#and I don’t know if it’s the original or
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kinda touched on this in cold iron bound tbh, where from what little we see in canon the characters have a happy sex life (she gets off on his power aura, sex is the only thing she isn’t whining about in book 8 and they’re very cuddly there, there’s no IC reason they wouldn’t*) but like
there is no way on earth he’s domming her
all right I will accept she might drive him into angry-vampire-glowy-eyes-and-inhuman-vigour mode here and there but Christ, kid was a depressed virgin with acute anxiety, he froze up in terror from a one-second kiss, she’d have reduced him to quivering jelly with a single touch and found it adorable lmao. Maybe in time but when we first see them? Nah.
the fics a few weeks in so Alex no longer bluescreens from being kissed and pretty much has the basics down, but isn’t fully confident yet (and Cassie’s rather a dork too, who is better at vampire RPing than her actual vampire boyfriend but whose plastic fangs unfortunately won’t stay in place)
*(he might be slightly traumatised from getting aroused by killing and eating that one guy in a fit of bloodlust but it doesn’t appear to get in the way of him being attracted to her so worst case he just cries afterwards here and there lol)
i think one thing that will really invariably get me to click out of a fic immediately, if i even get as far as opening it in the first place, is He Would Not Fucking Say That’s hornier cousin “he would not fucking fuck that hard or that prolifically”. like when regardless of canon personality a character enters the bedroom and immediately becomes this almost christian grey parody ultra suave dom with dubious bdsm practices and it’s like. i’m very sorry but i truly hand on heart do not think he knows how to use his dick like that
#I do have a wip of them immediately after book 7 ends which is very cute and mutually happy but also like…#has them talking past each other about protection#and an almost-panic attack#and her being like ‘don’t worry I know you’re new to this’ and him going#‘Oh okay - wait when did I tell you I was a - OH GOD IS IT THAT OBVIOUS’#and her being slightly scared about meeting human beauty standards#kind of going for the book’s original flavour#everything is a tongue in cheek mess but together they do great in the end
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I LOVE BAD BITCHES THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ PROBLEM! ၄၃ satosugu x female reader
18+ content, minors or blank blogs don't interact. unestablished relationship, roommate arrangement. bisexual! satosugu, top! suguru + switch! satoru. threesome. humiliation, degradation, dirty talk. m. masturbation. exhibitionism, slight voyeurism. fingering. orgasm control + denial. finger sucking. sloppy makeouts + three at once. oral (f. recieving) + squirting, clit/pussy slapping. riding. double penetration. face sitting. overstimulation. prostate stimulation. accidental love confession during the heat of it all. weirdly happy ending? - rl's established
thank you so much for 1OOO followers you lil freaks divas. this took so much time to write lol, i hope you all see the vision. this work was inspired by this smut audio by augustinthewinter. the link takes you to a re-upload on spotify [for easier listening], and sadly not the audio posted by the original creator. do your part and please support him and his work here <3
— masterlist here ☆
you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine if you just ignore the tension radiating from your bed behind you.
you’re adjusting your eyeliner in the mirror, a faint smile on your lips, trying to focus on the excitement of the night ahead.
still, the weight of suguru’s silent gaze feels like a steel rod pressing against your back.
every now and then, you catch his reflection in the mirror, arms folded, brow furrowed slightly, watching your every move without saying a word.
and then, of course, satoru comes crashing in, slinging the door open like he owns the place. he practically throws himself onto the bed next to suguru, his excitement bursting out like it usually does.
“hey, hey, what if the three of us got wasted and binged some trashy netflix show? i’m thinking love is blind — oh, wait, you’re —” he blinks, taking in your outfit.
his voice trails off, and his expression turns from bright to bewildered as he glances from you to suguru, then back again.
“wait, where are you going dressed like that?”
you sigh, knowing there’s no way you’re escaping this.
“i… have a date,” you admit, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit. you catch suguru’s eyes in the mirror, and he raises an eyebrow, his arms still crossed, jaw set tight.
“oh?” suguru’s voice is cool, almost too calm, but there’s an edge underneath that doesn’t escape you.
“does he know you live with two men?”
you swallow, fiddling with your hair as you avoid his eyes. “well… no, i mean, it just never came up.”
satoru lets out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, giving you a once-over that’s half-impressed, half-amused.
“so you’re planning to let him find out on his own when he walks in here and sees us? that’s bold.”
you roll your eyes, though you feel your cheeks heat up under their combined scrutiny. “it’s not like that! it’s just… i don’t know. i didn’t think it mattered.”
“doesn’t matter, huh?” suguru’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he stands up, slowly, crossing the room until he’s standing just behind you. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, his reflection towering over you in the mirror.
“so, what’s he like?” he asks, voice dripping with an intensity that makes your heart race a little faster.
you open your mouth to respond, but satoru’s laugh cuts you off. “yeah, yeah, tell us! tall, dark, and handsome, or short, plain, and boring?”
you bite back a grin, feeling the tension lighten just slightly with satoru’s teasing. “he’s nice. a gentleman, really. you’d probably like him,” you say, attempting a casual tone, though you can feel suguru’s stare growing sharper.
“a gentleman?” suguru scoffs, his lips curling into a smirk. “think he’d still be one if he knew you had two roommates watching out for you?”
“maybe he’d be intimidated,” satoru chimes in, grinning. he gets up from the bed, crossing the room to stand by suguru. “i mean, c’mon. anyone would feel the pressure, having to impress not just their date but her two very intimidating roommates.”
“intimidating?” you laugh, glancing between them. “i doubt anyone would find either of you intimidating.”
“oh, so that’s how it is,” suguru murmurs, stepping even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
“you think we’re harmless?”
your heart thuds, pulse quickening as he leans in. “you know i didn’t say that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.
suguru’s close enough now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours, and there’s an undeniable thrill that makes your head spin just a bit.
“do you really think he can keep up with you?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face in the mirror. “think he’s enough?”
you don’t answer, mostly because you’re not sure how to.
suguru’s words linger in your mind, twisting in ways that make you hesitate, and you feel satoru’s gaze on you too, a spark of something mischievous and knowing in his expression.
“you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let us meet him,” satoru suggests, his voice a lazy drawl that only adds to the heat building in the room. “just to make sure he’s, y'know, worth your time.”
you bite your lip, glancing between the two of them in the mirror, feeling the weight of both their gazes, the way their words seem to dig deeper than they should.
“why do i feel like the two of you would scare him off?”
“maybe because we would,” suguru murmurs, his voice like a dark promise. “if he’s not up to standard.”
satoru grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“or maybe we just want to keep you to ourselves.”
your heart skips a beat, and you’re sure your face must be burning.
“you two are unbelievable,” you manage, trying to laugh it off, though the sound comes out more breathless than you’d like.
you feel your stomach drop the second you realize satoru's got your phone. he'd snatched it up casually, thumb already working its way across the screen, entering your password like he's done it a million times. he lets out a strangled sort of noise as he stares down at the screen, his wide blue eyes taking in whatever he's found with an expression of pure shock.
"uh, what exactly have you been watching here?" satoru barely suppresses a snicker as he holds up the phone for suguru to see.
"‘getting used by my two roommates 'til i can’t walk?’ really?" he reads the title, drawing out every word in that slow, teasing tone he loves to use. "didn’t know you were into…this."
suguru’s dark eyes flash as he looks from the screen to you. he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature mix of irritation and amusement. "that's why you’ve been ignoring us, huh? too busy fantasizing to even tell us you had a date tonight?”
“it’s not —" you start, but suguru's hand is already at your waist, pulling you into his lap, effortlessly pinning you against him. your back’s pressed against his chest, and he’s got you facing the mirror, the smirk in his eyes only growing sharper as he settles you firmly on top of him.
“stay still," suguru murmurs, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver up your spine. "i wanna see you finish your makeup. maybe you’ll explain what’s going on here while you do."
satoru, still grinning, swipes further through your history, leaning closer with a loud, exaggerated gasp. "ohoho, what’s this? ‘my roommates won’t let me leave until i’ve begged them’? suguru, she’s got a whole list of ‘em!”
“tell me, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice drips with mock sweetness, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “are you disappointed it’s only a video?”
you try to fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks, attempting to focus on your eyeliner, but his hand at your hip keeps your body flush against him, heat radiating off him in waves. “you know i didn’t… it’s just a video, okay?”
“just a video, huh?” suguru’s thumb strokes your waist, and you catch his intense gaze in the mirror, dark and heavy-lidded, roaming over every flustered inch of your face. “don’t act so innocent.”
satoru snickers, flipping through more tabs on your phone. “so, when were you planning on telling this poor date of yours that you’ve got two guys in the apartment with you? two very protective guys, at that?”
“satoru —”
“nah, ’s cute.” satoru gives a little shrug, glancing at suguru with a grin. “she thinks she can just go on some little date and come home without us findin' out what she's been doin'.”
suguru’s grip tightens, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed in the mirror as he presses his lips close to your ear, voice low and dangerously smooth. “you like being watched that badly, huh? well, i’ll make sure you don’t even get a chance to squirm.”
you’re struggling to focus, trying to keep your hand steady as you bring the eyeliner back to your lash line, but it’s almost impossible with suguru’s iron grip keeping you firmly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you might escape at any second. his breath skims against the back of your neck, and he chuckles softly each time your hand trembles, knowing full well what he's doing to you.
meanwhile, satoru’s barely holding it together on the edge of the bed, and he’s not even trying to hide it. he’s got one hand slowly working his dick over his pants, the other still gripping your phone as he reads off your search history, letting out a low, exaggerated groan between words.
“let’s see… ‘getting absolutely used by my two roommates’…” satoru moans out the title, every word slipping from his lips laced with a mix of teasing and raw need.
his eyes flicker over to you, heavy-lidded, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. “y'know, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”
you shift in suguru's lap instinctively, your body craving some kind of friction, some release for the ache pooling between your legs. but his hold only tightens, hands splaying over your thighs to keep you completely still.
“what do you think you’re doing?” suguru’s voice is low, dangerous, his gaze dark as he watches you through the mirror. “i told you to keep still. or do you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”
the demand in his tone leaves no room for defiance, but your pulse quickens, the heat radiating from his chest pressing into your back as he keeps you locked against him. you bite down on your lip, doing everything you can to keep yourself composed, but your voice comes out in a breathy whisper. "s-suguru… please, i just —"
“‘please,’ huh? sounds like you’re already begging,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of your neck, sending a jolt of anticipation straight to your cunt. his fingers trail lightly over your hips, teasing, but keeping you pinned firmly in place.
“but begging isn’t going to get you what you want tonight.”
satoru lets out a soft laugh, the sound melting into a quiet groan as he slips his hand into his pants, finally giving himself the relief he’s been aching for. “oh, don’t worry, i think she’s getting everything she wanted, alright,” he says between breaths, his eyes flickering between you and suguru with that playful glint that drives you wild.
he jerks himself slowly, deliberately, his breath catching as he reads off another title from your history, voice turning breathy as his hand works himself harder.
“this one’s good… ‘roommate makes me sit still while i drip for him.’ god, you’ve got a real filthy mind, don’t cha?”
your cheeks burn as you try to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection, hands shaking as you lift the mascara wand, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. but your efforts are futile, every word they throw at you stoking the heat building in your cunt, making it harder and harder to focus.
“don’t worry, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice is a rough whisper, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches your gaze in the mirror. “we’re just giving you what you’ve been craving all along.”
satoru’s moans fill the room, breath hitching each time his hand slides down his dick, the rhythm picking up as his eyes darken with lust. he’s not even hiding his arousal anymore, not holding back, his gaze burning as he watches the two of you in the mirror.
“c’mon, 'guru, stop teasin' her. hike up that damn dress, let’s see what she’s hiding under there.”
suguru’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, the glint in them both dangerous and amused. he moves slowly, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, making your skin tingle as he exposes more of you. he lets out a quiet hum of approval as he tugs your dress up to your waist, leaving you sitting there, fully exposed, save for the thin fabric of your panties.
“these are cute,” suguru murmurs, voice low and teasing as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to the floor. he lets his hand trail back up, grazing the inside of your thigh, making you tremble with anticipation. “don’t even think about moving, sweetheart. if you mess up your makeup, ’m stopping.”
you swallow hard, nodding, feeling your pulse throb as his fingers dip lower, brushing against your already-sensitive clit. the touch is feather-light, almost too soft, and it leaves you aching for more.
satoru groans from the bed, his hand moving faster as he watches you, his reflection in the mirror every bit as unrestrained as his tone. “that’s it, sugu'. make her beg. let her feel what she’s been fantasizing about this whole time.”
you force yourself to focus on your blush, lifting the brush to your cheeks, trying to keep your hand steady even as suguru’s fingers start moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the pleasure sparks through you, making it nearly impossible to concentrate, and you can feel your cheeks burning, your breathing quickening with every movement of his hand.
“s-sugu… please… don’t stop,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation as you fight to keep your grip on the brush. “please… i’ll do anything.”
he chuckles, low and taunting, leaning closer to your ear, his fingers pressing down just a little harder. “then keep your hands steady, doll. if you want me to keep goin', you better not mess this up.”
but it’s useless; between suguru’s teasing touch and satoru’s moans filling the room, your hands are already trembling, and the brush slips, leaving a streak of blush too high on your cheek, too heavy, ruining the carefully crafted look you’d been working on.
suguru notices instantly, his eyes narrowing, a mocking smirk on his lips as he catches your mistake in the mirror.
“well, look at that. can’t even follow simple instructions, can you?” he tsks, pulling his fingers away, leaving you aching, desperate, empty.
“n-no, sugu, please —” you stammer, voice raw with need, looking at him through the mirror, eyes pleading. “please, i’ll fix it, i swear. just don’t stop, please… i need it, i need you —”
satoru laughs, still stroking himself, his voice thick with pleasure as he watches you beg. “she’s real desperate for it, 'ruru. look at her, practically falling apart from just a little teasing.”
suguru’s gaze is unyielding, his smirk growing as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “then maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep still,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "maybe i should let you sit here and watch instead. see what happens when you don’t listen.”
your heart pounds, every nerve in your body on fire, and you’re barely even thinking when you grab his wrist, pulling his hand back to where you need him most.
“please, suguru,” you beg, voice thick with desperation. “i’ll do anything… i’ll fix it, just… please touch me. don’t leave me like this.”
satoru’s groans are growing louder, filling the room with the heat of his breathy, drawn-out moans as he watches the scene unfolding in the mirror.
“yeah, sugu',” he mutters, hand working faster over his dick, his eyes trained on your reflection. “spread those pretty folds f'me. lemme see her fall apart.”
without a moment’s hesitation, suguru’s fingers grip your thighs, spreading your legs wider, baring you completely in front of the mirror, his hand moving down to part your slick folds with calculated ease. you gasp, your cheeks burning as you take in the sight — your own reflection, flushed and needy, legs open, your slick glistening in the low light. suguru’s eyes flick to the mirror, catching your gaze, smirking as he takes in the mess you’re making on his lap.
“look at that,” suguru murmurs, voice low and edged with satisfaction. his fingers slip between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been dripping down onto him, his smirk only deepening as he holds his slick-coated fingers up in the mirror, showing you just how worked up you are. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. did you really expect me to stay calm with you squirming like this?”
“s-sugu…” you whimper, feeling yourself clench as his fingers dance between your folds, teasing but not quite giving you what you’re aching for. every brush of his skin against yours sends another wave of heat through you, and your head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted in silent desperation.
“such a messy girl,” he continues, pressing a single finger into you, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch as he slides in. “this what you wanted? to end up spread open, on display for us?”
you can barely form words, your mind hazy with need, hips instinctively rolling against his hand despite his warning to stay still. “yes… yes, please…”
satoru’s moans grow louder as he watches you, the slick sound of his hand stroking himself filling the room. “fuck, look at her, suguru,” he pants, voice thick with arousal. “all pretty 'n desperate, just like she’s been dreaming about.” his eyes fall shut, his hand moving faster as he chases his high, the sight of you enough to send him over the edge. his hips jerk forward as he cums, his body trembling, a low, satisfied groan escaping his lips as he rides out his release.
suguru only smirks, his gaze never leaving your reflection, watching your every reaction with a dark, predatory satisfaction. “see that?” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum.
“even satoru couldn’t keep himself together, and here you are, makin' a mess all over my lap.” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes. “tell me, sweetheart, did you really think i wouldn’t get turned on by seeing you like this? so desperate, so needy?”
“i… i didn’t think…” you stammer, the words catching in your throat as his finger curls inside you, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.
“didn’t think?” suguru’s voice is a low, dangerous hum, his other hand slipping up to wrap lightly around your throat, holding you firmly in place. “then maybe you should’ve thought a little harder.”
satoru practically stumbles forward, his legs still shaky, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he moves closer. he’s got that pleading look in his eyes, the one that’s rare, the one that only comes out when he’s truly desperate. resting his head against suguru’s shoulder, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, voice low and needy as he murmurs, “suguru… let me taste her. please.”
suguru’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly reveling in the control he holds over both of you. he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you through the mirror, dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far more possessive.
“hear that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, dipping his fingers back between your folds, swirling them slowly, thoroughly, gathering every bit of slick as he teases you with languid strokes. “even satoru can’t resist you.”
you gasp, body shivering as his fingers press against you, teasing the sensitive spot that has you arching in his lap, barely able to keep your head straight. suguru’s hand is relentless, moving with a torturous slowness that leaves you aching, dripping, clinging to the last bit of control you have left.
then, with deliberate care, suguru pulls his fingers back, coated in your slick, and holds them up in front of satoru’s lips, his gaze hard and commanding. “go on, then. taste her.”
satoru’s eyes darken with unrestrained hunger as he stares at suguru’s fingers, coated with the evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he parts his lips, leaning in to take suguru’s fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks gently, his tongue swirling around suguru’s fingers, tasting you fully. he moans, soft and low, savoring the taste, his body shuddering as he licks every trace of slick from suguru’s skin, desperate, greedy.
“fuck, she tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent, as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to you, his gaze heated. “didn’t know you could be this sweet.”
suguru chuckles softly, watching satoru with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, his fingers finding their way back between your folds, slipping in with ease, now even more eager to tease you, to push you right to the edge and keep you there.
“well, you heard him, sweetheart. seems like we’re both a little addicted to you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety taunt, his breath hot against your ear. “you’d better get used to this — having both of us right where you want us. or, should i say, right where we want you?”
you’re lost in the haze of it all, every shred of control slipping as you feel yourself practically begging, voice breaking with need. “please, sugu… 'toru… i need… just, please, do something — anything,” you gasp, head tilting back, completely vulnerable under their gaze. "can't take it anymore."
satoru’s hand slips around suguru’s shoulder, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to suguru’s neck, lips brushing against his skin as he murmurs, “c’mon, sugu, don’t be so mean to her.” he lets his teeth graze just slightly, a playful nip that’s more coaxing than demanding. “just look at her, desperate for us, dripping all over you. can’t you give her a little taste of what she’s been begging for?”
suguru’s gaze flickers between you and satoru, a dark smile on his lips, but you can see the way his resolve begins to soften under satoru’s coaxing. his grip loosens just enough, giving you a chance to scramble up, your legs feeling like jelly as he finally lets you go. he stands, smirking down at you with a hunger that makes you shiver, and gestures for you to sit back on satoru’s lap.
the vanity chair feels cold beneath you, but the warmth of satoru’s chest pressed against your back is intoxicating, his hands coming down to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “thaaat’s it, baby, open up for sugu. let him see how pretty you are.”
you whimper as you feel suguru’s fingers trailing up your inner thigh, eyes locked on cunt as he kneels down between your legs, his gaze dark and unyielding, filled with that same possessive hunger you’ve come to crave. his hands settle on your thighs, tugging you just a bit closer, his grip firm as he lowers his head, placing a kiss right against your aching, dripping pussy.
satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them spread, his lips brushing against your ear. “look at you, such a messy lil' thing. bet you never thought we’d be the ones to make you this needy, hm?” his voice is a low murmur, taunting yet sweet, driving you to the edge with every word. “just let suguru take care of you… let him taste allll that sweetness you’ve been saving just for us.”
“oh god… please,” you breathe, voice breaking as suguru’s tongue flicks against your perky clit, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through you. he works with a deliberate intensity, his mouth moving in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing you, pushing you higher and higher, until you can barely think, every nerve alight with sensation.
“thaaaat’s right, just like that,” satoru murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter, keeping you spread wide open as he watches suguru devour you. “such a pretty lil' thing, all laid out for us… makin' a mess just for him.” his hand moves up, sliding around to your chest, fingers grazing over your nipples as he leans in close, lips brushing against your neck. “think you can take more? think you can handle everything we want to do to you?”
suguru’s mouth moves with more intensity now, his tongue pressing harder, faster, flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, hitting that spongey spot that has you arching back against satoru, your voice breaking into a desperate, breathless moan.
“you’re so close, aren’t you?” satoru coos, his tone almost mocking, a playful edge to it as he watches your every reaction in the mirror. “look at you, falling apart so easily. gonna make such a pretty mess, aren’t cha?”
suguru’s fingers pump into you, his tongue swirling, flicking, his movements pushing you to that razor’s edge. his grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you tremble, his own hunger growing as he devours you with an almost feral intensity. "come on," he growls against you, his voice low, sending vibrations through you. "cum for us, show us how much you need it."
and that’s all it takes — his fingers curling inside you, his mouth pressing down, sending you spiraling over the edge as you cry out, back arching, body quivering as your orgasm crashes over you. you feel yourself let go, shuddering in their hold, leaving you breathless, a mess on satoru’s lap as suguru keeps working you through it, lapping up every bit of your sweet cum, refusing to let you come down easily.
“there you go,” satoru murmurs, voice laced with satisfaction as he keeps you spread wide, watching you come undone, helpless and completely at their mercy. “such a good girl… makin' a mess for us like that.”
suguru pulls back slowly, a smug grin plastered on his face, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. he chuckles lowly, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he wipes a bit off his face with the back of his hand, though not nearly enough to hide what he’s done to you.
“look at that,” he taunts, giving you a mockingly impressed look. “made ya squirt allll over my face. you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? such a messy little thing…” he trails off, licking his lips as if savoring every last taste.
you feel heat rush to your face, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as you squirm in satoru’s lap. “don’t… don’t say it like that,” you mumble, your voice trembling, though there’s no denying how much his words affect you. you can’t hide how badly you’re still aching, the intense wave of arousal making you want more, despite the fact that you just came, and squirted, at that.
satoru’s hands roam along your thighs, holding you tight, his lips curved into a playful grin as he leans forward, his mouth hovering close to suguru’s. “she did a number on ya, huh?” he says, eyes gleaming with delight as he catches sight of the slick coating suguru’s chin.
without missing a beat, satoru closes the gap, his lips capturing suguru’s in a deep, messy kiss, tasting you on him, savoring it. he moans softly, the sound low and teasing, his tongue exploring with unrestrained enthusiasm as he presses closer.
the sight of them kissing, sharing your taste, is almost too much to bear. you can’t stop the whimper that escapes you, a sound so needy it leaves you breathless. “don’t leave me out,” you plead, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “please… i want…”
they both pull back, a wicked grin spreading across satoru’s face as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing your lip in a slow, taunting motion. “oh, sooo needy, aren’t cha?” he purrs, enjoying every bit of your desperation. “well, we can’t just ignore a request like that, can we, sugu?”
“not at all,” suguru murmurs, his voice low and filled with mischief as he moves closer, settling back down in front of you. he places his hands on your thighs, his fingers curling possessively as he draws nearer. “c'mon, sweetheart. let’s make it a little messier, just how like you like it.”
satoru’s hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips brush against yours, just close enough to make your pulse race. suguru’s hand finds its way to your cheek, and in a moment, the three of you come together in a heated, breathless kiss. your lips meet satoru’s first, his mouth soft but demanding, as suguru’s lips slide over yours from the other side, his taste mingling with the lingering remnants of your own cum. it’s dizzying, overwhelming, the way they both claim you, tongues slipping against yours, tasting, exploring, hands holding you in place as if you might slip away.
“you taste so damn good,” suguru whispers against your lips between kisses, his voice hoarse, filled with a dark satisfaction. he pulls you back into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before satoru’s slips in, joining the two of you, the three of you completely lost in each other.
“bet you never thought ya’d end up like this, huh?” satoru teases, voice a breathy murmur as his lips trail down to your jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that have you arching closer to him. “on my lap, our pretty little thing, squirmin' and desperate for both of us.”
suguru lets out a quiet sigh, and you can see the strain of impatience tightening his jaw as he kneels in front of you and satoru, his brow furrowed in something halfway between a pout and a scowl. he’s letting you and satoru indulge and draw things out, but his patience— impressive as it is — seems to be fraying at the edges.
“look at you two,” he murmurs, a dry chuckle slipping out. “have your fun, make your mess, and where does that leave me?” his gaze flickers between you and satoru, voice low and pointed. “just standing here, waiting, like a good little bystander?”
“oh, poor suguru,” satoru teases, his hand running soothingly down your back as he shifts you on his lap. “you’ve been so patient, haven’t you? just watching and… wanting?” satoru’s lips twitch in a smirk, his fingers curling against your hip as if making a show of it for suguru’s benefit.
suguru’s eyes narrow slightly, his usual calm slipping into something darker. “patience only goes so far, satoru,” he mutters, tone thick with frustration. “you two get to cum like a bunch of damn teenagers, but where does that leave me?”
you reach out, voice soft, feeling a pang of guilt. “suguru… don’t be mad.” you give him a small smile, tugging him closer. “we didn’t forget about you.”
satoru grins, pulling suguru even closer. “yeah, don’t worry, we’re all yours now. what do you want, hmm?” his voice drops, playful but inviting, his hand resting on suguru’s shoulder.
suguru’s hand reaches out to cup your chin, thumb tracing along your jaw as he finally, slowly, allows himself to smile. “maybe,” he says, voice soft but firm, “you both owe me a little something for waiting so long. i’ve put up with enough teasing.”
satoru chuckles, sharing a look with you before looking back at suguru. “oh, we can more than make it worth the wait, can’t we?”
suguru’s eyes glint with that familiar authority as he finally straightens up, standing up and crossing the room with calm, measured steps. his gaze flickers between you and satoru, a quiet command already forming in his dark, focused eyes. he looks pointedly at satoru, a hint of impatience underscoring his words.
“satoru,” he says, his voice low and firm, “take her to the bed. it’s about time you two put in some work.”
satoru’s eyes light up with a mischievous gleam, and he scoops you up, one arm slipping under your knees as he gently lifts you, carrying you to the bed without a second’s hesitation.
he sets you down on the bed, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in close, his gaze warm but teasing. suguru settles back in the chair by your vanity, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness as he watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. there’s a clear expectation in his expression, a silent reminder that he’s still in control here.
“don’t let me down now, satoru,” suguru says, his voice rich with authority, his gaze unwavering. “show me exactly how well you can follow instructions.”
suguru exhales sharply, eyes narrowing as he watches you and satoru with a simmering impatience. his jaw tightens as he pushes down his waistband in one swift motion, freeing himself with a low, restrained groan as his hand wraps around his dick, stroking slowly, his gaze heavy and fixed on the two of you.
“don’t just sit there,” he says, his tone edged with authority. “if you’re so set on putting on a show, then do it right. make it worth my while.”
satoru grins, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he glances at you, his fingers tracing down your arm before he pulls you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear.
“guess we’d better make him happy, hmm?” he teases, hands resting on your hips as he guides you down onto his dick, his touch both reassuring and charged with excitement. “don’t want to disappoint, do we?”
you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in being watched, knowing suguru’s eyes are glued to every little move you make. your hands grip satoru’s shoulders, and he chuckles, encouraging you as you settle in him, letting yourself get lost in the moment.
“that’s it,” suguru murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “show me how eager you are.”
you can feel satoru’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as you begin to move, finding a rhythm together. satoru’s hands roam along your waist, his voice filled with playful heat as he whispers, “keep going, just like that. let him see how good you are.”
suguru laughs, a low, mocking sound as he sits back, continuing to jerk himself off, his dark gaze fixed on you, unrelenting. “pathetic. you think you deserve to be taken out and treated sweetly?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got two men right here who know exactly what you need, and you were gonna settle for some monkey? that’s adorable.”
the humiliation sinks in, burning hot under your skin as suguru’s words echo in your head. you try to keep your focus, to follow each command as satoru’s hands guide your movements, urging you to grind down on him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers filthy encouragements that send shivers down your spine.
“come on pretty, don’t look at him, look at me,” satoru murmurs, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of your hips, directing you with a firm, possessive touch. “thaaat’s it. show him who you really belong to.”
your hands tremble as you cling to satoru’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth between him and suguru, who’s watching with that insatiable hunger in his eyes, his own hand moving lazily along his dick, strokes slow, deliberate, just enough to keep himself on the edge as he observes every humiliating, vulnerable moment between you and satoru.
“god, you look so pathetic right now,” suguru sneers, his voice thick with disdain, though his eyes glint with barely contained desire. “tears in your eyes, desperate to please us. tell me, was this what you were hoping for? were you just pretending to go on that date so we’d punish you? is that it?”
“n-no, i… i just thought…” the words choke in your throat as you feel satoru’s hand slide up to grip the back of your neck, his touch both comforting and possessive, holding you in place, forcing you to look into suguru’s intense gaze as he studies every quiver of your lips, every tear that spills over.
“don’t lie to us,” suguru snaps, and the sheer authority in his voice sends a thrill through you, leaving you helpless as you try to keep your rhythm on satoru’s lap, your body caught between the need to please them both and the overwhelming shame of being so exposed, so vulnerable under their scrutiny.
“you’re lucky ’m lettin' him touch you first,” suguru continues, voice low, his hand moving faster now, breaths coming in harsher pants as his own arousal intensifies. “lucky i’m not dragging you over here and showing you what real punishment feels like. maybe then you’d think twice about pulling a stunt like this again.”
“i… i’m sorry,” you whimper, the apology tumbling out without thought, the words desperate, choked as you try to meet suguru’s unyielding gaze, wanting so badly to appease him, to make up for even the idea of going anywhere without them. satoru’s grip tightens, his hands moving with a rougher urgency, guiding your hips faster, harder against him as he murmurs praises, teasing promises against your neck.
“yeah? you’re sorry, huh?” suguru taunts, leaning forward, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “then prove it. show me how sorry you are by doing exactly what we tell you — no hesitation. make me believe you’d do anything to keep us happy.”
“y-yes, suguru…” you whisper, cheeks burning with shame as you follow satoru’s guidance, riding him just the way he wants, feeling every inch of him pressing into you, the tension building with each movement, each lewd sound that fills the room.
“good girl,” suguru breathes, eyes dark, satisfaction evident as he watches you, his strokes quickening, matching the pace of your desperate motions, his gaze unwavering, fixed on the sight of you breaking down, surrendering completely to their control. “maybe this will teach you who you really belong to.”
satoru’s grip on your waist tightens with each roll of your hips, his smirk stretching wider as he watches you struggle to keep pace, his cock stretching you until your thighs tremble. your own voice, hoarse and raw, betrays you with every sound that slips free, the room filled with your desperate, incoherent whimpers.
but it’s suguru who keeps that edge of humiliation sharp, his fingers finding every weak spot, every place that makes you melt and squirm as he's behind you.
“c’mmon, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his fingers pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. the roughness makes you gasp, your body arching as you try to focus, but his low chuckle tells you he knows just how close to breaking you really are.
“thought you wanted to go out and be wined and dined, hm? but look at you,” he taunts, his words hitting deeper than any touch could. “acting like a little masochist, practically begging for more. ’m not even sure you remember who’s inside you right now, or are you just too dumb on ‘toru’s cock to care?”
“s-sugu… i–i can… i’m –” your words stumble, dissolve, lost in a gasp as his fingers come down with a sharp slap! against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your whole body shiver. it’s overwhelming, cruel, but there’s no denying how much you crave it - the brutal control, the way they push you further, faster, until all you can do is hold on.
“oh, i think you like it, babe,” satoru teases, his tone dripping with that cocky assurance as he watches your dazed expression. “see, you’re taking everything we’re givin' you, even that little ache in your hips. you’re just gonna keep goin', aren’t cha?”
“y-yes… anything… i’ll… i can — i can take it,” you pant, voice catching as you meet suguru’s dark eyes, filled with that familiar, ruthless amusement. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his touch unyielding as he pinches your nipples again, harder this time, watching with satisfaction as your face contorts with a mix of pleasure and pain.
“yeah? then prove it,” suguru breathes, his voice low, daring, as his fingers slide back down to flick against your swollen clit with a relentless pace. “show me how much you can handle. if you’re gonna be ours, then you’d better keep up.”
it’s cruel, it’s overwhelming, but that edge of that masochistic thrill surges through you as you sink deeper, surrendering to every brutal, delicious touch, loving it more than you could ever admit.
satoru’s grip on you falters, barely able to register when suguru thrusts into you from behind, satoru's hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as he tries to steady both of you under the sudden, relentless rhythm. the shock jolts through your whole body, forcing a strangled moan from your lips as you’re practically bounced between them, your mind barely keeping up with the intensity. it’s messy, overwhelming, the slickness of your bodies pressed together, every nerve ending alight.
“you little slut,” suguru snarls, voice rough and dark, his grip bruising as he slams into you, barely giving you a moment to adjust. “thought you could keep me out of this? thought ‘toru could have you all to himself? what a selfish bastard,” he sneers, throwing a mocking glance at satoru, who’s panting beneath you, just as helpless as you, his own words failing him in the haze of pleasure.
satoru’s only response is a choked groan, his nails digging into your skin as he’s forced deeper inside you with every brutal thrust from suguru. “f-fuck… yeah… yeah, you’re right, sugu,” he manages to gasp out, voice strained. “should’ve… should’ve let you have her from the start, huh?”
his words are broken, barely coherent, but the way his hips buck up to meet you makes it clear just how much he’s losing himself in the feeling, in the sight of you completely overwhelmed between the two of them. his eyes lock onto yours, desperation painted across his face as he breathes, “who’s making you feel better, huh, baby? tell us… tell us who’s got you like this.”
the question leaves you reeling, mind scrambling to answer as every thrust sends sparks down your spine, your body caught in the unyielding rhythm of their touch, their words. the overwhelming intensity builds, cresting higher and higher until you can’t even find the words, can’t think of anything but the way they’re both consuming you whole.
and when suguru’s fingers snake down to rub at your clit with punishing pressure, it sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision going white as your whole body clenches, shuddering violently. your orgasm crashes over you, raw and uncontrollable, soaking both of them as you shake, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowns out everything else.
“oh, fuuuck, yeaah… that’s it,” suguru growls, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you cum, his thrusts not slowing, his hand digging into your hips with renewed force. “knew you’d come apart like this, just needed a little push. pathetic, aren’t you? look at you, makin' a mess all over us.”
satoru moans, his own hips thrusting up as he feels your cum coat his dick, his eyes half-lidded, dazed. but before you can even catch your breath, satoru’s hands are already pulling you down, his grip firm as he positions you above him, eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger.
“oh, you thought you were done, sweetheart?” he taunts, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “nah, you’re not getting off that easy.”
he drags you forward, forcing you to settle over his mouth as he takes a loonnng, deliberate lick, his tongue swirling over your already sensitive folds. a sharp, keening whine escapes your lips as the overstimulation makes your head spin, hands scrambling to grip the headboard as you try to find any bit of balance.
“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” satoru groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder. “can feel you shakin', baby. what’s wrong? thought you could handle us?”
“sato — please,” you gasp, the plea spilling from your lips as his mouth works you over, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking until you’re trembling, barely able to hold yourself up.
“oh, you’re just greedy, aren’t cha?” suguru’s voice comes from behind, mocking yet laced with desire as he steps up, his hands pressing down on your back, pinning you against satoru’s mouth as he positions himself against your other roommate. “actin' like a needy little thing… and leaving me to finish off while you get all comfy on ‘toru’s face?”
satoru lets out a muffled moan, and you realize suguru’s not just watching — he’s lining himself up against satoru, pushing inside with a sharp thrust that makes satoru’s body jerk beneath you, his hands digging harder into your thighs as he’s sandwiched against you both.
“fuck, suguru,” satoru moans, his voice coming out muffled as he keeps his mouth firmly latched onto you, his grip tightening as his body shivers with every thrust suguru gives him.
“god, 'toru, you’re so desperate,” suguru sneers, picking up a ruthless pace, each thrust making satoru’s tongue press deeper against you, pushing you closer to another orgasm despite the aching overstimulation that has you seeing stars. “you’re always actin' like a greedy little perv… can’t even let me have her to myself without gettin' ya share, huh?”
satoru’s hands move to grab your waist, pulling you closer, nearly burying his face in your sloppy pussy as he lets out a choked, needy whine against you. “c-can’t help it… shit, ya feel so good,” he gasps, voice muffled and broken, his breath warm against your swollen folds as his tongue presses deeper, eager and desperate. “taste s'sweet, baby… can’t get enough.”
you’re practically sobbing by now, your hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white as you rock against his face, feeling the pleasure climb with each swirl of his tongue, each brush of his lips. “i… i can’t… too much, satoru, please —”
“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” suguru growls, his hand coming up to push between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch as he ruts into satoru, the sharp rhythm making you jolt with each movement. “you’re gonna stay right here and take it, just like the little slut you are, yeah? don’t pretend you don’t love it.”
satoru’s moans grow louder, more desperate, as he’s thrust into over and over, the pleasure and intensity breaking him down as his grip on you tightens, his mouth working you over with fervor, almost as if he’s trying to drown himself in you.
“who’s makin' ya feel good, huh?” suguru taunts, his voice dark and rough as he keeps up his pace, driving satoru’s face further against you with every thrust. “tell me who’s got you fallin' apart like this.”
“y-you both — oh god, both of you, please —” you stammer, your voice breaking as your thighs shake, every nerve alight, each stroke of satoru’s tongue pushing you closer until you’re lost, another orgasm overtaking you, spilling over like a flood that leaves you sobbing, spent, and completely theirs.
caught between suguru and satoru, the pleasure swells in waves, overtaking you so completely that words blur into desperate confessions, spilling out between gasps and shudders.
“l-love you… both of you, so much,” you babble, the sincerity threaded with breathless need, and it’s enough to push them over the edge.
satoru’s groans vibrate against you as he holds your hips, fighting to keep focus on your pleasure even as suguru’s relentless hand brings him to his own breaking point. he tries to keep his mouth steady, his tongue still teasing over you, but he’s undone, bucking helplessly, gasping, “shit… suguru, i —”
“you like this, don’t you?” suguru sneers, his voice thick with both pride and satisfaction as he thrusts into satoru. “can’t even take your eyes off her, even while i'm inside you,” he taunts, his words making even satoru flush. “look at you both, so desperate, so damn needy.”
satoru lets out a strangled moan, his body tensing as he comes, his release coating his own stomach as suguru’s hand jerks him through it. satoru’s head tilts back, eyes half-lidded with dazed pleasure, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he lets himself fall into the sensation, never breaking contact with you.
the combination of their sounds, suguru’s deep, satisfied groans as he spills into satoru, satoru’s quiet, shuddering gasps beneath you, and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your own body, sends you tumbling into your third - or was it fourth? - climax. it’s dizzying, consuming, leaving you boneless, shaking, barely holding onto the headboard as the last tremors run through you.
satoru is quick to catch you, his strong arms guiding you down to rest, his mouth softening from its earlier intensity as he places gentle kisses against your thighs. “ya good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his tone tender, grounding you with a warm smile as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.
“yeah… just, totally spent,” you mumble, a laugh slipping out as you relax into his hold. suguru settles beside you, his hand stroking soothing circles on your back, his gaze softened from its earlier sharpness.
“good girl,” suguru praises, his voice quiet now, full of affection as he pulls a blanket over you. “took everything we gave you… we’re proud of you.” his lips brush your forehead, and for a moment, there’s only warmth, only the steady rise and fall of your breaths.
you snuggle between them, letting out a contented sigh. “oh, by the way, um…” you start, a sheepish pout forming, “there wasn’t actually a date tonight.”
there’s a beat of silence before satoru bursts into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face as he leans back, groaning.
“are you serious?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “we did all that because you made up some story?”
suguru smirks, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leans close, tugging you gently by the chin so you’re looking right at him. “you’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice low with amusement. “but you’re ours now, so there’s no need to make up stories to get our attention.”
“unless…” satoru teases, his eyes glinting mischievously. “you just like getting us all riled up.” he taps your nose, chuckling as he pulls you back against him, letting you rest in his embrace.
you let out a soft giggle, feeling safe, cherished, utterly at ease. satoru's arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him as his laughter bubbles up, muffled by your hair.
"oh, yeah," he snickers, his voice low and teasing, "guess we’re a trio now, huh? what, you didn’t think it’d get official after all that?”
suguru huffs a laugh, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he leans in, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of amusement and mischief. “our little trio, huh?” he murmurs, his tone somehow both affectionate and playful. “and here i thought you’d keep us on our toes a little longer.”
you look up at them both, cheeks still warm, lips swollen from all the breathless kisses, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out of you. “so that’s it, huh? i’m stuck with you two now?”
“stuck?” satoru grins, his voice full of mock offense. “you better be thrilled to be our third, princess. you know how hard it was to keep this one” — he tilts his head at suguru, whose smirk only grows — "from swooping in first?”
suguru chuckles, rolling his eyes as he brushes a thumb along your cheek, his voice dipping. “oh, she was always going to be ours,” he murmurs, confident and possessive. “it was just a matter of when.”
“and where,” satoru quips, giving your hip a playful squeeze, making you squirm with a laugh. "and how often."
you press your hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “what did i get myself into?” you mock-groan, only to have both of them pull you close, laughter and warmth wrapping around you, sealing you into your newfound trio — exactly where you want to be.
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Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.
[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)
In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!
Viktor:
- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.
- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.
- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).
- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.
- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.
- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.
- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.
Ekko:
- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.
- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.
- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.
- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.
- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.
- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.
- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.
- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”
Vander:
- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.
- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.
- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.
- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.
- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.
- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.
- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.
Silco:
- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.
- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.
- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.
- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.
- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.
- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.
- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.
- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.
- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.
- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.
Jinx:
- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.
- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.
- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.
- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.
- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.
- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.
- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.
- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”
- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.
- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.
- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.
- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.
- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.
Vi:
- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.
- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.
- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.
- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.
- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.
- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view.
- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you
- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.
- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.
- And you do it again.
- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.
- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.
- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.
Sevika:
- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.
- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.
- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.
- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.
- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.
- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.
- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.
- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.
- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.
- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.
#arcane#arcane 2#arcane headcanons#arcane headcanon#arcane jinx#arcane vi#arcane vander#arcane viktor#jinx arcane#arcane sevika#jinx x reader#viktor x reader#vi x reader#vander x reader#sevika x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane writing#arcane x reader#silco x reader#arcane silco#arcane zaun#piltover and zaun#sevika arcane#ekko arcane#ekko x reader#ekko headcanons#silco headcanon#vander headcanon#sevika headcanon
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Entry 3 – The One About That Guy, That Girl, and the Dragon
I’m just going to jump right on my magical pixie pony for this one – because why the fuck not? But, I promise this speculation has a foundation of fact. So, there’s that.
On Sunday, November 10, 2024 – seemingly out of nowhere – Zoe McConnell posted to her IG stories a picture of Nicola from a photoshoot from November 2022. Yes, you read that right – 2022. Zoe reposted this to her stories exactly two years from the day she first posted it to her grid.
Why?
Uh, happy anniversary to the picture? [feel free to scratch your head in confusion because I sure as shit did – but only for a second]
Who cares about a photoshoot from 2022?
And, don’t even get me started on the weird ass suggestion this was a push for Nicola to win – what bullshit award show is up next? – People’s Choice Awards. Actually, do get me started on that because that theory just makes my eyes roll. The only connection I see here is that the dress Nicola is wearing was from her 2022 Glamour Awards appearance. What exactly does that have to do with People’s Choice? Nothing.
Now, forget all about that shit and keep reading.
What IS interesting about this post from Zoe is that, if you’re a certain creator or anyone who has ever read this certain creator’s timeline, you’d know that this picture is referenced in said timeline (P.S. My disclaimer today is that I am not a fan of said creator but that doesn’t negate the information she has distributed to the masses).
Here’s what happened two years ago:
On November 9, 2022, Nicola posted one of Zoe’s images to her own grid, thanking Glamour for her award. Luke liked this post.
On that same day, Nicola posted a second set of pictures from that same photoshoot. Luke did not like that post.
The following day, November 10, 2022, Zoe posted one of those additional pictures to her own grid. Luke liked that post from Zoe’s grid. But, he did not go back and like Nicola’s second grid post from the day before. Why? Why go to Zoe's grid instead of Nicola's to like the pictures? I could speculate on this for the next eight minutes but I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.
So, this past Sunday, Zoe posts to her stories a link to that November 10, 2022 grid post that Luke liked. Nicola reposted Zoe’s story to her own IG stories. If you’re a Nicola fan, I can probably guess what you're going to do next. You’re going to click on Nicola’s story – which takes you to Zoe’s page – and when you click on Zoe’s stories – it takes you to the original November 10, 2022 post, which Luke liked at that time.
Odd, that.
And, by “odd,” I mean odd in the fact that no one cares about a two-year-old picture. I mean, really, who fucking cares? Except Lukolas who see Luke’s like on the original post.
Let’s keep moving.
On November 11, 2024, Zoe was right back at it. She posted to her IG stories another picture of Nicola from the same photoshoot. This time it was the one Zoe originally posted back on November 11, 2022. Yay, another anniversary. Zoe put a cutesy little caption that read: “Princess Peach.” Nicola did not reshare this story. I mean, at this point, we’re all watching Zoe, right? No need to reshare because our Lukola interest has been peaked, in my opinion.
Then, a few hours after Zoe’s post, Rachell Smith, also a photographer, posted an old picture of Luke to her grid. This picture isn’t as old as Zoe’s but it does go back to May 2024. Rachell follows it up with an IG story of the same image with the song, “Lifting You” by Jungle. Take a moment and go look up the lyrics and meaning of that song. Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just tell you. The song is about being deeply committed and doing whatever is needed to make a relationship work (this, per Mr. Google). Rachell’s caption? “[O]ur knight and shining [Luke].”
Well, fuckety fuck fuck fuck.
We have a princess and we have a knight.
Interesting.
I mean, we grew up with this idea that the knight in shining armor saved the princess, right?
To be honest, yesterday, I had no clue what that was all about (and I really didn't care -- the seas have been rough for the USS Lukola lately) so I went about my day like normal.
But, this morning, the wheels and cogs in my head started working together.
I wondered how that ever came about – the idea that a knight saved a princess.
So, I asked Mr. Google: “Where did the story about a knight rescuing a princess originate?”
Okay, yeah, I see Perseus and Andromeda…and in Western culture….Saint George and the Dragon…
Wait --
What?
Saint George and the Dragon?
Nope. Not possible.
But, I was certain it was.
I scurried over to Tiktok to find the post I’d seen a few months earlier about the medallion Luke wore for a long time – the one Nicola allegedly gave him. The TT creator believed that the necklace depicted none other than Saint George and the Dragon! Now, I must add that this has never been confirmed but the TT creator did make a fairly convincing argument for it. This is also the necklace Luke was allegedly wearing in the “Polin” picture that was released simultaneously by Nicola and Luke on October 21, 2024 (based on the chain of the necklace he was wearing).
Delulu?
Yeah, maybe.
But, we also can’t make this shit up.
Edit (11/14/2024): Today, Luke's People Magazine photoshoot came out. Guess who his photographer was? Zoe McConnell.
Again, we can't make this shit up.
#lukola#nicola coughlan#luke newton#speculation only#my opinion#my thoughts#we can't make this shit up
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yan! hsr x willing! reader headcanons
yan! aventurine, boothill, kafka, sunday [separate] x willing! gn! reader words: 1,017 requested by: @canigotosleep--plz (original request attached at end of post) cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking, abduction a/n: thank you so much for the ask! i might do more later, but here's what i wrote for now :>
Aventurine
How interesting that you’ve decided to turn his infatuation with you into a mutually beneficial transaction.
He knows that at this point you’ve realized he’s stalking you, and yet you’ve done absolutely nothing to stop it. You don’t try to shake him off your trail when he strides just a few paces behind you when you’re outside, and you haven’t tried to look for and destroy the cameras or hidden microphones that you must have figured out are in your home.
No, instead you speak more openly about things you want, and what you would expect from your future partner. Your friends and family think it’s just you being a hopeless romantic, but Aventurine knows better. These signals are meant for him, and he’s more than happy to indulge you. You receive gifts of the highest quality that, in the past, you could only dream of owning— and in the meantime, he’s paying to have your dream home constructed.
When he finally shows up on your doorstep to “abduct” you, you’re more than happy to pack the belongings you’d like to bring with you into a suitcase and follow him into a luxury car that you’re pretty sure isn’t even on the public market yet.
You never kick up a fuss with him, not even when he’s far clingier and possessive than anyone in a healthy relationship should be. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who showers you with affection, provides for you, and gives you whatever you want, whenever you want it— what could you possibly complain about?
He’s content with how things are. Some might say you’re just using him, but he doesn’t mind. If you are just playing a part, you play it well, and he’s more than happy to reward you for it.
Boothill
He might be more concerned with his own behavior if he wasn’t so worried about your reaction to it.
You’re fine with someone following you around and watching over you? You want to leave behind your boring, mundane life and not have to worry about making a living for yourself?
Your mindset makes him paranoid and makes him far more protective: would you react like this with anyone who showed this kind of sick, twisted interest in you? It gives him all the more reason to take you away and keep you by his side— he has to do it before someone else does. You’re so vulnerable and naive, and he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to be with you.
It’s smooth sailing after the not-really-an-abduction, though. You’ve always wanted to see what exists beyond the starry sky of your small hometown, and he’s always on the run, so there’s plenty of places for you two to explore together. He might not ever be able to settle down with you, but you’ve found you much prefer the whirlwind life with your sweetheart cowboy, anyway.
Your willingness scares him, but it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s the one looking after you, you’ve both got nothing to worry about.
Kafka
Oh, what a sweet little thing you are for her.
Truth be told, she was fully prepared to take you by force— she is one of the most feared people in the cosmos, after all. You were going to come with her, whether you liked it or not. She didn’t care if you cried, screamed, and fought her every step of the way; people can be picked apart and remolded, and manipulation is second nature to her.
But surrendering yourself so easily just saves her the time and hassle, and you will certainly be rewarded for it. The most lavish gifts you can imagine are handed to you, and when she’s not taking care of a mission Elio has assigned to her, she’s taking you to the nicest places in every corner of the cosmos. She loves showing you off, and she won’t settle for anything less than the best for you.
She’s honestly not surprised that you’re willing to go with her. She’d watched you for sometime, and she’d seen how miserable you’d been working so hard to provide for yourself and just barely getting by. There’s no need for that anymore, and she’s so glad you both agree that she’s what’s best for you. Just lay your head in her lap and be good for her— she’ll take care of the rest.
Sunday
He’s overjoyed that you see things his way without him having to use the Harmony.
You’d noticed he’d been stalking you. Careful as he was, it’s difficult not to pick up on the fact that you’re “coincidentally” running into someone a bit too frequently. Yet, you did nothing to stop it or discourage it. You had the attention of the most powerful and handsome man in Penacony— why would you complain about that?
Waking up in an unimaginably plush bed within Dewlight Pavilion does throw you off a bit, though. One moment you were chatting with Sunday over drinks at the Dreamjolt Holstery, feeling a bit sleepy, and the next thing you know, you’re here.
You are upset with him when he explains himself and why he’s brought you here, but not at all for the reason he’d been expecting. He could have just asked, honestly. And quite frankly, you’re a bit offended he didn’t even bother to properly court you before taking you away and making you live with him. Isn’t that, like, kind of indecent?
Once he recognizes your willingness, though, he’s relieved. There’s no need to pout any longer, dear. Of course he’ll court you properly now that he’s got you somewhere he knows you’ll be safe and sound. Should you need or want anything, just name it, and your designated attendants will have it for you in an instant. Any minute of his time not spent taking care of Penacony is spent on you, holding you close and indulging your every whim.
Others might be devastated about being locked up, but you’re more than content with the gilded cage you’ve been provided, and you’ve taken quite the liking to your keeper.
Original Request:
#willing reader just like me fr#yandere hsr x reader#yandere hsr#yandere x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr sunday x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#hsr kafka x reader#hsr boothill x reader#sunday x reader#aventurine x reader#kafka x reader#boothill x reader#yandere sunday#yandere aventurine#yandere kafka#yandere boothill#ceru.writes#ceru.answers#ceru.yan
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hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT
Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )
(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)
Knockin' On Heaven's Door
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(
word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)
side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!
You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.
Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.
It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.
And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.
There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.
Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.
So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.
"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"
That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.
Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.
The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.
The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.
"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"
He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!
The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."
"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.
Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!
You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.
Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.
"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"
You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.
"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.
It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.
In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.
So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.
It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.
"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.
It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.
You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.
God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.
It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.
"Bye, pretty"
He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.
Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.
Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.
The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.
But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.
"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.
"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.
"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"
He puts his helmet on, "Alright"
Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?
"Hey, what is your pro-"
Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.
It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.
Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?
The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.
You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.
"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.
"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.
You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".
The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.
"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".
He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:
"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.
So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.
You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.
You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.
But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.
Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.
Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.
So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.
Eddie's.
"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".
You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.
He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"
Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.
"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.
For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.
You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.
"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"
The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.
He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".
"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.
"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"
Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.
"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"
Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.
"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.
"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".
"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".
"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.
"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"
"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.
"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.
You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"
The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.
"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"
Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!
Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.
"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.
He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.
Would you help?
"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".
You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.
His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"
It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.
Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.
Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.
"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.
His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.
"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"
Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.
"Then you better show me what you mean"
You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.
His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.
"Don't stop" he huffs.
You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.
"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"
His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.
He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.
"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"
His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.
You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.
Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.
"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".
You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.
"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"
You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.
"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"
You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"
There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.
"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"
"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"
You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.
"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".
Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.
"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"
He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.
"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"
His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"
"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"
Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.
"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.
When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.
"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.
You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".
He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.
Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.
"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.
"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"
"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"
You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.
Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.
Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.
"Fuck"
As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.
"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"
How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?
"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"
"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"
#dilfistwrites#eddie brock#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x you#eddie brock fanart#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock smut#eddie brock fanfic#venom#venom movie#venom symbiote#venom smut#venom spoilers#venom 3#venom the last dance#marvel#marvel smut
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For the blurbs can I request Leah with royal!reader and the team finding out?? 🫶
Royalty Treatment || Leah Williamson x royal!reader
Summary The team find out about yours and Leah’s relationship
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“So, Leah, anything to share with us?” Katie asked as the team all piled in the changing rooms after training.
“No.” Leah denied, far too quickly.
“A secret you’ve been keeping from us?” Beth spoke up, the team stopping and looking over to where the conversation was.
“I said no.” Leah repeated, rolling her eyes.
“Not a special princess?”
“No. Me and Y/N are just friends.” Leah replied
“Just Y/N now, not even princess Y/N. Must be close friends, huh?” Katie continued, winding Leah up.
“We’re just friends, nothing more.”
“Then how come the press caught the two of you holding hands at an intimate lunch over the weekend?” Alessia pointed out, reading the articles from her phone.
“It means nothing, friends hold hands sometimes.”
“How do you explain the kiss afterwards then?”
“What kiss? They caught the kiss? Where? Show me.” Leah panicked, rushing to see Alessia’s phone. “Shit.”
“So, Williamson, why are you so panicked about the kiss? Is Y/N more than a friend then?”
“Fine. Me and Y/N are dating. Please don’t tell anyone, we don’t want everyone knowing until a few months.” Leah said, the team agreeing with Leah’s words, promising to not say a word.
Just as the team went back to their original conversations, Leah’s phone rang, my love written on her phone.
“Hey, love.” Leah whispered, trying to talk to you without the girls noticing.
“Oo, ‘love’. Hi princess.” Katie joked, you just so happening to hear her.
“Is that a certain Katie McCabe I hear?” You asked Leah, who hummed over the phone.
“They found out, love. They saw the articles. Sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry, Le. They were bound to find out anyway. Put me on speaker.” You told her, Leah listening and pressing the button on her phone.
“You’re on speaker.”
“Hey, everyone.”
“Hi princess Y/N.” The team echoed, you laughing at their formality.
“Y/N’s fine. Listen, I’ve got to go but I’ll come to one of your training sessions soon.” You said, the team saying goodbye before Leah put the phone normally again, just you and her.
“Bye love, I’ll see you later. I love you.”
“I love you too, le. Bye.”
“I love you, princess. See you later, princess. Cuddle me, princess.” Katie teased, everyone erupting in laughter at Leah’s face.
“Shut up.”
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader
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I love the idea of Everything is Alright being a reverse haram with megs, but I see you said originally. So might not happened, which I think is fine. Star doesn't need anymore trauma, but I can also see the possibility of a simple human mending the tension between the higher ups. Just might cause star, and possibly sounds to be very worried
I may still include Megs later on, just wasn’t sure if I could balance all three. It’s a lot easier when the guys at least kind of get along and this dynamic… not so much
Everything is Alright Pt 55
IDW Starscream x Reader
• Keeping you cradled to him as he types one handed on a report, he’s aware of the warmth of you leaning against him, little head resting against his chassis. “You want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?” You ask softly and his wings flick slightly, servos miskeying a glyph, because he should have realized you’d notice something is off. Always watching him, looking to him. You know him and it’s almost frightening. “You don’t have to,” you add when he’s silent too long, because how to even start? And there’s no way to explain how upset he is about finding out about your life span, without revealing that he cares too much. Without making himself vulnerable and risking rejection.
• Resting your ear against him to listen to the soft thrum of his spark, you don’t really expect him to answer. His feelings are something he hoards, keeping them to himself and only occasionally slipping and letting you see that not only does he care about you, but he needs you with him. “You know I care for you,” he says slowly, raspy words humming through you where you’re against him as one of his servos runs from your shoulder down your arm until you lay your palm against him and he vents. It’s not a question exactly, but not really a statement either. A reminder of how insecure he can be, as if trusting anything or anyone is almost impossible.
• “I care about you, too.” He knows. He really does, but something about hearing you say it settles warm about his spark. Tucking his chin so he can see you, there’s something uncertain in your expression that catches at him before you press your cheek against him so he can’t see your eyes, hiding your expression from him. “I like waking up against you. Like when you worry about me even if you don’t need to. Even when you get aggravated, I like the way your wings fidget.”
• Embarrassed, you keep your face hidden against him, trying to tell him how you feel without saying the actual words. Because telling him you think you might love him and you’re not sure when that happened? Especially if he’s only after something physical, needing someone to be there, but not the same way? It might just break you. You like his nervous tics, like the warmth of him and the way his servos feel absently stroking, touching you. You like him.
• Servos pressing you closer to him, grounding himself with the feel of you until you make a little noise of protest, mumbling that he’s squishing you and he relents. Again he thinks about how it would feel to entrust his spark to you, to feel you touch him that way. Would it only drive home the differences between you? Remind him painfully that there’s no way for this to ever be more, no spark in you to lose himself in? And so little time, he can feel it slipping away from him regardless. Head falling back against the back of his chair, he vents. Softly, hesitantly in Cybertronian, he begins to speak, knowing you can’t understand and feeling you shift to try and look at him as he shutters his optics so he won’t see your expression, because it’s hard enough to open up and this is the only way he can, this one sided conversation. Wishing for things not meant for him, swearing to protect you and cherish what time he has. That you’re his, spark or no spark. Regret and fear and love all tangled together. Feeling when you lay your head back down against him, listening to him without knowing how hard these words are.
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Some more cat!John pictures!!
I saw @idont-know-what-im-doing ‘s tags on my last post and I freaking loved the idea that instead of killing Parker, cat!John attacks Arthur’s eyes, subsequently blinding him.
Additionally, because John was originally planning on having Arthur open the book, attacking Arthur could possibly have been because he was suddenly scared and confused in the cat’s body, leaving a little more room for Arthur to forgive cat!John later on.
Yellow would be a dog in this (dog!Yellow) though I don’t know what dog to make him. I went greyhound because I like greyhounds, but a golden retriever feels appropriate lol. Or some other yellow dog. I’ll try to draw the ones people suggest tee hee
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The only “dense motherfucker” is one that believes it is women that must do so (make men feel comfortable) for men. You live in a society highly governed by your fellow males, if anyone is making you feel “bad” or “sad” it is because of the rules and laws created by your fellow males. Why should women who have been oppressed and subjugated for years, and are still subjugated by a different name care for your hurt that is caused by other men.
The biggest threat to women is men, the biggest threat to men is other men. At these your big ages, you would think that half a braincell would have formed by now. There is nothing that men will do now that they have not already done in the past. This is why women’s history and their experiences with the men they loved is very important for young girls to know. That way they don’t fall into the trap of “if you show them love, they will change and be kind.” Stop trying to put women in dangerous situations under the guise of loving all humans.
You have to be small minded to think women treat all men the same, your kind needs their ego stroked. Which is why women/girls are required to say “but not all men” when discussing things that disproportionately affect them. No one owes you love, but as humans we owe each other some sense of respect. So, you must respect women’s decisions to interact with you how they feel safest doing. The same way women have learned to respect that not all men are going to respect them. Only a dense pig would think that women do not understand the concept of viewing others as humans. In fact, time and time again it is women that are viewed as less than human by the same group you’re forcing them to care for.
As women (regardless of age), and especially as black women (moving away from the POC bs) you should prioritize your safety, you are not mother Theresa (even she was proven to be a fraud) and should focus on your own wellbeing. Don’t let an idiot calling you “dense” put you in situations many never come out of alive. As someone who has a male in her life that would do anything to see her happy and accomplished (and vice versa), I don’t go around with rose colored glasses trying to change anyone’s opinions because they chose to adopt an ideology that demonizes the living experiences of others. If being called “brother” is the only way you feel welcomed, then you need to rethink your entire life. Once you’re above 25, I implore that you try using at the very least 1/3 of your brain. I know using even half would probably cause a headache, so for now let’s aim to use 1/3.
Also you bring up the fact that men disproportionately hold more seats of power, so maybe direct your sadness to the people actively causing it. Which is the men in power not caring about the broke men (any man not in power). “It won’t pan out great for anyone who is not a male” because this is what males have done throughout history (I know you used man, but I used male for a specific reason and no I’m not a terf, but I don’t care about being called that). What a pathetic thing to say, especially if you’re not the man in power. This is an issue that egotistical idiots have (not calling you an idiot, but it is what it is), claiming men created this and that, when your ancestors are not the men that created it. Stop claiming power you personally don’t have. Stop claiming other men’s hard work as your own, especially when they put in the work to actually be productive members of society.
To the original twitter post, my dude you sound very stupid and seem like the kind that spends more time watching videos than actually reading on your countries history. The win was predictable, not because “men are becoming more right wing” but because this has been a common theme in America. These people are influenced by certain kind of media because deep down they already hold these beliefs, which is why they accept them. Men don’t genuinely want to see equality, hence why when they notice any group they view less than getting more rights they retaliate. The election result only tells us the reality of America as it pertains to race and sex (even more so when we look at the outcome of certain women’s voting history). So, the replies need to stop trying to make women take the blame for actions caused by other men. We should all aim to grow up.
To all the women/girls out there, avoid men that always want to be coddled and victimized. Most importantly find ways to protect yourselves, utilize the 2nd amendment given to you not by all men, but by the men that actually wrote it in. Protect yourselves by all means, and don’t be made to feel guilty for opting for safety over danger and stress.
Edit: have come to the conclusion after reading a substantial number of replies, Tumblr has a significant number of idiots who think they are smart. As a collective, we should all go touch grass.
I couldn't have said it better myself.
#men#women#misogny#misandry#intersectional feminism#radical feminism#feminism#presidential election#election 2024#red pill#blue pill#victim mentality
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Dead Dove December 2024
Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting a multi-fandom event that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2024 - 12/31/2024 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. or whenever i get around to it. i have not even done the pride masterlist bc I'm a disaster! But most importantly this will be for funsies.
I hosted this last year with just oscar/pedro Characters but Logan is my special guy so he's here now too <3
Details below the cut…
What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!
The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org
In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.
How to Participate
For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2024 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.
Rules
You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.
The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW. last year a friend even did cnc, where it was seemingly dark but then ended with it was Marc and reader ding a scene. Dark reader or oc is an absolute yes.
Your work MUST have an Oscar Isaac, Hugh Jackman, or Pedro Pascal Character. It can be x reader, x oc,xcanon character, crosoversec. If you want Joel Miller fucking the ghoul from Fallout (or both of them fucking a reader)you can even though Eddie doesn't exist in any Oscar Pedro Hugh content. If you want Marc and Logan to fuck, go nuts. Got a series you're already writing, and wanna submit a dark chapter or a dark Au to it? That's fine too! We're pretty open here. No rpf.
Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2024. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2024. Masterlsit will be posted in January.
Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can, but aware of POC queer and disabled people.
You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it. You can also work with another creator together.
I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing/promoting all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:
No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or "Show Ellie" x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.
No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.
No Real person fanfiction. Can’t include Oscar, Pedro, or Hugh. This is not a moral judgement or me looking down just not in my comfort zone
No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Different age of consent in your state or country does not apply here, and frankly I'd prefer 21+ but I know there are younger people than me who write so I'm not gonna say you gotta write like that. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).
No necro/snuff. Plain and simple.
I have final say in what I want to promote. Is TLOU 2 Ellie an adult and not technically Joel's ctual kid? Yes. technically it fits all the rules but it gives me the ick so I'm not gonna accept it. I cannot possibly prepare for all scenarios, and i want to just be able to have fun here with yall.
If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.
You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!
Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.
I’m very excited! This is my second year hosting this an I've hosted other events by myself or with friends so I'm happy to keep going, this time with Hugh Jackman bc i can't get Logan out of my head.
Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor
Please consider reblogging to spread the word!
I don't reall know many people in the logan/hugh jackman fandom so I'd love if this was an oppritunity to get to know yall too!
Dark prompt list to come, also check out #deaddovedecember2023 to see what last year had!
#deaddovedecember2024#dead dove do not eat#dark joel miller#dark!joel#the last of us hbo#Logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#dddne#dark#dark fanfiction#oscar isaac#pedro pascal#joel miller#moon knight#tlou#jake lockley#triple frontier#dark content#dark!fic#non con#dub con#yandere#dark jake lockley#dark marc specter#dark steven grant#dark santiago garcia#dark francisco morales#dark pero tovar#dark smut#dark duke leto
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YOU'RE NOT HANNA, AND NEVER WILL BE HER | Sebastian Vettel
history series main masterlist | requests here!
red bull sebastian vettel x reader, nico rosberg x reader
word count: 6588
summary: 2010 german gp post race party has many things in store for seb and y/n, who finally do what they both been willing to do for a long time even they're dating hanna prater and nico rosberg
warnings: everything related to gender-based violence (main trigger warning to physical and mental abuse) from nico to y/n (reminder that everything you read on my blog is fiction), curse words, "cheating", mentions of suicide and cancer
a/n: i'm quite scared and happy at the same time to be posting this fic because it's one of my favourite parts ever on history series, but still has me so worried you might not like it because of all the topics (and because history series was originally posted on wattpad and not many people liked it but don't let anyone know that pls). anyways, let me know your thoughts on this one and request anything you might like if you want pls! i'll probably be posting tomorrow another part since my town is currently on high risk alert of floods and we've been told not to leave home. let me remind you that comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! thank you so much <3
© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
2010 Hockenheim German Grand Prix
You paused for a moment in front of the bathroom mirror as Valentina finished your makeup. You leaned forward to get a better look, but the your woman followed your movements with perfect synchronization and, surprisingly, without messing it all up.
Your own reflection was completely unrecognizable to you. In front of you stood a beautiful, self-assured Y/N, looking like someone who possibly had a life that, while not perfect, seemed enviable.
You feared that a simple layer of makeup could make you feel completely different from reality. It was as if all your problems had suddenly vanished, and instead had in front of you a superwoman admired by everyone, not a twenty-something whose life was falling apart.
Valentina Martínez, the girl standing beside you with whom you’d had the opportunity to become closer, was one of the Mercedes catering managers and, also, exactly the complete opposite of you. Valentina had a beauty that everyone could admire and a confidence that many, including yourself, would love to have. She could lift others' spirits with just a smile and a few words that, while not wise, were good enough to make sense.
The Argentine radiated the kind of magic you felt you lacked.
So, when Valentina’s gaze fell on yours as you continued to admire how beautiful you felt.
“Come on, Y/N!” Valentina shouted, stepping away from you and starting to bounce on her feet. “I know this isn’t your thing, but I swear you look incredibly hot.”
“Valentina…”
“None of that,” she interrupted, “you need a bit more confidence. I don’t know how you don’t have it with Nico already. He’s totally worth it!”
As Valentina’s smile grew wider, you sighed and lowered your head. You thanked her as calmly as you could for trying to transfer some of her positivity, though you knew it was somewhat of a show Valentina put on for everyone and wasn’t doing anything particularly special for you.
That was what you liked least about her: Valentina was so well-liked and appreciated by everyone that, somehow, she always played the same role, regardless of who she was with.
“I don’t know why I’m going to a party I definitely don’t want to go to,” you confessed with honesty.
Today’s race had been quite tough, and although the strategies were solid, they didn’t seem to deliver the expected results when Seb only managed to get bronze in his home race. That’s why all you wanted to do at that moment was order a good room-service dinner and eat it under the bed sheets while watching some low-budget TV show before trying to get some sleep.
"You know that stepping out of our comfort zone is the best thing," Valentina said, moving closer to you and gently taking your hands. "Besides, you're doing this for Nico," she insisted. "Remember: he's your boyfriend, and it's your duty to make him happy."
You smiled shyly even though, deep down, you shivered a bit at the tone Valentina seemed to be using with you. It was as if she wanted those last words, it's your duty to make him happy, to penetrate your mind and stay there. You tried to ignore it, as it was probably your own insecurities taking over. And, in some way, you knew Valentina wasn’t wrong. She was aware that you needed to stop being so perfectionistic and rigid, and maybe start letting yourself go a little bit more.
"You're right, yeah," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."
Without saying anything else, you left Valentina’s room to head back to your own, just a couple of doors away, not without first gathering the clothes you had been wearing earlier while your friend continued getting ready.
As you took out your room card from the small purse hanging from your shoulder and swiped it to enter, you started feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. However, the moment Nico Rosberg, your boyfriend, came out to greet you and looked you up and down, hands on his hips, all of it disappeared.
"Are you seriously going out dressed like that?" he asked, completely incredulous, pointing at your dress. "You look like a slut."
You were speechless, though part of you wanted to say everything she was feeling. Once again, fear caused you to shrink back, cautious about your actions and the possible consequences. The tone he had used on you was filled with anger and, above all, disappointment. You knew that nothing good would come from answering, so instead you held back everything you wanted to say to him.
“Nico, it's just a dress…” you tried to explain as calmly as possible, not really knowing how to make him see reason without losing your composure.
He stepped closer, and his eyes filled you with nothing but fear. You could swear that, in his fury, the bluish hue of his eyes had turned an orange-red, like fire; his pupils, fully dilated, were what sent you into internal panic.
“I don’t give a damn fuck if it’s just a dress,” he mocked you. “I don’t want you going out like that. You know there’ll be consequences.”
Be careful how you act with me, he had told you one day when you said you weren't in the mood to go out to have dinner. Since then, though you had realized many things he did to you, you’d also started to act with caution and rationality, knowing that blows could come at any moment.
You’d even considered that there was a remote possibility that you might be the one to end things, especially every time you recalled every single insult he used to hurl at you whenever you misbehaved, which had only increased in frequency in recent weeks, following your father’s death and your trip with Seb to your hometown for the funeral.
But, most especially, when the Red Bull Racing driver stayed a few days with you because he was absolutely worried about your mental health getting worse.
A lump formed in you throat as a few tears began to fall freely down your face, ruining the makeup your friend had taken so much time to apply and had turned out so well.
“If you don’t change your clothes right now and put on something that makes you look like a decent person…” He threatened, moving closer with his hand raised. “Think carefully, Y/N: I don’t want to go crazy, but I think you're forcing me to.”
You couldn’t let fear paralyze you at least, not now, as you felt his hand inching closer to your body. Another physical mark that would eventually fade, but another one that would leave a psychological one permanently.
"Please, Nico, don’t do this…” you begged, completely desperate by this point, but trying not to show it. “You said you loved me just the way I am and…”
“I just can’t believe you’re so stubborn! Don’t you get that I don’t want you going out dressed like some desperate girl who clearly wants to fuck with everyone?!” he yelled, filled with rage.
You backed up as much as you could until your back hit one of the surrounding walls. You had encountered this version of Nico before: no matter how hard you tried to reason with him, he would manipulate you until you ended up thinking it was entirely your own fault.
“Please, Nico, don’t shout. I don’t want anyone to hear us…”
“They’ll hear us if that’s what you deserve for wanting to embarrass me,” he shouted again, even more furious.
You knew the tension had reached its peak and that, from there, things would only worsen.
Nico kept yelling at you. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands pressed over your ears, waited for the familiar sensation of one of his limbs landing on any part of your body he fancied at that moment.
“Oh, so now you have the nerve to ignore me?”
When you heard him clearly again and saw his hand raise, you somehow found the courage to turn away and quickly slip into the bathroom, forgetting to lock the door in your haste.
“Open up right now!” he screamed.
While he pounded on the door, his yelling relentless, you leaned against the farthest wall, as if he might burst in at any moment.
It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.
You gasped for air in a place where there seemed to be none, your hand instinctively clutching your chest as if to shield your heart, which felt like it might burst out at any moment. You had learned to live with anxiety and panic, and both emotions had reached a point where they didn’t control each other but had fused, learning to coexist together with you.
“Nico… I’ll change my clothes,” you said, still crying, your voice choking. “I’m sorry, really,” you lied, trying to sound as convincingly as you could. “But please… don’t hurt me.”
Not again.
Your whispers seemed to have reached him because his pounding and labored breathing quieted. You hoped that the situation had calmed, and it seemed like it had.
He didn’t answer immediately, instead giving you enough time to remove the ruined makeup from your face and apply just a little mascara. A few minutes passed, enough time for you to relax and consider the possible outcomes of what might happen next, before he coldly demanded that you open the door.
You emerged and collided with his chest. Forcing yourself to look up at him, all you could see was contempt.
“Once again, you’ve disappointed me,” he stated without a hint of hesitation. “No wonder why lots of shit happens to you and people treat you so poorly. I was wrong to judge Vettel: he was right to treat you that way, and he should’ve done even more to you.”
All you could do was lower your gaze and head toward your suitcase on the floor, trying to pick something that would be ok with Rosberg’s dress code while reminding yourself that Seb did things quite bad, but he seemed to be truly sorry and apologized many times to you. The beautiful red dress, strapless and embellished across the chest, falling just above your knees, had to be replaced by another dress of the same color, but one that reached your ankles, with a much higher neckline and looser fit, so as not to highlight your nearly nonexistent curves.
“Happy now?” you asked, with as much disdain as you dared, even knowing he might match your face to her outfit.
“If you behaved like a responsible adult, yes,” he muttered as he opened the door and took your hand forcefully. “Sometimes I forget you’re only twenty-two and you have a lot to learn about life.”
Did he really know more about life than you did after all you had to go through?
That thought lingered in your mind throughout the journey, from their floor’s hallway to where the party was held, including the elevator ride where they encountered Mark Webber and a journalist from Sky Sports Germany, Eloise Schimdt. During the conversation between the four of them, though you remained silent, you had to pretend that everything was fine, even as your insides felt like they were shattering further.
As they entered the venue, the music, louder than she liked, started to throb in your ears. Your eyes opened wide to adjust to the dim lights from the spotlights, and, as you always did when in a public place with Nico, you began scanning the scene in detail.
There were more people than the space could comfortably hold. The dance floor was packed with people moving energetically, glasses in hand with the sole mission of keeping the alcohol from spilling. The bar was just as crowded, and in the center, across from shelves stocked with every type of liquor imaginable, she spotted Kimi, Fernando and Jenson with their respective partners, chatting animatedly.
But your eyes didn’t seem to waste any time and ended up settling on the guy standing a bit farther away from the others.
Sebastian was leaning back against the bar, tapping his left hand on it to match the rhythm of the song playing. In his other hand he held a glass of what she assumed was, possibly, a Jägerbomb, his favorite drink and, to him, a must-have for parties like this. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with those Geox trainers he always wore, and his hair was completely tousled.
In that moment, you felt utterly captivated by him, and you were sure you would have dared to talk to him if his eyes hadn’t been fixed on Hanna. The blonde girl was a few steps in front of him, dancing seductively without caring where she was or who might be watching her.
You couldn’t help but wish, at that moment, to be her.
You shook off those conflicting thoughts as soon as Nico grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, snapping you out of your trance, to head toward the bar.
"Give me a Martini," he said abruptly to the bartender, "and some water for her. She’s a bit dizzy," he lied to stop you from drinking, as he often did every time you went out.
"A Jägerbomb if you can, please," you ended up telling the guy behind the bar with your best smile.
You completely ignored the words and looks Nico was giving you. Instead, you just flashed your best smile at the bartender, who kept looking at you with concern, along with the rest of the people who weren’t too intoxicated yet and had overheard your boyfriend’s words.
"I can’t believe you’re drinking again… Can’t you control yourself or what?" he snapped.
He pulled you aggressively close, and you tried you best to ignore his words, spoken in a threatening tone directly into your ear, while you took your drink from the bar, along with his, and offered it to him.
Surrounded by people, you felt a bit safer than usual. He wouldn’t be able to hurt you, at least not physically, in front of everyone here… His reputation would be ruined, and Nico Rosberg was too proud to allow that.
So you didn’t stay silent.
"Nico, leave me alone for a few hours, please," you replied, ignoring his comments. "I’m here to enjoy the party you were so insistent on coming to, not to get scolded for wanting to have fun with you."
"Damn it, Y/N!" he expressed in frustration. "Do you always have to ruin everything or what?"
You just lifted your glass to avoid spilling your drink and walked towards the dance floor, leaving Rosberg behind, hurling insults you decided to ignore.
As soon as you found yourself among the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a friendly smile, you let yourself get carried away by the rhythm of the music. Tonight your shyness seemed nonexistent, and you could only thank the alcohol for giving you the confidence you had lost. You started to lose track of time as you danced, and though you didn’t know how, each move helped free you from the intrusive thoughts of loneliness and worthlessness, of feeling like nothing more than a mere object, which had crowded your mind at a dizzying speed.
You knew that mixing liquor with the energy drink that funded your lifestyle was only a temporary fix and that, once the effects wore off, your life would return to the completely chaotic state you had come to deserve.
Suddenly, the music stopped, as did the bodies moving on the dance floor. A spotlight focused on the stage, where Seb stood, microphone in hand and swaying. There was no doubt that he was drunk.
His swaying body made it clear that he had no idea what he was doing and that, at some point, he would end up regretting something.
"Sorry, sorry!" he said into the microphone. "But I feel like making a little pause in this party we’ve got going tonight because I want to sing a song to someone I care about a lot."
You began to feel terrible as Vettel gestured to the DJ for the music he wanted. A few seconds later, the first chords of Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars was the only sound echoing in the room.
"Babe, this song is for you, and I want you to know how much you mean to me!"
You could see Hanna smiling broadly and shrugging. You wanted to leave to cry again at the beautiful scene unfolding in front of you, of which you definitely weren’t the main character.
Was it too soon to say that the boy you were in love with dedicating a song to his girlfriend hurt worse than any blow your current boyfriend had ever given you?
Yes, it was clear. Possibly, the alcohol had already taken too strong a hold, and you could no longer control what you said or thought.
You know I'd never ask you to change
If perfect's what you're searching for
Then just stay the same
So don't even bother asking if you look okay
You felt confused and didn’t know what to do, but Sebastian’s voice, trembling and making his English accent sound more German than usual, had you completely captivated.
So did Prater's reaction when the German shifted his gaze from her to you.
“This is for you,” he said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “I know you know who you are, and I want you to know it’s all for you, and that you deserve the absolute best.”
When I see your face
There is not a thing that I would change
'Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile
The whole world stops and stares for a while
'Cause, girl, you're amazing
Just the way you are
You noticed Hanna moving to your side, visibly confused and clearly uncomfortable with what was happening.
“Y/N…”
She couldn’t say anything else, nor could you to her. As much as you wished to be Hanna, you couldn’t help feeling sorry for her at the strong possibility that her boyfriend was confessing his feelings to another girl right in front of her.
Or, at least, that’s what the alcohol led you to believe.
“I want you to know that, from the first moment I saw you, you’ve been in my heart,” Seb admitted, his words drawn out, uncaring about the reactions of those around them, especially his girlfriend’s or yours. “Right now, I can’t have what I want most, but I want you to know that being with you is the only wish I’ve made, and the one I’ll keep making on my birthday, until we can finally be together.”
That was the last straw. As quickly as she could, trying in vain to hold back tears and avoid drawing attention, Hanna left, thoroughly embarrassed, muttering something you couldn’t catch. Seb's voice still echoed in your ears, but you tried to ignore it because you couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Lost in thoughts, you moved as far away as you could, trying not to stumble. Then, you made your way to the bar to order another drink, as if that might somehow make you forget what had just happened.
Just before you could exchange words with the bartender who had already served you so many drinks that night, you felt someone take your wrist, though this time much more gently. You knew it wouldn’t be Nico; when you turned around and saw Seb, however, you were even more surprised.
Your eyes met, and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. Once again, you felt at home and safe, though deep down, you were only afraid.
Without saying a word, he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.
In that moment, you felt everything fade away. You let yourself go, unafraid of who might be watching or what might happen next. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss… your first kiss.
Slowly, calmly, and, as you felt, full of affection, you stayed that way until you both needed air.
You felt that you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and, in a way, you deserved it, turning a simple gesture of affection into something unique and special, caring little about your partners or your sobriety.
Seb pulled back, his hands still resting on you, and your gazes shared in complicity about what had just happened. You knew he was happy but confused, just as you were. You didn’t know what to say, and knowing he didn’t either, you simply gave him a shy smile to let him know everything was okay, that he could do that a thousand times more from now on.
“Y/N…”
“What is it, Seb?”
You wanted him to tell you he loved you, that he’d left Hanna, and that he wanted you to be his new girlfriend, the love of his life.
But, instead, Seb looked at you and left you, once again, speechless:
“You’re not Hanna… and never will be her...”
After he said that, you felt nothing but your breath slipping away and the sensation of fainting.
You wanted to tell him everything you felt at that moment, but his words had hit you so hard that they only increased your confusion and pain.
All you could do was stare at him, likely making a fool of yourself with the amount of tears clouding your vision. Silence took over, and when you finally found the strength to speak, trying to hide the pain you knew your voice would show, he turned away without even saying goodbye.
"How the hell could you do that, Y/N?! You have no shame! You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kissing Sebastian like you don't care about your boyfriend... now I see what you're really up to."
You didn't have time to say anything or leave because Rosberg came running towards you, grabbing your arm with a force you'd never seen in him. It hurt, and your scream, which was more of a complaint from the pain than a surprise, was a way of expressing how much you were hurting, not just from the tight grip, but also from the shake he'd just given you.
"Nico, please, calm down..." you tried to calm him, not wanting to embarrass yourself. Some people were already looking at you, and you wished Earth would swallow you up. "It was just..."
"Don't play innocent!" he shouted too loudly. "You thought I wouldn't find out?! I saw you kissing that piece of shit who only wants to fuck you until he's bored of you," he said, referring to Seb. "Now everyone here knows what you really are: a whore! And I'm glad, Y/N… You have no idea how glad I am."
The music suddenly stopped blasting, but your boyfriend's anger didn’t.
"Nico... I love you, really," you tried to speak. "It was just a moment of weakness..."
The moment of weakness was exactly what you were feeling now, making him believe you were truly in love with him when, in fact, you were only staying in the relationship because you were afraid your reputation wouldn’t make it out alive.
"You say you love me? Don't make me laugh! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t act like this."
You wanted to tell him that you thought the same about him, but you held back, paralyzed again by the fear that your mind was processing all the bad things that could happen.
"Nico, come on. You don’t have to act like this. We can talk about this civilly."
As you saw Edward, Vettel’s personal trainer, appear, and pull Nico a bit away from you, a little peace returned to your body. You gave him a grateful look, to which he just answered by nodding.
"You don’t have to get involved, Eddie!" your boyfriend shouted. "Stay out of our fucking business!"
"You know you don’t have to treat her like this," he said seriously.
"She’s a whore, can't you see it?" Nico spat, pointing at you. "Disgusting little girl..."
"Nico, I understand you're angry," Patterson spoke again, after the German’s words, "but neither of you is in a state to talk about this, and this is not the right place," he said, referring to the curious looks around them.
You could only constantly whisper for them not to fight anymore, while deep down you prayed to take you away from all of this and bring you back to the hotel.
"I don’t care what you say," Eddie started. "I'm taking Y/N. I don’t think being here is the best thing for her."
After saying that, he stood behind you and guided you, putting his hand on your back, toward his car. At that moment, your desperation was so great that you didn’t even think about whether he was in any condition to drive.
The way back to the hotel, less than ten minutes away, felt eternal.You hadn’t drunk much because you didn’t like it, but not being used to it was enough for a couple of curves and a badly taken roundabout to make you gag and feel like vomiting.
Slowly, the shock began to set in, and you started to act on autopilot mode, following the directions of the man accompanying you, except when he told you it would be best for you to sleep in his room that night.
You didn’t know why, but that set off alarms in your confused brain. The last thing you wanted was to add fuel to the fire by sleeping with another man who wasn’t your boyfriend just to protect you.
"Thanks for everything, Eddie, really, but I think it would be best if I went back to my room to sort things out with Nico."
The Brit didn’t seem to agree with you.
"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but I don’t think it’s best for you to share space with him tonight," he was honest.
"I just want to talk to him and try to put an end to this," you insisted, still knowing you weren't right.
"And I understand you, really, but right now everything is too fresh, and the best thing is for you to rest and let the drunkenness wear off," he said, placing one of your arms over his shoulders. "Come on, I’ll take you to my room."
You decided not to argue anymore because it would be in vain, so you let yourself be guided while he lectured you about how you shouldn’t be intimidated by Nico and how you deserved someone better than him after what had happened at the club that night.
"Edward, Y/N. Good night, guys."
You lifted your gaze and saw another Brit. Jenson was standing in front of you, coming out of the elevator you were about to take. You were greatly surprised that he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but didn’t want to get involved; your alcohol-soaked self, however, wanted to gossip.
"Where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms and blocking the elevator doors so they couldn’t pass.
"I’m... taking Y/N to my room," Eddie revealed, stammering a bit for no clear reason. "She’s had a rough time, and it’s best that she doesn’t see Nico’s face tonight."
"And you think the best thing is that you take her to your room?"
Button’s features went from relaxed to a kind of aggression you had never seen in him. It’s not like you had spent much time or had many conversations together, but you knew the situation you were now involved in wasn’t what you had thought it was.
Edward Patterson stayed completely silent.
"Do you want me to call someone to be with you?" Jenson asked you directly, giving you no other option. "Y/N," he insisted again, "who do you want me to call to stay with you tonight?"
"Britta… please," you said as best as you could despite your discomfort.
To your surprise, while Jenson dialed the phone number of the woman you now considered your friend, Eddie let go of you and reluctantly pushed the driver, still leaning against the elevator frame, to leave. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to you, something that seemed to upset Button quite a bit.
"Hello, is this Britta?" Jenson began, speaking into the phone. "Great, yes. It’s Jenson. I’m with Y/N, and she asked if you could help her," he started explaining. "I don’t know much about what happened, except that she’s not feeling well and needs help from someone she really trusts," he clarified.
After exchanging a few more words, Jenson led you back to the lobby, where Britta appeared just a few minutes later in a bathrobe, espadrilles, and her hair tied up in a completely unusual way. You had never seen Roeske like that, and all you could do was laugh.
"Come on, let’s go already," Britta said, linking her arm with yours as if you were two old ladies heading to bingo. "This is how I want to see you: laughing, not crying."
When Britta opened the door to her room, you immediately ran and threw yourself onto the bed. Your whole body hurt, and you weren’t sure if it was from the emotions of the night or because the alcohol was hitting its peak.
Whatever it was, you knew perfectly well that lying completely still, face up, and counting the total number of tiles on the ceiling, pointing at them one by one with one eye closed and your tongue sticking out was what was making your hostess laugh.
"Come on, Y/N, get up," Britta asked gently. "Do you mind if I help you get changed? It’s time to put on your pajamas."
You nodded as you sat up and moved to the foot of the bed.
Next, Britta unzipped the dress, and you noticed how she averted her gaze to give you some privacy while offering a nightgown.
"Right now, I’d love for Seb to be the one undressing me to fuck me. God... how I’d love Seb to make me scream now..."
Had you said that out loud?
"What did you just say?"
Britta’s muffled shout and the tone in which she asked, while turning her back without caring whether you had already put the garment on, making you realize that yes, you had said that out loud.
Your first time being drunk was going to be, definitely, a night to remember. Now, you just felt like saying those kinds of things, and you didn’t care at all about having a boyfriend… if he could even be called that.
"Oh…" you said, stretching the last syllable. "Didn’t you know it?"
"Know what?"
By the tone of voice, it seemed Britta thought it was related to the sudden thing you had said.
"Seb and I kissed," you told her, starting to laugh like a lovesick teen.
"This is the alcohol on you, I’m sure of it," Britta said, running to get a wet towel and starting to wipe it across your face. "You mean you and Nico kissed," she tried to correct you. "Seb is dating Hanna, and you’re dating Nico, remember?"
You started shaking your head constantly, about to collapse to the floor. A laugh started escaping you as you couldn’t control it.
"No, no, no, no," you denied while also wagging your finger. "Seb and I kissed. Nico’s an asshole."
"Y/N, you really should go to sleep, you’re not..."
"Of course I’m fine!" you said enthusiastically, getting up from the bed and standing in front of Britta.
The truth was that you only felt fine because of the effect alcohol was having on you. If it wasn’t for that, you would be crawling on the floor crying because you knew you had reached a point where you couldn’t pretend your life was perfect anymore.
"Do you really not believe me when I say that not only did Seb kiss me, but it was the best kiss of my life?"
You knew you were putting Britta in a tough spot, especially considering that the woman was probably closer friends with Hanna than with you.
"And Hanna?" Britta demanded to know. "Was she there, or had she left?"
"Oh, she was there?" you tried to pretend the best you could, using expressions that clearly showed otherwise. "I didn’t know..."
Before you could continue speaking, Britta ran to grab her phone and started making calls. You sat back down, crossing your legs and swaying while watching the blonde desperately cursing in German, since none of the contacts she called were answering.
It was possible that Seb and Hanna were busy, probably having sex. Your drunk self only wished she was in Hanna’s place.
"The only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunks, you know?"
Britta stared at you after those words. It seemed like you needed to say that phrase to make her believe you.
"Are you serious...?" Britta asked.
"What, Britta?" you insisted, urging her to speak.
"Did you really kiss Sebastian?"
You nodded.
"Yes," you confirmed. "Well, I mean, he was the one who took my face and kissed me," you corrected yourself. "Do I owe anyone something, like he owes Hanna?"
You were getting a bit defensive, and you knew it was making Britta nervous.
"Yes! You owe Nico, your boyfriend," Britta replied, giving you a harsh dose of reality.
"I don’t want Nico," you confessed. "At least, not in the way I think I should. He... I don’t know, Britta. I think he’s what I deserve. I try to understand why, but I know that his insults and those things he says to me make me a better person somehow."
You could see Britta go pale. Also, you were starting to feel worse; after all, it was the first time you had opened up about your feelings to someone since the journal Seb gifted you for your birthday last didn’t count as a personal therapist.
Britta usually had words for everything, but that day, you seemed to have left her speechless.
"Y/N..." Britta began, carefully choosing her words. "You’re a good person. You’re just scared."
"Maybe," you replied, trying not to make it a big deal. "And you, are you scared?"
"Of course. Everyone’s afraid of something."
"I’m afraid of being alone," you admitted, lowering your head because you were starting to cry again for the umpteenth time that day. "And I’m afraid of losing Nico. I know no one will ever love me, not better or worse, than he does."
Britta didn’t know what to say, and you felt bad for having to be in her room, drunk, sad, while your “friend” was putting up with you, possibly mediating between her client and her client’s partner.
That’s why you made a move to leave. Fortunately, Britta wouldn’t let you.
"Sit down, Y/N, and let it all out," Britta demanded.
And that’s exactly what you did. You told Britta everything, not just about what had happened since you started dating your current boyfriend, but about your entire life. Living with a mentally sick mother after her accident, her subsequent suicide, their move to Barcelona. Her father’s cancer and how it had worsened in less than two years. All the things Rosberg had said and done to you, even forcing you to do certain stuff you were clearly uncomfortable with.
You cried like you never had before when you told Britta about your first time, reluctantly, on a luxury yacht in Monaco’s seas, and how it gave you nightmares almost every night to the point where she was scared to fall asleep.
You could tell that Britta was truly worried when you started biting your lower lip, and a little tic appeared in your right eye.
"Have you talked to anyone about this?"
"Do you know I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her?"
You were fully aware that you had just avoided answering a crucial question, but you didn’t care at all. You were tired of talking about your burdens and your current life; from now on, you would focus entirely on your future and try to solve and finish once and for all all the problems that made your life a mess.
"But what are you saying, Y/N?" Britta asked, desperate.
"That’s exactly what I would have liked to ask Seb, but he left and Nico messed things up," you revealed, stretching your arms out and pointing to the marks, now red, that were the same shape and size as Mercedes’ driver’s fingers. "Great, yeah," you said ironically.
"But..."
"Do you think if I’m not Hanna, and I’ll never be her, I might have a chance to date Seb?"
Your question left Britta speechless again, unable to find the words. As Britta struggled to speak, you started playing with your fingers. Giving up, you laid on the bed, your back to Britta, clutching a pillow with the clear intention of falling asleep.
"Why are you telling me this?" Britta asked in a whisper, almost with... pity.
"Because I want Seb," you revealed, letting out a sob because, at last, you had been able to confront and reveal your confusing feelings for a guy who didn’t love you, and never would. "I’m in love with Seb, and it hurts knowing he’ll never love me back, and I know I’ll have to move on sooner or later."
Britta was about to speak, but you took the words from her before she could.
"Before you say anything else, take advantage of me and ask me anything you want: I’m a bit drunk because I’m not used to drinking."
You could tell Britta sighed, likely having lost all patience with you.
"You know... you know that Seb...?"
But then Britta stopped talking. You stood there for a while, staring at the red curtains that covered the window, waiting for the woman to continue. When she didn’t, you turned around:
"You know exactly what about Seb, Britta?" you asked, adjusting yourself on the bed, still hugging the pillow.
"Seb and you need to talk," Britta told you, leaving you speechless. "And when you do that, I’m convinced that you’re going to live the life you both deserve."
"But..."
Britta started to lie you down on the bed again, tucking you in under the linen sheets. Your yawns became more frequent, and after she kissed your forehead just like her mother used to do before your life was destroyed, your eyelids grew heavy.
"I know you won’t remember this tomorrow," Britta’s voice flooded your ears as you curled up into yourself. "But, to Seb, it’s more than obvious that you’re not Hanna and you’ll never be… And that’s exactly why that stupid, but incredible guy, has fallen truly, madly, deeply, in love with you."
You couldn’t tell if Britta’s words were already a dream, or if Morpheus was pulling you into his arms.
"The day you stop doubting your worth, the world will be at your feet, Y/N. Sebastian has been telling me that and his closest people since you two spent the night together the day before his maiden win in Monza."
#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel fic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#sebastian vettel f1#sebastian vettel x female reader#sebastian vettel x you#history series#sebastian vettel angst#formula 1#f1#sebastian vettel
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Listen I'm a Whore for Positive Feedback
So of course I now want to post more ideas for Military Program Spouse because I want that good good serotonin. So I'm going to try to make a Masterlist for it so I can try to keep track of it. Feel free to ask questions, questions are good
Note; hard limits are the following (meaning I don’t write for them) Piss, Scat, Animal Cruelty, Knife/Blood Play, Rape (cnc toes the line), Wanting to do Actual Serious Harm to your Partner. (This list is likely to expand as I think of more things)
Note note; I try to keep non Drabble asks under mps asks, we’ll see how well that works
Note note note; the only order these are in is the order of which I’ve thought of them and posted lol
Original Idea
A Little Sugar
Welcome to the Crafter Life
Walking Petri Dish
Who’s God Damn Baby its That?
Good Soup
I Don't Know You
General questions
Piiiiiiiiiigs
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I’m fine with people having their own can and what annoys me is when people force other people to become “true fans” and force their form of what they want on other people. As a sequel lover, this was constantly pushed upon me. I was sad is when I remind them that being old enough to remember when the prequel came out and when the backlash was around the previous were well loved to either, but then they put on their nostalgia goggles or welcome them to their face and pretend that they were “always beloved.” Give me a freaking break. I remember when people hated Ahsoka and Hayden and Ahmed Best (so much though that the man almost committed suicide over it.) and Jake Lloyd who was bullied for doing it. Everyone goes through phases of where they hate something, but I am really gotten sick and tired of particularly other social media platforms that act like that they are the authority on what goes on and if you don’t agree with them, then you’re not a “true friend.“ Yeah, sequel lovers can be guilty of that but I’ve seen more prequel and original trilogy lovers do it and they get mean about it. I mean, I’ve been insulted and ridiculed and called all sorts of lovely names that I will not repeat because I have more class than the people who did it and it’s quite frankly exhausting. That’s more more or less I kind of retired from those social media platforms, cause I’m sick of having to do something I like and gave me comfort.
Did I like everything that comes out or have I liked everything that comes out? No. But you know what I don’t do? I don’t take the Internet to rant about it. Yeah Republic commando is my personal punching bag, but I only ridicule the characters and the setting because as I’ve said before in other post, I’ve had personal experience with emotionally manipulative people and I do not like a book that actively promote sexism, racism and xenophobia and a very pernicious anti-religious segment to minority religion.
Arguments about what's canon and what's not in SW fandom are kinda pointless, I know for a fact that every fan has their personal frankensteined version of canon based on what's best for their own blorbos. I love picking up a random licensed book to sneer at half of its ideas and then steal the rest. Some shows and books and comics and whole movies are simply not incorporated into my belief system. That's how we roll
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SLEEPOVER!!
warnings: smoking, making out, ellie calls reader a hoe once but playfully‼️, mention of sex and i think tyats all. IM FROM EUROPE IF ITS BAD IM SORRY LMK OR SMT. NOT PROOFREAD
a.n.: i dont like the begging and i think its going to be a series but it depends if i have a lot of work to do😊
(reader-🩷, ellie-💙) you and ellie dated for a few months now. ellie invited you for a sleepover since her father figure, joel, was out of town for work related things. you were headed to her house after school. you knocked on the heavy, wooden door and waited. you also texted ellie just to be sure. after a few seconds you heard someone unlock the door and open them. then you saw the love of your life with her dog between her legs so she wouldnt run off “come on shimmer.. stay in the house” she grabbed the dog by her collar and pulled her away from the door. “hi cutie!” you walked in and closed the door. first thing you did is sayinh ‘hi’ to ellies dog. “you come over just for shimmer” ellie chuckled and messed with your hair. “thats right” a smirk appeared on your face and you looked up at ellie. she was standing and looking down at you. your crouched figure was playing with her dog. her cheeks blushed at this position but she shook it off. “im so tired” you broke the uncomfortable silence. “wanna take a nap?” ellie smiled and grabbed your bag from tge floor. “yeah… i would love to..” a yawn escaped your mouth and you finally stood up. you couldnt help the urge to hug ellie. you arms wrapped around her and yiur head sinks into her neck. “everything okay, baby?” she asked and wrapped her arms around your waist. “mhm…” you mumbled “im tired” you whined. you really didnt know what was happening. normally you werent so whiny and desperate for her attention. “lets go to my room” ellie rubbed your back with her free hand. you just nodded and pulled away. ellie locked the front door and you both went to her room. her room was filled with posters and pictures with you, jesse, dina and joel. her favorite was next to her bed. it was a pictute of you and her dog sleeping on her bed. you were in one of her shirts. ellie adores this picture. “i don’t understand why you love this photo so much.” you sat on her bed and took the picture in your hands. “i look so weird.” your eyes met her wide eyes. “WHAT” ellie dropped your bag and walked to you “you are so cute in here. so innocent. AND you are with my dog! literally two things i love the most” you just rolled your eyes and took your shoes off. ellie showed you smoking weed but you showed her vapes. you pulled your pink and pretty vape and started smoking. “god this whole day i couldnt smoke” you whined and leaned back. ellie placed the picture on its original place and laid next to you. “whys that?” she looked at you, then your vape and then back at you. you shook your head in disbelief and gave her your vape. “i had so much to do and i couldn’t just go for smoke. it was exhausting.” “poor baby” she siad back and exhaled the smoke. “why is it so hot in your room?” you whined and took your jeans off. you pulled out a pair of sleeping shorts and pulled them on. “i dont know… if i keep it hot in here would you underss even more?” ellie teased. you just rolled your eyes and laid down again. “give me my vape” you mumbled. “and what if i dont?” ellie chuckled and took a puff. “pleaseeeeeeee” you whined and sat up. “you are begging already? someones needy” she teased. she was in some kind of attitude. normally she was more awkward and shy but tonight it was very different. “baby please…” you sat on her hips and tried to get YOUR vape out of her tight grip. “you. mother. fucker.” you struggled. a lot. she took a puff just to tease you. you gasped and kissed her. the smoke filled your mouth as you two shared a kiss. you pulled away and exhaled the remaining smoke from your lungs. “you addicted hoe!” ellie teased. “am not!” you gasped in offense. ellie pulled you into a kiss. The kiss turned into a passionate make out session. You ended up without your shorts and she ended up without her shirt. one of ellies hands were on your thigh and her other one on your lower bavk. your hands wrapped around her neck. after a while you pulled away and tried to catch your breath. PART 2 ???
#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#fanfic#lesbians#the last of us#ellie x you#ellie williams smut#smut#tlou smut
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Just Like Honey
I cannot believe that I did it, but I did it, and the second part is yet to come.
Pairing: Agatha x Non-binary Reader x Rio
Summary: AU. You were invited to a fancy art-exhibition opening where you saw the Green Lady performance; the rest is history.
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: NSFW 18+
this was supposed to be a smut with some plot, but I’m a slowburner. Mommy, daddy kinks, a bit of smoking, tantra, submission, dominance, petnames, orgasm control.
Butt stuff awaits in the next chapter, sorry guys xx
***
You were heading towards the exit the building to take a break from the cramped halls of the museum and have a cigarette. Not that you were an avid smoker, but a friend of yours left her pack at your place the other day, and you felt like a mischievous teen sneaking out—it tickled your fancy, even though you were now almost 30 years old, getting your Ph.D. in psychology, but still not quite believing that you’d made it this far. A grown-ass therapist, helping people with their stuff, yet still having your gay panicky moments when surrounded by gorgeous women at events like this.
It was an opening of an art-exhibition to which you had been invited by your friend who worked there as a curator but she was now busy with her colleagues in the venue’s private lounges, so you were all by yourself. You were enjoying the buzz of the exquisite gathering, but were a little stunned after the performance you had just seen.
A beautiful dark-haired woman in a green sparkling ballet leotard—her arms and legs beautifully adorned with black mesh fabric, ropes and flowers—danced alone in the center of a darkly lit room to the soundtrack of Thom Yorke's Suspiria.
You loved the movie and remembered how it turned you on, particularly the unspoken interaction between Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson’s characters. This performer was nothing alike—there was definitely something witchy about her, but in a different way. She was not subtle at all—like a storm of green fire, she radiated power, so free and uninhibited; her movements and leaps resembled a dance of tribal origins, with dust swirling up as she touched the ground. Heavy breathing stirred all your senses, she smelled of some herbal fragrance, with a dash of amber-musk earthy touch. You stayed close and felt it, causing your cheeks redden, and you instinctively clenched your thighs, as a wave of thrill surged within you. The intense sexual energy in the thick air was overwhelming, and you felt the urge to calm down.
Standing at the museum’s main entrance, you lit the cigarette, took a few puffs and looked around. It was nice outside, with all those glowing neon lights and fog. You took out your phone to snap selfies with your cigarette to tease your social media followers later.
‘These are gonna kill you one day, rock’n’rolla,’ said the raspy voice not far from you.
You were about to respond to such a cliché with a grumpy face, but looked up and saw her.
The woman in her 50s in a fancy dark purple suit was devouring you with her piercing blue eyes. Her purposely disheveled hair with a long, wavy bangs emphasized her mysterious and even fierce gaze. God, she was sexy, exactly your type. You stood there in silence with your burning cigarette, while she grinned.
‘Lovely opening, isn’t it?’ she said, inviting you to a small talk.
‘Yeah, indeed,’ you said with a little tremor in your voice. ‘You know, I don’t actually smoke, it’s just…’ Surprisingly for yourself, you started making excuses like a schoolboy.
‘I was kidding, hon.’ She laughed and came closer. ‘May I?’
‘Sure.’ Ignoring the nickname, that made you feel disoriented, you gently reached toward her side, expecting her to grab the cigarette with her hand. Instead, she inhaled it with her mouth, her lips brushing softly against your fingertips. You were in so much trouble.
‘Agatha Harkness,’ she introduced herself.
‘Y/N, they/them,’ you said, preventing any potential subsequent misunderstandings.
‘I’ll remember that,’ she winked at you and looked you over from head to toe, making you blush.‘Love the shoes!’
‘Thanks…Agatha.’ You smiled and gazed at your worn but timeless Docs. They were a win-win choice to accompany your laidback look with black jacket and jeans with a chain dangling from them. She came closer and playfully touched the chain.
‘You’re a classy, rock’n’rolla, aren’t you? You must be an artist?’
‘No, no, I’m just…a tourist. My friend is working there, she invited me.’
‘I see,’ Agatha was inspecting you with her languid eyes.
You were trying to do your best and continue the small talk. God, you were so bad at this, but this time your gut was telling you to buckle up, treat the woman with respect, and make words into sentences. She was so magnetic, you were willing to do anything not to bore or spook her away. You were ready to do anything overall and to follow her anywhere.
‘What about you? Are you here by yourself?’ you asked.
‘My wife is performing tonight, and I have a penchant for contemporary art. A philanthropist, so to speak. What’s your thing?’
Something dropped inside you, as you heard about the wife. But Agatha looked so alluring, still staring at you: she approached your hand with a cigarette once again and ghosted your fingers with her lips, giving you shivers.
‘I’m a therapist actually. I fancy different forms of arts, but this time it was the performance that hit right in the heart. Have you seen it? The one with the dancing green lady?’
‘I did. Many times.’
‘Many times? I thought it was a special thing for the opening…’
‘Rio, the green lady, she’s my wife,’ Agatha smirked.
Fucking hell, no way. You couldn’t hide the redness in your cheeks any more and you bet she noticed.
‘Wow, I mean…she’s really good.’
‘She is. I’m glad that you loved it,’ she smiled suspiciously.
‘So, Y/N, do you wanna get back or take a stroll with me?’
‘I…what about Rio?’
‘Ah, Rio is having an after-party with a group of artists later tonight.’
‘Won’t you join her?’
‘I’m too old for such things—
‘You’re not old,’ you interrupt her. ‘You are—
‘I am what?’
‘You’re…a vision.’
‘That’s cute, thank you,’ she bit her lip, pleased with your compliment. ‘So are you coming with me or not?’
You vigorously nodded. She flipped her lush hair back over her shoulder, adjusted her jacket and said teasingly:
‘Come, pet!’
It was impertinent, to say the least. You were taken aback with this new nickname, but followed her anyway. Agatha seemed to be full of secrets that were eager to be revealed.
***
You were walking down the alley together, talking about art and her business. You were so curious, you wanted to know everything about the woman. It turned out that she was in charge of many of the upscale contemporary art exhibitions around the world, and she enjoyed having authority while guiding her teams. Needless to say, she was rich, maybe even get-away-with-murder rich, but when discussing her work, she expressed herself with a great deal of passion–it wasn't merely about money, but rather about the beauty she wanted to share globally. That was incredibly powerful.
The faint glow of the lanterns barely lit up the fallen autumn leaves beneath your feet; with the air being crisp and chilly, you raised the collar of your jacket and hugged yourself tightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Agatha, so she put her hand on your back, caressing you warmly. Unintentionally, you curved your back a bit, enjoying her gentle touch.
‘Look at you, poor thing, you’re shivering! Let’s get you home, I need you alive.’
You blushed again but didn’t hesitate. To be frank, you loved being taken care of, especially by older women.
You followed her to her car and dropped your jaw—an exquisite purple Mercedes with a slick, shiny hood and graceful outline was waiting for you; the muffled sound of a running engine and the headlights flashing enticingly. A slender girl in a leather jacket and a chauffeur's hat emerged from the driver’s seat and opened the rear doors for you both.
‘This is Lee, my bodyguard. Lee, this is Y/N, let’s take them wherever they tell you to go and then we’ll head home. Mommy needs her sleep.’ Agatha sighed looking at you to ensure you heard her one-liner.
You got turned on in a second and felt already wet; your cunt was aching, being aroused just by the word alone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ shortly answered Lee, and glanced at you from the rear-view mirror with a cold demeanour.
You muttered the address to the car dynamic and looked sideways.
‘Don’t worry, hon, Lee is my person of trust. She’s very protective and just does her job well, making sure my family is safe as kittens, that’s right, Lee?’
Lady in black nodded and fixed her eyes on a road, a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
‘At what time should I pick up Rio, ma’am?’
‘I bet she’s partying all night, so just park somewhere in the area on your ride back; she will call you.’ Agatha said a little worriedly, biting her lip.
‘Roger that.’
They both seemed suspicious but you thought that it would be inappropriate to ask Agatha about her partner right now. You didn’t want to interfere with their relationship, despite Agatha assuring you that it was fine for the two of you to hang out.
‘Rio is a little out of control sometimes, you know,’ Agatha said as if she could read you mind. ‘Once they went into the woods and had a bonfire with fireworks, Rio’s idea. It was a restricted area, so I had to clean up the mess and deal with the police. When she parties nonstop, I lose control and worry. And I hate being worried.’
‘It’s okay to worry when you love someone, don’t be too hard on yourself,’ you said.
‘Thank you, doc,’ she smirked and stroked your thigh.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shrink you,’ you said, melting by her touch.
‘It’s fine, I just wanted to call you ‘doc’, it turns me on.’
You giggled nervously, trying to gather a response, but couldn’t think of anything and turned your face away from her in embarrassment.
Suddenly Agatha moved closer to you and tucked your short hair behind your ear; she stopped her fingers on your earlobe, rubbing it gently. You closed your eyes and moaned faintly. She enjoyed watching how easily you trembled under her touch. The car was slowing down and you saw the features of your house through the window.
‘Turn around, pet. I want your beautiful eyes to look at me now,’ the woman commanded. You couldn’t resist her low strict voice. You wanted to obey her.
‘That’s a good pet, look at me, talk to me. Is it okay when I call you so?’ Agatha was holding your chin, her gaze was serious.
‘Yes,’ you mumbled.
‘Not quite the answer. Say it again.’
‘Yes, Agatha.’
‘Nah-ah. Try harder. You know the answer.’
‘Yes…Mommy.’
‘Well done, pet,’ she bestowed you with a warm smile and pecked your cheek. ‘Now give me your phone number, I’ll text you soon.’
***
And just like that, it took up almost all of your brain cells for the weekend—a VIP purple lounge embellished with poison ivy exuding an amber-sandalwood scent. You googled Agatha, but it was pointless—people like her tended to stay in the shadows savouring their power in other ways.
Rio Vidal, on the other hand, was easy to find. She was a prodigy dancer and had hundreds of instagram followers. God, how sublime she was, looking from photos straight into the camera with her brown eyes giving the evil witchy gaze, the same you saw at her performance. She was insanely hot and intimidating at the same time. You were scrolling her page carefully, trying not to accidentally like any photo—you were still uncertain about what kind of relationship they had and you definitely didn’t want someone like Rio to turn into your enemy.
Your phone didn’t make a sound during the whole weekend, and you were about to admit that all of this was just a delusional dream, that probably Rio came back home the other day, they had a conversation, and Agatha deleted your number for good, giving preference to her family. That made sense, albeit frustrating, as your imagination had already conjured vivid images of Agatha touching you, controlling you, calling you nicknames and teasing you until you beg for her mercy.
comepetlookatmepetgoodpetmommyneedshersleeppetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpet
Jeez, just a brief thought of it made your stomach churn in seconds. And truthfully, as much as you hated to say it, Rio crossed your mind as well. In fact, you were craving both of them to make your wildest dreams come true, and you were ready to go to great lengths to get the unachievable; you were dying of hunger and lust. But you couldn’t do a thing about it. It was burning you inside out.
On Monday, you worked with your clients in a cabinet, doing your best not to let your mind interfere with your therapy process. You were doing this for a long time, so normally your personal life stayed aside, and you would easily go into meta-position, all senses on a client and their session. But today was challenging as hell, and you were waiting for your supervision to let it all out from your chest and move on for good.
During a break, you went outside for a smoke—it evoked recent memories and made you feel things. You closed your eyes and pictured Agatha’s lips on your fingertips. Was in even real? Or was it a spell casted by the green witch dancing to Volk in the dusty room? Fuck, it ached so much, and also turned you on, just thinking of that Friday evening. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Your heart raced, and you felt fever all over your body.
Hey bro, sorry for leaving you alone! Did you have fun?
Such a bummer. Finally, your friend remembered your existence, but right now you didn’t give a flying fuck.
That was a blast, thanks again for the invite!
You were ready to throw your useless phone somewhere out of sight and forget about it until the end of the working day. You were furious, to say the least.
***
In the evening, when you came back home, you couldn’t help but open Rio’s instagram page again. As if something there would give you a clue why the fuck Agatha was torturing you. Yes, you knew you had no right to judge; being a homewrecker never was in your plans, but still—she gave you a promise, and you believed her. At least one text…You couldn’t accept that you were played like a teen, and you hated it so much, being trapped by her looks, teasing nicknames, and touches. God, you’d give up everything to feel her touch on your skin again.
Mommy please…
All of a sudden you lost your patience and felt brave enough to open Rio’s stories. It’s not stalking if a person is a celebrity, is it? After all, she had numerous followers, so it was unlikely she recognized you among the crowd based on your avatar.
There were some reposts about yoga or tantric classes, nothing that would give you any information…well, it was worth a try. You closed the page, sighed with a bittersweet relief and laughed at yourself. What am I doing? Just put yourself together, delulu.
Just then, your phone vibrated, and you noticed a new number in the preview. You quickly sprang out of bed as if it were on fire.
You didn’t forget about Mommy, did you?
OH MY GOD. You smiled to yourself like an idiot and screamed in high-pitched voice, covering your mouth with a palm of your hand. Fuck. What should I say. Sweet suffering Jesus. You couldn’t believe that it was happening, but somehow you put your shit together and came up with a suitable response.
I don’t remember anything else.
Good pet. What do you think about coming over on Friday evening to our place?
It would be a pleasure!
I’ll send Lee to pick you up at 8PM, be ready.
Yes!
Wrong answer.
Yes, Mommy
;)
You laughed at the old-fashioned smile she sent, but thought that it was cute. You counted days until Friday, so desperate to see her again. There was just one tiny mystery regarding ‘our place’ in her message.
Does it mean that Rio would be there too? Or does it refer to ‘our house’ meaning the place where they live? Will Rio be out? Does she know?
Thoughts were racing in your head, but you were too anxious to ask in advance. And, frankly speaking, you always loved surprises.
***
On Friday evening at exactly 8 PM, the same purple car pulled up to your house, and Lee briefly waved to you with her hand, the same pokerface though.
You sat beside her, deciding that it would be more comfortable to avoid eye contact. She still seemed to be somewhat scary. It was an awkward silence for a while.
‘It's a 30-minute ride, so feel free to play some music if you like.’
You gladly accepted, and she handed you the chord. You picked something neutral, and ‘Shadow’ by Chromatics began to play from the Mercedes' speakers.
‘You have a good taste, Y/N.’
‘Thanks, Lee,’ you answered a bit surprised that she remembered your name.
***
They lived out of town; the car parked in front of a big house, which resembled one of those from thrillers featuring families living in chic houses with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, observed by serial killers. Elegant minimalism with a lovely garden.
As you walked through the gates, your heart raced with excitement. She was standing there, arms crossed and head tilted. Those stunning hair, with a flawless dark-brown balayage. She gave you a wink and your cunt instantly reacted and flowed.
‘Nice to see you again, rock’n’rolla,’ Agatha smiled.
‘Thanks for having me. Your house is amazing!’
‘You haven’t even seen what’s inside. Come, pet, Rio can’t wait to meet you.’
Your eyes widened in shock as you gasped in confusion—Agatha placed her hand on your back to reassure you.
‘Hi, I’m Rio!’
A striking woman in total black appeared in the grand hallway, seemingly appearing from thin air. You began to wonder if she might actually be a witch.
‘Pleasure to meet you, I’m Y/N,’ you replied nervously, extending your hand for a shake unable to come up with anything better.
‘I heard! Agatha told me that you watched me dancing and you loved it, didn’t you?’ Rio approached closely, giving you the wildest seductive smile, then grasped your hand tightly and led you into the living room. You smelled the familiar earthy scent she’d worn before. Oh god.
You and Agatha were sitting on a blue velvet couch around a coffee table filled with snacks, soft drinks, and fruit of all kinds. Rio was gracefully laying on the fluffy carpet before you, leisurely putting a cherry into her mouth, and you couldn't take your eyes off this little spectacle. It looked like she was intentionally teasing you, leaving you unsure if you needed Agatha's consent to gaze at her wife that way.
‘Do you know anything about tantra, Y/N?’ she asked you, looking at Agatha sideways, as if they’d be having a silent conversation the whole time.
‘I…well, not much, to be honest,’ you muttered.
‘I bet you’ll love it! You know, it’s my new thing apart from dancing. We planned something special for today, and it’s absolutely magical,’ she playfully raised her eyebrows and smirked.
I see, everything about you two is magical.
Agatha observed you the entire time, and you were sitting there red-faced, drenched in desire, unsure how to act. You didn't dare look at Agatha at that moment, felt guilty about being so attracted to Rio, yet it was beyond your control.
‘You’re blushing, sweetheart, is everything alright?’ Agatha traced her fingers down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.
‘Yeah…I’m good,’ you answered looking down, studying the carpet patterns.
‘Look me in the eye, when I’m talking to you, pet,’ she said harshly.
You were startled, but you obeyed. A smile appeared on her strict face as she stroked your cheekbone. She narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue.
‘They are so beautiful, aren’t they, Rio?’ Agatha said moving her face closer to yours.
‘You have impeccable taste, my love,’ said Rio, sucking on a berry.
You could hear the sound of her tongue slurping, but now you were sure you would need Agatha’s permission to gaze at Rio. Anyway, now you were staring at Agatha’s face in admiration—her stern eyebrows, her pale skin, lovely crinkles around her eyes when she was smiling, prominent jawline and those delicious kissable red lips. How badly you wanted to kiss them. She smelled of wood and bergamot; it was a heavy perfume that made you feel a bit dizzy, but you wanted to drown in her deep waters with dangerous waves. You longed to be swallowed whole by her.
‘Lee told me you're a melomaniac, do you have any suggestions for our playlist? By the way, you can look at Rio now, if you want to, hon,’ Agatha caressed your cheek once more, giving you her approval.
You couldn't tell if the whole situation was scaring you or turning you on, but something was pushing you to take action. Use it or lose it.
You took out your phone and linked it to the speaker.
Madi Sipes ‘Somebody’s daughter’ started playing in the background:
Somebody’s daughter’s calling me daddy, so I get on my knees, I’ll do everything for you…
‘Ooh who’s your daddy, little one?’ Rio laughed, looking at you with her brown cherry eyes.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I just love this songwriter, they have a deep voice and dreamy melodies,’ you said nervously and started flushing again.
‘She’s fucking with you, rock’n’rolla,’ said Agatha and gently ghosted her fingers down the back of your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure and took a deep breath.
‘Not yet, darling,’ Rio replied and giggled loudly. ‘By the way, shouldn’t we prepare to tantra, don’t you think, babe?’ She said looking at her wife.
‘Okay, I’ll let you borrow Y/N to prepare cocoa and I’ll be waiting for you both in the parlor,’ Agatha commanded, looking at Rio, ‘and no funny business.’
***
You went to the kitchen and Rio explained that cocoa thing to you.
‘They usually drink it before tantric sessions, you know, to stimulate creative energy, to let it all go…that sort of thing,’ she said cryptically.
‘And what exactly are we going to do?’ You wondered.
‘We’ll see! You never can say for sure how a session will go, but from my experience, it’s all about pleasure, which is why I love tantra. Simply switch off that clever mind of yours and rely on your gut feelings,’ she said, filling the cups with hot cocoa.
Oh, that’s risky. You approached the kitchen island to take the tray.
‘Just so you know,’ she whispered in your ear and licked it slowly, ‘I’m the daddy in this house.’
You were so doomed, but there was no turning back. The game was on, full force.
You carried the cocoa cups while Rio guided you to the parlor, which in fact was a dim red room with soft carpet, candles, a gong and a faint scent of Palo Santo. Soft meditative music gently filled the space.
‘This is my territory, so I’m in charge here, and you should listen and follow my instructions,’ Rio declared.
Agatha frowned slightly and grinned at her while Rio awkwardly chuckled.
‘Don’t be so tense, baby, I know you’ll love it.’
The dynamics of their relationship were still a mystery for you, but it was tantalizing and you were ready for anything at this point.
‘With the powers of darkness, whore-ness and slut-ness, let the ceremony begin!’ Rio said grotesquely. You struggled not to burst into laughter, marvelling at how hilarious and confident she was being.
You were drinking cocoa, seated comfortably on the floor in a small circle and closing your eyes. Rio said something about a request that each of you should formulate in your head without sharing it. Tonight you dreamed of only one thing. One that would involve the three of you and hopefully last for a long time.
Than the music became louder, you stood up and began swaying with your eyes shut, slow-dancing, stretching your bodies. Rio was leading you throughout.
‘Let’s chose the person who will be in the center,’ she said. ‘So we work with their request.’
Agatha pointed at you and the choice was made.
You stood in between them, still trying to understand where this was going.
‘Calm your body, shut your eyes, don’t say a word and focus on your desire. Let us know if anything bothers you, but show it with your body language, and we'll halt.’
You quietly nodded, taking a deep breath.
‘Actually, you know what, let’s take a little precaution,’ said Rio, blindfolding you with a silky tissue.
It was somewhat like an enchanting journey, and you still struggled to believe it was real. A soft but steady hand was brushing your hair, caressing your head slowly, sending delightful shivers down your spine. The other woman's hands moved over your body from your shoulders to your hips, ankles, and feet with intense pleasure. The sensation was so thrilling that you pleaded for her not to stop, not ever.
They were moving circles around you, uttering incomprehensible words; it felt like meditation taken to a different dimension infused with incantations and a flow of sexual energy coursing through your body, making your skin tingle.
Unexpectedly, the meditation playlist shifted its mood, and you could hear ‘Just Like Honey’ filled the air with the speakers. It all felt like honey indeed, and you found yourself shamelessly immersed in it.
They drew nearer, their bodies were touching yours, growing warmer and more intimate with each movement. The women started slow-dancing around you, wrapping your body with theirs, you could feel Agatha’s hands on your hips, her hair touching your face, Rio’s nails inspecting your back and her intense breath on your neck—you were over the moon, ready to die of a great deal of pleasure, you wanted more of it and moaned very loud, not realising it. Usually, you were a slow burner, but everything you had experienced before couldn’t hold a candle to this magical ritual and you felt like you were about to cum from just their subtle touches. Now you were truly convinced to be conjured by the witches; ready to serve them and be their whore for life.
They pressed they hips against yours, swaying to the beat of the music. They were so close to you, but not close enough, they were torturing you: Agatha ghosted the tip of her nose over yours, while Rio was running her tongue along the inside of your palm. You groaned with painful desire.
‘Shhh, not yet, be a good pet for Mommy,’ you heard Agatha’s husky voice in extreme proximity to your ear, and felt your pussy clenching and dripping again.
‘Mommy please…’ you moaned against her lips. ‘I want you so bad, I want both of you so bad, I’m gonna die…’
‘Patience, sweetheart,’ Rio whispered as she nibbled at your earlobe. ‘We’re not done with our spell yet.’
They were ghosting your whole body with their hands, giving you soft kisses from head to toes, whispering:
Look at you, our pet
In our hands, melting like a candle
Forget everything you knew before
Give yourself to us
Surrender to us completely
Mommy and daddy will take care of you
Mommy and daddy will fuck you all night
Mommy and daddy will fill all your holes
You will cum for mommy and daddy
Only when they let you
Agatha removed the smooth scarf from your head, gazing into your eyes with a seductive smile as her hand gently rested on your chin. Rio approached her gracefully, nuzzling against you like a sleek black cat, her hand securely placed on your waist. She kissed Agatha harshly, driven by desire and fervor, their lips and tongues intertwining in rhythm, while their arms embraced you from either side as if you were their property. You were hypnotized watching them kiss right in front of you; their beckoning velvet skin bathed in the warm red glow of the magical parlor room.
‘Wanna join, rock’n’rolla?’ They parted in a kiss for a fleeting moment before looking at you with desire, drawing your face towards theirs and inviting you to kiss them together, all at once.
You felt their tongues playing with yours, and the three of you moved in perfect harmony, as if you’d been doing it for eternity. A wave of anticipation surged within you, making your cunt squeeze over and over, but you knew it was just the warm-up.
***
#Agatha all along#agatha all along fic#agatha x rio x reader#agatha x reader#rio x reader#agatha x rio kiss#agatha harkness#Agathario#rio vidal x agatha harkness#Rio Vidal#rio vidal x reader#agathario x reader#agatha all along au#agathario fanfic#kathryn hahn x aubrey plaza#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza
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