going to ask him to open his mouth like your Papa and your Daddy.

Nick took it from your hand with a low chuckle. "Well, thank you, little one. How'd you know I love mini cookies so much?" He looked at you curiously when you got a very, very serious look on your face.

"I am about to blow your mind then," you said, completely solemnly. You held up the cookie bag for him to inspect, inwardly thrilled. You knew that you were about to change Nick Fury's life forever with your little blue packaged miracle.

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky x little reader

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bloody-cupcakes · 6 months ago

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Yandere reader x JD (from heathers) who stalks follows him everywhere, regardless of whether he knows or not <3

I went a little overboard when writing this but I honestly love the idea of yandere reader x JD so much that I've very tempted to continue this/turn it into its own series

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, stalking, obsessive behavior from the reader, perv behavior from the reader, the reader breaks into JD's house, obviously JD is a tad bit crazy but believe me when I say the reader's much worse

JD was the greatest guy in the world, and the best person for you. You knew ever since you first laid eyes on him that he was the one, regardless of whether he was aware of it or not.

He noticed you, sure, but didn't really think twice about you until you introduced yourself and started going out of your way to spend time with him. For some reason, you seemed to already know an awful lot about his life, despite him not telling you anything.

Little did he know that you'd been sneaking around before, during, and after school, stealing his school files and bribing some of the detention kids so they'd teach you how to break into places without getting caught. JD was smart, but he wasn't as smart as you.

He wasn't as devoted, either, because you'd been in his house. You'd seen his room. You knew he didn't have a shrine dedicated to you the same way you did to him, with his leftover cigarette butts and thrown away slushie cups and the occasional stolen lighter.

Being in his house made you feel absolutely feral. The second you were there you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself up in the sheets of his bed and never, ever leave. But you knew you had to restrain yourself, so you settled for stealing a pair of his boxers instead (what? It's not like he'd miss them).

You started following him, too, in the morning on the way to school and in the afternoon once it was over. Now that it's possible he was aware of, judging from the smirk of amusement he had on his face whenever he heard a rustle coming from somewhere near him that he was certain was from you.

When the chance came for you to finally go out with him for real, you took it, overjoyed that he'd finally gotten to the point of seeing you as someone who was a significant individual in his life. It meant you were officially his, and he was officially yours.

Even after that, you couldn't find it in yourself to stop following him. I mean, you cared about him so much, you know? And sure, you knew he could take care of himself, but what if he couldn't? What if he really needed you one day, and you weren't there?

Thoughts like that kept you up at night. If something ever happened to him because you weren't there to intervene, you would never be able to forgive yourself. It only made sense to keep following after him, wherever he might head to.

Don't get it twisted. You weren't some lost, pathetic little puppy dog, desperate for approval (okay, fine, you were, but not in this context). You were a guard dog built to attack anything that you perceived to be a threat, regardless of how strong or weak you were.

And if JD knew? Well, it's not like he could do anything to stop you, not that he'd want that. It was nice to finally have someone to follow after him for once, instead of the other way around. Though he still found it strange that you were somehow aware of his love for explosives when he never once brought it up, but that must've just been some kind of a coincidence.

After all, he always made sure to keep his eye on you whenever you went over, so you'd only have been able to snoop if you'd been inside his house unsupervised, and he was pretty sure that never happened. (Although he did find the fact that he was missing a pair of boxers to be quite odd, but surely the two weren't somehow related. I mean, that'd just be crazy.)

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elizabethsnuts · 5 months ago

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can we get a flasback of winterwidow before their daughter was born?? Like all the preparations and stuff :D

Preparations

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky are getting ready for your arrival by finishing the important tasks.

———

Natasha sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor of the nursery, she was looking around the room and reviewing it. She and Bucky had spent weeks making it perfect for you, even if you were going to be sleeping in their room for the first few months of your life.

Bucky entered the room, carrying a large cardboard box labelled "Baby Clothes." He set it down gently on the floor, then straightened up, putting his hands on his hips. "Alright, Nat. Ready to sort through these?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Natasha turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely. There’s a lot of stuff in here."

Bucky joined Natasha on the floor, opening the box and pulling out tiny, adorable outfits. There were onesies in every colour imaginable, soft little hats, and even a pair of teeny tiny socks.

They started with the clothes, sorting them by size and type. Natasha held up a tiny onesie, grinning at how small it was. "Can you believe she's going to be this tiny?"

Bucky took the onesie from her, holding it up to his chest. "No, I really can't. It's so crazy."

Natasha picked up another piece of clothing and held it up, it was a frilly pink dress, and her expression was filled with warmth.

“This is so so cute! I cannot believe she's going to be wearing this soon." she said, her voice tinged with awe.

Bucky chuckled, reaching over to take the dress from her. "The time is going too quickly, I swear."

They continued sorting through the clothes, carefully folding each piece and placing it in the dresser drawers. As they worked, they talked about their hopes and dreams for you, the kind of parents they wanted to be, and all the adventures they would have together.

Natasha picked up another piece of clothing and raised her eyebrow in amusement. “A suit? Really? Who gave us this?”

Bucky laughed and fixed the tie attached to it. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say Tony. He wants her to be Ms Billionaire Baby.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and chucked it in the drawer. “I’m honestly not surprised one bit.”

Next on the list was assembling the crib. The pieces were spread out across the floor, along with a rather intimidating set of instructions. Bucky picked up the manual, flipping through the pages with a furrowed brow.

"This doesn't look too bad," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Natasha laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "Come on, we've faced worse than this. We can handle a crib."

They set to work, Bucky handling the more complex parts while Natasha read the instructions and handed him tools.

"Careful with that screw," she warned. "We don't want it to be loose."

Bucky glanced at her, a smirk on his face. "I've got this, Nat. You just relax."

She rolled her eyes but leaned back, watching him work. There was something incredibly satisfying about seeing Bucky so focused and determined. It reminded her of the countless missions they'd been on together, except this time, the mission was creating a safe and loving home for you.

After a bit of effort and a few playful arguments, the crib was finally complete. Bucky stood back, admiring their handiwork. "Not too bad, huh?"

Natasha nodded and smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “I’d say you did pretty good! Now, can you do a stroller?”

Bucky shrugged and gestured to the crib. “I did that, how hard could it be?”

The stroller was in fact quite difficult. The crib was more of a breeze than the stroller which proved to be more of a challenge. It came with a manual that seemed to be written in an alien language. Bucky unfolded the various parts, scratching his head. "Who knew a stroller could be so complicated?"

Natasha took the manual, squinting at the tiny print. "I think we need to attach these wheels first."

They fumbled through the assembly, laughing at every wrong screw and backward piece. At one point, Bucky tried to fit a piece where it clearly didn't belong, and Natasha couldn't help but tease him. "Super soldier, huh? Can't even build a stroller."

Bucky feigned indignation. "Hey, I'm doing my best here!"

Eventually, they managed to put the stroller together. Natasha gave it a little push, watching it roll smoothly across the floor. "We did it."

They took turns pushing it around the living room, laughing at the absurdity of pushing an empty stroller. Bucky even tried fitting one of the cats inside, but he promptly jumped out and hid under the couch.

"Guess we'll stick to just the baby," Bucky said, grinning.

Next, they tackled the baby shower gifts. They had received an overwhelming number of items from friends and family, each one wrapped in colourful paper and adorned with ribbons. Natasha unwrapped a gift and pulled out a plush octopus that lit up and played music.

"What is this even for?" she asked, holding it up and pressing the button to make it glow.

"No idea," Bucky said, laughing. "But it might keep her entertained for a few minutes. Or scare her. One of the two."

They continued opening gifts, finding a mix of practical items and more… interesting ones. There were adorable blankets, diapers, and baby bottles, but also things like a baby food processor that neither of them knew how to use and a set of tiny sunglasses.

"These are ridiculous," Natasha said, holding up the sunglasses and putting them on her nose. "Do you think she'll actually wear these?"

Bucky chuckled loudly. "She might, but she definitely won't keep them on for long. Babies aren't exactly known for their fashion compliance."

As they sorted through the gifts, they made a pile of things they thought they'd use often and another pile of the more questionable items. Bucky picked up a baby hammock and shook his head. "Who even thought this was a good idea? It looks like a miniature torture device."

Natasha laughed so hard she had to hold her belly. "Well, we can always re-gift it. Maybe someone else will find it useful."

By the time they finished, the nursery was organised and clean, and both of them were exhausted but happy. Bucky looked around and then at Natasha, who was resting on the rocking chair with her feet up.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Bucky whispered, placing his hand on Natasha’s bump, feeling the soft kicks of your tiny feet inside.

“Me too… we still have to get her car seat ready though.” Natasha giggled and rubbed the bottom of her stomach.

Bucky groaned and chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “We’ll do that later! We did so much today.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, thinking about the future and how you would soon join their family. The preparations were almost complete, but the real deal was just beginning.

#daughter!reader #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #winterwidow #buckynat #winterwidow x daughter!reader #buckynat x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x baby!reader #natasha romanoff x baby!reader #mcu fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #fluff

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coffeeghoulie · 7 months ago

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Mushy May Day 18: Holding Hands

Aeon and Swiss cannot get enough of each other.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers! <3

It's the first kind skin on skin contact Aeon's ever had. They fall in line with Cirrus and Swiss at the end of every Ritual, lacing their fingers with theirs as they take their bows.

It's not like they hadn't been touched Up Top before. There have been gentle hands on shoulders and at the small of their back, over clothes but still so kind and so gentle. After what Aeon's been through, it's intoxicating. Aeon, a little skittish still, so used to being alone and unsafe, drinks in every moment of contact they can get.

They squeeze Cirrus and Swiss's hands in front of the screaming crowds, and the skin to skin feels like fire. The first time Aeon experienced it, they'd keened at the feeling of Swiss's hand absolutely engulfing theirs, and their hands aren't exactly small.

It's cold when they part, making their way backstage to change and head back to the bus, just to do it again the next night. As exhausting as touring is, Aeon's not looking forward to the cold when it ends, when they think that the excuse for skin to skin stops.

But it doesn't stop. They fall in with Swiss as the tour progresses, thoroughly enamored with the multi ghoul. He's touchy on the best of days, and some days he's downright clingy. Aeon spends most of their days now absolutely drunk on affection. There is no shortage of Swiss's touch, especially as they spend night after night in their shared hearth, Aeon's own room going empty and bare.

They get knowing looks from the other ghouls. Aether and Dew are the worst offenders.

"Yeah, yeah, yap it up," Swiss teases the two of them as he's snuggled up to Aeon on one of the common room couches. "I'm sure if I asked Zeph or Frit, they'd tell me you two fuckers could not keep your hands off of each other when you got together. Cut us some slack."

Aether laughs, leaning over the back of the couch to run his hand over his locs. "Oh, they'll tell you all sorts of stories."

Aeon chuffs, turning in Swiss's arms like a cat. "Aeth," they whine, playing it up as they blink up at the older quintessence ghoul. "I was alone in the Pit, lemme have this."

Aether sighs, smiling, and moves his hand to card through Aeon's two-toned hair. They preen, still cat-like, as they press into the touch. "I know, pup. Swiss isn't wrong, though. Me and Dewey were no different."

Swiss laughs, and Aeon feels his chest buzz with it from how close they are to each other. "He's a clingy little bastard, bug. Tries so hard to be tough and mean, but he's as touchy as you are," he whispers into the shell of their ear.

"I know," Aeon says. "Shared a bunk with him just as many times as I did you. Aeth knows, we talked a bunch."

"Mhm," Aether hums, still carding through their hair, leaning over the back of the couch. "I'm just saying, the two of you remind me a lot of how things used to be. How they started, where they might go."

Swiss reaches up and pats Aether's hand. "Aw, big guy, you're so sweet."

He cracks a smile, gold fang glinting. "Enjoy your cuddling. I'll leave you to it."

Eventually they get up, having dinner and a movie night with the pack before the ten of them head their separate ways, breaking into their pairs and small groups. Aeon tucks themself against Swiss's side without hesitation.

Aeon's sleep is peaceful, dreams that sort of blur together instead of the vivid, too intense nightmares that plagued them for the first few months of their life Up Top. They still come, sometimes, but fewer and farther between now that they don't sleep alone.

But they wake in the darkness. They can't feel Swiss pressed against them, he must have gotten up or they must have rolled away from each other in the night. Aeon's not sure why they've woken up until they hear heavy, uneven breathing coming from somewhere beside them.

There's a padding, rustling sheets, and the breathing gets more and more uneven, the thumping faster and more frantic, getting closer to them. Aeon reaches out, tries to guess where the next pat will be.

The breathing hitches, and a big hand wraps vice-like around their own. Aeon threads their fingers together, and Swiss pulls them hard into his chest, still breathing heavy as he buries his face in their hair, his other arm secure around their back.

"Hey," Aeon whispers, muffled into his chest. "'M right here."

He laughs quietly, hitching on something wet. "Sorry, buggy, I, uh, you know how it goes, bad dream."

Aeon squeezes his hand tighter, so hard the bones in their hand start to hurt. "'M here, Swiss," they whisper again. "'M not goin' anywhere. Promise 'm not going anywhere. I wanna help."

"This is helping." He noses at their hair, pressing a kiss between their horns, squeezing their hand back with a soft chuckle. "Thank you, buggy."

"After everything you've done for me?" Aeon murmurs, listening to the frantic beat of his heart start to slow. "Any time."

#me? writing sappy swiss/aeon? more likely than you think #dot's writing #mushy may 2024 #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #swiss/aeon #phantom ghoul

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greyspirehollow · 7 months ago

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Unhinged

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x Reader (kind of ; if you imagine you're the one who made the gift) Fandom : The Arcana visual novel Warnings : Gore. Hannibal style. ; graphic ; blood, guts, the whole package if you will.

Summary : One day, unassuming, Valdemar enters their dungeons, only to find one morbid gift sprawled out for them.

It had been a rather... Unfulfilling day. Nothing had happened at the Palace, aside from the usual courtier shenanigans, which they had grown accustomed to by now. Almost. They still couldn't understand how they had never found Consul Valerius passed out drunk anywhere ever, with how often he drank. They'd never seen him without his glass of wine. Hour after hour, they longed to go back to their office, to their dungeons, their sanctuary, with the silence occasionally broken by the discreet skittering of the red beetles down the little well at the back... But they had to sit through all the trivial matters of Countess Nadia until the evening. They couldn't understand why, but today it was especially awful. In the sense that it was boring. They had almost forgotten what being bored was, and today had been a rather painful reminder.

It is not before actual sunset that they were set free. They hurried back to the library before anyone could catch them and ask literally anything ; they couldn't handle it. They opened the secret passage, rapidly walked down the dark corridors, turned on the elevator, went inside, went down, closed the metal door behind them, reached for the dungeon's door and- Ah... Finally. They pulled down their mask and sharply inhaled the rusty air, a smile creeping up on their face as their eyes closed solemnly. They exhaled, satisfied, before stretching and walking towards the working area. But something stopped them in their tracks. An unfamiliar scent in the air... No, actually it wasn't unfamiliar. It simply shouldn't be there. Blood. Fresh blood. The warm scent of someone's insides... They knew that scent very well. But this time it was stronger, hitting their nostrils in an almost violent manner ; because they were pretty sure it wasn't their doing. It meant that someone had come to the dungeons...

They tensed up, going absolutely still and quiet, listening to their environment... Nothing. The usual quietness, although it felt stifling in the current context. They slowly reached into the pocket of their apron, getting a hold of a spare scalpel as they slowly walked towards where the foul scent originated from. They made sure to keep their steps as quiet as they could manage, and once they were about to turn the corner, they briefly paused, still as a statue, to make sure the coast truly was clear : no footsteps. No breathing. No shuffling. Nothing. Only then did they dare step forward... And their eyes widened.

There, suspended mid-air, in a crucified pose, was a corpse. Presumably not one of their own, it looked much too fresh. But it was clear it had been worked on : it was open, the skin around the torso having been carefully cut and folded around the corpse's waist in a sort of ragged skirt of flesh that stopped above knee-level. The ribs were on full display, but strangely enough, all the internal organs had been removed except for the heart, dark red and bloody, which had been placed right at the center of the corpse, hanging by what looked like thread tied to the ribs. Slightly tilted, the victim's face looked downwards, their eyes having been stitched shut. One or two loose strands of hair stuck to their cheek, presumably because of all the blood that had been splattered. It was everywhere. dripping from the corpse, onto the floor... Yet by the looks of it, it must've been at least two hours since this... what even was it? Certainly not an experiment. It was thought out. Exposed. Staged... This... This was closer to a piece of art than anything else.

A spark of excitement coursed through their spine as their chest warmed up with adrenaline. Valdemar couldn't tear their gaze away. Their jaw hung slack as their red eyes scanned over every inch of the corpse. Took the liberty to examine it up close. They almost didn't want to touch it. They felt as if they mustn't. The Quaestor examined the eye stitches, the way the heart was floating within the corpse, how well the ribs had been exposed, and couldn't help but be utterly fascinated. This had obviously not been done with a scientific goal in mind, no, it was much too... It wasn't butchery. It was different. Whoever did this wanted to convey a message. But what? And why...?

They observed the corpse for... Gods, they didn't know. They'd totally forgotten about the whole day, or even their own experiments : this was a mystery to solve. This was new. This was exciting. They observed the thing from various angles : they'd lie down on the bloody floor, go around it, observe it upside down, up close, far away, and they noticed even the operation tables had been moved in a half circle ; a detail that had flown over their head at the beginning. As they laid onto one of them, observing the corpse from their favorite angle yet, they started to think... What was the message behind this? Did the position of the corpse mean anything? This crucified pose? Maybe it was meant to bring a sense of "holiness" and importance to the whole piece, make it symbolic, make it spectacular... Or simply add an artistic touch? Maybe. All those options were plausible. The heart was obviously a key part ; otherwise the other organs wouldn't have been removed (if the goal was to make something shocking and gory). What could it symbolize? Life? Love? Probably. But what about the eyes stitched shut? Unable to see. Blindness. Oblivious. Forced to not see? Blinded by something ? That made sense. Now why would all these elements be put together...?

Valdemar felt their heart pick up in pace as the gears turned in their head and finally click, locking together perfectly : "Loves makes me blind..." they muttered to themselves, unable to stop the grin from spreading onto their face "...Blind to your atrocities". Oh, they absolutely HAD to find out who had decided to confess to them like this. They jumped from the table they had been laying on for a while now, looking at the body up-close once more. "Splendid..." They whispered. How original... Exposing your feelings with such brutality and delicacy at the same time ; going out of your way to put meaning into what was most likely a gruesome murder, taking someone's life only to convey your sentiments through their carcass... This was exhilarating. The work of a true artist. They must find them. They must.

Their grin never faltered as they rushed out of the dungeons, into the Palace, determined to sneak into every single bedroom until they found the author of that beautiful gift...

#the arcana #the arcana game #quaestor valdemar #the arcana courtiers #the arcana visual novel #valdemar x reader #quaestor valdemar x reader #the arcana valdemar #valdemar #fanfic #tw gore #tw graphic #tw murder #tw blood #thriller (sorta)#I am no Bryan Fuller I'm sorry it's not as good as it was in my head :'(#i'll fix it later

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jamesdeniscouldnever · 1 year ago

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Yay! I'm absolutely enthralled by this series, so the inspiration just keeps flowing. Same as the rolan fic Zevlor's hurt/comfort won. I love him. These two made me realize I love teiflings. Gonna scream. This takes place if you failed to save him in act two but its a little AU in the sense that you save him before Orin can...ya know.

The Guardian's Guardian

Summary: Caught in Orin's sordid little web, Zevlor finds himself on the receiving end of some less than pleasant treatment. Hes sure he deserves it for being an oathbreaker and abandoning his fellow tieflings. So why, amongst the pain and torture he endures , does he find his mind seeking comfort that he doesn't deserve in the memory of a friend?

Zevlor couldn't begin to find the words to explain his terror. He was certain he'd simply be turned into an absolute cultist after Ketharic had taken him, nothing special and no one of note. But no. Instead, when Thorm had been killed and the injured Tav had been making their way out of the belly of the beast, they had missed him. At least, he liked to think they missed him. Surely they wouldn't have left him there if they'd known...would they?

He'd been at peace with the idea of dying there, but all that had shattered when a terrifying woman with pale skin that swirled in strange patterns had appeared. She'd smiled so cruelty when she saw him. She had said only one word.

"Perfect." And that was all it took. She'd opened the pod, grabbed him, and in a swirl of ash, they were someplace else. Someplace dark and damp and reeking of blood.

That was almost a week ago. How he'd survived so long he wasn't sure, he'd been on the receiving end of numerous beatings, tortures, and even a flaying since then. He winces to himself as the memory of his own raw nearly-skinned flesh on his left leg causes it to flare in pain once more. Certainly, some God must be keeping him alive for their amusment. Or for his own punishment.

If he'd just fought the absolute harder, he wouldn't be in this mess. His people would be safe. Tav may have had more help in slaying Ketharic.

Tav.

He closes his eyes, feeling the cold stone of the cell floor against his back, and allows himself to think of them. He doesn't deserve the comfort their memory brings. He doesn't deserve to fantasize about them bursting through the door and rescuing him. He doesn't deserve to be worried about them. Certainly they were okay. Far far away from this cultish temple to a filthy God. Far away from him.

That thought brings him more comfort than he was expecting. The idea that they were somewhere safe beyond Orin's reach makes him exhale a breath of quiet relief. A relief he had no right to feel. They weren't his.

He'd been in love with them, no doubt, since the Grove. Their kindness, their leadership, the diffusion of tension among the refugees, and their willingness to help. Help teiflings, no less. A notable trait since the fall of Elturel.

If anyone had been around, he'd have scolded himself for the small smile he allows to creep onto his lips as he thinks of them, their smile, their eyes. It's enough to make him ignore the pain the action brings by reopening the scab on his split lip.

He feels his eyes growing heavy, the tension of pain outweighed by his outright exhaustion. He's almost able to slip into a much needed sleep. Almost.

But the comfort is cut short by the sounds of shouting somewhere above him. It must be loud to traverse the stone of his prison. Perhaps someone had displeased Orin. Perhaps she was making another sacrifice to her awful parentage. Maybe Zevlor would be next.

He doesn't open his eyes. Let them come take him. Let his suffering be over. Let his punishment finally be complete.

But even as the screams and yells die down, they do not come. Even as the whole of the caverns fall silent, they do not come. No, what comes is a frantic voice and the sound of several pairs of boots scraping against the dirt and stones. He is certain now - he has, in fact, died. Died and, through some measure of mercy from the same gods who ignored him, been allowed to see them again.

"Zevlor, please! Where are you? Please, Gods, tell me we weren't too late!" The panic in their voice is enough to rouse him. There shouldn't be such pain after death, such a heartbreaking cry. Unless this is his personal Hell. No, this is not real. He won't play their games anymore. He doesn't respond.

"Zevlor! Gods dammit all! Please! Please answer me!" Tav's voice cries again, closer now. The sounds of clanging doors and cells being ripped open follows them. He sighs in content. Even with such pain laden in it, their voice is like a symphony to him now. A soothing balm to caress his soul. He only wishes it was singing one of the lullabies they'd taught the children or telling one of their stories. But this would do.

The world begins to fade around him, finally letting him go. From deep within his swimming hearing, he hears a cell being yanked open. A desperate cry that sounds as if someone is in pain. A word repeated over and over. He strains as much as he cans to listen-

"-vlor! Zevlor. Please, Zev, please!" A desperate cry. He feels hands on his chest, his neck, then moving to his face. He flinches despite himself, and he hears what sounds like a sob. He tries to open his eyes. Tries to tell the visage of his beloved Tav not to cry, that it will all be over soon, but he can't control his tongue nor his eyes. It's as if they're both turned to rock inside his skull.

The last thing he hears before darkness pulls him down is a fractured sentence.

"Karlah- arry him plea- ave to get out of here!"

After that is dark. He's not sure for how long. He's not sure if he was conscious during it all or not. All he's aware of now is warmth that the cells of the cult of Bhaal had been devoid of.

A crackling sound. A fire. He tries to move his hands, move any part of himself. He's able to feel the twitch of his tail and something soft pressing against his fingertips. A bedroll?

No. A bed. A real bed. The soft dip of mattress under him tells him this. Where in the 9 hells is he?

He struggles his eyes open, the light that meets them a little garish compared to the dark of his previous surroundings. However, they adjust after a moment, and he blinks several times. He's in a room, lavishly decorated, warm, large. He turns his hand and sees several beds, all just as large and soft as his own lining the walls. Curtains hang from the doorway, having been pulled down, presumably for his privacy. He hears voices speaking soft beyong them.

He tries to speak but finds his throat hoarse and painful. He tries to sit up instead but groans out loud in pain as he moves his left leg. Right. Basically skinned alive. But looking down, he notices it's been bandaged, the scent of yarrow and other medicinal herbs wafting from around him.

His yelp seems to have been heard as footsteps rapidly approach the curtains, and a pair of hands yank them apart, a face appearing between them. Tav.

Their eyes are wide, set in both fear and relief, their bottom lip quivers slightly before they swallow and quickly close the space between the curtains and his bed. They don't hesitate to drop to their knees beside him, taking one of his clawed hands in theirs.

"Zev! Oh gods, have mercy, you're awake! You're awake. You're safe. I'm here." Their voice seems to flit through the stages of grief, then relief, then gentle happiness. He doesn't reply, just stares at them with wide eyes of his own.

They simply hold his hand tight and keep repeating the same words to him. As if they're an incantation that will heal his battered body. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."

His eyes flit to the curtains, and he sees faces peaking through. Tav's companions. They watch with varying degrees of pity, joy, amusement, or disgust. His looks back to Tav and tries to speak, but only a croak replies. Tav's eyes widen, and they're reaching for the pitcher of water beside the bed before he can even grasp at their hand as it leaves his. They pour a glass and hold it to his lips for him, their other hand cradling the back of his neck as they urge him to drink. He does, and before he even realizes it, he's drained the glass. They pour him another, but he only sips at this one before he finally speaks.

"It's you. You came for me...why? Why would you do that? Why would you put yourself and your friends in danger for me? You could've been hurt! You could have been killed!" Its not until Tav places their hands on his cheeks and hums soothingly that he realizes his voice had been growing in volume. One hand remains on his cheek, and the other moves to stroke through his hair, passing across the bases of his horns. He can't keep himself from sighing and curling in on himself at their touch. Tears blur his vision, and he let's them fall. He's so relieved. Not for himself but for them.

"Zevlor, of course I came for you. I would never have left anyone to Orin's torture, but least of all you. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." They hushed. His tears continued, and wrecked sobs finally burst forth from his throat.

"But why!? I don't deserve your kindness, your sacrifice, and care! I-I gave in to the absolute! I left my people to die! I broke my oaths, I left innocent children helpess, and now I put you all in danger. I'm a murderer." Zevlor wails. He deserved to die there. He shouldn't be here, he should be a body laying in the pits of Avernus left to-

"Zevlor!" Their voice cuts through again. They're gently pulling his hands away from his arms, where scratches and traces blood are now forming. He'd been hurting himself and hadn't even realized it. "Stop. Zev, your people are safe. I got them out of moonrise, and I returned them to their families. There were a few losses but...I did what I could. Arabella's parents... but that doesn't matter. It isn't your fault. The absolutes hold on people is almost unbreakable, but you did it. You broke it. You aren't a murderer. You're a victim. Please don't hurt yourself over this, I can't bear to see it. I love you too much for it."

Their words are so earnest and spoken with such certainty that he almost misses the end part. His gaze whips up to meet theirs, and he almost cries anew at the look in their eyes. He buries his face in their chest and breakdown down once more. They hold him close and gently rock back and forth with the. They rub his back and stroke his hair and whisper words of encouragement and kindness to him. He takes a deep breath and pulls back from them. He pulls his head back and whimpers.

"I love you. I've loved you since that day in the Grove that you saved Arabella from Kagha. Since you showed Geux how to defend himself or kept Lia and her brothers together. I must have annoyed the others with how much I talked about you after we left there. But I couldn't help myself. You're perfect. You're goodness incarnate. I love you. I need you." His voice sounds foreign to himself. Desperate and teary and full of fear. But that's just the effect Tav has on him. He can be weak in front of them. He can be vulnerable.

Lips press against his before he can even look up again. He let's his eyes slip shut, and he sighs into it, allowing himself to melt into the safety of them. There's no heat behind it. No heavy breaths or searching hands. Just chaste, gentle and caring love. Safety.

They pull away before he's ready but place another kiss against his forehead. They sit on the bed beside him and pull his head against their chest. They whisper sweet nothings to him, promises of care and safety.

"I'm here, you're safe. All is well, everything is going to be okay. I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe." They hum into his hair.

He feels something stir within himself, and he makes a decision then and there. He may have broken his oaths, but he's making a new one to himself. Tav, the guardian of the world, the bringer of peace and safety. He's going to protect them with his life. He'll be there for any fight, any pain, any troubles. For the rest of their lives. He will be there. A gaurdian's gaurdian. And this oath, he will not break. No matter what.

#bg3 #baulders gate 3 #bg3 zevlor #bg3 spoilers #zevlor #tav x zevlor #zevlor x tav #zevlor/tav #tav/zevlor

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fairlyang · 11 months ago

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Ghostie III 🕷️

the beginning of miguel's obsession with you, he plays with you, & normal couple things

w/c: 3.8K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of murder, SA, dark web, blood, stalking. Instantly obsessed, jerks off, grinding, slight dry humping, marking kink, oral (f!receiving), exhibitionism mention, unprotected sex (don't do that), breakfast in bed, slight fluff, grocery shopping together, fluff (for funsies)

part one ~ part two

Miguel didn't exactly plan on going on a killing spree if anything he was trying hard not to, but some people pushed him over the edge and he was slowly losing his sanity.

He'd been a savior for a few women in the past, he once walked around the streets late at night when he heard yelling coming from an alleyway and he ran to go help. Some drunk men were groping and sexually assaulting a young woman.

He luckily was able to help her and after a good two months he got enough information about them, making sure they'd never do it again.

After he killed those three men, he told himself that'd be it. There was no evidence that'd lead the cops to him. Everything went perfectly and his new become friend, Grace, was relieved that those men won't be bothering other women but not knowing he was the one that killed them.

He told her she can sleep peacefully now and that she'd be safe. He kept telling himself that was it, that he wouldn't cover his hands in blood again.

That was until he noticed just how many awful and terrible people were freely roaming around the streets of his neighborhood, the absolute worst of the worst.

So after the first time, two weeks passed, he had found information on tons of people and had a strict day to day schedule on who he'd kill each day, what time, where, and how. He didn't think he'd get so invested on making sure to put an end to all these fucked up people.

It's like he couldn't help but want to take down all the shitty people he'd find out about. He'd go on the dark web and find different chat rooms where people would talk anonymously about the bad people in their life.

It took him a while to find people letting out their frustrations and concerns that were near him. He somehow ended up stumbling across sites for the movie series 'Scream', he found out it had a lot of crazed fans talking about how they'd be Ghostface and how or who they'd kill.

People went on in graphic detail and he was shocked he hadn't stumbled across it before. Some of the things were more calm, some saying how they wish they could be a victim like Sidney or some saying they've had dreams of being like Billy or Stu.

He wasn't a big of a fan like some fanatics out of there but he did appreciate the attention to detail in the movies and especially loved the intro scenes with the first girls. Just that alone had given him the idea to use the ghostface mask when he first started.

But some were unlike others, yours specifically stood out to him as you wrote about how badly you wanted to be used and played with by a Ghostface killer. He was drawn to the way you worded your biggest fantasy, the way you went into such specific detail of how you wanted everything to be done, what you'd do, how you'd seduce him...

Wanting to read more about this intriguing scream obsessed fan he went on to your page and found dozens of confessions. He couldn't contain his excitement and spent hours reading them all carefully and even reread his favorites.

He was slowly growing obsessed with this stranger not able to help the way his cock twitched under his sweatpants reading your posts, and quickly searched for your IP address, needing to know more about you, where you live, what you looked like.

He groaned when he saw you were using a VPN but found a post where he ultimately was able to find your address in a few seconds. He searched it up on google and felt so happy when he saw that you only lived fifteen minutes away from him.

He forgot all about his schedule of the next week and focused on a new plan, a new plan on how to find you on a day to day basis. He needed to know everything about you, where you studied, who were your friends, family, where you worked, if you had a boyfriend....

That last thought alone was enough to anger him and he groaned, fists clenching. Oh how fast he'd take care of it if you did have one.

He quickly found your socials including a twitter account and a public instagram. He went to your insta first, eyes immediately widening and his head falls back against the sofa cushion. He puts a hand on his bulge, lightly stroking it, his teeth lightly tugging on his bottom lip as he admired how pretty you are.

He knew he'd be attracted to you no matter what, but you being just his type was insane. It's like he was meant to find you.

He looked through all the posts you had up, only four but they all had multiple pictures which was very helpful for him and his hard cock. He clicks on a bikini post and immediately groans, zooming in on the picture looking at the sultry look you posed as well as how perfect your tits looked, and how pretty you looked on your knees, your thighs looking so fucking perfect.

That was the first time he came looking at your pictures, it wasn't the last time either. He'd stroke his cock looking at all your pictures more than he'd like to admit.

He ended up doing some more investigating on you and found you went to the nearby community college with a few of your friends.

And on the boyfriend aspect he was happy to find out through your tweets that you were recently single after a two and a half year relationship with a dickhead that cheated on you with more than one woman.

The fact that he would cheat on you was mind blowing to him and Miguel was already thinking of the ways he wanted to hurt him but it not being his first thought. His first thought was needing to see you in person.

He didn't know how, maybe look at you from afar at a grocery store? Maybe peep outside your bedroom window? Follow you around for a day? No, you're a scream fan surely you'd figure out you were being watched....

He sighed and tried to think of any possible excuse he could go see you that wouldn't make you suspect him of anything. He decided to go with the grocery store plan, but now needing to know when you go, he wrote down your address and thought of maybe watching over you for a bit, just to learn your schedule and know when's the exact day or time you go buy your groceries.

He felt himself become insane in a whole different manner, now instead of wanting to kill, he wanted to protect and obsess over a complete stranger he practically fell in love with at first accidental sighting.

He was already beginning to think of how he could make your biggest fantasies come true, he was already ready to make you the happiest girl possible.

I heard a knock on my window which made me jump but as soon as I saw just a glimpse of the familiar mask I couldn't hide the grin that appeared on my face.

I quickly got up from my bed and ran to the window then unlock it. I swing it open and step aside waiting for my new favorite visitor to come in.

"Y'know you don't exactly have to put on the mask when you come over anymore." I tease as he climbs in.

He stands in front of me and takes the mask off and shows off a wide grin, "well what would be fun in that?"

I shrug and give him a grin back, "maybe to not scare the shit out of my mom if she ever catches you...."

He scoffs and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him as I wrap mine behind his neck, "wouldn't be the craziest thing in the world considering you have a scream shrine." He teases making me scoff.

"It's not a shrine-"

"Nena, half of your room looks like it belongs in those chatrooms you're in." he teased once again making me glare at him. (Sweetheart)

"You can't say shit about that though since you were on them too!" I said in defense but he just laughs and pressed my body against his, bringing me in for a hug.

"And good on me for finding them otherwise I would've never found my favorite girl." He says making my heart melt.

I move my arms and wrap them around his waist as I listen to his heart beat slightly racing. Crazy, mines doing the exact same.

"I was thinking what if we recreated my grand reveal?" He murmurs making me laugh.

"What miss that day so bad?" I tease and he chuckles.

"Maybe... let's not forget Ryan spoiled my original plan." He replies and I gasp.

I pull away from him and look up, "what was your original idea?"

He laughs and walks over to my bed plopping down before patting the spot next to him which I happily comply to and jump onto my bed then sit next to him.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head against his chest. "Alright so I'll start off by saying I simply couldn't wait to see you so I purposely went to the diner so you could see me-"

"And thus it technically wasn't Ryan's fault.... In other words, you ruined your own reveal." I say and look up at him as he looks down and rolls his eyes at me.

"Alright fine, maybe I ruined my own reveal but how was I suppose to know he would find me-"

"Well you found me easily.... He found you in a couple minutes by just using face recognition..." I say trying to fight off my laughter.

"Anyway. You, I think were on your back, and I was under your bed waiting for the perfect moment to pop out. I was going to climb on top of you and have my knife against your throat." He admits making me hum.

It is incredibly sad how fast that turned me on.

"I was then going to grind myself against you and remind you of the dirty things you were doing for me the night before." He whispers softly and I nod, putting a hand on his chest and laying my cheek against it.

"I just wanted to see your reaction, the look in your eyes, and hear the first words you would've said to me." He says and traces along my arm softly while his hand moved strands of hair out of my flushed face.

"I knew you'd get excited right away since you specifically said you wanted to be manhandled and thrown around like a rag doll." He murmurs as his hand trails along my jawline gently.

"Wanted you to feel how hard you had me, how I was already wrapped around your little finger before we even officially met." He purrs sending a shiver down my spine and makes me subconsciously squeeze my thighs together.

I felt my breathing getting heavier and I just knew he was taking notice or more like he was doing this on purpose to get a reaction out of me. But I didn't mind.

And he was already starting to read me like a book, which I also didn't mind.

My thoughts get cut off when I feel Miguel slip his hand down my thighs, lightly squeezing the right one then the left before he just rubbed circles against my skin.

"You're so fucking pretty." He whispers and leaves a kiss on my forehead.

He's truly the sweetest.

"Y toda mía." he says and brings his hand back up to cup my jaw, before leaning in and leaving a peck on my lips. (And all mine)

I peck his lips back and he just smiles then leans his forehead against mine. "Toda mía verdad mami?" He asks and I nod. (All mine right)

"Nomas tuya." I confirm and climb onto his lap, his hands already found their to my hips, pressing me down against him. (Only yours)

I bite my lip and move my hips against him, slowly grinding on him. He lays his head back onto the pillow and watches, along with helping me move.

He then decides to let me go which has me pouting for a solid second before he grabbed my hands and intertwined our fingers. The butterflies in my stomach were going insane and my face was burning hot.

How someone could change my life in under two months even though we met through the drastic way ever, was truly beyond my understanding.

Even if we met in "normal circumstances" I still felt like we'd have this strong bond, we had a lot in common and our personalities matched perfectly.

Maybe what one might call soulmates or just the phrase "meant to be" but I was so ecstatic nonetheless.

I then am knocked back into reality when Miguel flips us over and he's now on top of me. I smile and he gives me one right back before bringing his hand down to kiss my neck but soon enough just leaving some new marks.

I sigh and tilt my head back while I bring my fingers up to play with his hair. I felt my eyes flutter as he left new love marks all over my neck to replace the ones that were already fading.

One of his hands went down and started toying with the hem of my shirt but then brought it up my stomach and left it there. He pulled away from my neck and started bringing himself down between my legs.

I spread them wide enough for him to fit when he leaves the softest of kisses on my inner thighs making them shake in anticipation. He then wrapped his arms around my thighs, squeezing the skin as he started to gently suck on my inner thigh.

He's grown to love leaving marks anywhere he can, where people can see them, where only he can, the places he loved the most. He used any excuse under the moon to claim me as his.

Which again I didn't mind, as long as I was able to do the same.

Especially after I connected the dots that my best friends were drooling along with me for the same man, but I was the one that was living rent free in his head.

But still I almost felt like jealous of other women just looking at him, I couldn't bare the thought of other thirsty people like my friends looking at him like how we looked at him.

Them doing it is fine, none of us knew he was my secret ghostface, they still didn't know because i didn't have the guts to admit I fucked our town's killer. But hey he stopped just for me so that's the good news in that.

All they knew was I was getting treated really good in all aspects and that's all they had to know. Plus the so called love bites all over my body prove it.

He pulls away from my thighs and drops down, quickly taking my little thong off and throws it behind us. He settled between my legs and spreads them more before diving straight in.

I moan and immediately grip on to his hair, bring him as close as possible to my pussy. He looks directly into my eyes as he sucks on my clit, one of my weaknesses.

I very quickly learned what I loved the most when Miguel would have his way with me. The first being how vocal he would be, how fast his mood changes, the eye contact, and how down he was to try new things.

Just last week he fucked me in a forest wearing his ghostface attire, was probably the hottest thing we had tried next to when he made me sit in that shed we had in the backyard and watch him jerk off in my room.

He wanted me to see the torture he was in for months while I only had to do it for an hour, I couldn't stand it. He looked so fucking good and those moans on that specific day keep me up at night by how perfect they were.

"Miguel-" I moan and wrap my legs around his head, in a way trapping him there.

He moaned against my pussy making me whimper and tug on his curls harder. "Just like that baby- fuck! always making me feel so good." I cry out and buck my hips forward needing even more.

He wraps his arms around my thighs as he laps his tongue against my folds then teases my hole with the tip of his tongue. "Amor por favor- te necesito tanto." I whine and pout making him give me a wink. (Love please- I need you so bad)

I whimper and try to buck my hips forward but he holds me down, "fuck-"

I then see him buck his hips up and pull his sweatpants down along with his boxers. I smiled then quickly moaned at the sight once he started to grind against the mattress. Holy fuck-

"Mmm Miguel~ no pares por favor-" I moan and close my eyes, laying my head onto my plush pillow as he continues devouring my pussy. (don’t stop please)

I feel my orgasm build up in my abdomen as he continues thrusting himself onto the mattress. Him doing that was leaving me an even bigger mess. Can he get anymore perfect?

Suddenly he pulls out making me spill out whiny little pleads as he lifted himself up and climbed on top of me. He lifted my legs up and spread them wide before pressing them back.

He gave me a look and I immediately took hold of my legs as he was teasing my poor hole with the tip of his already hard cock. "Miguel no juegues conmigo- te necesito tanto por favor ya-" (don't play with me- I need you so much please go-)

And he slammed into me without another word. We both moan as he let me adjust for a solid second before pulling back and slamming right back into me again. "Fuck!!"

"Pobrecita, me necesitabas tanto mami?" He grunts and I nod, letting out whimpers as grips onto my legs to help him pound into me. (Poor girl you needed me so badly?)

"Siempre te necesito-" I mutter and give him a smile before he starts going faster, thrusting his hips into me. (I always need you-)

He groans and starts pounding into me leaving me a whimpering mess as I tried my hardest to keep quiet. But as always he didn't care and always wanted me to be heard. So everyone knew who I belonged to.

"No te calles ahora nena-" he moans out and rolls his eyes back, "Mmm quiero que tus vecinos nunca se olviden a quien perteneces." he groans making me clench against him. (Don't shut up now baby girl- I want your neighbors to never forget who you belong to)

"Oh fuck!! Miguel- mmm Miguel soy toda tuya-" I cried out and felt my legs begin to shake. (I'm all yours)

"Yes you fucking are." He murmurs and fucks me deeper but slows down.

I then feel my orgasm nearing with every thrust, and I cried out for him, "Miguel! I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me pretty girl- be my perfect girl and cum for me." He moans and with one final deep thrust I felt him fill me up as my orgasm hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was on the verge of tears as my legs violently shook and I was completely breathless. Holy shit-

He was breathing heavily as he went down to kiss the back of my leg. I whimpered and clenched against him making him sigh. He then helped me bring my legs down and then slowly pulled out of me.

All his cum leaked out and dripped down to my asshole but I wasn't really thinking about that. He laid down next to me and wrapped his arms around me gently. I melted into his touch and closed my eyes, letting him embrace me as my breathing calmed down.

"Love and adore you more and more every day my perfect girl." Was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to the spot next to me empty, it always made me sad how he usually slipped out when I fall asleep because he didn't want to get caught by either of my parents leaving in the morning.

But then I hear footsteps coming closer to my room and I wipe my eyes before letting out a yawn as my door opened.

In comes Miguel with a tray of food and I gasp, a smile forming on my face as he grins and walks over to your side of the bed. "You stayed." I say and grin up at him as he sets up the legs of the tray on each side of my legs.

"How could I not?" He says and pecks my lips softly before taking a seat by my legs.

He grabs a strawberry from the bowl and plops it into his mouth before picking up another and brings it to my mouth. I open my mouth and gladly take it, savoring it's sweetness before cutting up a piece of the mini waffles he made. "You're the best boyfriend ever yknow?"

He grins and shrugs, "only for you mami, now until forever."

My heart melts and I stare at him lovingly as I take the first bite of the waffles. "Forever." I say and grab his hand making him intertwine our fingers together.

"Tráeme un paquete de chorizo y queso fresco porfis!" I tell Miguel as I pick up some fresh veggies and he just nods, was about to head off when he looks over at a cucumber and nudges me. (Bring me a pack of chorizo and fresh cheese please)

"Me dio una idea....." he whispers into my ear and I just scoff and slap his shoulder playfully. (I just got an idea....)

"No empieces con tus tonterías aquí de todos lados." I whisper fast and stuff some bell peppers into a bag. (Do not start with your dumb shit here of all places)

"Porque?" He whined making me roll my eyes. (Why?)

"Ya sabes porque. Estamos en la calle..." I say and he smirks. (You know why. We're in public...)

"Eso no dijiste la última semana.." he says and I gasp, slapping his arm and glaring at him. (That's not what you said last week..)

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #Miguel o hara #miguel o #ghostie

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gwiyeounsonyeon · 7 months ago

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Growing Pains (MWC Day 7!)

Pairing: RE2 Leon Kennedy x Male Reader Summary: College AU! Your life kind of sucks but at least you have your job. Words: 1,693/200 Warnings: Nothing Happens! Not Edited! Notes: So far this first part is just me world-building and getting the feel of everything. Im hoping to turn this into a series, this is also an apology for the joke of a "fic" I left you with yesterday. Im on some new ADHD meds so I hope it's going to keep getting easier to be motivated. I actually enjoyed writing this.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You were really starting to doubt walking to work was a good idea, It had stopped sprinkling outside and had turned into a full-on downpour. Earlier at home you’d reasoned with yourself that walking to work was a great idea and that the roads were probably icy from all of the rain you’d gotten yesterday. Yet, here you were; nearly soaked and not even halfway to the coffee shop you worked at.

Your shoes were starting to squelch and your socks were drenched, you just prayed that today would be slow so you could leave early and sleep. But If you did you’d probably feel bad leaving your co-worker, Claire, she was a good kid, pretty and sweet and really good with the customers. If she was working, everyone knew they'd be getting good tips, she was only a few years younger than you, and a freshman in the same college you attended.

She always seemed happy and well-rested when she came in so you assumed she never had a ton of schoolwork. You finally arrive fully soaked to the bone and shivering, the lights inside are already on so you assumed Claire had gotten there first, how she’d gotten a key you really have no idea. The shop was small, located conveniently only a block or two from campus but you'd long since moved out of the dorms and into your own apartment.

You probably wouldn't say your entire freshman year was awful but your dorm mate had been a lively Spaniard going by the name Luis. The man was funny and helpful but he would have been way more funny and helpful if he had been dormmates with someone else. He’d made your entire freshman year seem like one constant headache, his incessant yapping, smoking, and partying had been the candles atop the cake of stress that was your first year of college.

When he asked if you wanted to room together your second year, you’d lied and said you already had an apartment lined up. He caught you in that lie, and when you were rushing to get an apartment (and a job) he had ‘accidentally’ dropped a flier for a one-bathroom studio a few blocks from campus, he’d ‘coincidentally’ been neighbors too. You look back in the direction you came from dreading when Luis wakes up and would eventually wander into the shop.

For some unknown (most likely paranormal) reason, Clair actually liked Luis, not having been subjected to his torture for a year, she said she found him weirdly charming and funny and they got along surprisingly well. Naturally, with their big-mouthed extrovertedness, they told each other absolutely everything, meaning Luis would have some choice words to say about your predicament later.

You huff and walk inside, already feeling a migraine coming on, your shoes track in water as you squelch into the back room. Claire looks up from her locker alarmed at the ungodly noises your shoes were making; it was a mix of wet rubber souls on the glossy linoleum and the sloshing of your shoes holding more water than the ocean. She takes in your appearance, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she tries unsuccessfully to hide a laugh.

She gives you the dignity of hiding behind her locker door to cough out a short poorly disguised chuckle before composing herself and looking back up at you “The hell happened to you?” She squawks still trying to hold in a laugh. You can't really blame her and you dont, if the roles were switched you know you'd laugh at her too. “I walked.” it’s all you have to say for her to break into an unflattering cackle,

She laughs and points as you flop onto a plastic chair to peel off your water-logged shoes, you pour the water out in the filthy mop bucket while making a promise to yourself to get new water in there before your shift is over. You get up to drop your sad wet shoes over the vent and then peel off your drenched socks, dumping them onto the vent next to your shoes with a gross slap.

For some reason Claire seems to find all of this incredibly funny, she’s leaned back dramatically against the lockers clutching her belly as she howls with laughter. You look over at her wholly unamused and sigh before padding over to the lockers, thankfully the workplace is prone to messes so you always keep a spare uniform at work. You pull the folded clothes out of your locker and fetch a pair of crocks from your manager's locker,

Your manager, Jill, was a well-respected (and feared) hard-working woman. She’d been the manager for nearly as long as she’d worked at the shop, her great work ethic and no-nonsense attitude had gotten her noticed by a lot of people in higher positions. When you were hired at the shop she was finishing up her junior year and getting ready to transition into a senior, she was a lot easier to talk to and get along with,

Because of that the two of you clicked quickly and ended up with a lot of hours together. As time went on though, the two of you were getting more and more stressed, and dogpiled with work until you were both working fewer hours with different people. She still tried to keep in contact; always texting to ask you how your morning was or what you were up to, it was sweet and it made you happy when she texted, part of you was enjoying the feeling of having someone dote on you like this.

Your phone alarm chimes, reminding you that you only have a few minutes left until the store has to open, you can hear Claire leaving the break room to tidy up the eating area and wipe down the tables and counters. You quickly slip on a dry pair of socks and Jill’s crocks before making your way to the front of the shop to unlock the store and turn the open sign on, opening wasn't your favorite,

But recently you’d been pulling all-nighters to get your work done so by the time you needed to get into work you were already awake, you worked in a coffee shop so you had everything you needed to keep yourself up for the day. Your routine is as natural as breathing at this point, blending the hours into one, you have no idea that it’s already lunchtime until the lunch regulars start pouring in.

The sweet old Marine Biology professor is first to come in, she’s well over sixty but she acts like she’s still young, ordering a single shot of expresso heavy on milk and sugar, a tuna sandwich, and a cookie. She’s definitely your favorite regular, polite, and tips well, she always leaves with a bright smile on her face like she’s happy to be alive, it's infectious. The other regulars aren't all that notable, a few professors and students needing a pick-me-up to get through the rest of the day.

The only other customer that sticks out is another student, he’s about Claire’s age, and by the way they act around each other, they're definitely friends. Claire always waits to take her break when he comes in, she gets the same sandwich and always pays for his cookie, if you weren't any smarter you'd think they were dating but you notice the way his eyes linger in your direction,

You’ve picked up how he always comes in when you’re working. He’s helplessly obvious but you dont have the heart to confront him, he's always got this cute lost puppy look on his face when you take his order, helplessly stumbling out his words and blushing like a high school girl. You pretend you dont notice and play dumb every time Claire tries to play matchmaker purely because it's cute watching him fumble, and you’ve never claimed you’re not selfish.

Part of you wants to wait until he grows the balls to come up and confess but the other part is just content to watch him suffer like this forever- “I thought you left in different clothes, what happened to your sweater?” You’re pulled out of your thoughts by satan himself, Luis picks at your new shirt and pouts like a dejected child, “None of your business.” You brush his hand off,

Not surprised he knew what you were wearing earlier, you tap the screen of the register having memorized his order; the same boring coffee with the same boring bagel. You can't help yourself, you try to keep quiet but you like teasing Luis back, he deserves it, “Keep eating carbs like this and you’ll get fat.” You’re not trying to be an asshole and he knows it but it doesn't stop Luis from acting like it was a personal attack. He feigns heartbreak as dramatically as he can,

Catching the attention and stares of the other customers, you can tell Luis is about to double down but Claire swoops in and drags him off to her table along with his food. Most of the customers go back to their food but a few eyes linger between you and Luis, you roll your eyes and get back to work, not really, there's nothing much for you to do anymore, the lunch rush slows everything down, you look down at the time on your phone making sure your shift is nearly over before you disappear into the break room to refill the mop bucket and check on your clothes.

Your clothes are sort of moist and have a weird rain smell, your socks have dried weird and your shoes should be ruined, but you dont really have the money to get a new pair. Hearing your other co-worker arrive you tuck Jill’s shoes back into her locker and put your shoes back on, you cringe as the squelch and water seeps out of the foam and into your socks, you shuffle awkwardly back to the front and clock out before hurrying out of the shop, not sparing anyone left in there a goodbye.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

ADDITIONAL NOTES! //skip this if you dont care//

Let me know if you like this new format(?) its a lot more low effort than anything I've tried in the past, just coloring some things and putting little text dividers.

ALSO, Let me know if you want me to continue writing gender-neutral or just not being gender specific, I find writing from this perspective to be super easy but so far it's been pretty difficult incorporating gendered things into this style (not that I've tried)

you can either comment, ask, or dm, its up to you

#x male reader #x reader #college au #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #claire redfield #luis serra #jill valentine #leon kennedy x male reader #re 2 leon #re 2 leon x male reader #leon x male reader #leon s kennedy x male reader #leon scott kennedy x male reader #resident evil x male reader

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multi-fandom-lunatic · 4 months ago

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its time. KAM HEADCANONS

Keefe and tam totally started dating but like. no one knew. they thought that they were best friends or already dating (linh is the only who falls into the latter)

Keefe tries to mess with tams hair. he's in awe about it. like, what does that mf put in it. and why's it so stiff-

They totally wear each other's iconic colours. keefe wears silver jewelley, belts, accessories even if it doesnt fully suit him, and tam just has ice blue stuff on him. im talking. pins and badges, stickers and a pair of earrings.

Keefe is such a swiftie. not up for debate. he just is.

Keefe is bi, and i mean the most useless bisexual ever. he finger guns at everyone. he makes bi jokes. he has frog EVERYTHING. everyone is his type and he is everyones type,

tam is gay and ace. he's totally cool with keefe's flirty/dirty jokes because tam knows and consents to them.

They are the most. physically affectionate people ever. especially keefe with tam. im thinking. the classic boyfriend hug (i like to call it the partner hug), squeezing tam way too tight hugs, lifting tam up hugs. as well as kisses everywhere. like you could map out where keefe has kissed tam and its a whole adventure.

keefe and tam totally have a matching sweater and pj set. its something totally obnoxious and they love it.

THEY. HAVE. HAIRCARE. NIGHTS. these two shits totally exchange hair products and keefe is like "what even is this" and tam is all "this would take like give hours" "beauty takes time." "and money i see"

as for surnames, i cant imagine them taking their parents. especially tam. if at all, they'd both have sencen. but i feel they'd come up with their own surnames. maybe "sensong" or even "samsung" without knowing about the brand (sophie makes fun of them)

sophie was the first to accept them. shes been around humans and understands how hard coming out is because of her highschool classmates (there was 100% gay kids in her class). the rest of them are confused and are like "whats gay" but they support their friend (and learn a bit about them too.........)

sophie 100% takes them both to the forbidden cities after they come out. to buy pride pins. keefe is absolutely enamoured by them and tam is more worried about the environment.

on this fateful trip, keefe learns about different human aesthetics. and it becomes his everything. one day a vsco girl. one day emo. one day barbiecore.

keefe uses the word coquette frequently without knowing what it means. like hed just point and say "thats coquette" and its a crushed soda can.

tam eventually tells him about coquette. does not stop keefe.

tam and keefe are not picky eaters. these two mfs will guzzle anything down

but sophie and fitz are, so when they visit, they just eat mallowmelt. just. mallowment.

kam, fedex, linhella and jenstina. sosingle and marusingle.

cassius didnt know about kam until their wedding day. and boy that was DRAMA

when kam wanted to get married, they went to the council, half of whom freaked out and half of whom applauded. it was a lot of battle, but eventually, a year later, the definition of marriage was changed in the law.

so obviously these two made headlines for being like. the first gay marriage in the lost cities. and lo and behold, cassius finds out.

hes so against it, but he doesnt show it to people in public. ofc, keefe got an angry imparter call from him that he laughed off.

quan however. oh dude was raging. he tried to call tam but BLOCKED.

then fedex and linhella got married and everyone was wth. did the human kid just bring the gay with her?? and not be gay herself??

anywho, on the topic of marriage. keefe totally proposed.

keefe was sick of waiting for tam to propose and caved and bought a ring. it was silver with a blue stone in it in the shape of a kite.

keefe brought tam to a cliff and proposed to him there (saying that if tam said no, its alright bcuz he could jump off)

tam was competely pink and told keefe to "shut the fuck up" and pulled out a ring. BECAUSE TAM WAS PLANNING TO PROPOSE (at a later date)

okay im sucked dry of HCs. lmk if yall have any

#kotlc #kotlc thoughts #kotlc fandom #books #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #gay #shipping #queer #kam kotlc #tam song #dex diznee #fedex #marellinh #fitz kotlc #kotlc fitz #kotlc keefe #kotlc tam #kotlc fanart

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 2 years ago

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It All Comes To Light

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: uhhh general angst- Hydra trauma & forced terminated pregnancy

Genre: angst & fluff

Summary: When Steve learns another detail of your traumas from Hydra you end up telling Bucky one of your most well-kept secrets

***

Your eyes snap up at the slap of a manila folder on your desk where you're sketching. Steve is leaning against the wall by your door with his arms folded.

"What's with the folder?" You ask him with a confused frown.

"I knew you were taken by Hydra but you didn't tell me about this. Why not?" He asks. You let out a sigh as you flip it open. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were going to read in that folder. You went through a lot when Hydra kidnapped you and it's not a time you like to remember.

"H-how did you get this?" You ask him.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Steven,howdid you find this information? I'm serious."

"My last recon mission." He tells you.

"You had a recon mission at a Hydra base?"

"Well I wasn't sure if that's what it was but we found a bunch of their files there. This included. Tony was sorting them and when he saw your name he figured you'd feel more comfortable with me reading it."

"I would feel more comfortable reading it my damn self." You huff.

"I know but Tony thought that less biased eyes would be better in case there's some information we need."

"So now that you haven't found anything useful you figured you'd confront me about unshared trauma?"

"I haven't talked to Tony about the folder. And I won't. I just- we talked about what happened during your time at Hydra why, why didn't you tell me aboutthis?"

"Because Steven it was traumatic! I don't like to think about it. Everything about that time was awful but this? This was another level of cruelty to me. I love you but you can't expect me to share every detail of my time there. Has Bucky? He has nightmares still, does he tell you what happens in them? Do you expect him to? That is your best friend and Iknowhe doesn't recount his horrors in specificity. He doesn't share them all with me and that's a trauma we have in common. Why would I have told you about this?"

"Wait does Bucky know?" Steve asks.

"Absolutely not. Why would I tell him?" You shake your head.

"Why not? I think this concerns him."

"Not really. At the time I was forbidden from telling him. I mean they hardly even let me see him after that happened. Even if I could tell him it's not like they'd let him remember and it's been so long. We're different people now and we're in a good place. Both individually and together. I don't- I don't think there's any reason to tell him about any of it. I went through it, it almost broke me, and eventually, I healed. It took a long time but it happened before y'all found me. I don't think that's a wound I need to reopen just to share it with Bucky. He wasn't with me, he couldn't be and I think making him aware of that would hurt him more than he needs." You shrug.

"Y/n- I'm sorry you went through that and that you had to do it alone." Steve sighs.

"It's fine Stevie it's over. But- you haveto keep it to yourself. If you've gotta give the file back to Tony do it but Bucky doesn't need to know any of that. Can you respect my decision?" You stand up and hand the folder back to Steve.

"Of course, and I'll make sure Tony knows as well."

"Thank you." You mutter.

"I just- I have one last question."

"Ask away."

"I don't understand why they never told Bucky or why they forbid you from telling him. Even after it happened."

"It made me a distraction to Bucky. They made sure I- I wasn't a problem anymore it's why he barely remembers me from that time." You mutter.

"A distraction? To Bucky?" Steve frowns.

"Look I-" you stop yourself when you realize Bucky is walking into your room and Steve practically freezes when he turns around to look at you.

"What's this about you being a distraction?" Bucky frowns.

"Steve and I were just- talking about-"

"You being a distraction I heard. Have I ever made you feel like a distraction?" Bucky asks.

"No. Not you. It was- he had a question about something Hydra related."

"I'm confused why would Hydra have anything to do with you being a 'distraction'?"

"I wasalwaysa distraction for their precious Winter Soldier. It's why you don't remember much about our time together. They made sure to take care of any possibility of that." You muse.

"Y/n." Steve looks at you with a conflicted expression.

"You're being evasive on purpose aren't you?" Bucky's eyes dart between you and Steve.

"Tell him y/n." Steve sighs.

"Steve!" You glare at him.

"He deserves to know."

"You agreed to respect my decision."

"Yeah but now he's asking about it just- tell him."

"Hi yeah I'm still in the room." Bucky crosses his arms. "Y/n, what is he talking about?" He asks you and you sigh.

"I was pregnant and I never told you because Hydra made sure there was nothing to tell." You don't look at either of them as you talk.

"You were pregnant?" Bucky whispers.

"Yeah."

"And Steve, you told him?"

"Steve found outtoday because of a file found during a mission and asked me about it. I told him not to tell you because it was a long time ago and it's not something I like to rehash. The distraction thing is- about why you never knew."

"It was my kid?" Bucky's brows knit together when he asks.

"Of course it was. They separated us because of it. You couldn't know and they couldn't let it happen again. It's part of why your memories of me are so vague."

"When you say they made sure there was nothing to tell-"

"They terminated the pregnancy." You say.

"Y/n-" Bucky breathes out your name with sadness in his eyes.

"It was for the best in the end." You shrug.

"For the best? They took our child away from you and you think that was for the best?" Bucky is incredulous.

"Did you forget how they treated us? Kept us in cages? You were there Bucky. How could a child be expected to endure that? Be realistic here we would not have had that child even if I gave birth to them. I'd have the kid and the moment they can walk those monsters would take them. He'd learn to shoot before he could count to one hundred. And as soon as they think he's old enough they'd start testing and there are only two ways that would've gone. The child turns out like you, or like me. So they keep them; a miracle, the Winter Solider can be genetically replicated through reproduction. Now, on top of all the other horrible shit they did to us, we're turned into breeding cows because the successful genetic mutation of one child means they'd now start trying to find what parts of your DNA and what parts mine make the best fucking super baby. They'd probably move the kid too, who at this point has spent so many years in this lab without us that they don't even know their parents. Or they move us, either way, we never see them or each other again. And the alternative; the kid's not like either of us. They have no use for a regular kid, so they throw them to the fucking wolves we still never see that child again. You and I both know we could not protect a child in that environment so yeah, I think it's for the best that they did not force me to bring a child into a world where neither of their parents could protect them." Your voice is loud by the end of your rant. It's a story you've walked through a hundred times before. Having Hydra end your pregnancy was hard, but you know it would be much harder to have a baby in that place knowing what it's like to be there.

"Y/n-" Bucky's voice is soft.

"Maybe it's cold to rationalize it this way but it's the only way I survived all the hell they put me through and I willnotfeel bad about it."

"You shouldn't feel bad." He tells you. "You're right, I mean- you usually are. I guess I just, you've had all the time in the world to think about it. I'm only just processing all of this information right now. I didn't even know I could have kids." He frowns.

"Neither did I. They caught it so quick, before I even knew it was happening." You shake your head. Bucky wraps his arms around you in a tight hug that has tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry you've been carrying this alone." Bucky says.

"Y/n- I'm really sorry for forcing you to go back down that road. You have our support. Always. I shouldn't have asked. It's- not my business." Steve mutters.

"It's fine Steve, you're my friend. It's not unreasonable that you'd ask about it." You sigh.

"No one likes reliving their trauma, but nothing that happened to you there will ever make anyone here love you less. Okay?" Bucky looks at you.

"I know."

Sometimes it's hard to deal with, what happened to you there was beyond imaginable but it's part of your story. You can't erase it even if you lock it away in the recesses of your mind and while you'll never say you're okay with that trauma, you know without it you wouldn't be where you are now. It was the worst time of your life but you came out the other side to something better than you ever thought you'd get.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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