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Hex Machine - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Viktor makes a machine to cheat human exhaustion.

1.9k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. Fucking Machine. Spit. Dom Viktor. Light Choking. Dirty Talk. NSFW.

There was a rather sheepish knock at your door. You were puzzled, you were not usually disturbed at night. Viktor, your boyfriend, was busy working on something that he wouldn’t reveal to you, and your friends hadn't made any plans with you this evening. You slid on your slippers and walked through your hall to answer the door. You opened it to Jayce. He looks startled at your answering and is flushed pink. That’s strange, he must have some urgency.

“Viktor needs you. In the lab. He’s uhm, finished making your surprise.” He stammers.

“Jayce, you look red, are you okay?”

“I helped him make it; I didn’t realise it was for-.” He replies, “I thought it was a drill.”

You are thoroughly confused as you say your goodbyes to Jayce and close the door. You hurriedly undress and redress and head outside, carried by your curiosity. You take the fastest walk to the lab, knocking on the door once you get there. There’s a few more seconds of silence than usual as you wait for the door to be opened from inside. There’s a mechanical whirring sound coming from within which pauses and ceases as you hear footsteps approaching. The door opens.

“(Y/N)! Jayce sent you. Yes, good.” Viktor ushers you inside, sliding a hand around your back, perching his palm on your waist. He grins widely.

In the middle of the lab, covered with a large blue sheet of fabric is some strange contraption.

“Viktor, what is this?” You ask, a little bewildered. It is larger than you expected and takes up the majority of the lab.

“It’s a surprise. A rather large one, which I am sure you will be very fond of. Guess.”

“…a drill?” You test the waters.

Viktor scoffs and stifles a laugh, “Jayce got to you first, hm.”

He approaches the cloaked object and reaches out his arm to swipe its cover away, somewhat like a magician. With a swoop the fabric falls to the floor. You still have no idea what it is.

“It’s a-?” You attempt, not wanting to disappoint in your misunderstanding.

Viktor looks amused.

“It’s my most wonderful creation and you can’t even tell what it is?” He smirks. “You’ll understand once you are in it”

“In it?”

“Undress yourself.”

“Right here in the lab?”

“Are you curious Miss (Y/N)?”

“Yes.”

“I repeat, undress for me.”

You did as you were told, slowly and intentionally seductive as he watched you intensely. You removed your clothes layer by layer. You enjoyed it when he was quite stern with you, you liked it when he took control.

“This is the hex machine. “He proudly announces.

“…the hex machine?” You giggle.” Viktor that name...”

“You won’t be laughing when I have you strapped to it, Miss (Y/N).”

Viktor reaches out for your hand and guides you towards the machine. It has a large black frame with a sling in the middle like a swing set. Positioned underneath is a strange piston on a rail. The seat of the swing sits around hip height to Viktor and suspends you above ground with both of your legs spread and fixed to material stirrups.

“Viktor, what kind of a machine is this?”

“I told you, the hex machine.”

“What is it used for?”

“…hex.” You sense he found the joke as funny as you did. “Here, I’ll help you into it.”

You grab the frame with both hands and lift yourself up as Viktor adds support to your waist. You fit into the seat nicely and it supports your back in such a way that you are leant backwards at a slight angle. Quite a revealing angle.

“And now you put your feet in the stirrups”

It was impossible not to feel vulnerable in the position he was placing you in, effectively spread eagled in the centre of the lab, supported and pulled apart with slings and metal poles. Viktor admired you, tied up for him. Your soft skin made a contrast to the harshness of the metal and roughness of the fabric.

“I have always wanted to try this position with you, but my leg never allowed it.”

He steps forward, pushing his hips into yours, your wetness showing on the deep colour of his trousers as you press against him.

“With you being supported like that, I can have you exactly how I want to.”

At this, he begins to unbutton his trousers and pulls down his zip. He slides the trousers over his hips, presenting you with a view of him in his underwear, with his impressively straining cock threatening to push upwards and through his waistband at any moment. He releases himself, springing free, and kicks his underwear out of the way of the mechanism. He raises his hand to your face.

“Spit” he demands.

You spit into his hand, and he reaches down and coats himself, stroking from base to tip, ensuring he is full covered. You see him as he watches you, the lust in his face and twitch in his body as he takes in your magnificence. To see you so available to him made him twitch once more. The confident, intelligent, strong woman that you were, immobilised in a machine intended fully for his pleasure. It was almost too much.

“I am afraid Miss (Y/N) that this use of the hex machine will be entirely for my benefit. I am going to detail the order of events as I am sure you will be as curious as I about the capabilities of a machine like this.”

He speaks deliberately as he continues to stroke himself.

“Firstly, I am going to prepare us both, then I am going to fuck you. Then I am going to demonstrate the true purpose of the machine. Is this understood?”

You nod.

“Obedient and obliging, my perfect experiment.”

Viktor raises two fingers to his mouth, coating them with his tongue before lowering them to you and inserting them slowly. You feel them stretching you. With the position the machine is forcing you into, they feel deeper than usual. He has engineered perfect comfort, perfect utility, perfect sex. He quickens and you watch as his forearms move in rhythm, the arms of his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You feel yourself soak his fingers. He notices, acknowledges your readiness. Viktor lines himself up with your entrance, carefully considering the angle and familiarising himself with the heights of the machine.

“Are you sure this is comfortable?” He asks, “If you need any adjustments, I can fix it.”

“I am as comfortable as I can be with you pressing into me like that,” You hiss, trying to push forwards to allow him to enter.

“Patience” He chuckles, mockingly pushing against you so you can feel only the tip.

“Viktor please.” You plead, pushing forwards again to try to use the rocking motion of the swing to enlighten you.

“Besides, if you wanted to use force to get what you want, you would have to push-“At this, Viktor firmly pushes you, “backwards.”

You swing backwards, swooping back forwards in opposite motion, landing straight in alignment with him, he enters you fully and you both choke out in moaned surprise. As you are fully filled with him, he grabs your thighs, stabilising the swing. He holds you firmly, grinding into you with his hips, finding deeper depth and stretching you, before pushing you backwards once more.

With each thrust timed perfectly and with Viktor keeping his balance with the strenuous lifting handled, he fucks you with complete energy and passion, bouncing you on him with force. You are struggling to catch your breath, being batted from airborne to filled within seconds repeatedly.

“Oh fuck (Y/N), this is even better than I had imagined”

You were held firm by the restraints holding you up, with your view of Viktor using you to your full capabilities, immobilised like some poor fly in a spider’s web. The slapping of the two of your bodies coincided with your vocalised pleasure. The wet sounds filled the lab. It sounded absolutely indecent. You wondered at which point Jayce figured out the machines purpose. You wondered if Viktor explained it to him, or if he left the room in blushed hurry as he slowly realised his friends’ intentions - all his hard work, just to convert you into an easily accessed object for his pleasure.

Viktor continues to thrust and push and watching him work himself in and out of you has your release building. The growls that are escaping his throat are raw and needy.

“I’m going to fill you”, he insists, “I will have you walk away from here dripping, do you understand?”

“Yes!” You cry out, “please, I need it.”

‘Need what?”

“Need you.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, you Viktor. I want you to fill me.”

At your request, he slams into you hard, and harder and harder, until he’s panting and sweating and right on the edge. His hips are doing all the work, and his free hand is wandering and desperate. He gropes at you, trailing over your breasts, before settling on your neck lightly.

“You are mine. All of you is mine, the only thing I will share you with are my inventions”

You do your best to clench your internal muscles around him, trying to pull him into you, trying to regain some control in this domination he is offering you, trying to send him over the edge prematurely. You give in, relaxing your core, allowing him to take you exactly how he pleases.

“I am yours, Viktor.”

He halts your movement on the last swing, securing himself deeply to the base inside of you before releasing, filling you fully. His eyes roll back in pleasure. Viktor is gasping for breath as he put all his strength into the final thrust, he uses the frame to steady himself. He kisses your forehead, peppering your face and lips too before slowly pulling out. You feel the hot rush of his warmth seep out, dripping down your entrance and onto the lab floor. You feel desperate for your release. The final few thrusts have left you wanting and needy.

“Viktor, please, please I’m not done.”

“I told you to be patient.” He smirks, mesmerised by watching you drip. He steps away from the machine, altering the rail along the bottom. He approaches his desk, removing something from a box. His back is to you, though as he turns you make out the shape and length of a very familiar object. He mounts the dildo to the rig before adjusting it once more, this time lining it up with your entrance. He returns to his desk, retrieving a controller.

“I can assure you, (Y/N), you will be more than satisfied.” He presses the button and humorously announces, “Behold the power of the hex machine.”

The machine whirs and the dildo begins to thrust, mimicking Viktor’s pace. It lubricates itself using the joint wetness that pools inside of you and slides in and out with ease. Viktor seats himself at his desk chair, shuffling along to you to achieve a better view. The dildo is smothered, foaming and relentless, a perfect imitation of Viktor. He reclines in satisfaction, legs propped up, as you are overwhelmed over and over and over again.

“Machines supplement where human biology fails us. Let’s see how long you last, Miss (Y/N).”

Tag List-

@veru-boom

[fanservices123]

Failure Analysis Lab Mumbai, Pune, Nashik,Chennai,Hyderabad,India

[kirammanswifey]

wedding planning struggles with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: did i told you guys that i love this dynamic? because i do, i reaaally do, it's just so comforting describing this kind of mundane and simple problems. i'll exploit this dynamic much more, exciting scenarios are coming. as you already know request are open ;)

marriage proposal link:

Viktor

The excitement of planning your wedding with Viktor fills you with energy. From choosing the flowers to the menu, every detail matters. You've spent hours discussing colors, flavors, and sensations, but lately, you feel like Viktor isn’t sharing your enthusiasm. Today is one of those days when, sitting next to him in the lab, you try to capture his attention.

"Viktor, what do you think about the tablecloths? Do you think we should go with an ivory tone or something more vibrant, like a sky blue?" you ask, flipping through fabric samples.

He barely glances up from his project. "Whatever you prefer, darling."

You sigh and move on to the next question. "And the menu? We have options between a fish dish or meat. Which one do you think the guests will like more?"

"Whatever you decide will be fine," he responds with little interest, his eyes still focused on his work.

Frustrated, you decide to test him. "What do you think about the paper napkins? I was thinking of choosing ones with a floral pink print. Do you like the idea?"

Without looking up, he murmurs, "Yeah, sounds good."

Your patience runs thin. "Viktor! Paper napkins are for picnics, not for our wedding!"

He finally stops, looks at you, clearly confused. "Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I was focused on this experiment."

"Exactly, Viktor. You’re always focused on something else. You don’t care about the wedding, do you? No matter what I ask, you always say that whatever I prefer is fine. Does this marriage even matter to you?" The words come out with more force than you intended, but your frustration takes over.

Viktor puts down his tools and turns to face you. "That’s not true. Of course it matters. But you’re better at these things. I trust you to make the right choices."

"It’s not just about making the right choices," you reply, your voice shaking. "I want you to be involved, to do this with me. I don’t want to do it alone."

Viktor rubs his forehead, clearly searching for the right words. "I’ve been involved. I suggested we have the wedding in the Undercity, in the old market where I used to spend my childhood. I wanted that place to have meaning for us. But you refused, you said it was dangerous."

You sit in silence for a moment, processing what he said. "I did it because I want our guests to be safe. Not because I don’t care about what that place means to you."

"I understand, but that was my way of participating, and I felt rejected," he says, his voice low but full of emotion.

Your frustration turns into sadness, and you can't stop the tears from filling your eyes. "Viktor, this is important to me. I just wanted you to feel as excited as I do."

Seeing your tears, Viktor quickly approaches and takes your hands in his. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care. This marriage means the world to me, just as much as it does to you. If I’ve been distant, it’s just because I sometimes get lost in my work. But I promise to be more present."

You embrace him, feeling the warmth and sincerity of his words. "That’s all I wanted to hear."

He gently strokes your hair, whispering, "We’ll do this together. From now on, I’ll be your partner in all of this, not just in the big things, but in every little detail."

You smile through the tears, feeling the weight of the tension lift. "Thank you, Viktor. I love you."

"And I love you," he replies, his voice filled with tenderness. "I always will."

You both remain in each other's arms, knowing you've found mutual understanding, strengthening your bond and the excitement for the day that is to come.

Jinx

Planning a wedding with Jinx is, to say the least, a roller coaster. You're sitting in your small living room, surrounded by catalogs, fabric samples, and endless task lists. Jinx is on the floor, playing with a knife and tossing it in the air, seemingly uninterested in the process.

"Jinx, can you focus for a second? We need to decide on the wedding theme," you say, trying to get her attention.

She shoots you a quick look, a mischievous smile on her face. "I already told you, we're having a wedding with explosions and fireworks. What else do we need?"

You sigh, trying to stay calm. "Yes, but we need more details. What colors do we want to use? What style of decoration?"

"Colors... hmm," Jinx leans back, holding the knife above her head. "I like blue, you know, like my hair. And pink, because it's fun. How about those?"

"Blue and pink, fine," you say, jotting it down in your notebook. "And about the food? We need to decide on the menu."

Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly bored. "Food? Whatever, something that'll keep them energized to dance all night."

You stop and look at her intently. "Jinx, are you really interested in this? Because I feel like you're not taking any of it seriously."

She sits up quickly, her smile fading a bit. "Of course, I'm interested. It's just... all this planning stuff isn’t really my thing. I like spontaneous things, you know?"

"But this is important to me," you say softly but firmly. "I want it to be special for you too."

Jinx goes silent for a moment, her gaze softening. "Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think I don’t care. I just have a hard time sitting still and thinking about things so... organized."

You move closer to her, taking her hands. "I know, and I understand. But I want this day to be perfect for both of us. I need your help to make it happen."

She looks at you, her blue eyes shining with sincerity. "Alright, toots. I’ll do it. You just have to guide me a little, okay? I’m not great at this, but if it’s important to you, I’ll do it."

You smile and hug her, feeling her vibrant energy now more focused on you. "Thank you, sweets. It means a lot."

"We’re gonna make this wedding explosive, in a good way," she says, grinning again with that unmistakable spark. "And I promise I won’t blow anything up. At least not too much."

You both laugh, feeling like the planning now has a unique touch, with Jinx’s essence but also with the care and love you share.

Vi

The excitement for the wedding has you glowing. You've spent the whole day talking to your parents about the plans, thrilled about every luxury they can include thanks to their generosity. When you walk into the apartment you share with Vi, you're euphoric, eager to tell her every detail.

"Vi, you have no idea what we're going to have at the wedding!" you exclaimed, dropping your purse on the couch and walking over to her. "My parents are handling everything. We’re going to have imported flowers, a special performance from Seraphine, and even a chocolate fountain. It’s going to be amazing!"

Vi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed sharpening her fighting gloves, looked up. "And what else? Are they bringing unicorns too?" Her tone was clearly sarcastic.

You stopped, surprised by her reaction. "What do you mean by that?" you asked, crossing your arms.

She shrugged, setting the glove aside. "Nothing, just that it seems like your parents are turning this wedding into more of a show than a celebration."

"That’s not fair, Vi," you said, feeling defensive. "They just want the best for us."

Vi sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "Sure, the best for their perfect daughter, who’s lucky enough to get to marry someone like me."

The comment hit you harder than you expected. "What are you implying? That my parents are doing this just out of obligation? Vi, they support us, and I... I’m happy they’re helping. I don’t understand why you have to be like this."

"Why do I have to be like this?" Vi stood up, her voice rising slightly. "Because this isn’t what I imagined. I didn’t want us to have to depend on them for everything. I wanted to give you a wedding I could afford, something that came from me, not from them."

Vi’s words took you by surprise. You felt like the conversation was going in a different direction than you had expected. "Vi, my parents just want to help."

She shook her head, taking a step toward the window. "You don’t understand. It’s my pride, deer. It hurts that I can’t give you what you deserve. Every time you talk about the things they’re paying for, it reminds me of how little I have to offer you."

You walked over to her, taking her hand and forcing her to look at you. "Vi, you’ve given me more than any luxury or extravagance ever could. You’ve given me your love, your support, your strength. I don’t care who’s paying for the wedding, because the only thing that matters to me is that you’ll be by my side."

Vi’s eyes softened, her expression shifting from frustration to something gentler. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "I just... feel so useless sometimes, seeing them do everything."

"Vi, you’re not useless," you said firmly, caressing her cheek. "You are everything I’ve ever wanted. This day will be ours, no matter who’s paying for it, because the most valuable thing to me is marrying you."

She leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, emotional kiss. "Thank you for understanding," she whispered against your lips. "I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this day special, even if I can’t pay for it with money."

"It’s already special because it’s with you," you replied, hugging her tightly. "I love you, Vi."

"And I love you, more than words can say," she said, holding you as if she never wanted to let go.

You both stayed there, embraced, letting the tension fade, knowing that, no matter the problems, together you could overcome anything.

Caitlyn

The room was adorned with a golden glow, the walls decorated with elegant tapestries, and the wedding plans scattered across the table, along with details and proposals. You were excited, visualizing what your wedding day would be like, but you couldn’t help but notice that Caitlyn seemed quieter than usual. Her gaze seemed fixed on the corner of the room.

"Cait? What do you think of these centerpieces?" you asked with a smile, wanting to share the excitement of the planning. "We could choose lavender flowers, something simple but elegant, right?"

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. Her fingers played with the edge of her glass, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Finally, she looked up at you with a forced smile, which didn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes.

"It sounds good, although... I'm not sure my parents would agree with something so... simple," she said with a tone you couldn't ignore.

A knot formed in your stomach. You knew Caitlyn came from an aristocratic family, with many traditions that were expected to be upheld, but you never imagined that external pressure could interfere so much with something so important to both of you.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, already sensing the growing tension in the conversation.

Caitlyn took a deep breath, standing up and walking toward the window as if she needed space to organize her thoughts. "My family... expects us to have a wedding that represents our status, something worthy of tradition. I don’t know if they would accept the venue being decorated with lavender flowers..." her voice lowered as she continued speaking. "They want everything to be big and glamorous, with high-profile guests. They think a simple wedding, even if it’s on our own, doesn’t reflect what’s expected of us."

Your heart raced. You knew Caitlyn’s parents weren’t exactly easy to please, but you never imagined their expectations would overshadow what you both wanted for this day.

"But... Cait," you began, trying to understand, "isn’t this our wedding? Why do we have to do it the way they want? I don’t want a celebration that doesn’t feel like ours. I want it to be something of ours, not just a display of status."

Caitlyn turned toward you, her face now more serious. "I know! I know, and I agree with you. But I can’t disrespect them, not without consequences. They... pressure me in ways you don’t understand. If we don’t meet their expectations, it would look like a failure for our family."

The tone of her voice grew more desperate, more exhausted. You knew she didn’t want to give in, but you also understood the internal battle she was trapped in, between the love she felt for you and her loyalty to her family.

"So, you want our wedding to be some kind of act to impress your parents, instead of what we really want?" Your voice cracked as you asked, feeling the dream you had for that day crumbling.

Caitlyn quickly walked over to you, taking your hands firmly, her gaze filled with regret. "It’s not that. I don’t want that. It’s just... I can’t stop feeling the pressure my parents put on me. They have so much power, and I don’t want to hurt them in a way that will cause us more problems."

The pain in her eyes broke your heart. You knew what that meant to her, the conflict between the love she had for her family and her desire to do things her way.

"I love you, Cait. And I want this wedding to be ours, not a show for them," you said, trying to calm the storm that was brewing in the air. "Cait, I know you’re strong, and I know we can face all of this together. It’s just not fair."

A tear fell from her left eye, something you had never seen before. Caitlyn, so strong and determined, now seemed vulnerable, lost amidst her own expectations and those of others.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I just want you to be happy. I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you. I’m just so trapped in this... and I’m scared that everything will end up being what they want, not what we want."

In that moment, you knew it was time to set aside the anger and hold her. She was having a hard time, caught in a difficult situation, struggling to find a way to satisfy both your desires and her parents’ expectations.

"We can do this, Cait," you whispered, your arms gently caressing her delicate back, and she leaned into you, resting on the person she loved and needed most at that moment. "If we support each other, we’ll find a way. The wedding will be everything we dreamed of, and what your parents expect, but always within what really matters to us. It doesn’t have to be a sacrifice if we do it together."

Caitlyn looked at you for a long moment, as if evaluating your words, evaluating your feelings. Then, with a soft smile, she cupped your chin and kissed you. "I promise I’ll do it. We’ll do it together, like always."

The tension that had filled the room disappeared, and all that remained was mutual understanding and the certainty that, no matter how many difficulties there were, they were willing to face them together. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Jayce

The flowers, the music, the menu... everything seemed to be taking shape, but there was something in the air, a growing sense of discomfort that you couldn’t ignore.

"Jayce, do you really think we need to invite all those people?" you said, the fatigue and frustration beginning to seep into your voice. "Your guest list... it's huge!"

Jayce, who until that moment had been reviewing the papers with enthusiasm you couldn’t share, looked up at you, smiling with a mix of confidence and energy. "It’s Piltover, darling! We need to make this wedding a big deal, something everyone will remember. We have to invite the most influential figures, the city leaders, the people who really matter."

Your breath quickened. You knew Jayce was a man of great ambition and vision, but at that moment, you couldn’t help but feel dismissed by his words. As if all that mattered to him was image and status, and not the fact that this day was so much more personal for both of you.

"I don’t understand, Jayce," you said, trying to keep calm, but your tone came out firmer than you’d expected. "Why is it so important who’s there? Why can’t we do something more intimate, with the people closest to us, with the ones who really matter?"

Jayce frowned, dropping the papers on the table and approaching you with an intensity that made you feel vulnerable. "Are you saying you don’t want to make this a big event? That you don’t want all of Piltover to know what our union means?"

"No, I’m not saying that," you replied, your voice trembling with the accumulated frustration. "What I want is for this day to be something we remember, not what Piltover thinks of us. I want a wedding with meaning, with the people who truly matter to us, not a party to impress others."

Jayce crossed his arms, his jaw tense. You could see his mind starting to process your words, but you could also tell there was something inside him that refused to give in. "This is important! This isn’t just a party, it’s a statement. We’re talking about our future, our position in this city. Everything we do, everything, reflects who we are."

A wave of anger took over you. Each word from Jayce felt like it dug deeper, as if he was ignoring your own wishes, your own feelings. "You’re obsessed with appearances, Jayce! Everything always has to be big, flashy, as if only that has value! I... I just want a day that feels real, something that’s ours, something that reflects who we are as a couple, not a damn parade of names and titles."

The air immediately grew tense, and Jayce’s gaze darkened. "You know what? I don’t understand why you’re so upset. This is an opportunity to show everyone what we’ve achieved, to show them we matter, that we’re not just... I don’t know, residents of Piltover. Doesn’t it matter to you that this day is on par with what we’ve built?"

You stood in silence for a moment, the anger mixed with pain. There was something in Jayce that you didn’t want to lose sight of, something you wanted him to understand. "It’s not about that, Jayce," you said, now calmer but still hurt. "It’s about me wanting you, about this day being for us. I don’t want every decision we make to be based on what others think or what’s expected of us. I want this to be our day, with the people we love, not all those... important people."

A sigh escaped his lips, and for a moment, it seemed like he finally understood. But then, his voice grew softer, but still full of frustration. "I’m not asking you to forget what you want. I just want you to recognize that this is bigger than us, that what we’re doing doesn’t just involve us, but an entire city. What we build here can be remembered, and I want everyone to see it."

The conflict grew bigger in your chest, as if you were caught in a tug of war between what you both wanted. Finally, unable to take it anymore, you said, your eyes full of tears from the intensity of the moment: "I don’t want to stay with someone who only thinks about that. I don’t want this day to be just a showcase. I want it to be something more, something... real."

Jayce looked at you, and for a moment, he thought everything was lost. But then, something in his eyes changed. He came closer, took your hands with a delicacy you hadn’t expected, and in his voice, now softer, whispered: "I’m sorry... I didn’t think about how you’d feel. I... I just want what’s best for us, for you. And I want it to be perfect, I promise. But... I know we also need something that we want, something that makes us feel complete, not just everyone else."

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes allowed you to relax a little. His frustration was still there, but now he seemed willing to find the balance you both were seeking. "We’ll do it our way," he said with a sigh. "I don’t want to get lost in all of this. I want it to be your wedding as much as mine."

Then, with a slight smile, you hugged him. You didn’t know how the day would be, but you knew you’d face it with Jayce by your side, because what truly mattered was what you both wanted, together.

Ekko

The wedding had stopped being just a dream. All the preparations were becoming more real, but as you moved forward, you realized that Ekko's vision of the event was not at all what you had imagined.

One day, after arguing with the organizers about the floral arrangements, you came home to find Ekko looking at some drawings he had on the table, extravagant sketches with half-written ideas. It seemed like he was researching something, but as soon as you walked in, his expression changed.

"What's wrong?" you asked, noticing the slight tension in his face.

Ekko looked at you with a knowing smile, but he didn't seem as enthusiastic. "I was thinking about how to make our wedding something truly unique... I don't want to follow all those boring standards."

You walked over, confused but curious. "Boring standards?"

"Yeah, why do we have to do something like everyone else? Why not have the wedding in an abandoned place in Zaun, where everything started for us? An art show and an improvised banquet for those in needs instead of... this?" he said, pointing to the guest list and the more traditional ideas you had considered.

Ekko's proposal left you in shock. He was serious. A wedding in the Undercity? Full of improvisation? At that moment, an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in your chest. "What? Ekko, are you joking? What's so special about that? It's dangerous, and it's not what I want for us!" You spoke with awareness, since both of you had been born and lived in the Undercity, and you knew better than anyone that it would be quite risky to celebrate the wedding there—interruptions were the least of your concerns.

Ekko looked at you with a mix of surprise and frustration. "I thought you were like me. Why do you like all these... conventional things so suddenly? These ordinary weddings that mean nothing. Didn't you want something authentic, something that truly reflects who we are?"

Ekko's words hit deep, and for a moment, you felt hurt. What did he mean by saying traditional weddings meant nothing? Did he think your dreams and wishes for that day were worthless?

"Ekko..." Your voice trembled a little as you approached him. "Does our wedding mean nothing to you? Is all of this just... a waste of time?"

The silence between you two stretched, and his eyes softened. He slowly approached, taking your hands gently. "No, babe, it's not that. I don't want you to think I don't care. It's just that... I want it to be unique. I want our day to reflect us, our story, who we are. And who we are doesn't fit society's rules."

You sat down, letting Ekko's words sink deeper. It was true, he'd always been someone who fought against the established. Someone who dared to dream the impossible, to challenge what others expected of him. But did that really mean that the wedding you had dreamed of would be lost?

"I just want... I want it to be something beautiful," you said with a sigh. "Something I can always remember as the most beautiful day of our lives. I don't want to do anything weird or strange."

Ekko then smiled, getting closer to you, with a light of understanding in his eyes. "It will be," he said with conviction, "but we'll do it our way. We're not going to follow the standards. I know you don't want that. I don't either."

For a moment, the weight of the situation began to lift, and everything felt much clearer. It was true. You had been so focused on making everything perfect, so eager for the wedding to match what had been your dream, that you'd forgotten something fundamental: you weren't like that.

Finally, you opened up, feeling vulnerable but relieved. "It's just... I just wanted to feel like a normal girl with a normal wedding. I don't know... like the ones I see in the Upper City, with everything so polished, so... perfect. I just want to feel like I belong. Like I'm not different."

Ekko looked at you silently for a moment, and his hands gently squeezed yours. "You're more than that," he said, his voice soft but sure. "You don't have to fit into anything or anyone. What we have, who we are... is unique. And that's what I want our wedding to reflect."

Your breath calmed, and finally, a genuine smile appeared on your face. "Then... let's do it. Our way. A unique day, without following rules."

Ekko hugged you, letting the warmth of his body calm you. "I promise," he whispered in your ear. "We'll make it unique. We'll make it better, but our way."

You both stayed there, surrounded by the warm silence that only the two of you shared, knowing that, even though the road to the wedding wouldn't be conventional, the important thing was that you'd do it together, and that would make it special.

Silco

Silco was standing by the window, looking out at the city from his office high up in the building, where the bustle of the Undercity felt distant but always present. Despite the imposing view, something in his gaze betrayed a void, an internal worry that he couldn’t shake off, even with the love he felt for you. The wedding was drawing closer, and while he knew he wanted a future with you, there were parts of his history, his past, that haunted him, and those shadows didn’t disappear easily.

You were on the other side of the office, going over some details for the ceremony. The environment you were in was bright and luxurious, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything you were about to experience didn’t quite belong to you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Silco had pulled you out of the brothel, a life you had left behind but which always silently haunted you. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to fully free yourself from that past.

“I don’t know if I deserve this…” you murmured, without thinking too much, looking at a list of flowers for the wedding.

Silco lifted his gaze, the cold serenity of his face mixing with something darker, something that seemed like an internal struggle he was trying not to let you see. He walked toward you, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the room.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice deep but calm, though this time there seemed to be a hint of concern beneath it.

You sighed, not wanting to talk about it, but the sadness overwhelmed you. “I can’t stop thinking about what people will say… They’ll look at me and think, ‘that’s the girl who worked in the brothel.’ They’ll never take me seriously. I don’t feel like I deserve something as… beautiful as this.”

A heavy silence fell between the two of you. Silco stared at you, his eyes as intense and calculating as always, but this time there was something different in them, something closer to concern. He approached you, stopping right in front of you but not touching you yet. He looked at your face, your eyes full of uncertainty, and his lips tightened as if his own demons were struggling to surface.

“You know what bothers me the most?” he said finally. “That you keep thinking you don’t deserve this. That you keep looking at the past as if it’s the only thing that defines you. Those people have no idea what you’re capable of. And you… you’re so much more than any shitty place you’ve come from.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you couldn’t stop from spilling. The emotion swelled within you like a wave. “But… what about my parents? I don’t know anything about them. They sold me like I was merchandise. I have no idea if they’re alive or dead, if they care about me. I never knew if they really loved me…” The anguish spilled out in words, and the tension in your chest increased, as if the gravity of the moment were crushing you.

Silco looked at you with a mix of rage and frustration, as if all that pain were a threat to the fortress he had built around himself. But it wasn’t anger that dominated his voice when he spoke.

“You don’t have to carry that guilt or that damn shame. You don’t have to see all that past as a burden that keeps you from walking toward the future. I pulled you out of that shit, and no one, no one, has the right to judge what we are or what we’ve been. Because what I’ve built for you, and what you’ve done, isn’t measured by what others think. The only thing that matters is what I see when I look into your eyes… and when I look at you, I see a woman who makes me want to break the damn world apart to give you what you deserve.”

Silco’s tone was direct, filled with something he couldn’t express with simple words, something deeper. With a firm hand but an unusual gentleness for him, he touched your face, lifting your chin so you would look at him.

“I don’t care what people think. And I don’t care what you’ve been or what you’ve done. The only thing that matters is what we are now. Us. I don’t want this wedding to be just a formality. I want it to reflect everything. And if you’re by my side, then that everything makes sense.”

Despite the confusion in your heart, part of you began to calm down, at least a little. Silco would never lie to you, not in his coldest gestures nor his warmest ones. His words weren’t just empty promises; they were the words of someone who had fought as much as you had, albeit in a different way, to find his place in the world.

“So you really think I deserve this?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

“You deserve everything.” He answered without hesitation. “And I won’t let any shadow from your past cloud what we’ve achieved. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all this time, it’s that you and I have the right to create whatever we want. What we’ve done or been before doesn’t matter now.”

You stepped toward him, resting your forehead against his chest, the weight of your insecurities beginning to dissolve by the firmness of his support. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this… but being with you makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I deserve something better too.”

“You always have.” He whispered, wrapping you in a firm embrace. “And if you ever forget that, I’ll be here to remind you.”

And in that embrace, the security Silco offered was more than enough to extinguish the doubts that still burned inside you. It didn’t matter where you came from, or what you had suffered. What mattered was the future you both would build together.

Mel

There was something in the air, a subtle tension that you couldn’t help but feel as you sat at the wedding planning table. Mel was completely absorbed in the details, as if everything had to be perfect and according to her vision. She had told you about the decoration, the guest list, and even the type of outfits she thought you both should wear, but something didn’t add up. Mel was making decisions without consulting you, assuming her preferences were the only ones that mattered.

“I’ve decided it will be in an indoor venue, with all sorts of baroque decorations, and I’ve hired the most prestigious orchestra in Piltover. We want to make our position known, right?” Mel was so confident, looking at the papers and giving a satisfied smile while she handled everything, not letting you intervene.

“What about what I want?” you asked, feeling a mix of frustration and discomfort building up in your chest. “Don’t you want this to be our wedding, not just yours?”

Mel looked up, surprised by your tone, but quickly recovered, giving a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. But… it’s not that complicated, don’t you think? I’ve always been the one to take the reins in this, I always get it right, everything perfectly.”

Your heart began to race. “Mel, you’re not letting me participate. It’s not just your wedding. This is about us, about what we want to share, not about what you think it should be.”

Mel furrowed her brow. “You know, right? Our wedding has to be something that stands out, something that tells the world who we are. I’m not trying to do it alone, it’s just… I’ve always known what’s best.”

“That’s exactly what bothers me!” your words came out forcefully. “You always think you know what’s best, but what about what I want? You’re always planning everything without asking me, always making decisions like everything has to revolve around you.”

The tension was palpable. Mel crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “And what do you know? Do you think I’m not trying to do what’s best for us?” Her voice was sharper now, as if each word was filled with contained frustration. “What about you? Don’t you realize nothing is ever enough for you? You always want something more, something different... Don’t you get tired of living within your own limits?”

What she said stung, like a sharp jab to your chest. “I’m not looking for a spectacle, Mel. What I want is a wedding that reflects what we share, not what the world expects to see.” You felt the emotion take over. “You’re suffocating me with your expectations, with your perfection, Mel. Sometimes, I feel like your need for everything to be perfect is taking away from what truly matters. Perfection isn’t what I want from you, what I want is for us to be together, real.”

Mel stood still, looking down, her face showing a discomfort she didn’t often show. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate. “It’s not that... It’s just that... I don’t know how to do things any other way.” Her voice was softer now, but there was still a layer of tension. “My life has always been about controlling things, doing them the way I want. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. And... I don’t want our wedding to be like any other. I don’t want people to look at us and think we’re ordinary.”

Your eyes softened, and you moved closer to her, taking her hands. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mel. I don’t care if it’s not the most luxurious wedding, or if everything is under control. What matters to me is you, and how we feel together. I don’t want you to drown in your own expectations.”

Mel sighed, the sound of her emotional weariness filling the air. “Sometimes, I feel like... I’m not enough.” Her gaze drifted, as if afraid her words might reveal something she didn’t want to show. “It’s easier to control everything than to accept that things might go wrong. Sometimes, perfection is the only thing I have.”

“You don’t need to be perfect for me, I’ve told you that,” you said softly, caressing her cheek gently. “You just need to be you. And that’s the best part of all of this, Mel. I want you, with all your imperfections, and that’s what I want our wedding to reflect.”

Mel took a deep breath, and a small smile appeared on her face. “I guess I owe you that. This wedding... might be simpler than I thought, but what matters is that it’s ours. Does that sound good?”

The tension immediately dissipated, and the atmosphere between you two softened. She moved closer, and finally, her hands intertwined with yours in a genuine embrace. “Thank you,” Mel said, her voice softer than before, vulnerable and real. “I promise we’ll do it the way you want. It will be our wedding, our way.”

“Thank you,” you replied, hugging her tighter. “All I need from you is for you to be you. And that’s the most perfect thing we can do.”

Both of you smiled, understanding that even though you had differences, the strength of what you shared was far more important than anything else. In the end, what mattered was your mutual commitment, not control, not perfection, but the love you had promised each other.

Sevika

The idea of planning the wedding seemed, in theory, fun and exciting. But in practice, it was an absolute mess. Both of you were trying to organize everything, but Sevika and you weren’t exactly the most organized. There were papers all over the table, piles of disorganized notes, and plans that didn’t match what you both wanted.

"This is a nightmare," Sevika muttered as she picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor. "How are we supposed to organize this if we can't even agree on a venue?"

You sat down in the chair, watching the disaster around you. "I know," you sighed, running your hands through your hair. "I wanted it to be simple, but it seems like I can't even do that right."

Sevika let out a bitter laugh, a sound you knew all too well. "Simple? Everything here is a disaster, and we're up to our necks in nonsense. I don't know if I'm the worst at this or if it’s just that this isn’t what I imagined."

Both of you were overwhelmed, and the tension was building. The lack of organization and control wasn’t just reflecting the physical chaos, but also the underlying anxieties of both of you.

"I told you, Sevika, this doesn’t make sense! We’re not getting anything right, and I feel like we’re already ruining everything." Your voice rose with frustration because you not only felt the wedding was out of control, but that this lack of success in the small details was affecting you more than you wanted to admit.

Sevika looked at you intently, frustration clear in her eyes. "And what did you expect? We're not people who do everything perfectly. We’re used to improvising, surviving, doing things our way." Her tone hardened, as if she was trying to justify what had happened. "I don’t know why you thought this would be different."

"Because it’s our wedding, Sevika! It’s not the same as always!" You were about to lose your temper. "I’m tired of you solving everything with ‘we’ll improvise’. This is important to me, and it matters a lot, do you understand?"

Sevika stepped closer, her taller frame and steady gaze making it clear this discussion had escalated too far. "I know, I know… but what I’m telling you is I don’t want it to be a traditional 'under control' wedding. Enough with the outside pressures." Her voice was softer but no less intense. "You know what scares me the most? That I don’t know if I’m capable of doing this right, that everything I plan won’t be enough for you. Because I know I’m not perfect. I’ve always been a warrior, not a princess who wants to sit at a fancy table."

A sharp pain pierced you as you heard her words. It wasn’t just about the wedding. There was something deeper in her tone. "It’s not about that, babe," you said, frustration transforming into a softness that took over you. "I just want it to be our moment. But it seems like we can’t even agree on the smallest thing."

Silence filled the room for a moment. Sevika, with her gaze fixed on the floor, seemed to be thinking. Finally, she stepped closer and, unexpectedly, placed her hand over yours.

"I’m sorry," she said, her voice softer, full of sincerity. "I didn’t want this to affect you so much. What’s going on is… I’m scared, you know? All of this is new to me. I’m not used to planning something so… so personal, and that scares me."

You were taken aback by her vulnerability. "I understand you’re scared, I’m scared too. But do you know what makes me lose that fear? Remembering that I’ll be with you, that we’re making the ultimate promise to share our lives together," you said, feeling the intensity of the connection between you both. "What matters is that, even if everything feels like a disaster, we’ll be together."

She smiled almost imperceptibly, with a mix of sadness and relief. "Do you really think I can’t do it right?"

"No, it’s not that," you replied, gently touching her face. "What I mean is, it doesn’t matter if everything is a disaster, as long as it’s our disaster."

A sigh escaped Sevika. "You’re right."

Both of you remained silent for a moment, understanding that perfection wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was what you shared, and that was more than enough for either of you.

Sevika, now calmer, hugged you softly. "We’ll do it right, doll. I promise."

You smiled, relieved. "Yeah, I know."

And, even though the wedding was still a mess, the only thing that mattered was that it was your mess. Your love was the only thing you needed to make everything make sense.

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 1

The waiting room buzzed with a nervous energy, a mix of anticipation and dread that hung thick in the air. Rebecca fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her fingers tracing the lace pattern absentmindedly. Beside her, Olaf was tapping his foot, his face a careful mask of indifference, though the slight tremor in his leg betrayed his unease. Anna, the calmest of the trio, sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight, and her expression serene.

At twenty years old, they had all reached the first critical milestone in their lives—the Maturity Test. Every person was required to take it at twenty, and then every five years after that. The test was designed to determine their place in society, not just in terms of their roles and responsibilities, but their very lifestyle. No one knew exactly how the test worked; it was a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations, the results shaping the course of every citizen’s life.

A door at the far end of the room opened with a quiet hiss, and a woman in a crisp white lab coat stepped out. “Rebecca Green,” she called, her voice soft but commanding.

Rebecca stood up, smoothing her dress one last time before following the woman through the door. Olaf and Anna exchanged a glance, but neither said anything. What was there to say? They had all grown up together, gone through school together, and now this test would decide their futures.

The door closed behind Rebecca, sealing her into a small, sterile room. A single chair sat in the center, facing a large screen. The woman gestured for her to sit.

“Relax, Rebecca,” the woman said, her tone soothing. “This will only take a few minutes.”

Rebecca nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She sat down, the chair surprisingly comfortable. The screen in front of her flickered to life, displaying a series of images, words, and scenarios. Rebecca tried to focus, answering the questions as they appeared, making decisions, reacting to scenarios, all while trying to keep calm.

After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, the screen went black. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Rebecca’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair, her knuckles white.

Finally, the screen lit up again, displaying a single word in bold letters.

TODDLER

Rebecca stared at the word, her mind reeling. Toddler? What did that mean? But before she could process it, the door behind her opened again, and the woman in the lab coat re-entered, this time accompanied by a man in a similar uniform. He held a small bundle in his hands.

“Rebecca, your classification is toddler,” the woman said, her voice still calm. “This means that, from now on, your lifestyle will be adjusted to fit your new status. This includes, but is not limited to, the wearing of diapers, a supervised environment, and the cessation of adult responsibilities.”

The man stepped forward, handing her the bundle. It was soft, wrapped in pastel-colored fabric. Rebecca’s hands trembled as she took it, unfolding it to reveal a thick, padded diaper. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your new caretaker will meet you shortly to explain everything,” the woman continued. “Please follow the attendant, and they will guide you to your new quarters.”

Rebecca could barely move, her mind swirling with confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of resignation. She was led out of the room, clutching the diaper to her chest like a lifeline.

As she passed by the waiting room, she caught Olaf’s eye. He gave her a tight, sympathetic smile, but there was nothing he could say. Anna, still composed, offered a small nod, acknowledging Rebecca’s fate.

The door closed behind her, leaving Olaf and Anna in silence once more.

“Olaf Lindstrom,” the same woman called, and Olaf rose to his feet. He walked through the door, his heart pounding in his ears.

The process was much the same. The questions, the scenarios, the flashing images on the screen. But Olaf’s mind kept wandering back to Rebecca, to the diaper in her hands, to the word TODDLER that had flashed on the screen. Was that really her future now? What would his be?

When the screen finally settled on his classification, Olaf felt his heart skip a beat.

PRESCHOOLER

The woman re-entered the room, but this time she held something different—a package of pull-ups, adorned with cartoon characters and bright colors.

“Olaf, your classification is preschooler,” she said. “This means that while you have some independence, you will still require supervision and assistance with certain tasks. You will wear these pull-ups, and your activities will be limited to those appropriate for your status.”

Olaf stared at the pull-ups, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over him. He wasn’t a toddler like Rebecca, but he wasn’t classified as an adult either. He was stuck in some in-between stage, not quite a baby, but not fully independent.

He was led out of the room, clutching the pull-ups. When he passed the waiting area, Anna’s eyes met his, her expression unreadable. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, but Olaf could see the concern behind it. They had all known that their futures would be decided today, but none of them had expected it to be so drastic.

Finally, it was Anna’s turn. She walked into the room with her head held high, her steps confident. The test followed the same pattern—questions, images, scenarios—but Anna’s mind was calm, focused. She had always been the responsible one, the one who took care of her friends, who excelled in school, who made the right decisions.

When the screen displayed her classification, Anna felt a sense of vindication.

ADULT

The woman in the lab coat entered, holding nothing this time. She simply smiled at Anna, a warm, approving smile.

“Anna, your classification is adult,” she said. “You will continue to live as you have, with full responsibilities and privileges. You have passed your Maturity Test.”

Anna nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. But as she left the room, her thoughts drifted back to Rebecca and Olaf, to the diaper and the pull-ups, to the new lives they were about to lead.

As Anna walked out of the room, she glanced back at the door where Rebecca and Olaf had exited. Her heart ached for her friends, especially for Rebecca, who had been reduced to a toddler by the system. But she knew there was nothing she could do. The classifications were final, and everyone had to live by them.

As she continued down the street, Anna silently vowed to check in on Rebecca and Olaf, to be there for them despite the gulf that had just opened between their lives. Because while the system had classified them differently, they were still her friends, and she wouldn’t let that change.

Anna walked up to the familiar house, the one she had visited so many times before, yet it felt different now. It had been two years since the Maturity Test, and so much had changed. She had just finished her BSc, an accomplishment she was proud of, but now that she was back home, she felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation about reconnecting with her old friends, especially Olaf.

As she approached the front door, Anna could hear muffled laughter from inside. She knocked gently, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal a beaming Olaf. He looked almost the same as she remembered, but there was something different about his demeanor—something softer, less assured.

"Anna!" Olaf exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he pulled her into a warm hug. "It’s so good to see you!"

"You too, Olaf!" Anna replied, hugging him back tightly. "It’s been way too long."

Olaf stepped aside to let her in, and as Anna entered the house, she noticed the subtle changes. The living room had a more childlike vibe now, with toys neatly arranged in one corner and colorful educational posters on the walls. A large stuffed animal sat on the couch, and there was a faint scent of baby powder in the air.

Olaf looked a little different too. His clothes were casual, a bit more childlike than she remembered—loose overalls and a bright, playful t-shirt. And there was a visible outline beneath his overalls that hinted at something... padded.

Lilly appeared from the kitchen, wearing a soft smile and holding a tray of snacks. She looked every bit the doting caregiver, dressed in comfortable clothes that belied her new role in Olaf’s life.

"Anna, it’s so great to see you again," Lilly said warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "I’ve heard so much about how well you’ve been doing."

"Thanks, Lilly," Anna replied, returning the smile. "It’s good to be back home, even if just for a bit."

Olaf began chatting animatedly about his life, clearly eager to share.

“So, I’m in preschool now,” Olaf said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and something else—a hint of embarrassment, maybe? “It’s... well, it’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made some really good friends there.”

Anna nodded, listening intently. “That’s great, Olaf. What kind of stuff do you do in preschool?”

“Oh, you know, we have story time, arts and crafts, and lots of outdoor play,” Olaf said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about the games they played. “It’s really fun, actually. And we have nap time after lunch, which is... kind of nice.”

Lilly chuckled softly, ruffling Olaf’s hair. “He’s the star of the class, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Olaf blushed deeper, looking down at his juice box. “I guess...”

Anna smiled, sensing the comfort yet slight awkwardness Olaf felt in this dynamic. “Sounds like you’re doing great, Olaf. It’s good to see you so happy.”

But then Lilly’s expression turned slightly mischievous. “Olaf, why don’t you tell Anna about that big milestone you hit last year?”

"And, uh," Olaf continued, his tone shifting slightly as he glanced at Lilly, "I also... well, I passed 'Unpotty Training I' last year."

Anna blinked, taking in the information. She had heard of Unpotty Training classes but hadn’t really considered what that meant for someone like Olaf. The idea of Olaf, her old friend who used to be so independent, having accidents like a toddler was hard to wrap her mind around.

Lilly, however, looked absolutely delighted. "He did so well in that class," she said proudly, as if discussing an academic achievement. "He’s such a good boy. He was one of the first in his class to have real accidents."

Olaf squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I-I guess..."

Anna glanced at Lilly, noticing the way she gently but firmly guided Olaf’s behavior. There was a subtle push and pull in their dynamic—Olaf trying to hold on to his independence and maturity, while Lilly seemed eager to encourage his regression. It was an intriguing contrast.

“That’s... really interesting,” Anna said, trying to be supportive while still processing the situation.

Lilly smiled, sensing Anna’s curiosity. “Olaf’s doing great in his preschool class, and he’s learning to embrace this new phase of his life. But, of course, I’m here to help him with whatever he needs.”

Olaf looked at Anna, his expression somewhere between pride and a plea for understanding. “It’s been... different, but Lilly’s been really supportive. She... she helps me a lot.”

Anna watched the interaction, noting how Lilly’s influence seemed to be gently guiding Olaf further away from the maturity he was trying to cling to. It was clear that Lilly enjoyed her role as a caregiver—no, as Mommy.

"So, what happens after these five years?" Anna asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Lilly’s eyes gleamed slightly as she looked at Olaf. "Well, after five years, we all take the Maturity Test again. Depending on how things go, Olaf might stay a preschooler, or... maybe he’ll move on to the next smaller stage."

Olaf’s blush deepened as he looked down at his hands. "I don’t want to move backward, Anna. I want to stay a preschooler... or maybe even move up, if I can."

Lilly chuckled softly, clearly amused by his determination. "We’ll see, sweetie. There’s no rush. For now, let’s just focus on enjoying where you are."

Olaf looked up at her, his expression a mix of resignation and affection. "Yeah... I guess you’re right."

Anna walked through the bright, cheerfully decorated halls of the regression school nursery, a place she never imagined visiting until now. She hadn’t seen Rebecca since before her classification, and she wasn't sure what to expect. The walls were lined with colorful murals, depicting scenes of playful animals and idyllic nature, clearly designed to be soothing and engaging for the residents. The soft hum of lullabies played in the background, adding to the nursery’s serene atmosphere.

Finally, she reached the room number she had been given and knocked gently on the door. A moment later, it swung open, and Anna was greeted by a young woman with a warm smile, dressed in a uniform that marked her as one of the caregivers.

“Hello, you must be Anna,” the caregiver said kindly. “Rebecca’s been talking about your visit all week. She’s just inside, playing with her toys.”

Anna smiled back, feeling a mix of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a twinge of sadness as she stepped into the room. It was spacious, filled with soft, pastel-colored furniture, and various toys scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all sat Rebecca, her back to the door, completely absorbed in stacking brightly colored blocks into a wobbly tower.

Rebecca was dressed in a simple shirt with a cartoon character printed on the front, and Anna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the diaper peeking out from beneath it. The thick padding crinkled softly as Rebecca shifted.

“Becky,” Anna called softly, using the childhood nickname that felt oddly appropriate now.

Rebecca turned around, her face lighting up with a broad, innocent smile that made her look younger than her twenty-two years. “Anna!” she squealed, dropping the blocks and crawling over to her friend. When she reached Anna, she wrapped her arms around her legs in an enthusiastic hug, her diaper crinkling loudly with the movement.

“Hi, Becky,” Anna said, crouching down to return the hug. She was struck by how different Rebecca seemed. The way she moved, the way she looked up at Anna with wide, expectant eyes—it was as if Rebecca had truly turned into the toddler she had been classified as.

“Wanna play blocks with me?” Rebecca asked, her voice slightly lisped, whether naturally or from the regression, Anna wasn’t sure. “I’m makin’ a big tower!”

Anna smiled gently. “Sure, I’d love to.” She sat down on the plush rug next to Rebecca, who immediately returned to her task of stacking blocks, her small tongue poking out in concentration.

As they played, Anna observed her friend closely. Rebecca’s mannerisms were so childlike—the way she clapped her hands in delight when the tower didn’t fall over, the way she babbled excitedly about the different colors and shapes of the blocks. It was clear that Rebecca had regressed quite a bit since her classification.

“So, Becky,” Anna started, picking up a block and turning it over in her hands, “how have you been? Do you like it here?”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing with the movement. “Yeah! It’s so fun! I get to play all day, an’ the caregivers are really nice. They give me cookies when I’m good!”

Anna smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. “That sounds nice. And you’re happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Rebecca chirped, not a care in the world as she continued stacking her blocks. “I don’t hafta worry ‘bout big girl stuff anymore.”

Anna nodded, watching Rebecca with a mix of concern and curiosity. The girl in front of her was so different from the Rebecca she once knew—carefree, unburdened, but also entirely dependent on the nursery and its routines. It was a stark contrast to Anna’s own life, where responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders every day.

As they continued to play, Anna couldn’t help but notice something strange—Rebecca’s diaper, which had been dry when she arrived, was still dry. She had been there for nearly three hours, and Rebecca hadn’t shown any signs of needing a change. It struck Anna as odd, considering everything she’d heard about regression schools and their “residents.”

But as the hours passed, Anna started to see small signs. Rebecca would squirm a little more, shift her weight from side to side, and occasionally pause in the middle of talking or playing, as if she was distracted by something. Anna noticed but didn’t say anything, not wanting to embarrass her friend.

Finally, after about three hours, Rebecca paused mid-sentence, her eyes going wide for a moment. She looked down at her diaper, then back up at Anna, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “Uh-oh...” she mumbled softly, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and a hint of relief.

Anna watched as the colorful designs on Rebecca’s diaper began to fade, the telltale sign of it absorbing wetness. There was a faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and then Rebecca sighed softly, a look of contentment spreading across her face.

“I did a pee-pee,” Rebecca said quietly, almost to herself, as she absentmindedly patted the front of her now-soggy diaper. There was no shame in her voice, just a simple acknowledgment of what had happened.

Anna reached out, gently rubbing Rebecca’s back. “It’s okay, Becky. Do you want me to get someone to change you?”

Rebecca shook her head, leaning into Anna’s touch. “No, it’s okay. I’m comfy.”

Anna continued to rub her back, noticing how Rebecca seemed completely at ease with her situation. "You really seem to enjoy it here," Anna said softly.

Rebecca’s smile faltered for a moment as she looked down at her soggy diaper, then back up at Anna. "Well... I heard that if I'm a good little girl and don't put up a fuss, they might let me grow back up before the next... matur... matuwity... test," she said, struggling with the word.

Anna’s eyes widened slightly. “Maturity test?”

Rebecca nodded, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Uh-huh! If I’m a good girl and don’t make a fuss, maybe when it’s time for the test again, I can grow back up!”

Anna’s heart ached a little as she listened. It was clear that Rebecca had latched onto the idea, hoping that by being the perfect little toddler, she might get a chance to return to her previous life. Anna wasn’t sure if that was really how it worked, but she didn’t want to burst Rebecca’s bubble.

“That’s a good plan, Becky,” Anna said softly, pulling her friend into a gentle hug. “You’re doing great.”

Rebecca beamed up at her, the simple praise enough to make her day.

[testing-services]

The Importance of Textile Fabric Testing for Compliance with Environmental Regulations

In the modern textile industry, there is a growing emphasis on ensuring that products not only meet the highest quality standards but also comply with environmental regulations. With increasing consumer awareness and stringent government policies, manufacturers are now required to meet environmental guidelines to ensure that their products are safe for consumers and the environment. Textile fabric testing plays a critical role in this process by assessing various factors related to environmental sustainability.

In this blog, we will explore the significance of textile fabric testing for compliance with environmental regulations, why it matters for manufacturers, and how it can help businesses maintain ethical standards while avoiding potential legal and financial penalties.

1. Understanding Textile Fabric Testing

Textile fabric testing involves a series of evaluations to ensure that fabrics meet specific safety and quality standards. These tests are essential for assessing physical properties such as strength, durability, and elasticity, as well as chemical properties like the presence of harmful substances. Fabric testing also helps determine environmental impacts, including sustainability, biodegradability, and eco-friendly certifications.

For businesses exporting to global markets, textile fabric testing has become more important than ever before. Governments around the world are imposing stricter regulations regarding environmental sustainability, and manufacturers must comply with these standards to ensure market access and consumer safety.

2. Global Push for Environmental Compliance

The global textile industry is facing increased scrutiny when it comes to environmental sustainability. With rising concerns over the impact of textile manufacturing on the environment—such as pollution from dyes, chemicals, and water consumption—countries are enforcing stricter regulations to minimize environmental damage. As a result, textile manufacturers are required to meet specific environmental compliance standards.

One key area where textile manufacturers are being held accountable is the use of harmful chemicals in fabrics. Regulatory bodies such as the European Union’s REACH (Registration, Evaluation, Authorization, and Restriction of Chemicals) regulation and the OEKO-TEX® Standard 100 certification are pushing manufacturers to eliminate or limit the use of toxic chemicals in fabrics. These standards ensure that textiles do not contain harmful substances that can pollute the environment or harm consumers’ health.

In addition to chemical safety, many countries are focusing on water usage, carbon emissions, and waste management within the textile production process. Manufacturers must adhere to these regulations to reduce their environmental footprint and remain compliant with global standards.

3. Textile Fabric Testing for Chemical Safety

One of the most crucial aspects of textile fabric testing is evaluating the presence of harmful chemicals. These chemicals can include formaldehyde, azo dyes, heavy metals, and flame retardants, which are often used in textile manufacturing to improve fabric properties. However, these substances can be toxic to both humans and the environment.

Textile testing helps identify and quantify these harmful chemicals, ensuring that fabrics meet safety and environmental standards. Regulations such as REACH in Europe and GOTS (Global Organic Textile Standard) for organic textiles have strict limits on the allowable concentration of these chemicals in finished fabrics. By conducting comprehensive chemical testing, manufacturers can guarantee that their textiles are free from substances that could endanger human health or contribute to environmental pollution.

Testing for chemical residues in textiles also ensures that the fabrics meet the OEKO-TEX® Standard 100, which certifies that textiles are free from harmful levels of substances that are known to cause allergies, skin irritation, or other health issues. This certification not only demonstrates compliance with environmental regulations but also provides manufacturers with a competitive edge in the market.

4. Sustainability and Eco-Friendly Certification

Environmental regulations are increasingly focused on the sustainability of textile products. This includes examining the entire life cycle of textiles—from the raw materials used in production to the waste generated during manufacturing and the end-of-life disposal of products.

Textile fabric testing plays a vital role in ensuring that textiles are sustainable and eco-friendly. Sustainability tests evaluate the environmental impact of materials, including the use of renewable resources, the reduction of water and energy consumption, and the management of textile waste. For instance, biodegradability tests help manufacturers assess whether the fabric can break down naturally in the environment without leaving harmful residues.

Eco-certifications like GOTS and OEKO-TEX® Standard 100 not only focus on chemical safety but also on the sustainability of the textile production process. To achieve these certifications, manufacturers must pass a series of tests to ensure that their products are made using environmentally friendly processes, such as low-impact dyeing techniques, water-efficient manufacturing, and the use of recycled materials.

By obtaining these certifications, manufacturers can demonstrate their commitment to sustainability and comply with international regulations. In an increasingly eco-conscious market, eco-friendly certifications also serve as a powerful marketing tool, helping businesses appeal to environmentally aware consumers.

5. Water and Energy Usage Compliance

Water and energy usage are significant concerns in textile manufacturing. The textile industry is one of the largest consumers of water globally, and the use of untreated or poorly managed water in the dyeing and finishing processes can lead to pollution and environmental degradation. Additionally, high energy consumption in textile production contributes to increased carbon emissions.

Textile fabric testing also addresses the environmental impact of water and energy usage. Water quality testing assesses the impact of water used in the manufacturing process, ensuring that it meets environmental standards before being discharged back into the environment. By testing the levels of chemicals and pollutants in wastewater, manufacturers can identify areas where they can reduce water contamination.

Furthermore, energy efficiency tests help manufacturers optimize their production processes to minimize energy consumption. Testing for energy usage can uncover inefficiencies and opportunities for adopting cleaner energy sources, reducing the overall environmental impact of textile production.

6. Minimizing Textile Waste

Waste generation is another major concern for the textile industry. Textile production often generates significant amounts of waste, including fabric scraps, dye runoff, and chemicals. Improper disposal of these materials can lead to pollution and environmental harm.

Textile fabric testing helps identify the amount and types of waste produced during manufacturing, allowing companies to develop strategies for minimizing waste. Testing helps evaluate the recyclability of fabrics and ensure that production processes align with global waste management standards. For example, recycled fiber content tests help assess the proportion of recycled materials used in fabrics, encouraging manufacturers to use sustainable resources.

Manufacturers can also perform end-of-life testing to determine whether their textiles can be recycled or reused, helping to close the loop in the textile supply chain. By reducing waste and promoting recycling, companies can significantly reduce their environmental impact and comply with waste management regulations.

7. Avoiding Legal Penalties and Product Recalls

Non-compliance with environmental regulations can lead to significant legal and financial consequences for manufacturers. Fines, penalties, and product recalls are just a few of the risks that companies face when their products fail to meet environmental standards.

By investing in textile fabric testing, manufacturers can proactively identify and address any issues that may lead to non-compliance. Comprehensive testing ensures that products adhere to regulatory requirements and environmental standards, reducing the likelihood of legal penalties, product recalls, and damage to brand reputation.

Additionally, meeting environmental regulations helps manufacturers avoid costly disruptions to production and shipping, as non-compliant products are often prohibited from entering certain markets.

8. Conclusion

Textile fabric testing plays an integral role in helping manufacturers meet environmental regulations and maintain sustainable production practices. By testing fabrics for chemical safety, sustainability, water and energy usage, and waste management, companies can ensure that their products are safe for consumers and the environment. Compliance with global environmental standards not only helps businesses avoid legal penalties but also enhances their reputation in an eco-conscious market.

As the demand for eco-friendly and sustainable products grows, investing in textile fabric testing is essential for manufacturers looking to stay competitive and compliant with international regulations. In doing so, manufacturers can create high-quality, environmentally responsible products that resonate with consumers and contribute to a more sustainable future for the textile industry.

[best-testing-lab-uae]

The Importance of Fabric Testing in Abu Dhabi’s Growing Fashion Industry

Abu Dhabi’s fashion industry is experiencing remarkable growth, driven by its burgeoning market and increasing global influence. As the city cements its status as a fashion hub, ensuring the quality and compliance of textiles has become more critical than ever. Fabric testing labs play a crucial role in this landscape, providing essential services that support manufacturers in delivering high-quality, safe, and compliant products. This blog explores the importance of fabric testing in Abu Dhabi’s expanding fashion industry and highlights how these labs contribute to the sector's success.

1. Ensuring Product Quality

In a competitive fashion market, the quality of textiles is paramount. Fabric testing lab in Abu Dhabi help manufacturers maintain high standards by conducting comprehensive tests that assess various properties of textiles.

Key Quality Tests:

Mechanical Properties: Testing for tensile strength, abrasion resistance, and tear resistance ensures that fabrics can withstand regular use and maintain their integrity.

Colorfastness: Evaluating how well textiles retain their color when exposed to washing, light, or friction is crucial for maintaining the aesthetic appeal of fashion products.

Performance Characteristics: Assessing attributes like moisture-wicking, UV protection, and thermal insulation helps ensure that fabrics meet the functional needs of consumers.

By providing detailed analysis and verification, fabric testing labs ensure that textiles meet the desired quality standards, which is essential for building consumer trust and brand reputation.

2. Compliance with Regulatory Standards

Abu Dhabi’s fashion industry operates under strict regulatory frameworks that govern textile safety, environmental impact, and labeling requirements. Fabric testing labs play a vital role in helping manufacturers comply with these regulations.

Regulatory Compliance:

Chemical Safety: Testing for harmful substances such as formaldehyde, azo dyes, and heavy metals is crucial for ensuring that textiles are safe for consumers. Compliance with local and international safety standards helps prevent health risks and legal issues.

Labeling Requirements: Accurate labeling of textiles, including fiber content and care instructions, is mandatory. Testing labs verify that labels meet regulatory requirements, helping manufacturers avoid penalties and ensure transparency.

Environmental Standards: With increasing focus on sustainability, testing labs assess the environmental impact of textiles, including the use of eco-friendly materials and manufacturing processes.

By ensuring that textiles adhere to regulatory standards, fabric testing labs help manufacturers navigate the complex regulatory landscape and achieve market acceptance.

3. Supporting Innovation and Sustainability

As the fashion industry evolves, there is a growing emphasis on innovation and sustainability. Fabric testing labs in Abu Dhabi support these trends by providing testing services that cater to new and sustainable textile technologies.

Innovation in Textiles:

Performance Fabrics: Testing labs evaluate advanced materials designed for specific functions, such as moisture-wicking sportswear or thermal insulation for outdoor apparel. These tests ensure that innovative fabrics meet performance expectations and provide the desired benefits.

Smart Textiles: With the rise of smart textiles that incorporate technology, testing labs assess functionalities like conductivity and data transmission. This ensures that these cutting-edge fabrics operate effectively and meet industry standards.

Sustainability Testing:

Eco-Friendly Materials: Testing labs verify the use of sustainable materials, such as organic cotton or recycled fibers, and assess their impact on the environment.

Certifications: Labs provide certifications for eco-friendly practices, such as OEKO-TEX® or Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS), helping manufacturers demonstrate their commitment to sustainability.

By supporting innovation and sustainability, fabric testing labs enable manufacturers to stay competitive and meet evolving consumer demands.

4. Facilitating Market Entry and Global Trade

For manufacturers aiming to enter international markets, fabric testing labs in Abu Dhabi provide essential support in achieving global trade compliance and market acceptance.

Global Certifications:

International Standards: Testing labs offer certifications recognized worldwide, such as ISO or ASTM, which are crucial for exporting textiles to global markets. These certifications demonstrate adherence to international quality and safety standards.

Export Documentation: Labs provide detailed reports and documentation required for regulatory approvals and market entry. Accurate documentation helps streamline the export process and facilitates smooth entry into international markets.

By providing the necessary certifications and documentation, fabric testing labs help manufacturers expand their reach and successfully compete in the global fashion industry.

5. Enhancing Brand Reputation and Consumer Trust

In the fashion industry, brand reputation and consumer trust are critical factors for success. Fabric testing labs contribute to building and maintaining a positive brand image by ensuring the quality, safety, and compliance of textiles.

Consumer Assurance:

Quality Assurance: Testing labs provide validation of fabric quality, which reassures consumers that the products they purchase are durable and reliable.

Safety Assurance: By verifying that textiles are free from harmful chemicals, testing labs help build consumer trust and ensure the safety of fashion products.

Transparency: Accurate testing and certification provide transparency regarding the composition and quality of textiles, enhancing brand credibility and fostering consumer loyalty.

By supporting quality assurance, safety, and transparency, fabric testing labs play a key role in enhancing brand reputation and consumer trust.

6. Streamlining Production Processes

Efficient and effective production processes are crucial for the success of textile manufacturers. Fabric testing labs assist in optimizing production by providing insights and recommendations based on testing results.

Process Improvement:

Material Selection: Testing labs help manufacturers select the best materials for their products by providing detailed information on fabric properties and performance.

Quality Control: Regular testing throughout the production process helps identify and address quality issues early, reducing the risk of defects and ensuring consistent product quality.

By offering valuable insights and recommendations, fabric testing labs contribute to more efficient and effective production processes.

Conclusion

Fabric testing is a fundamental component of Abu Dhabi’s growing fashion industry, supporting manufacturers in ensuring quality, regulatory compliance, innovation, and market success. The top fabric testing labs in the city provide essential services that help navigate the complexities of textile testing, from meeting local and international standards to facilitating global trade and enhancing brand reputation.

As Abu Dhabi continues to thrive as a fashion hub, fabric testing labs will remain crucial partners for manufacturers aiming to deliver high-quality, safe, and compliant textiles. By leveraging the expertise and services of these labs, manufacturers can stay competitive, meet consumer expectations, and achieve long-term success in the dynamic fashion industry.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

hey! could you write something where tony accidentally finds out the reader, his daughter, and peter are dating? they’re both scared for his reaction but then he’s actually super cool about it :)

I LOVE STARK!READER !!

i got saucy w this one :,) my b

!!! 18+ MDNI !!!

content warnings — steamy peter make outs, light swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Nothing could beat lazy Sundays at the compound. The whole team was either MIA, on a mission, or training, so every room fell still with serenity. It was the perfect time for you to stick your nose in a book, and lounge around the empty estate. Your father was off somewhere across the complex working on some gadget, which left you free to roam around wherever you wanted.

Your hair gently tickled your bare shoulders as you tied it up, laying your book face–open on the kitchen island so that you could keep reading and grab a snack. The air conditioning nipped at the skin exposed from your minimal clothing; your black–cropped tank top and favorite pair of shorts didn’t protect you from the artificial frost in the air, but it certainly helped with the heat when you stepped outside.

Just before your hands fell back to your book, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Their shape and placement was something so familiar, the touch brought you more comfort than startle. Cedarwood and bergamot were quick to fill your nose whilst your boyfriend’s head craned into the base of your neck. His fingers locked to the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you back into him so that he could feel more of you.

“I’ve been looking for you..” His voice was throaty. Needy. The pads of his thumbs traced tiny circles into either of your hips, gently pressing further into your skin when your hand stretched up to comb through his fluffy brown curls. His affection and body heat were a welcomed company in the cold of the kitchen.

A smile found your face, even though Peter couldn’t see it from where he was. “I missed you too, baby.” Humming, your fingers scratched his scalp. “D’you know who’s here right now?” Your voice grew hushed, heart racing with the small adrenaline rush infiltrated your system.

“Your dad’s in his lab, Steve and Natasha are in the gym, and Vision’s with Wanda in the meeting room, but otherwise.. Everyone else’s out..” Peter’s voice dropped an octave as he spoke just above a whisper, his lips finding your collarbone. “Sam, Bucky, Thor..” In between each name, he placed another kiss on your neck, only inching higher. The more skin he nipped at, the more your fingers curled around his hair, curving your neck so that he had more access to you. “Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper…” His whispers sent shivers down your spine, especially as his left hand slid under the fabric of your shirt.

As Peter trailed kissed up to your jaw, a shuttered moan caught between your lips. You fought the urge to roll your hips back into his, knowing that you couldn’t finish what you were starting. If anybody found you two, your secret relationship would be out, and your dad would give you hell for it. “Peter.. We can’t…” You spoke breathlessly, tugging at his hair; it was an attempt to pull him from your body, but you didn’t try too hard.

His lips hovered over his favorite soft spot in the crevasse of your jawline, brushing his teeth along the surface of it just to rile you. It certainly didn’t help that he aimed his breathy chuckle right at it, but god did it feel good. “Why not?”

You huffed impatiently, eyes half lidded whilst your entire body anticipated the gentle brushing of his lips against your neck. His cooling fingers teased at the bottom of your left breast, testing waters you two hadn’t touched before. Sure, you’d let Peter Parker touch you like this plenty of times before, but never in the open like this. Never in the open where your secret could be outed.

“Cause I–” You felt the tug of Peter’s smirk against your skin at how worked up you were already getting. “I’m reading…” You knew that Peter was well aware of how secretive you needed to be. ‘Reading’ was merely just to give him a hard time.

He let out a quiet sigh, pressing a lingered kiss to your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed at your rib cage beneath your shirt, but otherwise, he gave up his attempt. “You’re sure I can’t even get one kiss?” He asked, pouty even in his tone of voice.

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glanced at his lips just to tease him, “Over my dead body, Parker.” Your voice still sang out low, wanting nothing more than to taste him right then and there.

Peter’s face inched closer to yours, snickering quietly at your stubborn response. “Not if your dad kills me first..” He mused, voice still just as groveled as before. His lips nearly brushed against yours, but the sound of the floorboards outside of the kitchen made you both add three feet between you.

“Why would I kill you?” Your dad’s voice hummed nonchalant, as if he wasn’t interrupting such an intimate moment. He walked right through the thickening tension like it wasn’t the weight that it was. Tony’s focus seemed to be glued to his holographic wrist watch, completely oblivious to Peter’s hand slyly slipping out from under your black camisole.

You and Peter glanced at each other, astonished that he seemed so unfazed and unaware. Perhaps, your father didn’t hear as much of the conversation as you assumed he did. Maybe he truly was clueless to the blush coating your cheeks, and the timid bulge poking at the fly of Peter’s jeans.

“Uhh..” Peter lost every thought that occupied his brian. “Because I ate the last Pop Tart. I–I just figured you’d be upset.” Even he didn’t sound convinced about the excuse.

Finally, Tony looked up from his watch, eyeing you first, then Peter. This was the closest you two were to getting caught, and even though the AC was cranked fairly high, it felt like the air suddenly ran much cooler. Your heart was in your throat, easing a little when your father walked over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Tony leaned back on the kitchen island beside you, crossing his arms over his Nirvana band–tee. “Lucky for you, kid, I’ve got a whole secret stash in my lab.” He spoke with his typical Tony tone, “I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

Little did you or Peter know that your father actually heard most of your conversation. How much of it? He’d never tell you. Tony Stark knew that you and Peter had the hots for each other for a long time. He was just waiting for both of you to come clean about the relationship, or for the perfect time for him to address it. He’d known for a while, but the longer it took, the more entertaining it was to act like he was oblivious to it. Now, how he found out about the relationship, he’d never tell that to you either.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogers?” Tony asked the blonde from across the pool table, watching as the captain missed the shot with no reaction.

Steve stood upright, stepping back so that Tony had room to make his turn. “No. No, Tony.” He started, “All I’m saying is that if Peter were chivalrous, he would ask you for your permission first. That’s all.”

The topic of the evening was why you and Peter both flaked out of game night. Ever since Sam joked that you could’ve been bailing to go out together, every conversation Tony had was directed on how likely the possibility truly was.

His eyes squinted at Steve, readjusting his cue and stance in one swift movement. He knew Steve was traditional, but sometimes, Tony forgot just how traditional he really was. “They don’t need my permission. They’re teenagers.” Tony creased his hips, focusing on the pool table for a second. “Besides,” with a faint clank, Tony knocked two balls in with one hit, “Maybe she asked him out. It’s the twenty–first century.”

Steve sighed with a slight twinge of annoyance, both at Tony’s coyness and his success in their game. He leaned on his cue like a cane, watching the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walk around the table again. “Alright, fine.” Steve huffed. “But if they are out canoodling tonight, what are you going to do about it?”

A focused glare glistened in Tony’s eyes as he bent over to take the shot. He pulled the cue back a few times, pondering on both his turn and the question. If he made this shot correctly, he could win the whole game; if you and Peter were really out on a date, what would he do?

Tony shoved the wooden rod in his hand, acing the shot just like he calculated. He subtly smirked to himself, looking back at Steve to answer his question. “I’ll find a way to give them hell for it.”

And that, he was. Ever since he caught you and Peter getting frisky on the security system later that night. That conversation happened months ago, and Tony still managed to make both of you incredibly jittery. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was such a big deal to tell him, or why you’d kept it a secret for so long, but he knew sooner than later you’d find a way to tell him.

Little did he know, Peter Parker was finding his way onto your bedroom in the thick of night after patrols.

You unlocked the door to your balcony, welcoming him in with the kiss you meant to give him hours earlier. Hungrily, your lips clasped with his, getting drunk on his taste, and lacing your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you..” You spoke between kisses.

“Missed you too, baby..” Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally able to relax in your presence.

Both of you took steps towards your bed, slow and steady to avoid the lack of contact. Peter’s mask was lost somewhere on your bedroom floor, and you wasted no time to press the button on his chest and strip him from the suit he’d been wearing.

Peter got to your bed first, sitting back on it and quickly helping you climb on top of him. His hands grasped every inch of you that they could — grazing your neck, squeezing at your hips, grabbing your ass, and now inching up your inner thigh as you straddled his lap. His hips arched up to meet yours, pressing up against you in a delicious way.

Tongues greeting each other, you both moaned into each other’s mouth. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and the foreplay only reminded you of how little patience you had for it. You didn’t just want Peter right now, you needed him. Inside you. The ache in your lower stomach felt throbbing, and you were confident that your arousal was already coating the fingers Peter had at your upper thigh.

Just as you both parted the kiss to catch your breath, your bedroom door abruptly opened, light invading the room. Your blood ran cold as your head snapped toward the door in time with Peter’s; you both met the casual stare of your father. Tony Stark stood in the doorframe, unfazed, in pajamas, toothbrush in his mouth.

The room fell quiet, apart from the sounds of the bristles cleaning Tony’s pearly whites, and the faint heavy breaths that you and Peter tried to catch.

Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, Tony was the first to break the awkward, deafening, silence. “Hey, Kid.” Tony’s head nodded upwards, as though he were greeting Peter in public. Not like he was speaking nonchalantly to Peter, flushed, in boxers, sat beneath his daughter’s thighs. “Next time, can you use the front door so that I don’t have to disarm the security system?” Even if little he knew, little was still more than nothing.

Peter stared blankly at him, sure as hell that this had to be some nightmare he just hadn’t woken up from yet. He glanced at you, then swallowed the frog stuck in his throat. “Uh– uh, yep! Yeah, I–uh, I can do that!” He wasn’t sure why his voice always raised two octaves when he was nervous, but it definitely made this moment that much more amusing for Tony.

With a small smile, your dad grabbed the doorknob with his freehand. “Thanks.” He then put the toothbrush back in his mouth, slowly shutting the door. “Have fun! Use protection.” His words were muffled and spat due to having his mouth full, but he shut the door after that.

As awkward as it must’ve been for you and Peter, Tony found that moment to be as satisfying as he pictured it to be. Boy, he would give Peter the talking to of a lifetime in the morning, but it thrilled him to know that you’d found someone who made you so happy.

He didn’t see need to kill Peter either, after all.

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[maeon-labs]

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[blackwoodwinter]

Kinktober/ Monstertober Day 2 Werewolf

Tw: vaginal fingering, humping, oral sex femal receiving, vaginal sex, knotting, multiple orgasm

Your a researcher studying monsters. Humans know little to nothing about monsters and its your job to find out. You given an internship and werewolves test subject to look over.

When you got accepted to work as an intern in a monster research facility you were determined to prove your worth and dedicate yourself to your research and supervisor.

You'd be under the wing of the head researchers in monster physiology and the thought made you buzz with excitement. Monsters are a known occurrence in your world but just how many or how they function still remains a mystery to regular people in the normal world. But here in the research facility you would change that and discover the secret of every monster.

You thought that wouldn't be a problem until they assigned your own test subject to look over. A massive werewolf named Amaris with golden eyes and soft fluffy brown and gray fur. After being subject to all sorts of experiments it was your job to make sure he was healthy, examine him, talk to him, feed him, pet him, comfort him.

Slowly your heart ached watching him locked in his cage, suddenly you didn't know if you were built to run this sort of research anymore. Time and time again you thought of handing him the key card and letting him escape, but you were just too conflicted. You wanted him to be free and get away but part of you didn't want to lose him. He was always so sweet he’d lick your hand and the gap between your fingers, his tongue wet and hot.

He was teasing you, you were sure, he'd sit on his knees looking up at you with his golden eyes, heavy with lashes giving you the sweetest bedroom eyes as he licked your fingers. Whine as you pet and scratch his ears, arching his back when you scratched it. Joke back when you talked about your day to him. Amaris loved your touch, the sound of your voice and he wanted you and everyone else to know it. He snarled and barked if any other intern tried to go near him and take over your job. He behaved well if it meant getting back to his room to be spoiled by you. Or he lash out on purpose to be comforted by you and bury his head in your lap demanding you pet and soothe him, his tail wagging smacking the floor content.

Once you forgot your lab coat in his room and Amaris spent the entire night getting high off your scent humping the pillow fervently with your coat wrapped around his face. His cock bounced on his pillow while his hand pumped his cock, squeezing his knot and wishing it was your cunt wrapped around it instead. By the end of the night his pillow was ruined and so was your coat along with his sense of shame. He threw away the pillow but kept your coat to comfort him for the rest of the month as he worthlessly jerked himself every night wishing it was you riding him instead. The nights passed and Amaris only felt his need for you to worsen when a full moon was approaching and Amaris knew he needed you, he needed to tell you how he felt. Every time you went to his cell to comfort him he'd struggle like a puppy in need of housebreaking to keep his cock in his pants and mount you.

Amaris was sure you'd seen his erection pressing through the fabric of his pants, at first he had the shame to cover himself and hide but as the full moon approached he seldom attempted to cover his cock straining the fabric at his crotch. He was sure you saw, he could smell your arousal thicker every day, sweet and musky drifting from that hidden place between your legs.

Finally it was the night of the full moon and he was rabid and feral. None of the researchers understood why, not that they could get near enough to find out why. As a last minute resort they decided to send you in to figure out why. The head researchers noticed Amaris strong preference for you and hoped he’d accept you and figure out why the werewolves lashed out so bad under the full moon every month. Little they know they know the knot thay had just tied you in.

Knocking gently on his cell door you walked in slowly seeing his room a scattered mess except for the bed. Standing at the center of the room with his back turned to you stood Amaris in his half form, gray and brown tail sweeping from side to side, his legs ending in massive wolf paws. Fur peaked out from his shirt covering his forearms, making his hair look thicker on his head two wolf ears perked up.

“Amaris?” You asked quietly, hoping you didn't startle him. Amaris instantly whipped around, golden eyes wide and crazed mouth open showing off his lengthened canines lining his mouth. Without a word he had you wrapped tightly in his arms.

“Y/n! y/n I missed you so much.” Nuzzling his head in your chest and neck he whined like a lost puppy, tail wagging happily as he held you. “Oh y/n if you only knew how much I need you right now”

“Amaris what's wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

“It's a full moon tonight y/n I need you, I need you so bad y/n. You have no idea how much strength it’s taking me right now”

“What does it mean when it's a full moon Amaris?” Puzzled you ask him

“I'm in heat y/n,” He looked up at you, his eyes round and pleading. “ I want you, I want to be inside you so bad. I need to be with you when I'm in heat. Please y/n say you want me too y/n, I need to know, if you don't i'll accept it.” Despite his desperate pleas he was honest, there was nothing more he wanted to do more than to bury his face in your cunt. But he had to know, he had to hear it from your lips. He wanted to know you wanted him too.

“I-I” You stutter at his sudden proposition, his words being enough to ignite the arousal all over your body, leaving you tingling. You wanted him there was no denial but you felt your face burn as the words formed in your mouth. Leaning in, you decided to answer him by kissing him. Surprised, his eyes went wide, golden eyes sparkling in excitement. Groaning, he leaned in, licking your bottom lip. He inhaled your scent tasting your saliva, he wanted more oh so much more and this kiss would only fuel his hunger.

Pulling away from the kiss a thread of saliva dripped from his mouth, his eyes lidded heavy with desire. “Say it, I want to hear you say it y/n. Say you want me, say you want me inside of you.”

Nearly moaning it you finally managed to say it aloud between wet slippery kisses, “I want you Amari. I need you inside me, please.”

Without a word he had you in the air before laying you down on his bed in his cell, his clawed hands tearing off your clothes until only your soaked panties remained. Taking in the sight he groaned, seeing the glistening patch forming around the sweet spot between your legs. Lazily he dragged his tongue across the fabric taking the juices that had formed, inhaling your scent. With a clawed hand he pulled your panties down before burying his face between your cunt, wet folds sliding deliciously across his face and mouth. His nose buried perfectly rubbing against your clit, sending waves of electric pleasure that made your toes curl with each sloppy kiss on your cunt.

It was nearly too much, you buried your finger in his curls as you tugged him deeper into your cunt, as he happily obliged. He felt his cock strain painful in his pants as he continued to eat your pussy out. He thrusted his tongue into you again and again, licking the juices until they dripped down his chin and neck. You tasted sublime, he drank your nectar between your legs until he was drunk with it. Sucking sweetly in your clit he gently teased your hole with his finger sliding in and out. Gasping you felt your pussy clench on nothing as he continued to tease your cunt with his finger.

Digging you fingers into his scalp you begged “ Please Amaris I indeed more, don't tease me like that”

Chest heaving as you begged, you gasped as you felt him slide in two fingers deep into your pussy. Pulling on his hair, grinding your pussy on his face, his fingers working your pussy coated in cum. He scissored his fingers stretching you out prepping you to fit his cock and his knott. Hips bucking you grind your hips feeling your first orgasm coming closer with each swirl and suck on your clit and each thrust of his fingers. Gasping you arch your back thighs shaking as you cum in his mouth. Juices flowing out into his tongue for him to lapp up like a dog.

Gasping you lay with shaking thigh as he lapped up the last of your juices making you quiver with each flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit. Slowly he sits up between your thighs and the cloth cock pressed against your cunt. Breathing heavily you lay on his bed watching as he pulls out his cock, long and girthy curved upwards with two veins bulging along its length from both sides. The tip looks a darker red brown glistening with a thick droplet of leaking cum. He pumps it twice in his hand and you notice a bulge at the base and your eyes go wide in small horror. His cock is massive as it is, but that bulge definitely won't fit.

Almost as if noticing your horror he looks up and smiles showing off his canines in a dashing reassuring smile, “ Don't worry darling, you'll fit around my knot I prepped you well.”

Aiming the tip of his cock you feel it press against your entrance spreading your lips around it. Moaning you writhing in bed feeling him dip his tip in and out teasing you again. Before you have a chance to complain he slides it in making you gasp in shock as your pussy is forced to swallow his cock.

Panting and arching your back, he grips your hips and begins to thrust viciously into you. Your cries are broken with each thrust. Gazing up at him you see a feral look in him. His eyes are laser focused on you, watching your tits bounce, seeing your pretty wet cunt stretched around his cock with each ramming thrust. Moaning you dig your nails into his hips as your next orgasm rips through you. Clenching down on his cock you cum around him pulling him in deeper. Just the sight of your pussy spread, clit exposed makes him shift completely losing any semblance of his half human form. Now instead you meet with a 7 foot werewolf drooling all over you, rippling muscles coated in soft fluffy brown fur with patches of silver to contrast his golden eyes, and a massive pink cock hanging between his legs.

Suddenly you cry out feeling him grow inside you, not cause he knotted you, but because of the massive wolf cock thrusting into you. Mewling incoherences you beg him to slow down but one looking down at you cunt you see your stomach bulge with each thrust making your eyes roll back. Swinging your head back you lock onto his furred arms mewling and begging him to fuck you.

“Amaris, you feel so good. Please fuck me Amaris it feel so good please dont stop.”

Wild but listening Amaris does not relent thrusting with the precise speed and position making sure you cry with each thrust as he hits your sweet spot everytime.

Quickening his pace he feels his balls grow tense as his own orgasm approaches. Burying deeper with each thrust, he feels his body shudder with ecstasy. Grabbing your waist he pulls you down with full force and position forcing his bulge and cock deep into your pussy. A scream rip through you feeling his knot stretch you pussy out a new orgasm squeezing the bulge of his cock like a vice. Wrapping your shaking legs around him you grind against his bulge riding out the high of your orgasm.

Throwing his head in a howl he thrusts his knot in you shuddering in release as his balls empty out loads of cum. Thick hot cum paint the inside of your pussy white flooding you, leaving you two a squelching mess of cum and sweat.

Gasping wrapped around him, you smile and pet his head scratching his ears in blissful satisfaction.

Whining Amaris begins to wag his tail as he humps you against the mattress interrupting your thoughts. Each hump rubbing the outer edge of his bulge against your clitoris.

“You wanna keep going, Amaris?” Asking sweetly, smiling at him.

“I won't be done until my heat is over y/n.”

“Mhmm?”

“I’ll just have to fuck that pretty pussy until my heart is over or you are drained by cock dry.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Grinning with a mouth full of sharp teeth he bent down to nuzzle and kiss you as he pushed the knot deeper into your pussy eating soft moans from your lips.

Outside from the cell in the research control room the red faced interns listening in on the microphone feed from the overhead in the control room realized their own assigned werewolves were acting abrasively from their heat and considered helping them by offering a willing pussy fuck or a dick for the she-wolves to bounce on. Others considered asking the other monster species if they too went through heats and if they did they wanted to know if they could help just the way you did. The head researchers, though embarrassed and red faced, wrote down the data and scribbled new plans on how to deal with the rest of the monster specimens for next month.

Authors note: Please let me know if y’all’s want a part two. Also please feel free to comment unhinged shit, that fuels me to write more.

[prettiestlovergirl]

DON'T STOP

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; semi-public; teasing; oral (f. receiving); light dacryphilia; established relationship; mean! mattheo; hickeys; pushing the french-speaking-mattheo agenda, but be warned my french is shit, they don't exactly teach you pet names in high school french class lol.

concept: you n mattheo are studying in the common room when he gets bored and comes up with a more interesting way to study.

a/n: this idea came to me when i was studying for my lab exam and thinking 'wow, this would be so much more fun with a mean curly haired man absolutely wrecking me' n so, here you go! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

you had been studying in the common room for what felt like hours now, really cramming for this godawful history of magic test. you were stressed out of your mind, but you couldn't risk missing a thing.

you were sitting up on the couch well into the night, your legs curled up underneath you as you continued to take notes in the silence, occasionally making a comment to yourself out loud while you worked.

you'd been so in the zone; you hadn't even noticed the second body entering into the room until you heard that familiar, deep voice in your ear.

"princesse, mon amour, (princess, my love,) what are you still doing up?" he asked, his voice a bit husky from sleep. you'd have been a bit turned on if you hadn't been so startled.

"bloody hell! you can't just sneak up on a girl like that." you hissed, setting your textbook down onto your lap while he chuckled at your startled reaction, waiting for you to go on.

"i'm still up because i have to study for this bloody test." you huffed, following him with your eyes as he walked around the couch, giving you the wonderful and incredibly distracting view of your boyfriend in those damned gray sweatpants.

"let me help." mattheo hummed, a wicked smirk growing on his face as he got himself situated on his knees in front of you. "need to get some studying in anyways." he stated, his hand gripping your ankle and tugging your forward.

"no, mattheo, stop. really, i need to study!" you whined, biting your lip as he tugged your legs out from under you. "we are gonna study, i'm just an active learner." he smirked, pressing a kiss to your ankle. "read the textbook out loud."

"mattheo..." you complained, huffing a bit as his started to kiss his way slowly up your leg. you shivered lightly, the view of him on his knees in front of you never failed to make your brain go a little fuzzy.

"c'mon princesse, (princess) need you to help me study. you don't want me to fail, do you?" he asked, giving you a fake pout as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts.

finally, you relented, just like he knew you would, and lifted your hips up for him. "bien, mon âme." (good, my soul) he smirked, sliding the fabric down your thighs and tossing it off to the armchair behind him.

if there was one thing mattheo loved, it was getting you to break so he could bury himself between your thighs. if you'd let him, he'd probably stay there forever, living in permanent pussy drunk bliss.

"start reading, princesse. (princess) thought you said you really had to study." he hummed, teasing you with his words and his fingers as he started to rub soft circles on your increasingly dampening panties.

it was sososo hard to focus with his hand on your clothed pussy, but still, you did as told and picked the textbook back up, starting to read aloud from where you left off.

you did your best to speak as clearly as possible, but it was almost impossible when his fingers pressed harshly against your covered clit.

he started rubbing the fabric into your skin, getting your panties soaked in your own arousal as your grip on the book tightened. "f-fuck!" you gasped.

"mm, don't recall fuck being in this history book, weird." he murmured, his lips pressing warm kisses along your thighs, lazily marking you all over as you let out an indignant little whine.

you glared down at him, but went back to reading aloud, doing your best to keep going through your uneven breaths. once he was perfectly satisfied with the number of marks on your thighs, he used his thumb to pull your panties to the side.

he groaned softly to himself, his tongue running along his lower lip as he admired your glistening pussy. you squirmed a bit, the cool air hitting your warm core making you stutter a bit as you went on.

"i-in the en-end, he was, uhm, unable to come out v-victorious" you stated, your voice breathy before your pretty lashes fluttered shut when his free thumb made contact with your bare clit.

"ah, ah, ah." he chided, pausing his actions but keeping his thumb pressed against the swollen nub. "can't touch you if you aren't reading, princesse. (princess) how are you gonna learn if your eyes are closed?"

"so mean..." you grumbled before letting out a gasp as he shoved two of his fingers into your pussy quickly, your eyes immediately opening again. "'m sorry, what was that?" he asked, curling his fingers up inside of you

"n-nothing! nothing, 'm sorry, nothing!" you moaned, his fingers immediately getting drenched in your arousal. "that's what i thought." he smirked, waiting for you to start reading again before thrusting them in and out.

"he had to... to f-flee━ oh fuck ━ civilization." you stuttered, your brain getting hazy again as he attached his lips to your puffy clit, happily gliding his tongue over it again and again. "from th- there, he h-had to be-become a stowaway."

he fucking loved how hard you were working, seeing how much effort it took you to get each word out only seemed to spur him on, making him speed up his fingers n suck a bit harder. "need you to speak up, princesse. (princess) really want to make sure i understand everything."

you let out a louder whine, sticking your lips out in a pout as you shook your head, your eyelids getting heavy n your breath getting all shallow. "fuck, fuck, fuck, i can't, please, i can't!" you whimpered, batting your lashes rapidly to blink away the budding tears.

mattheo let go of your clit with a wet pop, looking up at you intently while he curled his fingers up a second time. "aw look at you 'bout to cry." he mocked in faux sympathy as you looked down at him "you can and you will." he stated.

a sob finally broke past your lips as his tongue found its way back to your clit, your hips bucking and your hands tightening around the textbook.

your vision blurred, but you did your best to keep reading, your body slumped against the cushions as his tongue and fingers worked in sync to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

mattheo honestly could have stayed here forever, just devouring your messy cunt as you soaked his chin and fingers in your arousal. he lived for the way you whined and sobbed above him, loving your broken sentences.

this went on and on until finally you finished the chapter, another sob of relief escaping you as your back arched. "fuck, please, please mattheo i need to cum so fucking bad, please!" you begged, eyes squeezing shut.

"did so good f'me, princesse. (princess) so good, cum f'me." he hummed, sending vibrations onto your clit that finally pushed you over the edge, your cunt fluttering around his fingers while your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

your juices soaked him completely as he continued to suck your clit, going until you started to whine and beg him to stop, trying to squirm away from his eager lips.

"jesus..." you panted, placing a hand over your chest to feel your racing heart as you came down from your high.

"mon amour, (my love) jesus had nothing to do with your cum on my lips. credit's all mine." mattheo chuckled, that same devilish smirk on his lips.

"now, i think we should go over it one more time. just to make sure you've really got it memorized..."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

tags: @bratetteprincess , (gasp, dove reveal??? so soon??)

[moonchild9350]

Lavender Fields-Chapter Seven: Love

summary: Hyunjin is back and promises he's here to stay.

pairing: Hyunjin x humanoid!gn!reader

genre: sci fi au, romance au, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 3.4k

warnings: virginity loss, oral sex, sensual touch, clit play, dry humping, multiple rounds, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, squirting, cum shot

notes: this was definitely a sweet chapter to write :) so in love with these lovebirds hehe

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog ♡

series summary: you, a humanoid from a different planet, was born within a lab here on earth in the near future, your days filled with servitude and testing within the labs to learn more about your kind as your kind are not able to feel emotion. you had nothing to look forward to until you met Hyunjin, a technician assigned to you. you learn much at his hands and invaluable lessons, enlightening your once purposeless life.

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You both lay there between your blankets, Hyunjin's arms wrapped around you, cradling you to his warm body. You listen to his heart beat, the steady rhythm soothing in the silence of your room.

At some point you feel his eyes on you, prompting you to look up to meet his gaze. Hyunjin smiles as he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand, the skin taking on a pinkish glow.

You feel your pulse quicken, and your pelvis flutter and a stream of liquid leak from your core and into your panties. You’ve felt this way a few times around Hyunjin, but you’re not sure why.

You’re unsure if you should ask Hyunjin about it, your mind tossing and turning over the decision. You’re so lost in thought you don’t see Hyunjin frown, concern plastered on his face at your change in demeanor.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asks as softly as he strokes your waist.

You decide to ask as it’s Hyunjin after all. He’s aided you through everything, helping you label emotions and helped you learn how to feel.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out as you say, “when I'm with you, my heart beats wildly and i get flutters in my stomach. I want to be close to you.”

You paused for a moment as tears welled up in your eyes. “Please don’t leave again,” you pleaded as you stared into his eyes.

The tears continued streaming down your face, the droplets staining your skin and pillow. You sniffled as you pulled Hyunjin closer, burying your face in his chest.

You breathed in his scent, the smell of vanilla penetrating your nostrils. You clutched his shirt tighter as you let out a shakey breath, his arms holding you tighter.

“Sweetheart, I’ve felt the same way. When I see you I become protective, needing to be with you. My heart feels like it will explode it drives me insane. I love you y/n, god I do.”

He withdrew a little from you, so he could see your face. He wiped the tears from your eyes as he gazed at you with gentle eyes.

“I’m not leaving you again. We’re in this together okay? I love you, I really do.”

You looked at Hyunjin, the fluttering in your tummy increasing. You felt warm and tingly as your heartbeat quickened.

“Love?” You asked, never considered the term before.

Hyunjin nodded, “mmhm, love. That’s what this is.”

Love. You’ve read the word in your books, read descriptions but never had you experienced such a feeling. You decided you liked it, with Hyunjin no less.

Your breath caught as he brushed his hand down your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled you closer, your bodies almost touching within the small bed.

You could feel his breath on your skin, his lips inches from yours. As he squeezed your side, you felt a gush of arousal flood your panties, the fabric becoming wet and sticky against your core.

Seconds passed, neither of you moving as both of your breathing increased, your bodies molded together, until you felt his soft lips on yours.

You froze at the feeling, so soft like silk and so warm. You both laid there, lips pressed against each other, in no rush to move or do anything else, just enjoying the feel of each other.

You’ve never kissed anyone, but you let your instinct take over, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored Hyunjin’s lips pressed to yours. Hyunjin withdrew his lips before pulling you flush to him and crashing his lips to yours.

You moved your lips with his, keeping up with his passion as he pressed kiss after kiss to your lips. As he deepened the kiss, you let out a soft moan, the sound surprising to your ears causing you to freeze.

Hyunjin chucked at your reaction, your face cute in the dim lighting of your room. You stared at him with wide eyes, as you touched your lips, the feel of his still lingering.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin whispered as his fingers trailed down your spine causing you to shiver in his embrace.

He slipped his hands beneath your gown, his fingers hot against your skin as he trailed them up your thighs, your hips, and settling at your waist. You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours, feeling something long and hard press against your core.

You felt good, your body filled with warmth and your skin tingling as Hyunjin continued to gently roll his hips into yours.

Hyunjin’s breathed was raspy as he held you close, rocking his hardened cock into you, his lidded eyes on your face. He took in your beautiful features, your flushed cheeks, your widened eyes as you clutched onto his shirt.

His heart fluttered as you let out tiny moans, the sound music to his ears. He grasped your waist tighter, bringing his lips to yours again.

You readily accepted his lips your fingers drifting to his face. You lightly traced his cheeks and his neck until your fingers brushed through his hair, the strands silky and smooth under your touch.

“Can I have you? Are you mine?” Hyunjin breathed in between kisses. “Please be mine.”

You’d love nothing more. You wanted to be his, have for a while, your heart swelling at the thought of being with this man. You needed him like the air you breathe.

“Yes, yes,” you whispered back, sealing your response with a kiss.

Hyunjin grinned against your lips before pulling back. He gently helped you onto your back, parting your legs so he can fit between them more easily.

He reached for his shirt, pulling the fabric up and over his head to reveal his chest. You stared at the man, eyeing his toned chest, his muscular frame seeming comforting.

You looked on as he dragged his hands up your legs, playing with the hem of your gown as if asking permission to take it off. You nodded to let him know it was okay, taking a breath as Hyunjin griped the fabric as he dragged it up your body.

You laid there with only your panties, otherwise bare. You quickly covered your breasts, heat rising to your face in embarrassment.

Hyunjin took in your beautiful body, his hands gently running over your skin, savoring how you felt. He ran his hands over your chest, down your arms, slowly prying them apart so he could see all of you.

He smiled at you reassuringly as he brought your hands to your side.

“You’re beautiful y/n, let me see all of you,” he cooed as he continued to eye your body.

His eyes roamed over your toned belly, down to your baby blue panties. He licked his lips at the wet spot that had formed on the fabric, soaked through to where he could see the outline of your labia.

He leaned over you and met your lips with a kiss. You closed your eyes as he peppered wet kisses down your neck, your chest, his swollen lips wrapping around your nipple.

He began to lick and suck the nub, shocks of pleasure traveling down to your core as more slick leaked out. You let out a shriek as he nipped at both nipples before continuing down your belly to your pelvis, showering you with love as he worshipped your body.

You opened your eyes to see him press more kisses on your panties before licking a long strip through the folds, as he tasted you through the fabric.

You let out a moan as the pleasure was overwhelming, never having felt something so good. Hyunjin pressed a kiss to your clothed clit before grasping the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your legs slowly and gently.

He tossed them away before gripping your legs and parting them, his eyes trained on your soaking core. You whimpered as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently over the bud.

You reached out to grab his hair, your fingers clutching onto the strands as he rolled his tongue around. You closed your eyes and relaxed, lightly lifting your hips up to meet his face.

Hyunjin moaned as he tasted you, so sweet on his tongue. He pushed his face further into your core as he rubbed gentle circles on your thighs.

You were perfect, your skin so plush and smooth. Your moans soft and airy, a sound he could never get used to.

You whimpered as he detached from your clit and licked your slick that was pouring from your entrance before shoving his tongue within your hole. You clenched around the muscle, as he massaged your walls, taking in as much of your essence as he could.

“So sweet,” Hyunjin sighed as he lifted his head up, pressing feather soft kisses up your thighs, all while he continued to rub gentle circles on the skin with his fingers.

You ran your fingers through his hair, the soft locks easily drifting through as he moaned and made eye contact with you. You let out a breath as he sat up, giving you a smile as his finger fumbled with the button on his pants.

You swallowed thickly as your eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants. Your heart rate picked up as you felt nervous, unsure of what to expect next. As he dragged his pants down his legs, you bit your lip, your chest heaving.

As Hyunjin griped the waistband of his boxers and dragged them down, his cock finally released from the constricting confines of the fabric, you let out a shriek and closed your legs, covering your eyes in the process

You were terrified, that was the only way you could describe it. You tried to focus on your breathing, willing your heart to slow down, but it just wouldn’t.

You let out a yelp as you felt his hand on your knee, his gentle voice drifting to your ears.

“Y/n? What’s wrong love?” Hyunjin cautiously asked, his eyes widened in concern at your sudden change in demeanor.

Hyunjin watched as you peaked through your fingers, before closing them again.

“Mm scared,” he heard you whisper, his heart aching at the confession.

“Oh angel, it’s okay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do okay?” Hyunjin said as he attempted to soothe you.

There was silence as you consider his words, time passing slowly. Eventually, you came out of your makeshift hiding place, your eyes meeting Hyunjin’s. You knew he would take care of you, walk you through every step of the way.

You nodded your head as if signaling for him to proceed. Hyunjin gave you a gentle smile before placing his hands on your knees and pulling your legs apart, baring your soaking core to his eyes once more. Your eyes drifted back down to his cock, taking in his length.

You watched as he stroked the shaft, his hand barely encasing the length up until he reached the head, smearing the precum that was leaking from the tip.

Hyunjin was beside himself, watching your shy demeanor, your beautiful pussy, your slick steadily leaking out. He eyed your beautiful eyes, wide with curiosity and laced with fear, to your breast, the hardened nipples nice and perky in the chilly room. He couldn’t wait to have you and for the fact he would be your first did something to his ego, the thought going straight to his head.

He took a shaky breath, willing himself to calm down. Hyunjin brought his length to your core and slowly dragged it through your folds, teasing your puffy clit over and over. He let out a sigh as you moaned, his eyes glued to your entrance as it clenched down around nothing.

“Ready love?” Hyunjin murmured, as he looked at you searching for any hesitation.

“Yes, please,” you whispered, trusting the man above you.

Hyunjin smiled and pushed his cock to your entrance with his thumb, the tip prodding your hole. He gently pushed in, your walls engulfing the head. Hyunjin’s eyes snapped to yours, wanting to capture your reaction as he finally made you his.

You whimpered as he pushed again, his cock spreading you open. You felt tears well up in your eyes at the sting as he invaded your walls. With another push, he slid all the way in as he let out a moan. You took a breath and let it out, trying to breathe through the discomfort you were feeling.

Hyunjin froze as panic took over, seeing the pain etched on your face. “Are you okay angel?” He inquired, ready to stop at a moments notice if you requested it.

You took a moment before looking in his eyes and nodding. Hyunjin smirked as he began to move, his cock sliding out of your walls before being sucked right back in.

He was slow and gentle, his eyes darting everywhere as he didn’t know where to look first. You wrapped around him perfectly, so wet and warm. He let out a shaky breath simultaneously as you let out a groan, the feeling of pain slowly turning into a pleasurable sensation.

You stared at Hyunjin with big eyes as he thrusted within you, your body jolting up and down with each movement. You were wet, incredibly so, aiding the slide of his cock within you, the sound audible in your tiny room.

Hyunjin leaned down, caging you within his arms as he increased his pace, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing louder and louder, mixing with the cacophony of your moans.

You were perfect, so perfect, like you were made for him. Hyunjin was close, overwhelmed with his impending orgasm. He quickly brought his fingers to your clit, wanting you to come with him. He swallowed your moans with a breathy kiss, his face becoming wet from the tears that were falling down your cheeks.

You felt a pleasurable sensation within your core, the feeling building with each stroke of Hyunjin’s cock and flick of his fingers on your nub. Letting out moan after moan, you finally tipped over the edge as a white hot sensation exploded and spread through you, your pussy spasming around his cock attempting to keep him in. Time passed as your orgasm continued causing Hyunjin to let go, as spurts of his cum flooded your walls and leaked out of your entrance.

He collapsed on top of you as he caught his breath in between pressing lazy kisses to your neck. You cradled his hair, playing with the little curls, as you thought about what just occurred.

You felt good, more than good actually and didn’t want to let go, wanting Hyunjin to take you over and over until you collapsed from exhaustion. You stared up at Hyunjin with hope in your eyes as he withdrew his cock, a flood of your fluids leaking onto the sheets below.

As if reading your mind, Hyunjin smirked before flipping you over, chuckling as you let out a yelp. He bullied his still hardened cock within your walls again, fucking you hard and fast, coaxing out your little whimpers as he pleasured your sweet body.

And as you came with a deafening wail once more on his cock, Hyunjin released himself within you, pressing his hips flush to your ass, so every drop of him cum deposited within you.

You let out a whine as he got off of you and pulled you into his arms, pressing wet kisses down your cheeks until his lips captured yours.

As the night wore on, you both were a tangled mess, his cock bringing you to ecstasy over and over until you fell asleep exhausted within his warm embrace.

-- --

You awoke the next morning, your body sore in places you’ve never been sore in before. Despite the feeling you were happy, snuggling into Hyunjin's chest as you reveled in his warmth. As your eyes closed again, you felt Hyunjin shift as his arms wrapped around you tighter.

“Morning angel,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice an octave deeper than usual.

You smiled as he drew patterns lazily on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he pressed his face against your hair, breathing in the fruity scent of your shampoo.

“I feel amazing,” you said, lifting your head to gaze into his eyes.

Hyunjin chuckled as his fingers drifted lower, down your back to your hips before reaching between your legs to find your warmth. Your breath hitched as he pressed his fingers against your clit, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to gentle circle your bundle of nerves, teasing you and playing with different speeds as he circled his wrist. You felt a little sensitive after last nights love making, but that only made you feel even better which was evident by how you were coating his fingers with your sticky arousal.

You buried your head in his chest, your breath uneven as he pleasured you, slowly, softly, lazily, in no rush as it was just the two of you in the early morning hours. And as you felt the coil build within your belly, you let out a moan before biting Hyunjin’s skin, your teeth leaving an indentation behind.

You felt Hyunjin grind against you, his cock nudging your thighs in time with his fingers. It was silent throughout your room, with only the sounds of your wet pussy and occasional moans echoing off the walls. You felt your breath catch as your orgasm barreled through your body so strong that you were seeing stars. You felt a wet sensation stream out of you, coating Hyunjin’s fingers and belly as you rode out your high.

Hyunjin groaned as you squirted, your orgasm wrecking your frame as he continued to stroke your clit. He focused on your pleasure, swirling his wrist left, right, up, down before pinching the nub. He couldn’t hold back as he came, his cum painting your folds and belly.

As you both came down, you breathed together, basking in your post orgasmic afterglow.

Hyunjin cradled you in his arms, beyond satisfied. You were his and he was yours. Your souls dared to be together in this messed up world. He didn’t want this to end. He wanted to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.

He knew the lab wouldn’t let you go willingly. You were too precious to the lab. He needed to come up with something however, a plan of some sort.

“Angel?” Hyunjin asked, wanting to see what you thought.

You looked up at him, curiosity in your eyes as he bit his lip in contemplation. He didn’t respond to you for a while, the seconds turning into minutes. You didn’t rush him however, just let him think and get his thoughts together.

Finally, he opened his mouth and uttered the words that he was slightly nervous to say.

“Run away with me. You and me.”

You froze in his arms in disbelief. Hyunjin wants to run away with you? Were you really surprised? You both were meant to be, made for each other, that’s one thing you knew for sure. You’d do anything he’d ask, without a moments hesitation but running away? How would he get you out?

Hyunjin could tell your mind was working overtime, as he noticed the creases in your forehead, your eyes scrunched in concentration. He gently smoothed out the lines, feeling your body relax in his hold once more.

“Okay,” you whispered, as you scooted even closer to him.

“Really?” He asked, trying not to let how he was feeling show.

You nodded yes and smiled, letting him know you were one hundred percent serious.

“Ah angel, I’m the happiest man alive,” he gushed before capturing your lips with his in a passionate kiss.

You sighed at the feel of his lips on yours, excitement cursing through your body at the thought of being able to do this whenever you pleased. You whimpered as Hyunjin deepened the kiss, your mouth opening and welcoming his tongue as it danced with yours.

You felt his cock slowly fill out as you both lazily kissed, catching your breath every now and then to gaze into each others eyes. Hyunjin smiled at you as he shifted your leg so he could slide into your warmth. You both were entwined, a thin sheen of sweat littered on your skin as you moved as one, taking each other to your highs once more.

And as Hyunjin came in you one last time, he muttered the three little words that made your heart flutter within your chest and butterflies dance within your stomach.

“I love you.”

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