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moonlightwritingf1 · 14 hours ago

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The Sweet Surprise | LN4

⋆˚✿˖° summary ━━━━━━━ Lando finds Y/N's sex toy

⋆˚✿˖° pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˚✿˖° word count ━━━━━━━ 2.7k

⋆˚✿˖° warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Based on this request.

It was a quiet Friday evening in London, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set. Inside her apartment, Y/N was still at work, wrapped up in her typical 9-to-5 routine. The familiar hum of her laptop screen and the rustle of papers were the only sounds filling the space. But there was something different in the air today, something she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps it was the way the evening light seemed to make the room feel a little warmer, or maybe it was the anticipation of the surprise she knew was coming.

Lando had always been a bit unpredictable when it came to their time together. After weeks of gentle teasing and persistent gifts, she had finally agreed to go on a date with him—six dates, to be precise. Each one had brought them closer, the chemistry undeniable, the tension palpable. Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was just playing with her. She wasn’t sure whether he was serious about her or simply enjoying the chase. And as much as she tried to convince herself that she wasn’t falling for him, she couldn’t ignore the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Tonight, she had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that Lando was coming over, and he had promised her a surprise.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

She opened the door to find Lando standing there, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his hands was a box, carefully wrapped with a ribbon. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said, his voice low, yet teasing. “I brought you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feeling a sudden wave of curiosity. “What’s this?”

Lando grinned mischievously. “You’ll see. Open it.”

Inside the box was a cake—no ordinary cake, but the one from her favorite bakery. The one she had mentioned in passing months ago, how she rarely got the chance to have it because it was always sold out. Lando had somehow managed to secure a special order, paying extra for the bakery to make it just for her.

“You actually got it?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise. “How did you even—”

“I have my ways,” he said with a wink. “But you deserve something special. I figured this would be the perfect treat.”

Her heart warmed at the gesture. She hadn’t expected something so thoughtful. “You really went all out.”

“I would do anything for you,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “I hope you like it.”

They sat down together, savoring the rich layers of the cake, the sweetness of the moment matching the sweetness of the dessert. The conversation flowed easily, the two of them slipping into a comfortable rhythm. The tension between them was undeniable, but they both danced around it—teasing, flirting, but never crossing the line.

After they finished their cake, Y/N stood up to put the remaining slices in the fridge. As she did, Lando leaned back in his chair, watching her with that familiar glint in his eyes.

“So,” Lando said casually, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched her put away the leftover cake. His tone was smooth, almost too casual. “Do you have the book you promised me?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, momentarily confused. “Book?”

“Yes, the one you said I absolutely have to read,” he replied, smirking. “You said it’s in your room.''

“Oh!” Y/N’s eyes widened as realization struck. “Right. That book.”

He chuckled softly, amused by how easily distracted she was. “Where is it?”

“It’s on my nightstand,” she said, closing the fridge door. “You can grab it. I think it’s on top of the stack.”

“Sure,” Lando said, pushing off the counter and heading toward her bedroom.

Y/N didn’t think twice about it. Why would she? The book was exactly where she said it was, and her room was relatively tidy—at least, she thought it was. She turned back to the counter, wiping it down absentmindedly as her mind wandered to the cake he had surprised her with.

Meanwhile, Lando stepped into her room, his gaze immediately falling on the nightstand. The book was there, just as she’d said, but his attention didn’t stay on it for long.

Because there, on the bed, lying in plain sight, was something far more attention-grabbing: her dildo.

He blinked, taken aback for a second, before a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. Of all the things he’d expected to find, this was certainly not one of them.

“Did you find it?” Y/n called out from the kitchen, her voice carrying a casual tone as she slid the remaining slice of cake into the fridge. The sweet aroma of vanilla and buttercream lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of Lando’s cologne that seemed to follow him everywhere.

Silence.

“Lando?” she tried again, this time tilting her head toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. Her heart began to thud softly in her chest, a nervous flutter she couldn’t quite explain. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and stepped into the hallway, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor.

When she reached her bedroom door, she froze.

Lando was standing by her bed, his back to her, shoulders tense. His gaze was fixed on something on the mattress, something Y/n had completely forgotten about until now. Her dildo.

Oh God. Her stomach dropped. Heat rushed to her cheeks, spreading down her neck and across her chest. How could I forget? Earlier that day, after a particularly steamy session in the shower, she’d left it there, too lost in her own thoughts to remember to put it away.

“Uh…” she started, her voice barely audible. “I can explain…”

Lando turned slowly, his blue/ green eyes darkening as they met hers. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t mocking—it was hungry. “Explain what?” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off a spoon. “That you like to keep things… handy?”

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, trying to will away the embarrassment. “It’s not what you think,” she muttered, though even she knew how weak that sounded.

Lando took a step closer, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bed. “Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with something deeper. Something raw. He picked up the toy, turning it over in his hands as if inspecting it. “Impressive size,” he added, his smirk widening. “Guess you don’t settle for less, huh?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Could you not?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Why? Embarrassed?” He closed the distance between them, stopping just inches from her. His free hand reached out, gently tugging one of hers away from her face. “You shouldn’t be.”

His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that made her breath catch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, searching his for any hint of judgment. But all she found was… desire.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. “Do you really think I care about that?” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “If anything, it just makes me wonder… What else are you hiding behind that tough-girl act of yours?”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. This was dangerous. Too dangerous. She’d spent months keeping him at arm’s length, convincing herself he wasn’t serious, that he didn’t see her the way she secretly hoped he did. But now, with him so close, with his words unraveling her defenses, she wasn’t sure she could hold back anymore.

“I’m not hiding anything,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Bullshit,” he said bluntly, his tone firm yet gentle. “You’re always hiding, Y/n. Behind your sarcasm, your independence, your I-don’t-need-anyone attitude. But I see you. I always have.”

Her breath hitched. No one had ever talked to her like this, stripped her bare with just a few words. It terrified her. And yet…

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “And what if you don’t like what you see?”

He paused, his expression softening. Slowly, he set the toy down on the nightstand and cupped her face in his hands. His touch was so tender, so genuine, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I already do,” he said, his voice steady. “Every single part of you.”

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit. But there was none. Just honesty. And something else… something that made her knees weak.

“Lando…” she breathed, her resolve crumbling.

He didn’t wait for her to finish. His lips crashed onto hers, the kiss fierce and hungry, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. Y/n gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively clutching the front of his shirt. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, and she melted into him, every thought, every doubt, vanishing in an instant.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. “Stop running from me,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Let me in.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body trembling with the weight of his words. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of her mind.

“What if I’m not enough for you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling her face. “You already are,” he said firmly. “You always have been.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity. For the first time in months, maybe even years, she let herself believe it.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and he kissed her again, this time slower, more tender. Their bodies pressed together, heat building between them, until neither of them could think straight.

“Bed,” Lando murmured against her lips, his voice husky.

She nodded, her heart racing as he guided her backward, their movements clumsy yet frantic. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, she fell onto it, pulling him down with her. He hovered above her, his eyes burning with desire as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare.”

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a searing path of heat as his fingers gently traced the curve of her waist. Y/n’s breath hitched, her mind still reeling from the intensity of their kiss. She could feel the weight of him above her, the warmth of his body pressing into hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

His hand slid lower, brushing against her thigh, and she instinctively parted her legs, inviting him closer. But instead of continuing where she expected, Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with mischief as he glanced toward the bed. Her cheeks flushed when she realized what—or rather, who—he was looking at.

The dildo. Still lying there, shamelessly exposed.

“So…” Lando drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Is this how you spend your Friday nights?”

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my God, can we just forget about that?”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Why would I want to forget?” His fingers brushed over her wrist, prying her hands away from her face so he could look into her eyes. “I think it’s hot.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Hot? The idea of him finding something like that attractive made her stomach flip in the most delicious way. But before she could say anything, Lando reached for the toy, holding it up between them with a smirk.

“You know,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence, “I could give you a much better experience than this.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as she processed his words. “W-what are you saying?”

Instead of answering, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Let me show you.”

A wave of heat surged through her, pooling at her core. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all she could do was nod weakly as Lando moved down her body, his hands trailing along her skin. He pushed her dress higher, exposing her thighs, and she tensed slightly, her nerves getting the better of her.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the wicked grin on his face. “Just let me take care of you.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched him position himself between her legs. His gaze locked with hers, and he held up the dildo, his expression daring her to stop him. With deliberate precision, he slid her panties to the side, exposing her to him fully. But she didn’t stop him. She couldn’t. The anticipation was too intense, the desire too overwhelming.

When the cool silicone touched her bare skin, she gasped, her hips arching instinctively. Lando’s free hand pressed against her hip, holding her steady as he teased her with the toy, tracing slow, deliberate circles around her most sensitive spot.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

All she could manage was a whimper, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. The sensation was maddening, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through her body. And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pressed the tip of the dildo against her entrance, slowly pushing it inside.

Her back arched off the bed, a moan escaping her lips as she felt herself stretching to accommodate it. Lando’s eyes never left her face, watching intently as he began to move it in and out, setting a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Fuck,” she breathed, her head falling back against the pillow. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before—the coldness of the toy contrasting with the heat of his touch, the way he seemed to know exactly how to move to drive her wild.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lando murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Completely undone.”

She opened her eyes, locking gazes with him, and saw the raw desire in his expression. It sent a thrill through her, knowing that she was the one who had put that look on his face. Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down for a bruising kiss.

Their lips clashed together, messy and desperate, as he continued to work the dildo inside her. The dual sensations were almost too much—the deep, filling pressure of the toy combined with the soft, insistent movements of Lando’s tongue against hers.

“More,” she begged against his mouth, her voice trembling with need.

He obliged without hesitation, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts until she was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Every nerve in her body was alight, every inch of her skin on fire. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I-I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender. “Let go.”

And just like that, she shattered. Pleasure exploded through her, white-hot and all-consuming, as her body convulsed around the toy. Lando held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

When she finally came down, her chest heaving and her limbs boneless, Lando set the dildo aside and shifted to lay beside her. He brushed her damp hair from her face, his eyes soft with affection.

“See?” he said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction. “Told you I’d do better.”

She laughed breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again. “Okay, fine. You win.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in to capture her lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but no less passionate. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with mischief once more.

“But don’t think for a second I’m done with you yet.”

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thewitchblue · 2 days ago

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"You know, in the animal kingdom, this rock would be a proposal."

Tim mused as he took it from your hands. Don't ask how he knows penguins and otters give rocks to show affection and also mate for life. He was in a rabbit hole after the first rock you gave him. You said slowly,

"Tim... humans propose with rocks."

Tim gave a distracted hum as he eyed the rock you gave him. You found a rock that you said was "pretty like his eyes." A beautiful blue agate you found near a lake when you went swimming a few days ago.

It didn't even register in his brain what you said. He was too distracted by the rock you gave him. He turned it over in his hand and marvelled at the beautiful shimmer it produced.

"Yeah, but this is a rock rock. Not a diamond."

He said. His eyes turned to you again. You looked incredibly amused. A rock rock? You wanted to laugh. You've been giving him rocks for the entirety of your friendship. It's become your thing to randomly hand him a rock.

You're hoping one day he'll realise that the rock means you are interested in him romantically, but you were starting to doubt it will ever happen, or maybe he's simply ignoring the message.

"Give it back if it's just a rock then."

You knew he wouldn't give you the rock. He hoarded everything you gave him like a squirrel hoarding its nuts for the winter.

"No take backs."

He replied as he held the stone closer to his chest. You laughed at his suddenly very protective stance. It's adorable seeing him turn into a pouty toddler.

"Stop being cute or I'm going to vomit."

Jason said as he passed into the kitchen. He says that as if he doesn't internally smile at the cute duo. He can't help his romantic heart from its love for love, as much as it annoys him.

You were so amused by Tim's fascination. It's like this every time you give him a rock. He has a full rock collection at this point, all gifted from you. He never stopped to think about why you give him all the pretty and rare stones. He accepts every stone with as much love and adoration, even the plain ones that you grabbed while hanging out with him.

Tim smiled as he said,

"I might turn this into a ring."

He really loved your rock giving. He wanted to memorialise your special gift giving. He's grown to love rocks because of you.

"Are you saying you would say yes if I proposed right here, right now?"

You asked. It was a bold move to ask him such a question, but a necessary one at this point.

"Yes."

He said confidently. Jason shook his head and sighed at his oblivious brother. He's stupid not to see how obvious you were. Where is his brain when it comes to personal relationships? Jason started eating the granola bar he stole when Alfred wasn't looking. He wanted to watch the show about to happen.

You shrugged and casually said,

"We're engaged then."

It took Tim a minute to comprehend what you said. Did he hear you correctly? What just happened? Are you skipping straight to marriage without dating him? He was extremely confused.

Jason was also confused, but more about why you decided it would be a good idea to propose, especially so casually. He knew you were smitten, but now is kind of a bad time to randomly propose. You completely skipped the romantic build-up. Tim asked,

"Wait, what?"

You smiled fondly at him. You knew he'd be confused, but you were getting annoyed with him not taking the hint. You repeated,

"We're engaged now."

It took a minute for him to realise how serious you actually were. You stared at each other as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

"You're not joking?"

He said in a mystified tone. You shook your head.

"Nope."

What does he even say to something like that? It came out of nowhere, in his eyes. He stated plainly,

"You skipped dating me."

You shrugged. You've had a crush on him for well over two years. You've done all the couple things aside from kissing. Why not propose? The dating was never going to happen at the rate of which you were going. You said,

"I don't care. Do you?"

He looked at you with a serious expression for a moment. You weren't kidding about this proposal in the slightest. His eyes turned back to the rock. He supposes an agate is a gemstone, which he could definitely turn into a pair of engagement rings.

He decided he didn't care about skipping the dating phase. It saves him the effort of planning a proposal further down the line anyway. He shrugged and said,

"Okay."

Jason didn't know what just happened. Did Tim seriously get engaged before his eyes? And accept? Is the wedding going to be as equally unusual? What did he just witness? His brother is an anomaly. Jason said,

"I'm telling Dick."

It sounded like a threat, but Tim didn't care. He knew the future him was going to care when Dick dramatically announced the engagement, but that's not a problem for now.

You kissed him for the first time and almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. You're engaged! You never thought this would happen!

Jason gagged and left, but you could make out the tiny smile on his face. He was happy for his brother. Finally.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT ENGAGED?!"

Dick screamed when he found out the news. Poor Bruce was trying to take a nap in the background. Tim made it to the doorway before Dick was on him like a shark in the water.

Tim was still holding his engagement rock and cradled the rock closer to his chest. If Dick is going to get mad, he's going down protecting this rock. He said offhandedly,

"Don't make it a big deal. We haven't even turned our rock into rings yet."

Tim and you had both decided to use the agate as your matching rings. It was a large enough gemstone after you both researched how big a rock had to be to become a ring, and Tim found a shop in Gotham who could do it. You were moving fast, sure, but he was certain he wanted to spend forever with you.

Dick was floored. He couldn't believe how casual Tim is about getting engaged. There was seemingly no thought put behind getting engaged. Dick said,

"Don't make it a big deal? Tim, you are about to get married! This is a huge deal!"

Tim smiled fondly. He's going to get married! The reality hit him in that moment. He's excited. He had not even thought you could feel the same way he did despite all the signs. All the rocks, all the hugs, all the times you held his hand and cuddled with him but nobody else. You could not have been more obvious.

"What's this about an engagement?"

Bruce asked groggily. He was used to waking up to screaming, but certainly not to an engagement. Who got engaged? Probably Jason. He definitely would hide a relationship from Bruce and get married before ever showing them.

"Timothy Jackson Drake got engaged without telling anyone! I had to find out through Jason!"

Dick sounded accusatory. He was hurt. Jason found out about it before he did. He's supposed to be the best big brother of all time. Tim quickly defended his actions,

"We've been engaged for an hour!"

Bruce muttered, about to fall asleep again,

"That's nice."

The words set in a moment later. He hesitantly opened his eyes and turned his head to face the bickering duo. He didn't sit up from his position on the couch, however.

"Wait. Tim? Not Jason?"

Dick looked at Bruce in pure confusion. Jason isn't even dating anybody. How would he get engaged? Then again, neither was Tim. Tim just skipped straight to marriage.

"Yeah. Tim."

Bruce eyed Tim for a long while. He asked,

"When did you start dating?"

What did he miss? He's Batman. He misses nothing. Dick was the only one freaking out about this engagement. How was Bruce so calm?

"They never dated!"

Bruce sighed. He just wanted to nap in peace. He needed this twenty minute nap. He grumbled,

"Don't make me a grandpa yet. I'm still too young."

Tim blushed. You would be laughing so hard if you were here. You loved making him flustered, and it's even better if it's from family drama.

"You are in SO much trouble, Timothy."

Dick was still fuming. Is it a friends-with-benefits turned lovers situation or what? Everybody with eyes could see the pining, but he never thought Tim would actually get married. Tim immediately threw Jason to the wolves by pointing and saying,

"Jason witnessed it all."

Dick paused his scolding. His gaze turned to Jason, who was rapidly retreating into the kitchen. The kitchen has a back door that he can escape out of if he's fast enough. Dick immediately began chasing him.

"Jason Peter Todd, get back here! I have questions for you!"

Tim slipped out the front door in the midst of the chaos and began his walk to the ring store. Dick will calm down by the time he's back. Probably. Hopefully.

#tim drake x reader #batfam x reader #gn reader #x reader

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scoupsakakitty · 2 days ago

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Hiii can i request something like this mingyu's story, so basically a oneshot maybe longer oneshot 🛐🛐🛐 so yeah they meet again maybe mingyu recognize her but she doesn't recognized him until mingyu told her so yeah and the story continues HAHAHAHA

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QD4gYn/

Childhood Love | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the café as Y/N walked in, her fingers brushing against the strap of her bag. It had been a long day, and she needed a moment to relax. She ordered her usual latte and scanned the room for an empty table.

At the corner of the café, Kim Mingyu froze mid-sip of his Americano. His eyes widened as he watched her. It had been over a decade, but he would recognize her anywhere. The confident posture, the thoughtful way she glanced around it was all the same.

“Y/N…” he whispered to himself, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips.

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Life had moved on, and so had he debuting with Seventeen, countless schedules, and fame that had taken him far from the quiet town where they’d first met. But there she was, the girl who had stolen his nine-year-old heart without even knowing it.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to approach her at first. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she wouldn’t remember him. But as fate would have it, Y/N ended up taking a seat just a table away from his.

“Mingyu, don’t overthink it,” he muttered under his breath, taking another sip of his coffee for courage.

He finally stood up and walked over, clearing his throat softly. “Excuse me, but… is your name Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, that’s me. Have we met before?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. It’s been a long time. I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. We were in the same class in elementary school.”

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to place him. “Kim Mingyu… Wait, were you the tall kid who always forgot his homework?”

He laughed, a deep, familiar sound that tugged at something in her memory. “Guilty. And you were the class president who always reminded me to turn it in.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh my God, Mingyu! I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” he said with a grin, taking a seat across from her without asking. “It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, still processing the sudden reunion. “It has. I think the last time I saw you was… when I transferred schools? I was, what, nine?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said softly. “You just disappeared one day. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a wave of nostalgia settling between them. Y/N smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. It all happened so quickly. My parents decided to move, and before I knew it, I was in a new school.”

“I figured as much,” Mingyu said. “But I always wondered how you were doing.”

Over the next hour, they caught up, sharing stories of what had happened since those childhood days. Y/N talked about her career, her hobbies, and how much she missed the simpler days of childhood. Mingyu, on the other hand, hesitated to bring up his fame.

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Mingyu shifted in his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well… I’m in a group. A K-pop group, actually. Seventeen.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait, the Seventeen? You’re kidding.”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s me. I guess I grew up a bit from the kid who couldn’t even remember his homework.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

“You didn’t recognize me because I don’t look like the nine-year-old kid you used to boss around,” Mingyu teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She laughed, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through him. He had missed this missed her.

As the conversation continued, Mingyu found himself unable to hold back any longer. There was something he had to say, something he had carried with him for years.

“Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said, leaning in slightly.

“When we were kids… I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks. “You did?”

He nodded, his smile turning a bit shy. “Yeah. You were always so smart and confident. You didn’t even notice me half the time, but I thought you were amazing.”

Y/N blinked, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. “I had no idea.”

“I figured,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “You were focused on being the perfect class president. And then you left, and I never got the chance to tell you. But now that you’re here… I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Y/N smiled warmly, her gaze softening. “Mingyu, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry I was too busy being bossy to notice back then.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said, though his heart raced as he looked at her. “But maybe… we could make up for lost time now?”

Her smile widened, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they left the café together, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like fate had given him a second chance. The childhood crush he thought he’d lost forever was now walking beside him, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

————————————————————————————-

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v1x3n · 1 day ago

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SNAP OUT OF IT — j.price

⸝⸝ PAIRINGS ⫶ childhood friend!john price x reader

⸝⸝ SYNOPSIS ⫶ after not seeing your childhood bestfriend for a while, you meet him again at a bar. he says some strange things, things you didnt quite understand after you confirm that your soon going to get married.

⸝⸝ TAGS ⫶ angst - just lovesick john not getting what he wants.

"whats been happening in your world?"

"what have you been up to?"

you and john both accidently speak over eachother, you exchange a soft laugh as your eyes meet his. a hint of something lingers in the air, something unspoken of. "i heard you fell in love." john mumbles slightly, stirring his glass of whiskey aorund slightly.

you nod silently, looking down at your own drink, "yeah," youexhale with a slight smile plastered onto your face.

he could tell by the way your eyes lit up and your cheeks grew rosy that you were inlove with this guy. the guy? john met him ages ago. total dickhead. he wanted you to snap out of this love spell he had clearly put you in but he felt like he left it too long. the effects of the spell had already grown too strong.

"hes uhm asked me to marry him actually," your hand raises to show you the shiny ring. johns heart drops. you dont sound so happy about that though. "oh so your settlin' down?" john peeps up, taking a swig from his drink. letting the fluids travel down his throat with a familiar burn. "more like giving up." you joke with a slight of truth lingering in the words.

"it dont sound like you, yk getting married." he once remebers how you used to cringe at the thought of being tied down, when you two would sneak out as kids and think about the future. "guess things change when you meet the right person" you shrug, glancing him up and down as hes thinking its almost like your under a spell.

your drink sipped when you bring it up to your lips, "itll happen one day for you," you comment. "snap out of it." john says with a brooding voice.

"you- w-what?" you cough slightly on his sudden words. "its like your under a spell. fucking hypnotized." he rolls his eyes and takes a large swig. the liquid fueling his anger.

you tremble slightly, stepping back but it was no point cause john stepped two steps closer. pulling his hands out to hold your face, his fingers moving over your cheeks, "darling, how could you be so blind?" he practically scoffs at you. your confused, eyebrows raised and your dumbfounded expression plastered on your face.

that night you get home, plastered and you couldn't help but think what john was talking about. your thoughts remained on him for the night, even whilst in bed with your soon to be husband, johns face was the one you saw.

you needed to snap out of it.

john also needed you to snap out of it as he sat on his couch. thoughts clouding his mind as he went through old photos of youand him. seeing one where your arms slug around his shouldets, your cherry face showed and he had a daft grin plastered on his face - a smile he ever only did with you. his eyes glistened in the picture. practically glowing of love. his eyes looking towards your rosy face. he thought to himself, how did you never notice?

so he sent a text to you attaching the photo that held a beautiful memory.

'ill be here waiting patiently for you to snap out of it."

181 notes · View notes

bluemerakis · 8 hours ago

Note

that last sb fic 🫡 i owe you everything for that BUT i do have a request that's been rotting in my brain for days and i need someone as talented as u to give it a go

soldier boy x vought exec daughter!! the power play, the (healthy) age gap, forbidden desires????!!! need it, thank u, i love ur work

first off, i’m so so glad you enjoyed the fic anon! 😭 you��re making my heart incredibly full with the lovely compliment!! mwah!

secondly, that pairing is actually to die for??? wait i need it too. I GOTCHU!! thank you for trusting me with this wonderful wonderful idea, i hope i did it justice!! never stop using that amazing mind of yours to brainstorm these pairings 🩵

─ ۶ৎ ─

────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ────

❝ synergy ❞

part i

─ ۶ৎ ─

pairing ୨୧ soldier boy x vought!exec!daughter

warnings .ᐟ cussing, porn with plot, age gap, power play, reader has daddy issues (sorry this just makes it so much hotter), slow-burn enemies to … hate-sex partners, i guess lmfao; pet names, tension thick enough to cut with a knife, soldier boy just being typically insufferable in the best way ever

synopsis ─ as the daughter of vought’s executive director, you’ve got a pivotal role to play in the upkeep of the company. that means keeping payback in check—uniforms, brands, rehearsed speeches, and keeping a clean mouth (and nose) on the leader of them all—soldier boy.

the last task seems impossible to achieve, especially when the lead supe seizes all opportunities to get beneath your skin, and your skirt, during your every interaction. it makes working with him mostly insufferable, but you can’t deny the unspoken tension between the two of you—a tension that vouches for the slither of you that craves anything other than fleeing his presence.

word count ~ 9k

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“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, sweetheart, this job’s going to be tough on you.”

You listened to your father speak from where you stood only a few inches away from his desk—hands looped tidily behind your back, chin tilted upward in poise, and expression carved from the same stone that had built this building up from the ground. Honestly, you currently felt no different than a troop standing at their superior’s attention. And yet, you knew that it’d been by design. Your father’s design.

You tried not to pay too much mind to the way his use of sweetheart pricked the hairs of your neck. It was a name your father had spent years branding as your own term of endearment, but knowing what you knew about him, and what you meant to him, the term felt more like belittlement. You hated it.

You couldn’t help but hitch your brows at his statement—a brisk act of defiance that vanished almost as quickly as it’d come. Growing up, your father had never been anything but tough on you, and it’s a scar you’d carried well into adulthood. So you would have thought that, by now, he’d have learnt to stop doubting your capabilities.

A girl can dream, right? Because at the end of the day, entering your father’s company meant that you were fresh meat, and taking on this job wasn’t so much like being tossed into the lion’s den as it was being fed directly into the jaws of this man-operated corporate. It was a suffocating environment, but no different to the air you’d grown accustomed to breathing in the artificial circumstances of your upbringing.

After all, your father had practically raised you for this job.

You watched as the man of your nightmares circuited his unkempt desk with a chilled whiskey clutched at the ready, his hair the type of unruly that could have only been styled by a stressed hand. His head was tilted down to the ground, eyes studying his every step as though your existence before him had never been fathomable to begin with. Or demanding of the sort of respect that warranted even a second of eye contact.

His free hand whisked through the air as he spelled out all sorts of gestures tinged with subtle exasperation. “You’re going to be working with Supes,” he continued, glass lifting to his lips to down an eager gulp, as though the mere term was a distasteful pill to be swallowed. You caught his jaw unclenching for the first time this evening as his tongue waltzed with the liquor, and once the sip had lost its frisk, he discarded it with a swallow and a grunt of pleasure.

The scene before you had you stifling a wry grin. Supes were no saints, your father had always disclosed that much to you—but this? Drinking at the mere mention of them? Your father could be easily rattled at times, but for the most part, he was overly talented at holding his temper together when it came to dealing with. . . alternative groups. And drinking was a vice he’d long since worked hard to wean himself off of—for the most part, at least. So, if this atypical demeanour of his was the haunting preview for the horrors you were about to endure on this job, you knew you were in for one hell of a ride.

Your father continued his disgruntled pacing to round the corner of his desk, where he took up his throne and settled into its comfort with a dramatic creak. There, in the symbolic comfort of his importance, he found it in himself to finally acquaint your eye at last. A king addressing his lesser subject.

“Most of these Supes have been around since before me—some senility modifications they’d worked into the compound V formula. Has them looking not a day over forty,” he explained sullenly, as though perturbed by the science of it all. “Regardless of those insignificancies, the knowledge of their alterations make them presumptuous, it makes them insolent, but most importantly, it makes them dangerous—a liability, if you will.”

“A company’s kryptonite,” you droned suddenly, breaking your unspoken vow of silence with words that made your father’s lips curve up in satisfaction—and why wouldn’t it? They were his words, after all, words he’d spent all your growing years imbuing into your vocabulary of his selection so that you were not unlike his shadow. A part of you wondered, out of spite and just for a fleeting second, how he’d react to you finally stepping out of it and into your own light. Into your own legacy. Maybe, this job would be exactly the way to do it—the start of something new, born of something ancient.

“Precisely,” your father hummed gleefully, studying you though a slight narrowing of his eyes that told you all you needed to know—that he was currently admiring the fruits of his labour. His life’s work. You, a fail-safe investment, should his time to bite the dust arrive abruptly. “I taught you well,” he added with a suffocating smugness.

You taught me obedience, you retorted silently. But because he was always right, you offered a faux smile of agreement. “I’ve got big shoes to fill,” you said—lacquering his ego, maybe, but simultaneous making your future favours all the more sizeable. “I can’t give anything less than my absolute best.” He taught you that, too. Repeatedly. A mantra forged with every intent to instil a festering fear of failure, rather than nurture any hopes of sure succession. A grenade he’d planted within you, one hand always on the pin, just waiting to implode all that you were at the first mistake.

Your father never could refuse another flower in his bouquet of self-importance, so he received your praise with greedy palms, utterly oblivious to the spiteful thorns furled around their metaphorical stems—thorns that you vowed would eventually come back around to nip him where it hurt.

You watched his lips quirk with a smile that felt deeply displaced—like he’d been given a brief rundown of what to do, but lacked the practice to perfect it authentically. “Your mother would be proud,” he declared suddenly.

Admittedly, those words made the air catch in your throat for a brief second—your airways thickening with some unresolved emotion that made your lungs stutter for their next breath. You blinked in rapid succession, as if flipping through the pages of the behavioural manual your father had written into your code for instances that threatened to usurp your composure. Instances like these. But there was nothing that could’ve prepared you for your emotionally-uninvested father taking a casual stroll down memory lane.

You settled for a thick swallow and a slight perking of your chin, brows kneading with a purpose meant to push forward a steadfast narrative, but was really just a show of your greatest restraint. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” you pushed out bravely—but there was a slight hitch in your tone that you hoped your father’s attuned senses hadn’t snagged.

You’d never truly known your mother—she’d walked out of your life before you’d even learnt to crawl. But despite her apparent abandonment, your father had never failed to recall her memory in warmth—when he did bring her up. So you thought, then, that she couldn’t have been all that bad—and that, maybe, if she’d stuck around, she could have saved you from his bone-chilling, mind-numbing tundra of a heart.

Your father absentmindedly twirled his partially-emptied glass at the rim, eyes hovering on you for a duration that began nudging at your unease. They were narrowed, calculating. It was the same look he wore anytime he reviewed new proposals to implement—or those to scorn and discard without a second glance. It had always been a gift of his, to be an enigma never telling of which decision he’d eventually settle on, and it made you squirm more than you’d have liked to admit.

Eventually, he uttered a simple hm, your heart lurching at the cryptic noise—he, who always voiced his verdict with the intent for the world to hear it, settling on a sound so indefinite. Then, he drew in a deep, decided breath as he craned himself forward in his throne, free hand unfurling across the expanse of his cluttered desk to pluck up some folder he’d clearly set aside for this very conversation.

Slowly, he lifted it in your direction, a silent beckon for you to shed your salute and approach him at last. You obeyed on slightly wobbly legs drawn into rigidity by a show of confidence, striding over to a cover a distance close enough to snag the file, but not close enough to be drawn into his consuming orbit. “What’s this?” You asked, eyes buckling to skim the folder’s title for an answer that would precede your father’s.

Payback. The name placed immediately amongst the ranks of your knowledge. The super-abled team of heroes that the entirety of new York had practically claimed their new religion—deserving of praise and worship and altars in the form of billboards and big screens that spanned every skyscraper in view. The gods that could, would, and should do no wrong, according to the sheep of America. But wiser men could see through the white robes. Wiser men, like yourself, knew that Payback were nothing more than wolves loitering on the horizon, discreetly thinning out the naive herd. One by one—so sparse as to go unnoticed by the masses.

So, the question begged whether the file you currently held was cluttered with information intended to inform, or blackmail designed for your shortcomings to contain them.

“Open it,” your father instructed, earning a mildly wide-eyed glance from you. He lifted his glass with a glare that looked grim, then drained the last of the whiskey that had been slowly drowning in the glass keep as he waited for you to follow through.

You did, eventually, after watching him set down his glass, but flipping open the cover was driven by greedy curiosity, rather than the need to obey his every command—as you often found yourself doing. Your palm fanned beneath the spine to support both ends of the file as your other hand began flipping through the information-heavy sleeves.

Black Noir, Crimson Countess, Gunpowder—all the ridiculous names you tried not to pay too much attention to as you flitted through the pages. You skimmed through enough of the information to deduce that you were practically holding an old-school Wikipedia on each of Payback’s members, and it was a finding that had your heart sagging an inch lower into your chest with the sheer disappointment of it all.

You didn’t doubt that your father was hounding all the good stuff for himself. You also didn’t doubt that he’d ever hand you the key to that safe willingly. He trusted you with enough to become the skeleton of his company, but not the heart, lungs and soul of it all—hoarding the deepest, darkest secrets that would send the entire organism collapsing should it ever become public knowledge.

Fair enough. You’re new on the job. And you’re not him—even though he’d spent years trying to make you enough of a splitting image. Hell, you’re not even the child he wanted. You were the exception—the lemons he’d had to utilise to create worthwhile lemonade. You supposed that this job was your own sack of lemons to turn into something worthwhile, and that your father would have to have a taste of it before deciding when you’d have access to the more exciting information.

You hadn’t bothered to page toward the end of the file, the exploration terminating a rough three quarters in, where a picture of The TNT Twins stared back at you. You couldn’t have glanced away faster to relieve the discomfort their beady stares evoked. “What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked your father bluntly.

His hands were folded together now, elbows resting promptly atop his desk. At some point during your brief reading, he’d run another hand through his hair to recollect the class he often modelled throughout the hallways of Vought’s building. He looked almost respectable again. “Research,” he said.

“Research?” You echoed. “I’ve already done my research. And there’s nothing in here that I don’t already know. I doubt—”

“Do it again,” he cut in firmly. It sent a chill down your spine. With your lips pressed into a silent, sullen line, you watched his elbows slink from the frame of his desk as he settled back into his throne. His chin perked up as though needing to re-establish his elevated status, even from where he sat below you. “If you are to be the new manager of those Supe scoundrels, you will need to know everything there is to know about them. Every minuscule detail. From their first names, to their family history, down to every last transaction they’ve ever made.”

Manager? Of Payback? You reiterated silently. And it made your cheeks burn hot. That’s the so called job your father had been making a fuss over? That’d you’d paid all the years of your life toward preparing for? It was the coldest bucket of ice water your father could’ve dumped atop your head, but it did nothing to quench and cool the fire you felt bristling within.

The file’s covers clapped together as you closed it and held it against your chest, where you heaved an exasperated breath beneath the provided cover. “So you want me to micromanage a bunch of reckless superheroes?” You asked with practiced patience—your tone cool and level despite the irritation drawing your jaw rigid. This was not the job you’d expected after all you’d endured. After all the relentless, soul-sucking training your father had subjected you to.

Your father’s gaze narrowed in on your expression with unveiled scrutiny, and your heart must’ve felt it through the stack of paper shielding it because it began to thump rapidly. “You’re perfect for the job,” he said decidedly, and it felt like a dagger had pierced your chest to still the earthquake within your heart that had been rattling you from within. “We all had to start somewhere, sweetheart. My father didn’t hand me the other rein to the company until I’d learnt how to mount the horse without a leg-up.”

You began stroking your thumb across the file’s cover in calming patterns as you held your father’s stare. “I’m capable,” you pushed out tensely. “You know I am.” I was made for more.—that’s all you’ve ever told me. So what fucked up game are you playing with me right now?

“You are,” he agreed nonchalantly, as though oblivious to the dagger he kept on plunging further and further into your heart. “And that’s why I’m not trusting just anybody to nurture the faces of this company. I’m trusting you.”

Oh, is that right? You laughed bitterly. Silently.

A long time ago, you’d made peace with the knowledge of the childhood you’d never gotten—friends, parties, terrestrial playtime, being care-free. You’d made peace with it because you hoped you’d have had the job to compensate your losses. A job worth a damn. But this? Helicopter parenting a bunch of super-abled, overgrown babies with scorching tempers? It felt like the biggest, rankest pile of stinking shit had been hurled at the door of your housed self-respect. Yet, a part of you felt anything but surprised—the part of you that shared your father’s DNA, and that knew exactly how his brain worked.

Clutching the file against your chest even tighter than before, you drew in a calming inhale, your lips settling on words of peace. “Okay,” was all you offered, knuckling under to avoid starting a war you knew you wouldn’t win. Not now, at least. Not anytime soon. But you’d show him. When the time was right, and you’d collected all the right cards from the corporate deck, you’d show your father just how much you were capable of achieving.

A satisfied hum reverberated in his chest. “Wonderful,” he said, shifting forward in his seat to whisk a hand through the city of stacked paperwork erected along his desk. “Tomorrow morning, I’ve arranged a meeting with Payback. I’ll have you introduced to the group and leave you all to get better acquainted. I expect Soldier Boy might make a show, but word has it that he’s just been plucked from another one of his benders in some city slump.”

Your father’s head shook disdainfully as he recalled the reported skirmish. “I don’t bother to hassle myself with that Supe’s shenanigans, anymore. This isn’t the first time that fool’s nearly dragged Vought’s name through the sewers with his reckless addiction,” he grumbled, glancing up at you with another file he’d plucked from some part of his desk. “As the new manager, you’ll have to keep an extra close eye on that one, sweetheart. Here,” he added, lifting the extra-reading in your direction.

You leaned forward to receive the folder, rotating it to decipher the upside-down text. Soldier Boy. You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that he had his very own folder separate from the rest of the group. Oh, he had to be trouble, alright.

Out of curiosity, you tore your gaze away from the new addition to glance at your father. “What happened to the last manager, anyway?”

His head had buckled again to rummage through pages laden with script you couldn’t discern. “It’s logged in the last few pages of Soldier Boy’s records,” he said distractedly.

There was a lot to question about that single sentence, but you settled for the most prompting one. “Records?” You echoed with a frown.

Your father hummed confirmation. “You’ll need to log everything Soldier Boy gets up to. It’s the conditions the board settled on last time he was picked up from some party he’d turned bloody. You have to account for all hours of his day, make sure he’s rehearsed his written speeches before airings, and that he’s not floating in the skies of narcotics throughout it all. Though, the last task has proved impossible as of late. I don’t doubt he’s got an inside man supplying him. But with everything else Vought’s got going on, we can’t spare the men to hound that particular trail. As long as he keeps his nose clean while on the job,” he finished dryly, as though he knew his hope was severely misplaced.

Your frown deepened spitefully as you heeded Soldier Boy’s repute. “Why the hell is somebody like him still running this show? He clearly can’t even keep his own life together.”

Your outburst didn’t come as a surprise to your father, whose attention didn’t stray from his desk to soothe you. “No, he can’t,” he agreed. “But he’s been around long enough to warrant the hassle. Vought’s name has piggybacked off of Soldier Boy’s past—propaganda and all—for years, now. So, you try discreetly removing America’s sweetheart from the company and dealing with the outrageous consequences of the masses.” He laughed wryly.

“Besides, as insane as it might sound, we have better control over what that imbecile gets up to under this company’s roof. There’s no telling what bullshit he might spew to the streets if he was let go from his pride and joy.”

You pressed both files against your chest, eyebrow hitching thoughtfully. “Is there no way to. . . you know, neutralise him?” You asked carefully, half-expecting your father to whip you with a horrified glare. But it seemed as though your words were as natural as the next breath he took.

“We’ve tried,” he said simply, still fixated on the documents sprawled out before him. “We can’t. Not yet, at least. But they are working on a way to contain him.”

Your interest piqued greedily. This was the type of company secrets you’d hoped to get a taste of—important details. Something worth a damn. “Who’s they? And how?”

That was enough of a probe to earn his attention finally. He halted whatever document he was sorting through, eyes upturned to yours with an earnest glint. “You need not worry about that, sweetheart.” You bit down on your tongue woefully. “All I need you to do right now, is make sure that Payback is on their best behaviour. And keep Soldier Boy in check.”

The disappointment throttled your chest, making it hard to breathe and form any genuine words to acknowledge your purpose. So you watched in silence as your father averted his gaze to reach for a loose pile of documents, humming absentmindedly as he gathered them into a neat assembly. He paused to do a sweep of his desk before setting on his stationary box, where he reached to take up a stapler. He seemed to have forgotten you were here entirely.

“Is that all?” You piped up eventually.

The stapler hovered along the corner of the stacked pages as he glanced up at you briefly. “That’ll be all,” he confirmed. “Oh, and the meeting will be at eight a.m tomorrow morning,” he added.

“Right,” you murmured, trying your best to lighten the sound into something that resembled excitement, or at the very least, acceptance. “Goodnight,” you offered meekly, and with tonight’s work clutched tightly in both hands, you turned on your heels to make an exit.

You’d barely gotten into the rhyming click-clack of your departure before your father’s voice rung out across the space. “Sweetheart?”

You came to a slow halt, casting an apprehensive glance over your shoulder. “Yes, dad?”

He’d laced his fingers atop his desk, like a judge about to rule a decision. “Watch your back,” he advised, his expression softening into something that almost looked like concern. But you hadn’t thought it humanly possible of him. “Especially around Soldier Boy. He’s crude, and exploitative, and he won’t hesitate to try and sink his fangs into you.”

The corner of your lip quirked dryly. He didn’t sound like much of a challenge you weren’t already used to encountering on a day-to-day basis. “I can handle Soldier Boy,” you assured him.

His chin dipped in the slightest of nods—curt, but enough of an acknowledgement that made you yearn for another taste of his approval. You chided that voice. The voice of the little girl who’d done everything to mimic the exact footsteps her father had laid out amongst the sand. The little girl who’d rarely gotten praise for her many victories, but had been endlessly berated for her sparse failures. You silenced her.

When the time was right, when you’d worked hard enough to make something for yourself, you’d allow that voice to have a say once more. Only then, it wouldn’t voice pleas for your father’s approval, or beg for scraps of his company. It would be to acknowledge your own hard work, to raise up your own status, and to give yourself the encouragement you’d always sought from him.

You returned your father’s nod, and without lingering on him any longer, you turned and finally exited his office.

As you clattered down the winding hallways muffled by nighttime’s silence, your gaze drifted over to the looming windows in passing, noting how the sky’s starry army saluted you at intervals. You made a beeline for the elevator up ahead, which stood open in waiting, and thankfully, with nobody else inside. You slipped into the tiny, four-walled space and hit the button for your floor, watching as the doors trailed close with a rather dramatic creak. Definitely behind on maintenance. When you reached your designated floor, the elevator dinged and parted for you to step into the open, which you did hastily.

Your eyes bowed with exhaustion now. You’d need to brew a pot of coffee as soon as possible if you had any hopes of powering through your work in preparation for tomorrow. As you made your way down the hall, you heard the elevator depart behind you. Somebody must’ve pushed the summons button, and you hoped they weren’t en route toward your floor. The thought daunted you a bit, hastening your steps toward the door marking your suite. You didn’t have the energy to entertain conversation right now.

When you reached your abode, you clutched both files beneath one arm as your free hand reached into your blazer pocket, feeling out the security card that would grant you access. You plucked one out in a smooth motion between your index and middle finger, hand outstretching to hover it over the sensor. But the light declined you with a blaring red, and your brows furrowed as you brought it forward to study the details.

It was then that you noticed you’d pulled the wrong card—one that granted access to your father’s suite. You reached back into your pocket to swap it out for the only other card, and then in the distance, the elevator dinged open.

Oh, fuck me, you groaned internally.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder just in time to see who the doors had parted to reveal. The first thing you noticed was a couple, faces connected in a heated war of the lips. The woman was pressed against the back wall of the elevator, hands wrapped around the neck of a man in a uniform that would’ve looked misplaced if it hadn’t been worn inside of Vought’s building. A superhero uniform.

Your interest piqued a hundred times over, and you found yourself staring to gather more information. The man’s hands roamed the women’s waist in messy, hungry motions, tousling her clothes about the place. You squinted at the colours of his uniform, head craning forward an inch, and then instantly recoiled with a wide-eyed stare as you recognised the colours of Soldier Boy.

Just then, the woman pushed him back at the chest with an obnoxious giggle, uttering some shrill sentence that skipped the frequency of your hearing channels entirely. Soldier Boy’s laugh, however—deep and reverberating—didn’t go unnoticed. It graced your ears almost pleasantly, and you watched as he herded her out the elevator with an exploitative study of her behind.

You were immediately drawn to his striking face. You’d seen it countless times all across the city, but somehow, it didn’t do him the justice that an in-person encounter did. His hand came forward to cup the woman’s ass with a clap that echoed down the hallway, and she let out a delighted squeal then had him chuckling in success. Neither of them noticed you loitering further down the hallway.

You grimaced at the sight of Soldier Boy. Never meet your heroes—now that was a saying that was onto something. Not that Soldier Boy had ever been your hero. Still, it did help knowing just what sort of person you’d have to deal with so thoroughly. And despite knowing what you knew about him—courtesy of your father and your research—you wished this instance hadn’t been your first impression of him. You’d count your blessings, though because by the sounds of his reputation, this behaviour of his was nothing of note.

“Come on, baby,” Soldier Boy’s voice boomed through the quiet air. “Let’s get you back to the room, hopped up on some bennies, and then I’ll show ya the best night o’ fuckin’ your life, yeah?” He chuckled, hand stringing around her shoulder to guide her around a corner that plucked them both from your view. And thankfully, in a direction away from your suite.

Benzadrine and an illegal, after-hour guest? Boy, he was not up to a great start in your books. You should have pursued them both, halted them in their tracks and started your case before bleeding his ear with repercussions, but you didn’t. Instead, you pulled out the correct access card, scanned it in, and hummed contentedly as the suite parted for you to drift inside, leaving the day’s shit outside the door.

Technically, you weren’t on the job yet. So, whatever obvious mischief Soldier Boy was currently up to was anything but tonight’s problem. You had other things to tend to for tomorrow’s big day, and there, you’d meet the leader of the Supes, anyway. Good to see he was around, after all, but it was simultaneously a fact that had you clenching your jaw an inch.

You knew men like soldier boy—avoided them like the plague, usually. But this time, with a miserable job like the one you’d been stuck with, you’d have no choice but to work with him.

ミ☬彡

You’d hardly gotten sleep last night. Between sifting through the files of Payback’s history and learning the names of the important personnel you’d have to consult at least once in your life, you’d been busy. Busy was an understatement. You’d been drowning.

When the clock had struck five in the morning, you’d wrapped up the last of your reading to take a power nap until six, and then hopped straight into a much needed shower. After drying off, dressing proper and gathering the day’s documents into a case, you’d taken a moment to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the meeting room.

For the sake of punctuality and practicality, it helped that you lived in Vought’s tower. You’d been assigned permanent residence in one of the suites tucked into the top floors, and if you’d skimmed the blueprint correctly, it was only two floors above where most of Payback was situated. Though, judging by last night’s encounter with Soldier Boy, you could deduce that he lived on the same floor as you—likely a show of his lead-Supe status. Great for him, bothersome for you.

You had to admit to yourself that living where you worked, and working where you lived was far from the ideal lifestyle, but there wasn’t much you could do to change it now. You could only endure, so endure you would. But first, a cup of coffee to kickstart your energy reserves was a must.

After a quiet elevator ride, you’d traversed the winding hallways to reach the double doors of the meeting room. When you slipped inside, you weren’t surprised to find the room completely empty. It was only a little over seven, and that gave you roughly an hour to cram in a little more reading before the rest of the crowd arrived.

You settled at one of the chairs tracing the circumference of the large, winding table. The shape was semi-circular with the middle hollowed out to allow for addressing the members as the centre of attention, and it was a position you’d find yourself in very soon.

Around you, the world drowned into non-existence as you began skimming the first of your pages, the minutes ticking by like fleeting seconds. When you checked your watch again, it read quarter to eight. You hoarded your notes back into your case, chair screeching aside as you wandered over to the corner of the room where the coffee machine idled. You began prepping enough coffee to fill the mugs of the first four people lucky enough to claim it, and sip on a hot cuppa to ease them into this morning’s meeting.

You hovered by the machine until it brewed finish, keeping your hands entertained by aimlessly rearranging the mugs and other clutter. You were feeling slightly anxious about this big day, but at the same time, thrilled. This was your first ever job, but one you knew you could handle and blossom within until something greater came along. Until you seized something greater for yourself.

You reached for the coffee pot and began filling your mug, and it was just then that you heard the doors to the meeting room slide open, loud chatter seeping into the quiet atmosphere you’d grown comfortable in. You glanced over your shoulder briefly to spot a mixture of smart, simple uniforms and more dramatic, colourful ones trailing inside—board members and Supes alike, streaming inside in unity.

You found yourself glancing away almost instantly, head dipping to the pot of coffee that you continued to pour until your mug was filled to the brim. Your heart started to beat a little faster, now, the reality of it all sinking in. But you paced a breath or two to steady your nerves before placing the pot back into the slot.

It’s okay, you’ve got this, you steadied silently. You can’t afford to make mistakes, your father’s voice chimed in, but you pushed it away with a light frown. Bringing your mug up to your lips, you took the first, hot sip, savouring the bitter taste of it before swallowing it tensely. The warmth was soothing as it slid down to your stomach, almost enough to lay off the edge entirely.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” the first gruff voice of the morning furled through the air to harass you from some distance outside of your view. The vanity saturating his tone almost made you want to ignore it entirely, but as the daughter of Vought’s Executive with a reputation to uphold, it would be best not to soil both your family’s name—and your own—on your first day on the job—even if you had to bust a tooth or two clenching back biting remarks.

So, you lowered your mug back onto the table, your head jerking with a slight breath of patience. The corners of your lips quirked up in forced duty before you turned on your heels to face the man so determined to believe his every one-liner was some hypnotising spell.

You were instantly greeted by a handsome face modelling a potent grin—perfect white teeth that must’ve been tirelessly polished by his sense of self-importance. And his eyes, so impressively green, held this tantalising glint to them that almost made you not want to look away. The one and only Soldier Boy, even more striking this up close. But you had a feeling—many feelings—that his mouth was about to open to invalidate everything physically appealing about him.

“There she is,” he said lowly—a melodic rumble that managed to instil goosebumps along the nape of your neck. “A face as pretty as expected. Tell me, sweetheart, would you mind pourin’ me a cup? Black, and hold off on the sugar—unless you’re offerin’,” he added with an animated wink.

His use of sweetheart made your stomach curl in a manner that paled in comparison to the emotions your father evoked when addressing you. Maybe because everything Soldier Boy said felt like it came with unvoiced strings attached that you’d climb into his bed come the end of the day. And you wouldn’t even get started on the commercial wink he’d perfected to the point of being laughable outside of rolling cameras.

God, he was a faux-fest of charm.

“Oh,” you laughed dryly, head slightly tilting to one side, if only to scorn Soldier Boy further. “You must be mistaken, I don’t work for you.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes narrowed an inch. Whether it was from a place of surprise that you’d talk to him this way, or that—for once—he was being met with mockery rather than admiration, you had no idea. Didn’t care.

“Excuse me?” He chuckled carefully, but his gaze was anything but calculated as he did a bold sweep of your figure. “Everybody works for me, sweetheart,” he countered, eyes finding yours in a frown. “That’s kinda the perk that comes with bein’ Vought’s pocket-fillin’, undeniably handsome pussy-magnet, and the face of this entire operation, ‘course.”

“Well,” you chuckled, but it lacked humour. “Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. But, if you’d like a cup of coffee, I’d be more than happy to step aside and let you pour one yourself.” The furrow in the Supe’s brows deepened at your bluntness, and you offered another forced smile before turning your back on him.

You did good on your word and side-stepped an inch to accommodate him while recollecting your own mug. But instead of sliding in beside you to fulfil his caffeine craving, Soldier Boy’s gloved palm came down on the countertop, his exposed fingers tapping at the wood.

“Bold,” he remarked sultrily. “I like it.” He brought himself forward to hover over your shoulder, the contact so close that you felt his chest graze your shoulder. Your head sank back an inch with a breath of patience as you turned to give him the attention he so clearly couldn’t live without.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked pointedly, your hands coming up to cradle your mug against your chest.

A faint grin stretched his lips as he peered down at you, his eyes narrowing on your every feature like you were an object of fascination that needed to be thoroughly studied. “Apparently not,” he chuckled lightly, slipping an intentional glance at your coffee. When he tuned back to eye-level, his chin jerked a small gesture in your direction. “What’d you say your name was, again?”

“I didn’t,” you answered vaguely, bringing your coffee to your lips for a sip. Your eyes didn’t stray from his as your nose dipped past the rim to drain a mouthful, and neither did his as he studied your every move with a twitching lip. You were testing his patience, alright. It made you grin against the porcelain.

“Right,” Soldier Boy cleared his throat, hand coming up from the counter to join his other in a cross against his broad chest. “Well, I’m sure I need no introduction,” he chuckled haughtily. “So, why don’t you tell me your name, sweetheart?”

You lowered your mug with a dramatic swallow, weaving a look of confusion through your features. “Yeah, I know who you are,” you said. The Supe quirked an eyebrow and gave a slight nod that said well, of course. “You’re The Boy Soldier, right?” And just like that, the grin was wiped clean from his face.

The Supe leaned himself into your vicinity. “You fuckin’ with me?” He murmured, as if the foul mouth on him was any secret.

You tilted your head in mock. “Obviously,” you shot back. “But it wouldn’t hurt you to learn some modesty.”

Soldier Boy’s lips quirked with a scheme as he softened his glare. “Oh, yeah? You gonna teach me?” He jeered.

You held his stare levelly. “Careful,” you warned, your fingers tightening around the body of your mug.

The Supe relented an inch at that, tall frame straightening to full height as he stopped encroaching on your space. “Not really my style, sweetheart.”

“It should be. Especially around me,” you retorted, leaving the statement to dangle in front of his face as you brought your mug up for another sip.

Suddenly, Soldier Boy’s expression tackled something other than a shit-eating smirk, his charm sobering up into a look of apprehension. “The hell you on ��bout?” He demanded in a hushed, but gruff tone. “Who are you?”

You downed the last of your coffee, turning to lower the mug onto the coffee table with a deliberate slowness that made the Supe grimace and draw his lower lip into a frustrated bite.

“Enough o’ the goddamn theatrics,” he snapped, hand coming down rather firmly onto the coffee table. A second later, he was glancing around to see if he’d drawn any attention, and you did the same, only to find that everybody was far too absorbed in their own conversation to eavesdrop yours.

Glancing back at Soldier Boy, you caught his returning eye with raised brows. “What? The entertainment industry got you sick of the suspense?” You jabbed. His jaw clenched, causing you to huff a soft breath of satisfaction.

“Who am I?” You continued more seriously. “I’m just somebody that saw you sneaking in your pick of the Soldier Boy kiss-ass litter last night. And, I heard you offering her drugs, no less. Not a great look when you’re supposed to be following some sort of rehab program, you know, as per the terms of your last. . . probation, if you will.”

The Supe’s face tensed with the knowledge of getting caught, and it made your chest brim with satisfaction, but it was short-lived as he took a step closer to size you up and glare you down. “Yeah? And what about it, huh?” He murmured. “You think anybody’s gonna believe a single world outta your mouth? Over me—the Soldier Boy?” He gave a huff of laughter, gaze averting to the side for a second before narrowing on you again. “Sweetheart, you have no idea who you’re messin’ with.”

You raked your glare across his figure, as if trying to comprehend his audacity. “And you think that you do?” You shot back, your own arms coming up in a cross of restraint.

The gesture was enough to earn the Supe’s attention with a condescending smirk and hitch of his brow, which only made it all the more pleasurable to continue.

“Have you forgotten that you have no idea who I am?” You pointed out. “Besides, do you actually think that your word means anything to any person with a functioning brain? You’ve got the entirety of Vought elbow-deep in NDAs and rampant insomnia trying to cover this company’s ass after all of your reckless stunts. So trust me when I say that your word is as valued as a toddler crying wolf.”

The Supe’s chin perked with the slightest, almost imperceptible movement, clearly reflecting on your speech while simultaneously attempting to conceal a mixture of indignation and unease—because Soldier Boy wouldn’t be caught dead quivering before anybody. If there’s one thing you could thank your father for, it was his unintentional hand in teaching you how to decipher a man’s mind.

Eventually, the Supe mustered up his remaining nerve, his lip taking on a slight quiver of some emotion you couldn’t exactly place. It looked. . . ailed, but his brows were so intent on memorising discontent. “You gonna tell me who you are, sweetheart, or are you just here to tease my dick til I give you somethin’ to show for it, hm?” He asked in a low murmur.

You squinted at the mouth on him. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out who I am—soon enough,” you told him, and the ambiguity made the Supe glance off to the side with a muffled for fuck sakes.

Just then, one of the board members—a shorter, elegantly dressed lady—politely inserted herself between the two of you with a soft-spoken greeting. Your attention flickered over to where she reached to pour herself a mug of coffee, then back to where Soldier Boy remained glaring you down—only silenced by the newcomer’s presence. A blissful silence. You took that as your opportunity to ditch his interrogation, flashing him one last grin before you turned on your heels and moved back to where you’d left your belongings at the table.

You gathered your things together and set it down at your seat, and it wasn’t long before the chatter around you died down, your father streaming in through the doors. Almost immediately, members were rushing to take up their seats. In either side of you, you were faced with a man and woman dressed smartly, who introduced themselves as part of the board. You exchanged your own name, but purposely neglected revealing your second name. That would come in due time—undoubtedly attached to some degree of judgement. But for now, you’d savour the last remaining moments of peace that came with your mystery.

“Good morning, all,” your father greeted, and the crowd sizzled with softer reciprocations. He brought himself to stand in the centre of the space, doing a quick turn to drink in all the surrounding faces, his stare stuttering on the view of you. He offered a small nod, which you reciprocated subtly, and then he was turned back to addressing the rest of the room’s occupants.

Just past him, on the opposite curve of the table, you saw Soldier Boy slink into his seat of choice. He caught your eye almost instantly, and already, you could see some degree of puzzle-piecing taking place amid his expression—especially as he gauged your seat amongst important personnel, as opposed to watching you leave the room with the other assistants.

That’s right, you chuckled internally, holding his stare boldly. I’m here to stay.

Soldier Boy was drawn rigid in his seat as he endured your visual probing, the singular, gloved hand he’d come to rest on the table subtly tapping at the wood. Eventually, he averted his gaze off to the side, like he’d grown exasperated with your attention, and you birthed a light smirk before turning your focus back to your father.

For the first half the meeting, he gave a quick rundown on Vought’s current dealings, soliciting input from some of the gathered board members on new strategies and information they may have. It was knowledge public enough for the Supes to listen in on, but they did so deploringly—as if it were a waste of their precious time. Your attention snagged onto Soldier Boy in particular, whose glare had wandered back over to you in the short time you’d spent ignoring him. Now, it seemed as though he just couldn’t neglect you, not even for a second.

You knew that his mind was likely on a rampage of nagging thoughts about who you were and just what the hell else you knew about him. And each time you caught his eye, you let nothing on, despite the mean amusement that made you want to grin boldly. Is this what having powers felt like? Yours was a lot less tangible than a Supe’s, but still real enough to have an effect—if Soldier Boy was any testament to that.

The meeting droned on for a while longer before your father was clearing his throat with the claim of an important announcement, and the crowd equipped a new sense of interest. Even the surrounding Supes seemed to perk, some even slipping you a glance, as though they expected you might finally be introduced. And you were.

Your father’s head turned toward you, his hand outstretching in a beckon as he called your name. “Please, join me,” he said.

You would’ve gladly done so without a second thought, but then he continued onto summoning another person to his side—and of course, it had to be Soldier Boy. You watched as the Supe made haste on his summons, intentionally avoiding your deploring eye as he drew up beside your father.

With a small, preparatory breath, you moved to relieve yourself from the table, the atmosphere falling silent enough to emphasise the harsh screech of your chair as you straightened up. You worked your way around the other seated members, turning the table’s corner to join Soldier Boy at your father’s other side—in the centre of it all.

When you reached the waiting pair, you tried not to directly acknowledge the tense scrutiny etched across Soldier Boy’s face as he watched you enter the bubble of importance. But in the corner of your eye, you caught the way he shifted his weight between his boots, and the slight, choked clearing of his voice. It coaxed forward a grin that tugged at your lips, but for the sake of remaining professional, you pursed them to ease it off.

Your father’s hand outstretched to receive you at your back as he ushered you beside him, head turning to address the room. “For those of you who haven’t yet met her, this is my daughter,” he began, sparing you a brief, enigmatic glance. “In fact, today marks the first day that she enters the Vought family—as the new manager of Payback.”

Soft murmurs of surprise arose from the gathered people, and you couldn’t help but do a sweep of the peering faces. Most of the board members looked faintly surprised, heads tilting together as they exchanged hushed words. But the rest of the crowd—the Supes, looked almost exhilarated, like you were a new game to be played. You knew it was likely an attempt to scare you off, but if anything, it only made you feel more determined.

Still, your attention didn’t stray to where Soldier Boy stood. But you guessed he must’ve looked a combination of every member’s shock.

Your father cleared his throat, and it was the singular sound needed to quiet the room once more. “I expect great things for this company moving forward,” he continued, and you were faced with the back of his head as he glanced over at Soldier Boy. “Let us seize this new change with vigour, and show America why we are worthy of being her face.”

All around you, the members erupted with scattered claps, but as the seconds dragged on, it became more paced and prominent. You found yourself modelling a proud smile as you gazed upon the room, feeling a new sense of importance.

Maybe, just maybe, you could work with this job.

Around you, the room lit up with chatter and the shrill voices of moving chairs as the meeting dispersed. Your father’s hand on your back drifted away as he retreated a step, earning your attention back to him—and regrettably, Soldier Boy, who was now in appreciable view of you.

The Supe’s expression was stoic as he glared at you, but you saw the muscle of his jaw flicker when you met his gaze, and the way his hands had drawn into tense fists at his side.

Your father turned to face Soldier Boy. “Ben,” he addressed him—you’d almost forgotten the Supe’s very normal name, but you’d pocket it for a time when you could best use it to your advantage.

The Supe angled his body an inch to face your father, but not without sparing you a quick, accusing glance. “Sir,” he cleared his throat thickly.

If your father noticed the silent, ricocheting tension between yourself and Soldier Boy, he didn’t show it. “You’ll find that my daughter and you are quite alike,” your father said.

You grimaced at that observation, which must’ve been potent enough to beckon to the corner of the Supe’s eye because he flashed you a look of subtle offence before modelling neutrality more.

“But I hope that in your similarities, you will find yourselves working synergistically, rather than butting heads.” Your father’s words sounded oddly optimistic—almost cheesy, but you knew that everything he was saying was an indirect warning that the Supe not stir up trouble. A naive hope.

The hands Soldier Boy had bundled at his sides released to loop around his back, chin tilting up slightly to embody the essence of his name. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered hoarsely, then added, “sir.”

“Good,” your father murmured, a satisfied look settling into his sharp features. “Now, let us formalise this new partnership with a handshake,” he decided, his attention straying over to where you waited in silence.

“Handshake?” The Supe echoed almost dumbly, earning a side-long glance from your father.

“Is there a problem, Ben?”

Soldier Boy’s frown reached you briefly before he glanced back at your father, eyes narrowing before he lifted his head determinedly. “No, sir,” he answered firmly. And then, without further command, he took initiative by releasing his formation and strolling over to where you stood.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” your father said with a quick nod, before he strayed toward the crowd of chirping board members.

Tensely, Soldier Boy drew up before you, his gloved hand outstretching into your vicinity. When you glanced him in the eye, he looked as though he were attempting to probe your mind. Your lips stretched with a smile that was meant to be polite, but that you knew came off far too smug, and you lifted your own hand to link with his.

“I look forward to working with you, Soldier Boy,” you said, your voice clear-cut and ringing through the tense air circulating between you two—connecting all that you were.

The Supe’s lips quirked into a one-sided, insincere smirk, scrutiny heavy on his brows. But he said nothing, much to your didappintment. With a soft hm, you loosened your fingers in an attempt to shake his hold and terminate the handshake, but then his grip on you tightened, stilling you in your tracks.

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he finally answered, his typical, mischievous demeanour making a formidable comeback. “I ain’t gonna lie, you’ve perched yourself on one helluva dick by takin’ on this job. But, you strike me as the typa gal that loves a challenge, so I’m gonna make damn fuckin’ sure you get it,” he promised lowly, delivering one more meaningful squeeze to your palm before you found it strung up against his lips with a single, strong pull.

There, he pressed his lips to your knuckles in a chaste kiss—an action so far from expected that you’d seized into speechless confusion. The intense green of his eyes seemed to gleam brighter as he drank in your reaction to his touch, and when he withdrew his lips and lowered your hand, you found him modelling a charming grin.

You yanked your hand free of his touch, arm flying back to your side in rigidity. “You—” you attempted to chide, but your tongue trampled itself into a hot, speechless mess. And at your side, upon the knuckles Soldier Boy had branded, you felt the lingering sensation of his lips.

“Me?” The Supe entertained, head tilting almost mockingly.

You felt your cheeks simmer, but not with embarrassment—just sheer frustration. “Behave yourself, Ben,” you choked out, arms coming up in a cross.

His expression beamed with a look of pleasant surprise, and then he was humming in approval. “Say that again,” he urged, eyes narrowing devilishly. “I could get used to the sound o’ my name on those pretty lips o’ yours,” he chuckled.

Your head tilted at his toying. “Really? Even if it’s as I’m reporting last night’s little house-party bender to the board?” You retorted. Soldier Boy’s light immediately dulled at that, and you quirked your eyebrows in accomplishment. “I expected as much,” you huffed, arms unfurling back to your side. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

And with that, you turned and took your departure, leaving Soldier Boy in the stunned rear. Just when you thought you’d heard the last of his voice for today, his insistence trailed after you in one last statement.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart, I’ll be waitin’.”

──────────────────────

a/n ─ first off, sincerely sorry that i took so long to get this request out, anon!! one thing about me is that i do tend to take long with writing but literally only bc i am way too hard on myself (perfectionist tingz) and always end up changing things 10000 times until im satisfied. secondly, this dynamic is so scrumptious pls, i really enjoyed fleshing it out—anon your mind is amazing. i split this into two parts bc it became a long one (as it always does with me) and it’s already written, but i’ll be releasing it at a later stage just to edge you all 😵‍💫 not sure when yet tho as i’m driving back to college sat and i’m super busy as of now but i’ll keep yall posted. i hope you all enjoyed this first part! also my & @floralscented’s world both collided with this request so i encourage all you lovely people to go and check out her take on it as well!! i don’t think there will ever be too much of this pairing 🙂‍↕️

thank you for reading!! please show your support with likes, comments & reblogs—they are deeply appreciated ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @angelicjackles @deansbbyx @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @floralscented @deansbeer @deansbbyx @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @whisperingdaze @st4rmarley

want to become a part of the taglist for any future soldier boy works?

other works ─ the boys masterlist

114 notes · View notes

echo-riot · 2 days ago

Text

Texting loser!Ellie

An: I really love these tbh-

•|||——————————————————————|||•

1:29 am

Ellie: Hey, uh… you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Oh, uh, no reason. Just… thinking about you. Like, not in a weird way. Or maybe a little weird? But not creepy weird. Just normal weird. You know what I mean?

You: Ellie, breathe. What’s on your mind?

Ellie: Okay, so, like… you know how I said I wasn’t gonna be all clingy? Yeah, I lied. I miss you. A lot. It’s pathetic. Please don’t make fun of me.

You: Aw, you’re cute. I miss you too. What are you doing right now?

Ellie: Thinking about your thighs. Uh—I MEAN. Playing guitar. Totally just playing guitar. Haha.

You: Ellie… are you serious right now?

Ellie: My brain is broken. Ignore me.

You: Nope. Too late. So, what exactly are you thinking about my thighs?

Ellie: STOP. I can’t handle this kind of pressure. I’m already sweating.

You: Sounds like a “you” problem. But I kinda like knowing you’re flustered over me.

Ellie: Oh, I’m beyond flustered. I’m like… short-circuiting. Can you just, like, show up at my place and sit on my face so I stop embarrassing myself?

You: Bold of you to assume I’d let you off the hook that easily.

Ellie: PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I’ll do anything. Wash your car? Carry your groceries? Worship the ground you walk on? Actually, I already do that

You: Yeah, I know you do. Loser.

Ellie: Rude, but accurate. Anyway, I gotta go. Gonna play guitar and pretend I didn’t just admit that I’m obsessed with you.

You: Obsessed, huh? Good to know. Maybe I’ll reward you later

Ellie: DON’T TEASE ME LIKE THAT. My heart can’t handle it.

You: Guess you’ll have to wait and find out. Bye, loser.

Ellie: I love you, okay? I LOVE YOU. There, I said it. Bye.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:20 pm

Ellie: Hey, so, uh… question.

You: Here we go. What’s up?

Ellie: Hypothetically… if I were to, like, write a song about you, would you think that’s cool or kinda cringe?

You: Depends. How many times does the word “thighs” show up in the lyrics?

Ellie: Why are you like this? I’m trying to be romantic, and you’re bullying me.

You: Oh, I’m the bully? Says the girl who stared at me for five minutes straight last night and then said, “Sorry, you’re just really distracting.”

Ellie: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT. Also, you were wearing those shorts. What was I supposed to do?

You: Be normal?

Ellie: Impossible. I saw your legs and forgot how to act. You’re lucky I didn’t pass out.

You: Wow, I’m flattered. So where’s this hypothetical song?

Ellie: …It’s not done yet. But I might’ve rhymed “perfect” with “I’m not worth it.” Thoughts?

You: Ellie, you’re such a loser, but I love you.

Ellie: Yeah? Say it again. Slowly this time.

You: Nice try. Not happening.

Ellie: Fine. Guess I’ll just sit here and suffer in silence, replaying it in my head.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

12:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi. What now?

Ellie: What do you think it would take to convince you to marry me? Like, is there a specific snack you like? Or should I just propose while holding your dog hostage?

You: Ellie, we’ve been dating for three months.

Ellie: Okay, but, counterpoint: you’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait. I’d propose tomorrow if I wasn’t afraid of passing out mid-speech.

You: Big words for someone who forgets to text back for three days.

Ellie: HEY. That’s a creative process issue, not a love issue.

You: So what I’m hearing is… you’re madly in love with me and bad at time management.

Ellie: Exactly. See? You get me.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

3:30 pm

Ellie: Okay, I’m officially spiraling. Can I just tell you something without you making fun of me?

You: No promises. Go on.

Ellie: Sometimes I sit around and think about how lucky I am that you actually like me. Like, I’m a disaster, and you’re… you’re you. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m not questioning it. I just—thank you for putting up with me.

You: Ellie, you’re my favorite disaster. And if you keep being cute, I might actually have to show up at your place and kiss you right now.

Ellie: DO IT. PLEASE. I’LL PAY FOR YOUR GAS. I’LL—

You: Relax, loser. I’m already outside.

Ellie: Wait, what?! Hold on, I gotta brush my hair—

You: Too late. I’m coming in.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

10:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi, Ellie. What’s up?

Ellie: Can I say something without you laughing at me?

You: You’ve already asked this today, and it was hilarious. Go ahead.

Ellie: Okay, so like… I’m trying really hard not to think about the way your ass looked in those jeans earlier.

You: Ellie.

Ellie: What? I’m being honest. It’s a problem. I almost walked into a pole because of you.

You: It’s not my fault you have no self-control.

Ellie: Self-control? With you? Yeah, right. You literally walked by me, and I stopped functioning.

You: Good to know I have that effect on you.

Ellie: Oh, you know. You definitely know. You’re evil for it, by the way.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

4:40 pm

Ellie: Hey. Are you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Because I was thinking… you should come over. Like, now.

You:Why?

Ellie: Because I miss you. And because I really need to kiss you. Maybe more than kiss you. But, uh… yeah.

You: You’re bold today.

Ellie: You’re hot every day, so I figured I’d stop pretending to be cool about it.

You: Ellie, you’re such a dork.

Ellie: Okay, but I’m YOUR dork. Come over so I can prove it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:28 pm

Ellie: I just saw your Instagram story. I’m losing my mind over here.

You: Why? It’s just a selfie.

Ellie: Just a selfie?? You looked so good, I almost dropped my guitar. What are you trying to do to me?

You: Ellie, calm down.

Ellie: Calm down? You’re out here looking like THAT, and I’m supposed to act normal? No chance.

You: So dramatic.

Ellie: You think it’s funny, but I’m literally sitting here like, “Wow, that’s my girlfriend. I’m the luckiest loser alive.”

•|||——————————————————————|||•

9:34 pm

Ellie: I can’t stop thinking about you.

You: What else is new?

Ellie: No, but like… it’s bad. I’m at the store, and everything reminds me of you. I saw strawberries and thought about how you taste like them when you wear that lip gloss. It’s driving me insane.

You: Ellie, get it together.

Ellie: Can’t. Don’t wanna. I’d rather think about you.

You: You’re so thirsty.

Ellie: Yeah, for YOU. And I’m not sorry about it.

You: You’re ridiculous.

Ellie: But you love it. And you love me. Soooo… can I come over?

You: You’re lucky I love you.

Ellie: I know. Be ready when I get there.

#ellie tlou #sub ellie williams #ellie x you #loser ellie #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us

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destielaureversebb · 14 hours ago

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Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “Regarding Beasts”

Author: Altiria Artist: CJ || ColorlessJay @colorlessjayblog

Rating: Mature Archive warnings: None Length: 55,000 words Tags: Fluff, Eldritch Monster!Castiel, Kid!Sam, War Scenes, John's A+ Parenting, Comedy Relationships: Dean/Castiel, Colette/Cain

Summary:

“Legend tells of a beast within the woods. A creature that lives where the trees grow taller than the highest castle, and the darkness swallows all light. None dare tread where it walks, for if it catches sight of you, you’re already lost. The beast devours the hearts of young men, its hunger never abating. So beware, young souls, of the forest and its protector, and do not venture forth into the woods.”

Or:

Dean has protected the forest for his entire life, but when he is cursed with memory loss, he wanders into the beast's territory. But the creature has no interest in 'eating' his heart; rather, it would much prefer to capture it instead.

Excerpt:

“I am Castiel. Seraph of the Forest.”

“Hi, Castiel… of the forest,” Dean repeated after the guy. “I’m Dean, Human of the village?”

The feathers on Castiel’s head poofed up again as he shuffled. His wings extended, revealing their full length, while his tail flared out in tandem. He looked at Dean as if to ask his opinion.

“Cool,” Dean choked. “You, uh… those are huge wings.” Stunning, actually. Dean wanted to touch them, wanted to run his hands all over Castiel—not just because he was a Forest God and meeting one was rare, but because they looked ridiculously soft.

Castiel’s wings settled down. Was he preening? What did preening even look like? He didn’t know shit about birds.

“Well,” Dean drawled. “I should go… my brother is probably going crazy wondering where I am.” He was painfully late to pick Sam up from school; he had probably gone home alone, frantic and worried. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had contacted the rangers to send out a search party.

Castiel’s head bobbed. “I understand; your hatchling is waiting.”

“Exactly,” Dean said, half-turned. “So… thanks for everything. I’ll just be on my—”

Talons wrapped around his middle, cutting him off. Dean had barely a second to process before Castiel shoved off the ground, his wings barely making a sound as they beat.

The forest was below them, zooming at a ridiculous pace, as they raced to the village up ahead. He was in the sky. Dean, the completely mature and level-headed adult he was, screamed.

Posting date: March 13, 2025

#destiel au reverse big bang #promo post #author: Altiria #artist:#ColorlessJay #destiel fic #destiel art

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slaytheday12 · 21 hours ago

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helloooo i have a request for youu

okay so walker scobell x reader where walker and the reader 'dated' when they were kids (like 11ish maybe?) but walker moved away, so they obviously stopped talking. then fast forward to now, he messages her on Instagram and at some point in the convo he says smth like "we never broke up" i hope this makes sense 😭

anyway i love youuu <33

We Never Broke Up

You and Walker had been inseparable as kids. From the moment you met at summer camp, there was an instant connection. At 11 years old, you didn’t know much about love, but whatever you had with Walker felt special. It was the kind of friendship where you’d pass notes, dare each other to do silly things, and sneak away from the group just to hang out under the stars. You’d even playfully called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, giggling at how grown-up it sounded.

But life had a way of pulling people apart. When camp ended, Walker moved across the country. You promised to stay in touch, but as time went on, the phone calls and texts became less frequent, and eventually, they stopped altogether.

Fast forward to now, and you were scrolling through Instagram, mindlessly tapping through stories. That’s when you saw him.

Walker Scobell.

You blinked, unsure if it was the same Walker you’d known all those years ago. But as you clicked on his profile, there was no doubt it was him. Except now, he was famous, starring in movies and making headlines. You hesitated for a moment before hitting the follow button, figuring there was no way he’d even notice.

To your surprise, he did.

The next day, a notification popped up: Walker Scobell has sent you a message.

Your heart raced as you opened it.

Walker: Wait... is this the same Y/N from camp? You: Depends. Are you the same Walker who screamed when we saw that raccoon by the cabins? Walker: 😭 Okay, fair, but yes. It’s me. Hi. You: Hi. Wow, it’s been forever. Walker: Yeah, like, what, 3 years? Maybe more?

The conversation flowed effortlessly. It was like no time had passed at all. You caught up on life how he got into acting, your own adventures, and everything in between. As the chat went on, the nostalgic warmth of your childhood friendship crept back in.

Then, out of nowhere, Walker dropped a bombshell.

Walker: You know... we never actually broke up. You: 😳 Walker: I mean, technically, right? We never said the words.

You laughed out loud, staring at the screen in disbelief.

You: Pretty sure moving across the country counts as a breakup, Walker. Walker: Nope. Doesn’t count unless someone says it. I’m just saying... we’re still technically dating. You: Oh, really? And what does that make us now? Walker: Long-distance couple reunited. 😌

You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks heating up.

You: You’re ridiculous. Walker: Maybe. But I mean it. You were my first girlfriend, and I’m pretty sure I never stopped liking you.

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at his message, unsure of what to say. Before you could respond, another message popped up.

Walker: Sorry if that’s too much. I just... I saw your profile and couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You took a deep breath before typing your reply.

You: It’s not too much. Honestly, I’ve thought about you too. A lot.

From there, the conversation shifted into something deeper, filled with confessions and laughter as you both navigated this unexpected reunion. By the end of the night, one thing was clear: whatever spark had existed between you as kids hadn’t faded it had only grown stronger.

Walker wasn’t just someone from your past anymore. He was part of your present, and maybe, just maybe, your future too.

A/N: u know i had to do my queens one first this my o.g girl i love her with my whole heart

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092

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probablysimpledreams · 1 day ago

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Another Chance (Dabi x reader)

a/n: grrrr all I can think about is Touya I just love him so so much!!! His ending and the entire LOV's endings still have me so :( and I've been imagining what it would look like if they all survived the war and got to live. Which led me to write up this fic where the reader was dating Dabi pre-war and didn't know he survived until Shoto sought you out and allow y'all to reunite!!! There's a hint of angst but overall it's very cutey because Touya deserves all the love!!!

wc: 1017

"I've killed over 30 innocent civilians. The firstborn of the Todoroki family. I am going to tell you all why I committed these heinous crimes."

Despite the words leaving the villain's mouth, you couldn't help but smile softly as you rewatched Dabi's reveal video for the fifth time. Work was slow and you were missing him a little more than usual today. Besides, it really was all you had left of him.

It had been almost three months since the war between heroes and villains went down, completely changing the world you once knew. This meant it was coming up on three months since you last saw your lover. Since the night he broke up with you, saying his time in this world was up and you should move forward. Without him.

"Excuse me," a young man says as he approaches the front desk you're seated behind. His voice snaps you out of your spiraling heartbroken thoughts. You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together and throwing on your customer service face. "Are you ______?"

"I am. How can I help you today?"

"My name is Shoto Todoroki." Your stomach drops. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

-----------------------------

For the first time in months, the week flew by. Today was finally the day you were going to reunited with Dabi. As excited as you were, anxiety was growing more and more inside your head. What if he didn't actually want to see you? What if you only make things harder for him? He was already suffering so much, maybe it would be better if you just went home and never came back and-

"He's going to be happy to see you." Shoto smiles as he places a hand on your shakey shoulder, breaking silence in the waiting room where you sat with his siblings and mother, all waiting for Touya to wake up from his nap.

"Yeah the idiot has been saying your name like every other day," Natsuo chimes in with a wide grin. "Still can't believe out of all his secrets, he had a gorgeous partner this whole time. You sure you're not some spy or something?" Fuyumi slaps his shoulder, shooting you an apologetic look before the two bicker. You chuckle at the sight, feeling your anxiety go down. You never imagined Dabi would have come from such a lively family.

"He's awake," a nurse approaches your group. You stand up with his siblings, Rei smiling softly at everyone before you all walk into his hospital room.

"Touya-nii," Shoto is the first to speak upon entering the room. "You have a guest."

"Yeah well fuck off," he grumbles, closing his eyes again despite just waking up.

"Well you heard him ______, guess we should head then," Natsuo teased loudly. Touya's eyes widen at hearing this, sitting up on the bed as his eyes scanned the room, landing on you with a shocked expression.

"________?" he asked in disbelief that you were standing here in front of him. Fuyumi and Natsuo snicker hearing his heart monitor rapidly beat, causing Touya to throw up a middle finger their way before returning his focus on you. You stood awkwardly as he sat awkwardly, unsure what to do next.

"Let's give them some privacy, yeah?" Fuyumi grabs Shoto and Natsuo before heading out the room, closing the door behind her. The silence persists until you speak up.

"Is it okay if I sit?" you ask, pointing to a spot on the large hospital bed. The size of the bed and private room must be a perk that comes with the Number One Hero's money paying for your medical bills. He nods, shakey bandaged hands smoothing out the bedsheets before you take a seat with him. "So Dabi-"

"Touya," he cuts you off. "You can call me Touya. At this point Dabi is gone." He sounded so nervous as he spoke it made your heart ache.

"Okay," you respond. "So Touya," you giggle upon hearing his heart rate monitor speed up again after saying his name. You take a shakey deep breath, collecting your thoughts. There was so much you wanted to say to him. You wanted to yell at him for leaving you. You wanted to cry, thanking the heavens and earth he was still alive. You wanted to make him promise he'd never do this to you again. Yet every time you went to open your mouth, no words would leave. Touya took notice to the conflicting emotions on your face each time you went to speak, the heavy weight of guilt tugging at his heart.

"I-I'm so sorry....." his words were quiet and it sounded like he was about to cry. He doesn't expect you to forgive me. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if you didn't love him anymore. His heart sank as he heard muffled sobs leaving your mouth. He couldn't look at you.

"Can we start over?" you smile as he finally meets your teary eyes. His bandaged hand reaches to cup your face, thumb rubbing away the tears that have fallen from your eyes. He felt didn't deserve another chance at life like this, but god he wanted it more than anything. This time it wasn't because of hatred or spite. No he wanted to live out of love. Out of love for his siblings. For his mother. For you. Especially for you.

"Yeah, I'd like that," his voice is shakey as he speaks. He feels insanely nervous as he asks his next question, as if it's the first time he's ever asked you this. "C-can I kiss you?"

"Please." You don't care how desperate you sound in your answer. You needed him to know how you've been longing for him all this time, how he hadn't left your thoughts once since the last night you saw him. He pulls you into a sweet, gentle kiss. His lips are more burnt than the last time you shared a kiss, but it doesn't matter. He still tastes the same. He's still the same man you love. And this time, neither of you were going to let the other get away.

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ohburgee · 2 days ago

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𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

yandere!villain x hero!reader

tw: Yandere theme, dark theme, obsession, violence, an: I was obsessed with villains having love interests for heroes, so I wrote for myself, hehe. sorry for being inactive for days I just enjoy the season of radiance in sky so I didn't get to continue writing this and I have 4 drafts now waiting and my class starts on Thursday.

He shouldn't form love, he shouldn't fall to his enemy, the hero, you.

One time when he was nearly death after he fought one of his rivals, when the gun was almost going to shoot him then you came into action and fought the rival of his then made them unconscious.

And you look at him in his hopeless state and then fall unconscious. After that you brought him to your place and healed him, you don't know why you're doing this but you're returning the favor when he also saves you from one of your enemies.

You know he is also one of your enemies but you are too kind-hearted and help him instead.

After healing him, he was awake and shocked to see you behind him watching him then he got up from your bed and looked at you with a serious face then left without a word.

Did he just leave without saying thank you jeez.

...

After a week now, he is behind the building watching you working at a small restaurant in front where he standing he watches you carefully and admires how hardworking you are and forgets that you are a hero to this world.

He didn't mind and forgot you being a hero, he wanted you to take your attention to him after you saved him he began to develop mysterious feelings then he started to dream about you and have hallucinations of you and that can't take his thinks of you.

He was going feral obsession.

He wanted to get you and grabbed you close to him and say how you make him like this, how you make your own enemy be like this to you, he would kidnap you and lock you in his place like a porcelain doll.

But it's not the time to let that happen, he gonna wait for the right time to get you fully to him.

How many weeks did he stalk you everywhere you went and watch you work, when some man tried to talk to you or wanted to get your number he went berserk and mysteriously killed the man and that caught your attention why every time a man you talk to, dies tomorrow.

And now he is standing behind the building admiring you as you see someone get inside the restaurant and see your friend guy as he hugs you and sits in front of you as you continue cooking.

As the villain keeps his eyes on you and then on the guy as you two talk and laugh, you are not being with him but he feels like you are not allowed to be with other men like you are owned by him, you are actually soon.

When your friend guy finished eating he got up and made a call sign to call him if you need anything you nodded and he said goodbye and got out of the restaurant.

The villain noticed it and wanted that friend guy of yours to vanish and you never meet him again, he took out the phone from his pocket and called someone after talking through his phone he hung up and put his both hands in his pocket as he admires you lastly and walks away, he has a plan.

...

After your work, your boss gives you the salary and you thank him and he pats your head, he is like a father figure to you so you two are very close.

As you said goodbye to him and to your other co-workers, you got out of the restaurant and walked through the street.

While walking you hear your phone notif and you take your phone out from your bag and see an unknown number on your screen you press the message, and it sends a voice message you click to play.

- Looks like your cat is in trouble *meow*

You hear a deep voice after the sentence the sound of your cat can be heard then the voice ends.

You immediately start running through the street, after a minute you reach your house it's not far from where you work.

You quickly ran towards your door and you opened it you tried to click the lights but to no avail is the electricity was out again.

You immediately went towards your bedroom and saw a person sitting on your bed while holding your cat.

"How much you really care for your precious kitten" you heard a low deep voice you saw your cat lying in their arms, and you heard a purr as you sensed their comfortable being in their arms.

"Who are you?" You ask as you prepare yourself to put your powers but then you hear chuckles.

"Don't worry I won't do anything bad, I'm not the villain who always does bad and I need peace too?" the person said and the curtain flowed from the wind the window was opened and the moon was casting inside your room.

Then you saw their face, it was the villain who saved you and the one you saved, you let your guard down a bit and he slowly carefully put the cat on your bed then he used his power to let the cat sleep, you gasped and looked at him.

"You should lock the window before you go, my love," he said and you looked at him confused as you heard the last word.

"Ha I know this is stupid," he said as he looked at you with a serious face but there was something he admired and wanted to get it.

"After I saved I was full of guilt why would I save a person who wants to kill me, the person who was actually my enemy I don't know why I did it, you are also with this kind of thinking too?" he said and he chuckled to what he just said.

You just looked at him, yes he was right you have also been thinking about why you saved him in the first place, he was your enemy, the villain yet you saved the person who was going to destroy the world.

"To be honest... I was going crazy when I had those fake imaginations of you there beside me" he said and he got up slowly walking towards you.

"Seeing you stand in front of me staring at me like you want something," he said as he walked circle to you while his eyes locked on you.

You want to run but your cat is there, If you run towards your bed and get your cat he can quickly grab you and it's stupid if you're going to leave your precious cat.

"So much in mind, my love," he said as he said that word again as you kept your eyes on your cat sleeping peacefully in your bed.

Till he moves closer to you, you feel his breaths on your ear, "As much I want to kill you right now" he slowly says and you suddenly feel his hands on your hair as he slowly takes a strand and circles it with his finger.

"I want to keep you" he whispered to your ear and you heard a swoosh sound as you immediately knew he was using his power.

You quickly kneel down and use your telekinesis to move the chair to hit him as he backs away from you and you quickly grab and carry your cat out of the room.

You run towards the other room and use your telekinesis to close the door and lock it, you run towards the window to unlock it but it won't budge as you see a dark smoke thing, he uses his powers to lock your house.

You put your cat still sleeping in the armchair as you think of escape you look at the window once again you can't get out since there are window bars as you get the idea, you look at the window and focus your both hands on the window glass as you manage to break it and you do it to the window bars as it slowly moving out and manage it to break it too.

Before you could grab your cat the door was busted open and saw him as your worst villain, it really made him even worse.

You try to fight him back by moving the furniture to hit him but he gets it and move away from him as you keep doing it till he wraps dark smoke around your wrist and you fall down to the ground.

"You really want to hurt your cat," he said as he walked to you and grabbed your both wrists making you get up from the ground he used the dark smoke to carry your cat as you both walked towards the living room.

He pushed you to the sofa and before you could get up a fair of smoke tied your both feet you looked at him, as he carefully put the cat slowly in the armchair behind, your cat still sleeping.

He turns around to face you he looks at your innocent self sitting on the sofa as you look up at him, "Don't worry your cat is fine, I'll let him sleep for long hours, cats loved sleeping right?" he says as he stares at you.

"I've seen this before," he said as he chuckled suddenly a phone rang and he looked in his pockets took his phone, and answered it.

While he talks on his phone you look around your house to find something to help you out here, when your eyes land on a black box and you look confused at it.

Then you realize your phone is still in your pocket so you slowly take it as you look up at him still on his phone his back in your view, you look at his back he has this muscle back that can clearly be seen from his black polo shirt as you stare at it you shake your head and turn back to get your phone, are you stupid right now.

When you manage to let your phone out, you press your friend's guy number and dial as it starts to vibrate your phone, you hear a sudden ringing and you slowly look up at him and he turns around to face you again he is done talking, and takes another phone from his pocket and you saw your name on your friend's phone.

Your eyes widen and as you stare at your friend's phone, you slowly look up to him "What did you do to him!!?" You ask him more like you scream.

"He was really annoying," he said as he put the phone behind the box, you looked at him scared, scared of what happened to your friend.

"Answer me, God damn it!" You yelled at him and he looked at you his amused face turning slowly into annoyed and serious, why do you want your friend? He keeps asking in his head.

His hand reaches to the box behind him and slowly opens as you look at his movements then slowly grab inside, your eyes widen to see half of it, and scream.

"Stop! Stop!" You turn your head down as you see half of your friend's head, he beheaded him, no no no.

The villain put the head back in the box and closed it, he looked at your shocked expression as you started to cry.

"No no don't cry" he kneeled down to you and grabbed your face to look at him as he wiped your tears, "He was in our way I don't want anyone to get us" he added as he stared at your teary eyes.

"Stop please" you whisper as your eyes get teary you try to move your head away from his hands, and he removes his hand from your head.

You look at him furious full of anger, and you feel the rage inside you, he sees your expression those innocent, rage eyes looking at him it makes him even more impressed and wants you more he loves seeing you hopeless and vulnerable, he wants to kiss that lips of yours.

You look away from his gaze and try to move an object to hit him but he quickly realizes you have that ability and grabs your head with both hands and suddenly catches your lips.

He finally devours that lips of yours, he is been waiting for this as he keep dreaming of you together with him and now he is reaching those dreams right now.

While kissing you, you whimpered trying to struggle and move your head away from him but he gripped your face to him, as he stopped you felt dizzy and tired slowly losing vision, did he use something to make you feel dizziness.

You saw dark smoke again as he used his power to make you dizzy, any minute you fell asleep.

Now you fall unconscious he moves your hair strands away from your face as he admires your vulnerable self.

He finally made his dreams true he can't wait for you to be with him, even if you don't want to he will find and look for a way to make you fully be with him. He is now more obsessed with you.

That's what the villain wants, to do terrible things to reach their goals, and you were his goal after all.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere fic #fem reader #female reader #yandere villain #yandere villain x reader #villain x hero #villain x reader #yandere obsession #yandere

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mixingandmelting · 23 hours ago

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Hii,

I'm not sure if your requests are open but I wanted to ask you if you could write a Dick Grayson x reader one where the reader is the daughter of one of Bruce's business partners and they meet at some sort of charity gala and he's instantly smitten with her.

Feel free to ignore this if you have too much to do.

Thanks ❤️

Witty, charming, and someone who matches his humor. He didn’t think he’d hit the jackpot tonight. Initially he had simply wanted to keep you company after seeing you all alone at your table. He expected either shy and sheltered or spoiled and flirty.

“A table for one at a gala?”

“What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m actually with three others?”

“Oh really? And they are…?”

“Me, myself and I.”

It comes with a pleasant surprise how the roles reverse and it’s him getting entertained by you. He lost track of how long he stayed at your table, unable to stop himself from chatting with you. You’re where the party’s at in this boring event and it confuses him how no one else has attempted to strike up a conversation with you for this long. Not that he’s complaining; he’s plenty satisfied to have you to himself. Your jokes draw genuine laughter from him while your laughter is just as infectious. The way your eyes sparkle and crinkle as you do- he rests his head onto his hand, admiring it and not wanting it to disappear. He can’t get enough.

There’s no barrier or rich people’s behavior seen despite you introducing yourself as the daughter of one of Bruce’s many business partners and him as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son not too long ago. Not even an hour in and you both are acting as friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Perhaps even more if he plays his cards right tonight. Take you out for a nice walk. Grab something to eat. If you’re into it, watch a movie. All of the ideas that come from him jesting about rich people never imagining or having no knowledge of what the common people do for fun only for you to snort about how else were you to learn to talk and behave like them then.

“Earth to Dick?”

Oops. He flushes under the smirk that dances on your lips, caught red-handed for day-dreaming his date with you. Not that you’d know the last part, but still.

“Am I starting to bore you yet?”

Yet? This whole time you were trying to get rid of him? The grin you give as you take a sip of whatever’s in your flute tells him otherwise. Returning one of his own, he’s about to respond before someone behind him calls your name.

Turning around are your parents, walking side-by-side with none other than Bruce who raises an eyebrow at him. Ugh. Great. He most definitely won’t hear the end of this one. Looking back at you, he catches a spark of wistfulness in your eyes that quickly disappears as you give him one last smile.

“Seems like that’s my cue.”

“Wait.” He’s conscious with his grip on your arm, gentle yet firm to grab your attention. “If you’re into it, mind giving me your number and we can hang out later?”

You bite your lip when you’re thinking. Good to know; definitely something that won’t leave his mind for a while. He tries not to show how giddy he is when you extend your phone out towards him. Giving him a tiny wave, you leave while telling him you would text him. The rest of the night goes uneventful as he mingles with others, half paying attention to what they say as he continues to think about you. Others including his family who wouldn’t stop giving him crap.

It’s once he reaches back to his place and comes out of the showers, he gets a text. Drying his hair with a towel in one hand, he looks to see your name with a sunglasses emoji under your number. His heart somersaults and he fist pumps the air. He can regret not sleeping tomorrow morning, for now all he wants is to talk to you and make the date between you and him a reality.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader

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hyperactively-me · 1 day ago

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regency era!ghost x reader au (part 8, finale) warnings: allusions to smut, reminder: 18+ please

The morning of your wedding dawned clear and bright, the early light casting a soft, golden glow over the estate. You woke with a flutter of nerves and excitement, the reality of the day finally settling in. It was the day you would marry Simon, the Duke who had once been your adversary and had now become your greatest love.

The bridal suite buzzed with activity and last minute arrangements as maids flitted about. Your dress, an exquisite creation, hung waiting for you. As you step into it, the fabric cool and smooth against your skin, you feel a rush of anticipation. The dress fit perfectly, accentuating your figure and making you feel like a princess in a fairy tale dream come true.

Your friends and mother gathered around, offering their congratulations and sharing in your joy. Girlish laughter and chatter filled the room, your heart overflowing with joy at the shared happiness permeating the room. Your mother adjusts your veil, her eyes misty with tears of happiness. “You look beautiful,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. “The Duke is a very lucky man.”

In the meantime, Simon stood in his study, trying to calm his nerves. He was dress immaculately in a tailored suit, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the nerves of the day. A butler, who had helped him get dressed and ready, took on an affectionate, familial tone with him.

“Nervous?”

Simon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “More than I ever thought possible,” he admits. “But also incredibly happy.”

As the hour approaches, the guests begin to gather in the grand hall of the estate, the space transforming into a vision of elegance and celebration. Flowers adorn every surface, their fragrance filling the air. The sunlight streams through tall, wide windows, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the hall.

It was time for the bride to make her way down the aisle.

As you made your way to the entrance of the hall, your heart pounded in your chest. Your father was waiting for you behind the doors to the entrance, giving you a teary smile as you took his arm.

As the doors opened, a hush fell over the crowd, all eyes turning to you. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your gaze immediately finding Simon at the end of the aisle. His eyes widened as he saw you, a look of pure love and awe on his face. You smile broadly in response, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

With each step you took, your nerves began to settle, replaced by a sense of rightness and peace. This was where you were meant to be, with Simon, your husband and true love. When you reach him, your father gives you one last squeeze before Simon takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. You could see the pure emotion in his eyes.

The ceremony began, the words from the officiant flowing over you like a beautiful dream.

Simon never once let go of your gloved hands the whole time the officiant was speaking, and he never once tore his gaze from you. You were beautiful. Actually, beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe you; you were perfect.

You never once let go of Simon’s hands, staring up at him with nothing but pure, unbridled joy. He was so handsome, so beautiful standing in front of you, your heart nearly burst. You squeeze his hands a few times, eliciting small smiles from him.

You exchange your vows, your voices steady and clear, each promise spoken made with unwavering certainty. “I promise to love you, honor you, and stand by you,” Simon says, his voice echoing and proud. “For as long as we both shall live.”

“And I promise to love you, support you, and share in all your joys and sorrows,” you reply, your heart full. “For as long as we both shall live.”

When the words are spoken, and the officiant declares you husband and wife, Simon turns to you, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands are gentle as they lift to your face, his fingertips brushing over your jawline before finding the edge of your veil. The fabric trembles slightly in his hands, and you realize he’s just as overwhelmed as you are.

He raises the veil, lifting it over your head with the utmost care, as if the act itself were sacred. The delicate lace catches the light for a brief moment before it settles behind you, leaving you bare before him.

His breath catches, and for a moment, he simply looks at you. His eyes search your face, his gaze drinking in every detail—the curve of your lips, the softness of your cheeks, the glimmer of your eyes.

Then, with a tenderness that melted every last wall around your heart, he cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed lightly over your cheeks, his touch reverent and steady. He leaned in slowly, his eyes locked with yours until the very last second.

The kiss was everything you had dreamed of—soft and warm, a perfect melding of your two souls who had journeyed through storms to find their calm. His lips moved against yours with gentle certainty, lingering as if to imprint the memory into his soul.

Applause and cheers erupted from the guests, but all you could hear was the beating of your heart and the softness of Simon’s lips against your own. It’s like firecrackers go off in your chest, the feeling purely and utterly indescribable as he kisses you. The kiss was filled with love, promise, and a sense of belonging that you had never felt so profoundly.

When you finally pull back, both of you breathless and dazed, Simon rests his forehead against yours, a smile growing on his face.

“Look at you,” he heaves, chuckling.

Heat creeps up your cheeks, your own smile widening. “Look at us,” you whisper back, the joy in your voice undeniable.

The guests began to cheer and clap louder, their excitement only spurring you on. Simon keeps hold of your hand as you both turn to face the crowd, the final words blessing your union as husband and wife ringing in your ears. Together, you walk down the aisle, surrounded by friends and family, their congratulations and well-wishes filling your senses.

As you step outside the grand hall, you’re greeted by a cascade of flower petals raining down from above. The warm sunlight bathes you both, casting a golden glow on this perfect day. The carriage, adorned with flowers and ribbons, waits to take you to the reception. Simon helps you inside, your hands never parting.

The reception is a spectacular affair, held in the gardens of the estate. The tables are set with fine china and crystal, the air filled with the scent of flowers, and the sound of laughter. You and Simon are seated at the head table, overlooking the sea of guests who have come to celebrate your union. There were heartfelt toasts from loved ones, joyous laughter, and endless dancing.

You shared your first dance as newlywed to a soft, melodic waltz. Simon took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He led you to the center of the floor, his gaze never leaving yours. Simon’s other hand found its place on the small of your back, pulling you closer. Your free hand rested on his shoulder, and for a moment, you both stood there, savoring the significance of the moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, bathed in the soft glow of the lights and the warmth of each other’s presence.

With a slight nod, Simon guided you into the dance. You moved together with a natural grace, your steps perfectly synchronized. Each movement across the floor was fluid and elegant. Simon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mixture of love, awe, and contentment. He held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, you felt like you truly were. Every twirl and dip was executed with perfect timing, and you still wondered how he got so good at dancing.

You could feel the gentle rise and fall of Simon’s chest with each breath he took. His scent, a mixture of sandalwood and something uniquely him, enveloped you, grounding you in the moment. His touch was firm yet tender, a constant reminder of his strength and his love.

As the night went on, you and Simon stole moments alone, savoring the newfound intimacy that came with being married. In a quiet corner of the garden, under a canopy of twinkling candlelight, Simon pulled you into his arms again. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” he said, his voice low and tender.

You reached up, brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead. “You’ve made all my dreams come true, Simon,” you replied, your heart brimming with love.

He leaned down, kissing you gently, the promise of a beautiful future shining in his eyes. The night air was cool, the stars bright above you, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

Eventually, the festivities began to wind down, and it was time for you and Simon to depart. Guests bid you good luck and farewell as you were led to the carriage waiting to take you both away.

You climbed into the carriage, Simon’s arm securely around you. As it pulled away, you looked back at the estate, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and excitement for the future. Simon kissed your temple, drawing you close. You snuggle into his side, embracing the warmth radiating from his body.

Suddenly, he lifts your gloved hand up to his face. He twists it in his grip, inspecting your hand as though it was something he could not understand and was desperately trying to figure out. Then, without a word, he brings his own hand up, his fingers splaying outwards as he carefully aligns them with yours. He studies the juxtaposition of your hands, his expression unreadable yet filled with a sense of wonder and amusement. His fingers are thick, large, calloused… you wonder how they would feel in—

“Wh- what are you do—?” you start.

“Shh.”

You shut your mouth and swallow thickly as his eyes come up to meet yours once again. You feel as though they pierce through your very soul. He returns his attention back to your hand, now flipping your hand so your palm faces his face.

Then, with the gentlest pressure, he starts to press his thumb into the palm of your hand. As his thumb massages your skin, a tingling sensation spreads through your hand, causing a rush of warmth to flood into your cheeks. You feel a flutter in your chest as his touch sends shivers down your spine. Each deliberate movement of his thumb against your skin feels both electrifying and intimate, causing your head to spin. Lost in the moment, you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes, their depths drawing you in like a magnet.

Then, just when you think you couldn't be more captivated by his touch, he surprises you once again. With a swift, unexpected motion, he guides your fingers up to his lips. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch, mesmerized, as his teeth catch the fabric of the fingertips of your glove.

You think you’re about to faint.

A strangled gasp falls past your lips as he bites down ever so gently and pulls the satin off with his teeth. He lets it dangle from his mouth for a moment, his gaze never leaving yours, as if challenging you to keep eye contact with him.

You’re breathing hard now, soft pants slipping from your lips that makes Simon’s heart pound and his cock throb in his pants.

With a flicker of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, he finally releases the glove from his teeth, allowing it to fall to the ground in a soft whisper of fabric.

Then, without hesitation, he brings your bare hand back to his lips, his touch gentle yet firm as he presses a barely perceptible kiss to the palm of your hand. The feather-light sensation sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason.

He then folds your hand, displaying your knuckles. He runs his lips over the ridges of your knuckles, letting his tongue slip out to trace the contours with tantalizing precision. Each delicate touch sends a jolt through you, left breathless and wanting, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the primal desire that burns hotter with every passing second.

Without warning, Simon slips his hand around your wrist and yanks you forward, causing you to fall on top of his chest. You squeak as you land on top of him, your body perfectly molding against his. His arms fasten around you in a protective embrace, holding you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

With a gentle touch, he lifts your chin, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw with feather-light precision. His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume all reason.

“Si- Simon—" you whisper weakly, trying your best to keep yourself together. “We— this… in the carriage?”

“Mhm,” is all he says, seemingly amused at how riled up you’re getting from his touch. If you’re this flustered just from that, he can’t wait to see how much further unraveled you’ll be when—

“Kiss me again.”

Your voice trembles with both desire and anticipation, and Simon's eyes darken gleefully. Without wasting a second, he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that is both tender and searingly intense.

The carriage rocks gently as it moves along the path, but you barely notice. All that matters is the feel of Simon's lips on yours, the way his tongue shoves its way inside your mouth, the feeling of his hands all over you.

Simon's hands roam up and down your back, pulling you even closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. You can feel the hard surface of his chiseled chest against your own, his heart beating wildly in sync with yours. Your fingers find their way into his hair, gripping tightly as the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent. He starts to slide his hands up your thigh, squeezing the plump flesh, and you're positively aching for him.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, thoroughly whipped from the intensity of your kiss.

Simon’s eyes bore into yours, filled with a love so profound it makes your heart thump wildly.

"Tonight," he says, his voice a solemn whisper, "I will make you mine in every way."

Your breath catches at the promise in Simon’s words. The weight of his vow settles between you, thick and heavy with anticipation. He smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips that sends another shiver through you.

The carriage ride to his— your— estate is both torturously slow and blissfully short. Every moment stretched and savored, yet filled with an urgency that made you ache for what was to come. As you approached the estate, your heart pounded in your chest with the same fervor as the night you first realized you loved Simon.

He sat beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours, the heat of his palm grounding you. His thumb traced idle patterns over your knuckles—a silent conversation, a quiet assurance that he was as impatient as you, though he bore it with a composure that made you flush. He caught your gaze more than once, his lips twitching into that maddening smile that promised a thousand things he wasn’t saying aloud.

When the estate came into view, its tall spires and ivy-covered walls lit with the golden glow of twilight, your breath hitched. The grandeur of the place was breathtaking, but it wasn’t the imposing beauty of the building that stole your breath—it was the thought of it being your home. Your sanctuary. Your beginning with Simon.

The carriage came to a halt, and before the footman could move, Simon was already out, turning to help you down. His hands were steady and warm, wrapping around your waist as he guided you with the kind of care that made your chest ache. He lingered a second too long, his hands firm but gentle, before setting you on the ground.

"You’re home," he said softly, his voice low and rich, sending a thrill right through you.

- - -

The two of you lounged in the gardens behind the estate, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. It painted the sky in hues of amber and blush, the soft light catching in Simon’s hair as he leaned back against the trunk of a sprawling oak tree. He looked utterly at ease, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his boots discarded in the grass.

You sat between his legs, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around you. The scent of jasmine and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the faint saltiness of the breeze rolling in from the distant river. Simon’s chin rested on the crown of your head, and you felt his chest rise and fall steadily against your back.

"Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?" you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper, as if speaking louder would shatter the peace of the moment.

"All the time," he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. "Especially when I have you like this. Reminds me how lucky I am."

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, arching a brow. "You? Lucky? I think it’s the other way around."

Simon chuckled, the deep, rich sound vibrating through you. He tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer. "No, it’s definitely me. You could have had anyone."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "No. It was just...you. The way you see the world. The way you see me," you teased, tilting your head back to meet his gaze fully.

Simon’s smile softened, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to memorize you all over again. He reached up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, his touch as gentle as ever. You leaned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm before lacing your fingers with his.

The two of you sat in silence for a while after that, watching as the sun dipped lower, the sky transitioning to shades of lavender and indigo. The first stars began to appear, faint but steady, twinkling above like tiny promises.

Simon’s fingers played idly with yours, his voice breaking the quiet. "Do you think we’ll ever grow tired of this? Just…being together like this?"

You shook your head, a soft smile curving your lips. "Never," you said firmly. "This is everything. You are everything."

Simon’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your temple. "Good," he said, his voice low and content. "Because I don’t ever plan on letting go."

He shifted slightly, his arms loosening before he leaned forward, scooping you effortlessly into his lap. The movement drew a squeal of surprise from you, quickly followed by laughter.

“Simon!” you exclaimed, swatting lightly at his chest. “You could warn a person before manhandling them like that.”

He chuckled, his hands resting securely on your hips to keep you steady. “I could,” he replied with an easy grin, “but where’s the fun in that?”

You twisted to look up at him, an exaggerated glare on your face. “One of these days, I’m going to get you back for all your mischief, you know.”

Simon’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he tilted his head, pretending to consider your words. “Hmm, I suppose I’ll just have to remain on high alert at all times then. Though I have to say, I’m not terribly afraid of your vengeance.”

“Not afraid?” you scoffed, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “You should be!”

“Hm, i’s hard to be intimidated when you’re sitting in my lap like this," Simon teased, leaning in until his nose brushed against yours.

Your cheeks flushed, and you pushed at his chest with a laugh. “You’re impossible!”

“And yet, here you are, willingly sitting in my lap,” he said, his voice smug as he leaned back, pulling you with him.

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement.

Simon’s grin softened into something more tender as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his hands sliding to hold yours.

As the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of teasing and quiet moments, the garden around you seemed to hold its breath, basking in the warmth of your shared laughter and affection.

part 7 <

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