#he’s not exactly how i envision him but it’s a start!

[cheynovak]

Sweetheart

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character     

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine, absently watching the room filled with chatter and laughter. It had been a long week, and I needed a quiet moment to myself. At least that was the plan. But life had a funny way of messing up those plans.

Because across the room, sitting at a table with a group of familiar faces, was Jensen Ackles. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Jensen.

The memories hit me like a wave—late-night drives, stolen kisses under the stars, the reckless thrill of being young and in love. We were high school sweethearts once upon a time. Back when things were simple, before his acting career took off and our lives spun in completely different directions.

I thought I’d gotten over him. After all, it had been a lifetime. But there he was, laughing with his friends—Jared, Gen, and his wife, Danneel. All smiles, completely unaware that I was sitting there watching from a distance, fighting the urge to bolt out of the bar.

Just as I was about to slip out quietly, he turned, his eyes catching mine. His laughter stilled, replaced by a look of pure shock. Then, something softened in his expression—recognition, nostalgia, maybe even regret. Before I knew it, he was standing up and walking toward me.

“Y/N?”

His voice was the same as I remembered—deep, with that familiar Texas drawl that used to make my heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Jensen.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but seeing him up close after all these years made my chest tighten.

“Wow, it’s really you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been forever.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

He glanced back at his table, where Danneel was eyeing us curiously, and then turned back to me. “Listen, we’ve got some room at our table. You should come join us. Catch up a bit?”

I hesitated. Sitting down with Jensen and his friends wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned spending my evening, but something about the look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile.

As we walked over, Danneel’s eyes flickered between us, but she smiled politely when I sat down. Jared gave me a big grin, and Gen waved. They were all friendly, but I could feel the tension in the air.

--

“So, Y/N, how do you know Jensen?” Jared asked, breaking the ice.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at me. “We went to high school together. We eh... Dated for a while, actually.”

There was a brief pause before Jared’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re that Y/N?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I am.” looking at Danneel, who didn't seemed pleased with me being there.

--

Jensen and I were thrown back into the past. We started talking about the memories we had buried for years—the late-night drives, the reckless things we used to do when we were teenagers, and how Jensen once stole his dad’s car just so we could drive around town at 2 a.m.

“You were terrified we’d get caught,” Jensen teased, nudging me with his elbow. “But you still climbed in anyway.”

“I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I shot back. “Plus, you were always the smooth talker. I figured if we got pulled over, you’d charm your way out of it.”

Jared laughed. “Oh man, I can picture that. Jensen with that cheesy grin, trying to sweet-talk the cops.”

Gen leaned in, smiling. “And you stayed out all night?”

“Not all night,” I said, laughing. “But we drove around for a while, talking about everything and nothing.”

“Yeah, and you made me park by the lake...” Jensen added, his voice softening. My breath caught at that, the intensity of his gaze bringing back memories I thought I’d buried.

There was a time when he knew everything about me and I never miss one of his games, no matter the sport, how he’d always catch my eye from the field or the court and flash that smile, just for me.

Sitting there with Jensen, surrounded by his friends, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being transported back in time. The weight of years between us was starting to slip away with every memory that bubbled up between us.

Jensen leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people in the room. “Do you remember when you used to just sit in your room, lost in one of those books, and I’d be trying to get your attention?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the memory as clear as day. “Oh God, you mean when you’d literally cling to my legs like some sort of needy puppy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a teasing look. “Jensen, you would lie on the bed, wrap your arms around my knees, and just hold on while I tried to read. I couldn’t even walk, and all you’d do was look up at me, waiting for me to give in.”

Jared snorted into his drink, clearly amused by the image of a younger Jensen desperately vying for attention.

“I had to fight for your attention,” Jensen said, a twinkle in his eyes. “But honestly? I secretly loved it when you’d ignore me and just keep reading. You always looked so peaceful, completely lost in whatever world you were in.”

My smile softened, a warmth blooming in my chest. Those quiet moments, when it was just the two of us, had been some of my favorites. No words, no pressure—just the comfort of being with each other.

“Then there were the not-so-quiet moments,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Like that time during one of your soccer games, when you got hurt…”

“Oh man,” Jensen groaned, already knowing where I was headed.

Gen leaned forward, clearly invested in the story. “What happened?”

“He got tackled pretty hard during a game,” I said, recalling the scene like it was yesterday. “The ref didn’t call anything, and I lost it. I yelled at him from the bleachers so loudly, everyone turned to look.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “You were fuming. I swear, I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

“I was ready to throw hands with that referee,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt as the memory surged. “No one was going to hurt you on my watch.”

Danneel, who had been quietly sipping her drink, quirked a brow at that, her smile tightening ever so slightly. I ignored the tension radiating from her side of the table, trying to focus on the flood of old memories that were coming back faster than I could process. Maybe it was time to stop this trip down memory lane, but Jensen thought different.

“And then there was that trip to my family’s lake house,” Jensen said suddenly, his voice dipping into a playful tone. His eyes glinted with mischief, and I knew exactly what story he was about to bring up. “Remember how my dad almost caught us?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “How could I forget? You made me jump out of a window, Jensen.”

Jared nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Jensen was grinning like an idiot now, clearly relishing in the memory. “After a school year of dating each other, my family invited her along for the summer."

I added: "We were supposed to be in separate rooms, you know—strict family rules. That was my moms only rule."

"But I snuck Y/N into my room late that night. We were just talking, hanging out. Nothing crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, just talking—until we heard your dad walking down the hall. You panicked and threw me out of the window.”

Jensen burst out laughing. “You didn’t even hesitate! I told you to jump, and you were out of there in seconds.”

“You gave me no choice! Your dad knocked on the door, and I thought for sure we were caught,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it now. “I ended up hiding under the deck in my pajamas, freezing, while you played it cool upstairs like nothing happened.”

“I’m impressed,” Gen said, grinning. “That’s some serious stealth.”

“I wasn’t feeling too stealthy at the time,” I admitted, still laughing. “But we made it out alive, somehow.”

Jensen shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “That weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had, though. We stayed up late, talked about everything—your dreams, my acting, what the future might look like. You made me feel like I could do anything.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. I remembered those nights vividly, especially one night, the night I lost my virginity to Jensen. He made sure it was perfect. And I was pretty sure that night was on his mind right now, while he was smirking looking at his hands on the table.

Besides a romantic he was also full of ambition back then, and I was convinced he’d make it big. I had always believed in him, even when the world seemed like it was asking for too much.

There was a moment where it felt like everything around us had faded, like the rest of the table didn’t exist. Just me and Jensen, sitting in the memories of a time when we were so young and so sure of each other.

But then, just as quickly, the weight of the present came crashing back in.

Danneel shifted beside him, her eyes on me, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “So, why did it end?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “If everything was so perfect back then?”

The question hung in the air, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The reality of it all—the years apart, the heartbreak, the different lives we’d built—crashed down on me.

Jensen was looking at me, his expression unreadable. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t relive that part of the story. The part where we broke up, where his career took him away, where I was left behind to figure out how to move on without him.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my glass. “Sometimes life just takes you in different directions,” I said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “Jensen’s acting career was taking off, and I… I had my own path to follow. We couldn’t make it work with the distance.”

It was a truth that still stung, even after all this time. I’d always been proud of him, but it didn’t make it any easier when our worlds no longer fit together.

Jensen looked like he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t stay. Not with Danneel’s question lingering in the air, not with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I should really get going,” I said, forcing a smile, my voice tight. “It’s getting late.”

Jensen reached out as if he wanted to stop me, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

“I’m glad we got to catch up,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was nice seeing you, Jensen. All of you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, I turned and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the storm swirling inside of me.

Some memories were just too heavy to carry, even when they were wrapped in laughter.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the bar, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My chest felt tight, and I didn’t stop walking until I was far enough away that I could breathe again.

Some things were better left in the past. Even if the heart had a way of clinging to them.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, my heart raced. I thought I could escape the weight of the past, but as I made my way down the sidewalk, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps rushing after me.

“Y/N!” Jensen called, his voice full of urgency. I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see him closing the distance between us, concern etched on his face. He caught up to me, gently grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his breath coming a bit heavier. The warmth of his hand on my arm sent a shiver through me.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening as I looked into his deep green eyes. “What is it, Jensen?”

"Don't leave like that please." I shuffled nervously.

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, he was trying to stall. “Neither have you.”

He tilted his head, an amused grin forming on his lips. “Have you ever even cut your hair differently?” I asked.

Instinctively, my hand moved to his hair, brushing my fingers through the familiar softness. The moment hung in the air between us, electric and charged with memories. But as I realized what I had done, my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pulling my hand back, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

But he held my hand in place, bringing it back to his side, fingers intertwined. “You clearly missed 15 years of my career,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh no, I really liked Supernatural.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You watched?”

I looked down, a shy smile creeping onto my face. “I promised you I’d support you. Always.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, the gentle touch sending a spark through me. His eyes locked on my lips. “It would be wrong if I want to kiss you, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought. “Yeah, right…”

But deep down, my heart was screaming the opposite. It wanted to feel his perfect lips against mine again, to bridge the gap that had formed between us over the years. All the memories of stolen kisses, laughter, and the way he used to look at me flooded back, overwhelming me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go all those years ago,” he said suddenly, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air breaking the chain of thoughts. “I thought I could handle it, but I never realized how much I’d miss you.”

My breath caught at the honesty in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. “Jensen…”

“I know... and I don’t want to put you on the spot,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But seeing you tonight brought back... rverything, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of happiness and longing. “You matter, Jensen. You always have.”

He stepped closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air. “Then why did we let it slip away?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Because life happened,” I replied softly, my voice shaking. “We both got caught up in our dreams and forgot how to hold on to each other.”

“But we’re here now,” he said, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “Can’t we just…?”

The warmth of his hand still holding mine, the softness of his touch—it felt so right. Everything in me wanted to say yes, to lean in and kiss him and pretend that nothing had ever changed. But reality loomed like a shadow, reminding me of all that had passed between us.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my heart torn between what I wanted and what I thought was right.

He stepped even closer, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. “ I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my heart swell, but the fear of what that meant for us, after all this time, pulled me back. I could feel the tension between us thickening, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

And for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. To feel his lips against mine, to reclaim that spark that had never truly gone away.

But then I remembered Danneel’s earlier words, the weight of their relationship looming like a cloud over us. It felt wrong, messy, and yet—

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it would ease the tension hanging between us.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

The seriousness in his voice sent a rush of warmth through me, and before I knew it, he moved in closer, his intentions clear. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—he was giving me a chance to back out. But I didn’t want to back out. I couldn’t.

As he leaned in, I saw the same teenage boy I had fallen for all those years ago. The one who had clung to my legs while I read, the one who had made me laugh until my sides hurt, the one who had kissed me beneath the stars and took my breath away. That sweet, sweet young man who had always made me feel like I was his whole world.

His freckles were lighter now, but his eyes still shone with that same vibrant light that had captivated me back then. It was like he had somehow retained every part of himself that I had loved. And suddenly, the chaos of our lives faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of us standing there in the night, the world around us falling silent.

When his lips brushed over mine, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. The warmth of his touch ignited something deep within me, pulling me back to that summer by the lake, when everything felt perfect and right. I could almost hear the sound of the water lapping at the shore, feel the gentle breeze on my skin.

It was there, in that sacred space between us, that I remembered the first time he said, “I love you.” It was shy, a whisper barely carried by the wind, but it was everything I had ever wanted to hear. That moment was etched in my heart, and now, with his lips on mine again, it felt like we were reclaiming it.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if we were both afraid of breaking the spell we were under. I felt my heart racing, every inch of my skin alive with sensation. He tasted like the memories of my youth—sweet, familiar, and filled with promise.

As we pulled away slightly, our foreheads resting against each other, I could see the questions dancing in his eyes, the uncertainty mingling with hope.

As we stood there, the worries of our past and the complexities of our present became distant echoes.

And all I could think of was maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other again.

Jared walked outside, his voice made me almost jump, but Jensen still held me. "Jensen, we're leaving, man."

Jensen turned his face but kept looking at me.

"I'll be right there."

I let go of him, both our eyes filled with tears either of joy that we found each other again, or out of spite we had to let go again.

"Bye." I whispered.

"Bye."

--

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[birdskullz]

who let this maniac into my sketchbook?? go home sir 🔪

[moonlit-orchid]

These two lines in the movie make me the most mentally unwell.

"I should have been the one to go. You needed your mother more than you needed me."

The amount of layers to this, oh my god. He's blaming himself for being alive. He probably wants to die. He genuinely thinks Adrian needs Emilie more.

And it's been YEARS since Emilie's passed away. Look how tiny Adrian is over there, he only just about comes about the bedpost. Gabriel still looks like he did in the pictures of when Adrian was little. It's been literal years. It could have literally been a full decade ago.

And Gabriel breaks the narrative here. He's supposed to be telling a story, he's supposed to be saying what happened in the past. But at this point, he doesn't say "your mother was taken from us" or anything like that referencing Emilie's passing. The story breaks, he's using a statement. I should have been the one to go. It's completely out of the story, because he isn't saying what he felt then, there's no "I felt like I should have been the one to go". It's just "I should have been."

Because he still thinks this. It's been about a decade, and his opinion, his feelings about this, is still "I should have died". It interrupts his storytelling because of how strongly he feels this way, almost like it's a fact to him.

And then he follows it with "You needed your mother more than you needed me." Again, he says this like it's a fact, like Adrian actually did need his mother more. Because he believes it himself. And this could be because of so many things. It could be because of the way people consider the mother to be the one supposed to care for the children much more than the father, or it could be that Gabriel himself didn't see how much Adrian needed him, or even that Gabriel didn't see himself as useful to Adrian. Especially because he said he should have been the one to die. He's essentially saying he was useless. That he was expendable but Emilie wasn't. He literally is implying he doesn't see any worth in himself regarding being a father.

And then it's not just his grief, it's Adrian's grief that has him desperate to bring Emilie back. He literally doesn't care about himself, he wants his son to be happy and doesn't see himself as able to do that. He loves him to the point of being suicidal and self-sacrificing if it would give Adrian what he need, all while simultaneously not seeing himself as what Adrian needs because he doesn't think he has that much worth regarding him.

[pucksandpower]

Fixer Upper

Max Verstappen x interior designer!Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen is the most frustrating client you’ve ever dealt with … but maybe he can make it up to you

“How about some pops of color in here?” You suggest brightly, gesturing around the stark white walls of Max Verstappen’s new Monaco penthouse.

The Dutch driver sniffs, glancing up briefly from his phone. “No thanks. I like it plain.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he does. You’ve been working with Max for two weeks now trying to decorate his new home, but so far he’s shot down every single idea you’ve proposed.

As an interior designer based in a principality known for catering to the rich and famous, you’re used to difficult clients, but Max may just take the cake. Still, you’re determined to give him the space he desires … if you can only figure out what that is.

“Alright, plain it is,” you say evenly. “But we should at least add some artwork, don’t you think? Something modern and sleek could look fantastic against these walls.”

Max doesn’t even glance up this time. “No art. Don’t like it.”

You inhale slowly. “Okay, no problem. We’ll keep it artless.” Time to switch gears. You gesture to the expansive bank of windows along one wall. “These floor-to-ceiling windows are incredible, some of the best views in Monaco. We could do some fabulous seating here to take advantage of the natural light. Maybe a chaise lounge or two angled toward the harbor ...”

“Don’t need seating.” Max is focused on his phone, thumbs flying. “I’ll just put my sim rig there.”

Your eye twitches involuntarily. His racing simulator setup — in front of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the most coveted views in the principality? Absolutely not.

“Well,” you begin delicately, “Perhaps we could find another place for your sim, one that doesn’t obstruct the views quite so much. I’m sure we could-”

“No, I want it there,” Max interrupts flatly. “I like seeing the water while I drive.” His attention doesn’t waver from the screen in his hands.

You close your eyes briefly and take a calming breath. Alright. No color, no art, and a sim smack in front of priceless views. So much for design aesthetics. Time for a new tactic.

“You must do a lot of cooking,” you say brightly, turning towards the kitchen. “This is an amazing culinary space. We could do some open shelving with sleek finishes to highlight the quartz countertops.”

Silence. Max just gives a non-committal grunt, still absorbed by his phone.

You soldier on. “Or maybe some nice warm wood cabinetry for contrast? I have some fantastic artisan contacts who could do handmade custom designs.”

“Don’t cook much,” he mutters.

Your smile tightens. “Not to worry, we can keep the kitchen minimal too.” Is there anything, anything at all, you can propose that he won’t immediately shoot down? You’re starting to doubt it.

Switching to the living area, you smooth down your dress and try again. “For the living room, I was thinking we could do built-in bookcases along the back wall there, and maybe expose some of the original brick behind for an industrial chic look ...”

Max glances up from his phone to level an unimpressed look at you. “But we’re inside. Brick would make no sense.”

You close your eyes briefly. Of course not. “My mistake, you’re absolutely right,” you say through gritted teeth. Enough pussyfooting around. Time to be direct.

You plant yourself in front of where Max sits on the couch and place your hands on your hips. “Max, I’m going to be honest. I’m having trouble getting a sense of your style and vision for this space. You’ve rejected all my ideas so far.”

He blinks up at you blandly. “I don’t like any of your ideas. This is my place and I want to do what I want.”

You resist the urge to tear your hair out in frustration. “Of course, and I want you to have exactly what you want. But in order to do that, I need you to communicate with me. Tell me what kind of look and feel you envision for your home. Modern, traditional, minimalist? What colors and textures appeal to you?”

Max just shrugs, his attention already drifting back to his phone. “I don’t know. Just make it nice.”

Oh for god’s sake. You inhale slowly through your nose. “Perhaps you could show me some inspiration photos of interiors you like?”

“Nah, don’t feel like it.”

That’s it. You’ve had it with this infuriating man. You know you shouldn’t lose your cool with a client, but you’re at the end of your rope.

“Well, I’m afraid ‘make it nice’ doesn’t give me much to go on,” you snap sarcastically. “I can’t read your mind, Max. So unless you start providing concrete input on what you actually want, I’m resigning from this job.”

You expect anger, or at least surprise at your outburst. But Max just regards you evenly for a moment, then nods. “Okay, fair enough. The truth is ...” He pauses, looking faintly embarrassed. “I just wanted an excuse to spend more time around you.”

You blink, blindsided. “I’m sorry, what?”

A slight flush rises in Max’s cheeks. “I didn’t actually care about the decor that much. I just thought if I kept saying no to all your ideas, you’d have to stay involved with the project longer.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “Guess I took the stubborn client thing too far.”

You’re dumbfounded. And, if you’re being honest, a little charmed. “Let me get this straight — you’ve been wasting my time and driving me crazy for two weeks because you … have a crush on me?”

Max winces. “When you put it like that, I sound like an idiot.”

You have to laugh. “A bit, yeah.” But you can’t help but feel a warm flutter in your stomach too. You’ve always thought Max was cute in a boyish way. Knowing he orchestrated this whole thing just to spend time with you is, admittedly, very flattering. And more than a little endearing.

Max rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be difficult on purpose. I just ...” He trails off with a helpless little shrug.

You take pity on him. Yes, leading you on a wild goose chase of rejected designs was unprofessional. But the hesitant smile he’s giving you now tugs at your heartstrings anyway.

“Well, I appreciate you coming clean,” you say gently. “How about we start fresh? I’d love to actually get your real input now on what you want.”

His smile widens, grey eyes lighting up. “Yeah?”

You can’t help but smile back. “On one condition.”

He nods eagerly. “Name it.”

“You take me to dinner.” You arch an eyebrow. “To make up for the stress you caused me over the past two weeks.”

Max lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Deal.” He shakes his head ruefully. “I really made a mess of this, didn’t I?”

“Little bit, yeah.” You grin to soften the reproach. “Next time just ask me out for a drink. It’s a much more straightforward approach.”

“Duly noted.” He smiles sheepishly.

You move to sit next to him on the couch. “So tell me honestly, what kind of look are you picturing for this place?”

Max considers the blank canvas of a space. “Honestly, I’m open to anything you suggest. I trust your taste — I’ve seen your work before and it’s amazing.” His eyes meet yours. “But I do definitely want my sim rig with a view. That part wasn’t a lie.”

You laugh. “We can make that work.” Your gaze travels over the strong lines of his face, the mussed brown hair, the wry curve of his smile that makes your heart beat faster.

As you begin sketching possible layout options, you make a mental note to clear your schedule for dinner soon. Very soon.

***

“Well, this is … quite a space,” you say diplomatically as the hostess leads you and Max to your table.

You’re immediately assaulted by a riot of clashing colors and patterns as your gaze darts around the trendy restaurant he’s brought you to for dinner. Your trained designer’s eye picks out aesthetic atrocities everywhere you look.

An art deco mirror topped by an incongruous ultra-modern light fixture. Fussy rococo chairs paired with sleek metal tables. And dear god, is that shag carpeting?

“Yes, Le Chat Noir is very popular right now,” Max agrees, seemingly oblivious to the decor travesties surrounding you.

You hold your tongue as the hostess seats you. The haphazard decor choices are an assault on your senses, but you don’t want to seem rude on your first date with Max.

A server appears to take your drink orders. You welcome the distraction, busying yourself with the wine list. But as soon as he departs, Max leans forward, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Alright, I know that look. Out with it — what do you really think?”

You bite your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gestures broadly around. “Of all this.”

You hesitate. “The decor is certainly … interesting.”

Max grins. “I can tell you absolutely hate it.”

You wince. Damn, he’s perceptive. And here you were trying so hard to remain poker-faced.

“Sorry,” you say with an embarrassed laugh. “I was attempting to refrain from judgment, but it appears I failed.”

“No need to apologize.” He settles back in his chair. “Please, critique away. I want to hear your professional opinion.” His eyes dance with humor. “Don’t hold back.”

Well, far be it from you to turn down an invitation like that. As your drinks arrive, you take a fortifying sip of wine before launching in.

“Alright, you asked for it.” You set the glass down firmly. “This space is an absolute disaster from a design perspective. It’s like the interior decorator was blindfolded and threw darts at a wall covered in paint swatches and fabric samples. Nothing goes together at all.”

You point above your table. “That light fixture up there? Ultrasmack modern against 19th century crown molding? Make it make sense.”

Max chuckles. “Quite the mashup.”

You lean forward, on a roll now. “And this carpet!” You gesture in horror to the shag beneath your feet. “This trend needs to retire immediately. It looks like an avocado fucked a bear.”

Max nearly chokes on his drink. “A what now?”

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean. Just tragic.”

Sitting back, you take in the rest of the garish space. “The artwork over there is just hideous. And that tufted velvet on the booths makes me want to scream. Who decided olive green was an accent color that pairs well with anything?”

You turn back to Max, on a tirade now. “Honestly, nothing works. The proportions are bad, the color palette is an atrocity, the mixture of styles is absurd. It’s like the designer threw every conceivable element at the wall to see what would stick. I could have done a better job blindfolded after downing a bottle of tequila.” You finally stop for breath, cheeks flushed.

Max has an enormous grin on his face. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling too. “Sorry for the outburst. Like I said, feel free to tell me to zip it.”

“Are you kidding? I could listen to you shred this place all night.” Max shakes his head, looking delighted. “I’ve never seen you so worked up. It’s adorable.”

You blush, smoothing your hair self-consciously. “Oh hush. I just have … strong opinions when it comes to interior design choices.”

“Clearly.” Max’s eyes positively dance with affection. “I love how passionate you are. And your criticisms are spot on. This place really is horrendously designed.”

You blink in surprise. “Wait, you actually agree? You’re not just humoring me?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not. My knowledge doesn’t come remotely close to yours, but even I can tell everything in here clashes hideously.” He gestures at the table. “I mean, a wooden chair back with a metal seat? Just pick one material!”

You grin, happiness blossoming in your chest. It’s such a treat to have him validate your expert opinions instead of just patronizing them like many dates would. You launch eagerly back into listing all the ways the restaurant decor offends you, with Max chiming in occasional agreement or egging you on for more.

By the time your food arrives, you’ve dissected the lighting, furniture, textiles, and color schemes within an inch of their lives. Max watches you intently the whole time, blatantly enraptured by your critiques. Your wine glass is nearly empty from all the gesticulating.

“Well, I think that covers all the ways this interior design should be illegal,” you conclude, taking a bite of your meal. “Thanks for indulging me. I know I can get carried away analyzing spaces.”

“I could listen to you trash talk bad design forever.” Max can’t seem to rip his eyes away from yours. “I love how opinionated you are. And you look so damn sexy getting all fired up about it.”

A pleasurable shiver runs through you at his heated look. Maybe ripping this restaurant to shreds wasn’t the most conventional date conversation, but it clearly impressed Max. Nothing like a shared hatred of garish decor to bring two people together.

“Well, I’m glad one of us enjoys these tirades,” you laugh. You cock your head coyly. “Maybe I could come over sometime outside of work and critique your place again now that it’s shaping up. I’m sure I can find a few more things to complain about.”

Max’s eyes darken. “I’d like that.” He leans forward with a roguish smile. “Maybe we can get out of here and you can tell me all the ways you’d redesign the bedroom in my current apartment. You know, so we can avoid making those mistakes again while you help decorate my bedroom in the penthouse.”

You nearly choke on your wine, heat flooding your face. And lower regions. Goodness, Max’s flirty side really brings out your inner vixen.

You recover and stroke his ankle lightly with your heel under the table. “I’d be happy to provide any hands-on design consultation you require.”

Max sucks in a sharp breath, eyes blazing. The temperature between you two has risen about fifty degrees in the last few seconds. Suddenly you want nothing more than to leave this horribly designed restaurant and get him alone.

Immediately.

***

“A good mattress is crucial for proper sleep and recovery,” Max declares as you walk into the upscale furniture store together. “We need to test them thoroughly.”

You allow him to lead you to the mattress section, hiding a smile. When Max asked you to come mattress shopping with him for his new bedroom, you’d naively thought it would be a quick errand. But knowing Max, you should have guessed he’d take the task of “testing” mattresses very seriously.

An eager salesperson appears. “Welcome! Are we looking for any mattress in particular today?”

“We want to try them all,” Max announces, eyeing the rows of display beds keenly.

The salesperson falters. “Er, all of them?”

“How else will we know which is best?” Max shrugs as if this is obvious.

You squeeze his arm, charmed by his matter-of-fact logic. The salesperson forces a professional smile.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He gestures expansively at the floor models. “I’ll be right here if you have any questions.”

“Excellent.” Max wastes no time striding over to the nearest bed. He sits, then lies back experimentally. “Hmm, decent firmness.” He pats the empty space beside him. “Come try it out.”

You curl up next to him, hiding your smile at the salesperson’s raised eyebrows. When you said you’d help Max pick out a mattress, this wasn’t what you pictured. But you have to admit, lying here with him is fun.

Max frowns. “Too much motion transfer when you move.” He sits up abruptly. “Next!”

You have to smother a laugh as you follow him to the next display. This no-nonsense methodism is peak Max. Systematic and entertainingly stubborn.

At the second bed, Max immediately starfishes spread-eagle. “Well? Get over here and test it with me. It’s the only way we’ll know.” He pats the mattress insistently.

You note the salesperson observing this display with thinly veiled disapproval. But Max just looks so irresistibly eager, you can’t help but indulge him.

You crawl onto the bed and cuddle up to him happily. “Mmm, this one’s nice. Great hugability.” You pretend to grab Max in a koala hold.

He laughs. “Agreed, good hugging potential.” Wrapping his arms around you, he shifts experimentally. “But the bounce is all wrong.” He releases you and sits up. “Next!”

And so it goes for the next hour as you enthusiastically demo mattress after mattress with Max. You try them on your backs, sides, fronts, analyzing the firmness levels and motion transfer. At one point you even test out the edge support — whatever that is — with Max insisting you sit together on the very side of the mattress frame.

“Considerable sag here,” Max murmurs against your ear, his arm firmly around your waist. You have to hide your shiver at his warm breath so close. “Could be problematic.”

The salesperson looks like he’s one demo away from throwing you both out. But Max either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He cheerfully drags you from bed to bed, ticking off pros and cons on his fingers.

“Decent lumbar support, but it sleeps too hot.”

“Great responsiveness, but poor motion isolation.”

You’re having the time of your life. Testing mattresses was benign enough, but the excuse to crawl into bed with Max over and over has you both giddy. Each demo seems to involve increasingly creative configurations of your interlocked bodies as you evaluate firmness and ergonomics.

“I’m just not sure this is a good fit,” Max eventually concludes, frowning up at you from where you straddle his hips. His hands rest casually on your thighs, as if finding yourself atop a handsome man in a public place is perfectly routine mattress research.

You smother a laugh and climb off. “Valid analysis. Though some of the testing scenarios still need more data, I’d say.” You shoot him a coy look.

Max grins. “Agreed. Further testing required.”

The salesperson pointedly avoids looking at you both. “Perhaps you’d like to narrow down your top choices? I’m sure you have plenty of notes by now.” There’s a tautness to his professionalism that suggests you’ve stretched his patience to its limit.

But Max seems oblivious. “We’re not done yet! There are still at least half a dozen models we haven’t tried.” He takes your hand, pulling you toward a plush, pillow-topped display. “Now this one looks perfect for spooning. You little spoon first this time ...”

Mattress testing with Max, you’ve learned, is a delightful mix of structured analysis and shameless flirtation. You can’t remember ever having so much fun shopping. And based on Max’s boyish smile and lingering touches, the feeling is mutual.

“Too much dip in the middle,” Max tuts later, rolling you both gently across yet another mattress surface. “Though the close contact isn’t terrible.” His low voice in your ear makes you shiver.

You grin up at him coyly. “We should do an in-depth pressure point analysis next.”

Max smirks. “Crucial data to collect.”

Eventually, however, even Max’s enthusiasm starts to wane. “I think we have sufficient consumer testing results now,” he decides, pulling you up to sit beside him on the edge of a low platform bed.

You laugh. “That poor salesperson was ready to toss us out an hour ago.”

“Hey, we were conducting necessary R&D!” Max’s grey eyes twinkle. “But I am rather tired now ...”

He lies back, resting his head in your lap. You automatically begin stroking his hair and he sighs, eyes slipping closed. You take the opportunity to admire how sweet he looks, lips slightly parted and lashes fanned on his cheeks. Testing mattresses all afternoon seems to have worn him out.

You lean down to murmur in his ear. “Ready to take this mattress research home to really compare notes?”

One grey eye peeks open. “Mmm, home analysis does sound optimal.” His voice is raspy with fatigue in a way that melts you. “Wake me when it’s time to go?”

You brush a soft kiss to his forehead. “Of course.”

He nuzzles into your lap with a contented noise. Watching his breath deepen into sleep, you feel your heart overflow. There are a thousand reasons you adore Max, but these unexpectedly tender moments might top them all.

The salesperson reappears, offering you a pained smile. “So were you able to decide on a mattress today?”

You grin, fingers still carding through Max’s hair. “You know, I think we need to sleep on it a little longer.”

***

“Well, what do you think?” Max gestures with pride around his freshly competed penthouse.

You take it all in — the sleek but cozy furniture, the warm lighting, the pops of color — and smile. “It’s perfect. You have an incredible home now.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, gazing around. “I really couldn’t have done it without you. This place was a disaster before you came along.”

You lean into him happily. It’s been months since you first met Max and began working with him on decorating his new space. It was a battle at times, but you’re immensely proud of the final result.

“I’m honored I could help bring your vision to life,” you say sincerely. Though if you’re honest, the best part of this project was getting to know Max himself. The way his smile makes your heart flutter hasn’t diminished one bit.

Max turns you to face him, his expression soft. “I didn’t just get a beautifully designed home out of this. I got you.”

Your breath catches at the open affection in his eyes. Before you can respond, he dips his head and kisses you tenderly. You melt against him, the feel of his lips erasing any coherent thought.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are darker. “You know, there’s still one part of the place we haven’t officially christened yet.” He cocks his head toward the bedroom.

You bite your lip, pulse already quickening. “Is that so? Well, we should definitely perform a final inspection to confirm everything meets our standards.”

Max grins wolfishly, pulling you toward the bedroom. “Thorough testing is required.”

You laugh as he tugs you down onto the plush king mattress you’d finally agreed on after extensive “research.” The two of you bounce slightly from the momentum, causing you both to dissolve into giggles.

“Well, motion transfer still seems acceptable,” you quip. Max chuckles and silences you with another heated kiss.

You hum approvingly as his hands begin to roam your body. “Mmm, responsiveness is excellent too ...”

Clothes are quickly shed as you reacquaint yourselves with each other’s forms. When you’re finally skin-to-skin, Max sighs in satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting months to get you in this bed.” His voice is low and gravelly in a way that makes you shiver.

“It was the longest mattress testing phase ever,” you breathe as his lips kiss down your neck.

Max laughs against your shoulder. “Worth it though, right?”

In answer, you flip him onto his back, straddling his hips. “Absolutely.”

You take your time exploring each other, hands and mouths worshiping every inch. Until late afternoon sun filters through the curtains, bathing the room in an almost ethereal glow.

When Max finally sinks into you, you moan softly at the exquisite fullness. “Oh yes, this mattress has great ergonomics,” you sigh dreamily.

Max huffs a laugh, his chest vibrating against yours. “I’ll be sure to mention that in my product review.”

You grin and shift your hips experimentally, making him groan. “The responsiveness really is top-notch.”

“We should still test a few more positions though,” Max murmurs. “Just to be thorough.”

You happily comply, indulging in acrobatic mattress testing that leaves you both blissfully satisfied and out of breath. As you lay tangled together afterwards, endorphins still flooding your systems, Max presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Well, I’d say the new bed passes inspection with flying colors,” he declares with sleepy satisfaction.

You laugh and stroke his hair. “Agreed. You chose an excellent mattress.” You snuggle closer. “Though the company in it is what I really enjoy.”

Max tightens his arms around you. “Think you can put up with me and my high-maintenance decor demands a while longer?” His voice holds a vulnerable note beneath the teasing.

Your heart swells and you cup his face. “Max Verstappen, I’ll critique mattresses and furniture with you any day. As long as at the end of it, I get to fall asleep next to you.”

His smile outshines the lowering sun. “Deal.”

***

“You know what I love most about how our place looks now?” Max murmurs, his arms wrapped around you on the couch.

You tear your eyes from the awful reality show you’re watching to glance up at him. “Hmm?”

His gaze sweeps over the living room, a small smile on his lips. “All the little touches that are just so you.”

You follow his look around the penthouse that over the past year has transformed from Max’s bachelor pad to your shared home. It’s still sleek and modern overall, but with warm accents reflecting both your styles.

And yes, you realize, your personal influence shows in the decor now that you live here full time. The mugs hung on hooks in the kitchen, the plush blankets tossed artfully on the chairs, the bowls of sea glass collected from beach walks that adorn the tables.

Your heart swells looking at the traces of yourself woven into Max’s space. “It does feel more like home now, doesn’t it?”

Max nods, dropping a kiss to your hair. “It’s perfect. I love coming back after a race and being surrounded by reminders of you.”

You snuggle deeper into his embrace, incredibly touched. “Well, I promise to keep leaving my clutter around to make you feel at home.”

He chuckles. “Please do. It’s my favorite kind of clutter.”

Smiling softly, you think back to when you first started dating Max after working on his penthouse makeover. Who could have guessed that would lead to sharing this life together?

Your gaze lands on a shelf displaying photos of the two of you, and your throat grows tight. There’s you and Max laughing on vacation, kissing right after he won his fourth world championship, curled up with hot chocolate on a ski trip. So many beautiful memories.

“It’s hard to remember what this place even looked like before,” you murmur. And not just the decor — it’s hard to recall your life before Max.

He rubs your shoulder idly, eyes faraway. “I know what you mean. It’s like you’ve always been here.” His voice holds a note of wonder.

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Max’s eyes shine. He bends to kiss you, soft and heartfelt. Your lips curve against his.

When you reluctantly draw back, the television screen catches your eye. You cringe at the fake drama unfolding.

“Ugh, this show is terrible,” you groan. “Can we watch something else?”

Max grins and grabs the remote, flipping through channels. He eventually lands on a home renovation program you both enjoy analyzing and critiquing together. Some things never change.

You settle in eagerly as the show starts, scrutinizing the design choices. Max wraps an arm around you, idly playing with your hair as you watch.

Despite the show’s flaws, being curled up with Max like this fills you with utter contentment. You can’t imagine anything better than coming home to his smile and laugh each day.

During commercials, you fetch snacks from the kitchen, navigating the space with ease. Max trails behind to steal bites, ever drawn to food.

You swat his hand away from the chocolate you’re preparing and laugh. “Get your paws off, those are for sharing!”

Max just tugs you close and kisses the protest from your lips. You happily let him devour the sweetness from your mouth instead, the chocolate forgotten.

Finally you collapse back on the couch together, munching and critiquing the show’s poor tile work. Max throws popcorn for you to catch, his aim as impressive as his racing lines.

Your eyes droop as the evening wears on. The cozy penthouse, tasty snacks, and Max’s warmth — it’s the perfect recipe for relaxation.

When your head nods against Max’s shoulder for the third time, he chuckles and clicks the tv off. “Alright sleepyhead, time for bed.”

You make a half-hearted noise of protest but let him pull you up. Max keeps an arm securely around you as he leads the way to the bedroom, knowing you’re prone to stumbling when tired. It makes you feel so cared for.

He even helps you change into your nightgown, his hands impossibly gentle. As you finally crawl under the blankets, you let out a massive yawn.

“Night Maxie,” you mumble, already mostly asleep. He gathers you close and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Sweet dreams, liefje.” His voice is impossibly soft. You float away cradled in his warmth and the knowledge you’re home.

The next morning, you wake slowly to sunlight streaming in the windows and the smell of coffee. Stretching languorously, you take a moment just to soak it in.

Muffled sounds drift in from the kitchen signaling Max is already up and at ‘em. You smile sleepily. The man has the energy of a hyper puppy.

Before you can muster the will to leave bed, Max appears holding two mugs. “Morning schatje,” he greets with a smile. “Thought you might need some caffeine.”

You beam and make grabby hands until he passes you a mug. The rich aroma instantly perks you up.

Max slides in next to you, sipping his own coffee. His hair is adorably mussed and you gently smooth it down before cupping his face and bringing him in for a long, thorough good morning kiss.

When you finally separate, Max looks pleasingly dazed. “Well, that’s certainly one way to wake up.”

You grin cheekily and go back to your coffee. Max wraps an arm around you and you lean into his solid warmth, trading occasional lazy kisses between sips.

Sun streams over your entwined forms as you bask in contented silence. Eventually you stretch and make your way to the bathroom to start the day, dropping a kiss to Max’s hair as you pass.

You smile seeing your hairbrush by the sink, pink toothbrush next to Max’s blue one. Such small signs of your merged lives, but they mean the world.

Refreshed, you return to Max sprawled on the bed with his phone. He immediately opens his arms in clear demand for more cuddles. Laughing, you collapse into them happily.

Nuzzling into his chest, you sigh. “I know I was practically unconscious last night, but just wanted to say again how special it is having pieces of us both around the place now.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “You being here makes it a home, not just an apartment.” His voice catches slightly. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your own suddenly misty. No words can encapsulate what it means to build a life and home with this incredible man.

So you tell him silently instead, with a kiss overflowing with love and promise: I’ll stay by your side as long as I’m welcome.

Judging by Max’s arm anchoring you fiercely to him, that will be a good long while. You melt into his embrace, spirits soaring.

No fancy penthouse or perfect decor could compare to what you’ve found with Max — a home rooted in love, laughter, and devotion.

One look at his tender smile and you know he feels it too. This is everything.

So you’ll happily leave your mugs around the sink and blankets on the chairs, weaving threads of yourself into his space. With each passing day, it matters less whose belongings lie where.

Because home isn’t things — it’s the man gazing at you like you’re his whole world. And you know as long as you’re together, any place will feel just right.

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hey! I saw that you’re taking tua requests and after season 4 I’m in desperate need of fluff fanfics. May I request a Five x Y/N where Y/N looks exactly like how Five envisions Delores but they haven’t met yet and right when Five and Lila were about to kiss in the greenhouse, Y/N appears with a gun because this two strangers invaded her greenhouse and Five would be utterly shocked and immediately let go of Lila and went to Y/N calling her Delores and she would say something like “I don’t know who Delores is but the two of you better start explaining what you’re doing in my greenhouse or I’ll bury a bullet in your skulls.” And after that it could be all fluff with a happy ending. Maybe Five takes her to meet his family when he finds a way back?

a/n: thank you for your lovely request! the idea of reader as a dolores variant is so sweet, i just had to write this! i hope you love it!!

summary: five mistakes you for dolores, you turn out to be quite the opposite

warnings: reader has a gun😟

word count: 2.4k

Trying to traverse this damn subway was driving Five insane. If he had been keeping track accurately, he and Lila had been stuck down here for seven years. For someone that had made it through forty years alone at the end of the world, you’d think that he’d be able to hack it, but a couple of key factors had changed since his first time around.

1. This time he wasn’t alone.

When he’d brought Lila down to the station, the thought of getting stuck there hadn’t even crossed his mind. Every other time Five had visited the subway, he’d made it home with no problems whatsoever.

It was typical that when he was accompanied by the one woman he’d never want to be around for a prolonged amount of time, that the universe would screw him over and trap them there.

He did have to admit, the more time that they had spent together, and the less likely getting home seemed, Lila had become tolerable. He might even go as far as to say he liked her now.

She was smarter than he’d given her credit for and painfully determined in working out their way home. Lila had always kept them both going, insisting that if they’d gotten there in the first place that there had to be a way out. Five wasn’t so sure anymore.

2. Dolores wasn’t here.

Whilst Five could pretend that if he stopped looking for a way out and settled down with Lila in a new timeline he would be happy enough, he knew that in reality, he wouldn’t be. There was no way that his friendship with Lila would ever measure up to the company of Dolores and the love he had for her.

She had been his everything for more of his life than not and his connection with her had truly meant something to him. Unlike whatever circunstancial friendship he had built with Lila.

For a long time, Five’s daily routine had revolved entirely around making sure that Dolores was cared for and making sure that they were always one step closer to finding a better way of life. Because he would be damned if his girlfriend had to live a life with anything but the very best.

This time, without the motivation of holding Dolores in his arms at the end of a long day, Five had found little reason to keep searching for a way to get home. He was beginning to lose all hope entirely as he and Lila had got off the subway for the fiftieth time that day.

As they stepped out into the sun, it became clear that of all the timelines they’d been to, this one was, without a doubt, the most peaceful. They were surrounded by woodland that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Somewhere above their heads Five could hear birds twittering. That was a good sign, this timeline was still habitable, many of the last ones hadn’t been.

Five walked out into forest. The trees there shot up almost 70 feet into the sky. It was breathtaking.

Somewhere along his stroll, Lila, had ended up off course, discovering the new world around them, “Wow.” She whispered to herself.

Five chuckled and raised an eyebrow as he walked towards her, “If you’re done here, there’s something much more interesting that we ought to take a look at.”

He pointed to the bottom of the hill that they stood on, where a small cottage sat. It looked as if it came from a fairytale, with its thatched roof and adjacent greenhouse, that housed all sorts of plants and flowers.

A small seed of doubt planted itself in his head the more he looked it over. It looked too nice. What if it was some sort of trap?

Lila clearly didn’t have the same trepidations. She gasped with excitement, then turned back to him, saying, “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”

As suspicious as he now was, he wasn’t strong enough to crush Lila’s hopeful expression. He hadn’t seen her look this spritely in weeks and if this didn’t end up being what they wanted he needed her to be okay to keep going. So, he followed her down the hill.

By the time he’d reached the bottom, Lila was already waiting, hands on her hips as she laughed at him, “Come on, old man, what is taking you so long? I want to explore this cottage before someone comes and tells me that I’m imagining it.”

She reached out, pulling on his arm impatiently and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. He supposed he could entertain this fantasy of normality for a while.

Lila grinned as she led them up the steps, peering in through the glass at the throng of shrubbery packed into the building. With a tug on the door, Lila led them into the greenhouse.

Five had to appreciate the organisation of it. One corner of it hosted a mix of plants and herbs, another held flowers, another for vegetables as well and even one for- “Strawberries!” Lila gasped, dropping his arm and rushing over to them.

In that moment, there couldn’t have been a better sight in the world than home-grown fruit. It’d been a painfully long time since they’d last eaten real food and Five suddenly felt starving.

He watched as Lila picked a strawberry, taking a bite. She groaned in pleasure, closing her eyes. Mouth still full, she beckoned him closer, “Five, come here, you have got to try these.”

Five obeyed, walking over to her. Lila took another enthusiastic bite, as she declared, “I think these might be the best things that I’ve ever eaten.”

Tossing the hull of the strawberry behind her, Lila reached for another. She smirked at Five, waving the strawberry in front of his lips tauntingly, “Open up.”

Five rolled his eyes, trying to repress the smile that was creeping onto his lips as he relented, opening his mouth. Lila pressed the strawberry to his lips and as he bit down…

Click.

Five froze, eyes snapping open. Lila spun around and her lips parted in shock as she took you in. There, you stood, shotgun cocked and pointed at the pair of them.

You were a sight for sore eyes, with your tousled hair around your shoulders and polka dot dress that fell effortlessly around your hips. Five was completely mesmerised.

Your soft hair, the polka dots that covered your dress, it was all so familiar to him. Your presence felt like a greeting from an old friend and he smiled lovingly at you as he said, “Dolores.”

Lila’s presence was entirely forgotten as you stood in front of him, just as beautiful as he’d remembered. Lila raised an eyebrow, asking, “You know her?” at the same time as you asked, “Dolores?!”

You looked them both in the eye, stepping closer and aiming the barrel of the gun at their heads, “I don’t know who Dolores is but the two of you better start explaining before I shoot you both.”

You had to admit, you were slightly intrigued by the appearance of the two of them. More specifically, the man in front of you. Even more so when he audibly laughed at your words.

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking with amusement as you said, “You do realise that you’re trespassing, right? That I’m well within my rights to pull this trigger and put a bullet through both of your skulls?”

Five was still looking at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars and not just threatened to shoot him.

Lila shoved her elbow into his chest and he groaned, clutching it, “Jesus… Lila!” He said, glaring at her.

“What?” Lila groaned, looking over at him with a huff, “She asked you a question.”

“Yes, thank you.” You said with a small nod as you watched her. She nodded back with a pleased smile, holding her hands behind her back.

You look back at Five, expectantly, gun still raised, “Well?”

He smiled saccharinely at you, being sure to emphasise his words as he said, “Me and my friend here just got a little lost, that’s all.”

“Hm… getting lost is what we’re calling breaking and entering now?” You challenge and your combative demeanour only made Five want to get to know you more.

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders innocently, “It would appear that way.” He said, making it impossible for you to ignore the cockiness in his tone.

You simply laughed at him, lowering your weapon slightly, “And Dolores?”

“She’s…” He paused, thinking it through. He couldn’t exactly say who Dolores really was, you’d think he was crazy and that was the last thing he wanted.

If he ignored the fact that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he could also tell that you were exactly the kind of woman he wanted to know and he was not going to mess up any chance he might have with you, “…my ex-girlfriend.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue, he thought to himself. Lila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Slowly, a look of realisation spread across her face and she stifled her laughter as she asked, “Hold on, you don’t mean that manne-“

“Please, excuse my friend.” He hastily cut Lila off with an infuriated glare thrown in her direction.

“She has terrible conversational etiquette.” Five offered, smiling politely at you as if he hadn’t just completely shut Lila down, “I’m Five, and that over there is Lila.”

You nodded in return. Lila smiled but made no more attempts to initiate a conversation as she wandered off deeper into the green house.

Five, happy to have the chance to speak you alone, stepped closer, “It’s a nice place.” He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

You lowered your gun, slinging it over your shoulder and offering him a warmer smile, “Thanks, I think so too.”

You were funny. He felt himself grow more smitten with every word you said. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, raising an eyebrow at you, “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.” You answer, brushing off your skirt. His eyes followed your fingers as you did.

You walked by him to pick up a bag of compost and dropped it onto the countertop beside you. Five walked after you, placing a hand on the table in your eyeline, practically begging you to keep the conversation going.

The last time he’d gotten so quickly attached to a girl, he’d been with her for forty years and he was already thinking about what that might look like with you, “Are you going to tell me it?” He pushed, tilting his head to the side as he smiled at you.

You stopped breaking up the soil, laughing softly as you looked over your shoulder at him, “You know, you’re very interested in knowing about me for someone I just caught breaking into my house.”

“I thought we’d agreed that we were just lost? I can confidently say that there was no ill intent on my part.” He replies, smirking at you.

“Maybe not.” You say, smacking your palms against each other to dust them off, “But there is intent of some kind.” You bend down, pulling out an empty plant pot from below the counter.

“True…” Five hummed, tapping his finger on the counter as he watched you place the pot onto the table and begin to fill it with compost.

He looks around the room some more - noticing the lone chair and table in the observatory by the back door, “You live here alone?”

He asked, watching your nimble fingers form a well in the centre of the pot. He looked over his shoulder to where Lila was prodding a venus flytrap and then back to you for your answer.

“I do.” You reply as your fingers continue to press deeper into the soil. Five nodded, rolling his sleeves up and leaning them on the countertop with a sly smile.

You dust off your hands again and go back to kneeling on the floor. Five watches with interest as you sift through pots and packets of different flowers.

“Okay and why is that?” He asks, bending down beside you as you consider which flower to pot.

You look over at him and notice how his eyes lingers on the bright, yellow marigolds tucked away to the left. You take them out.

“Because…” You say, hauling the smaller pot onto the counter again, “I’ve never been much of a people person.”

“Hence why you live in the middle of the woods.” Five nods along, smiling to himself. He was beginning to get an idea of what kind of girl you were and he liked it.

“Exactly.” You nod, gently prying the marigolds from their original pot and settling them into the divet in their new one.

You scooped some compost into your hands, sprinkling the marigold with an extra layer of dirt, “That’s me, but what about you? What makes a guy like you take a wander in the woods?”

A guy like him? Five glanced down at himself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of his dirtied appearance. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in a while but he couldn’t imagine that seven years without a shower had done him any good.

Then again, your arms were buried elbow deep in dirt right now, so he figured he couldn’t look that awful, “It’s a long story but… simply put, my friend and I are looking for a place to stay.”

“I see.” You hum, touching up the marigolds. You pull open a drawer, taking out some pruners and making tiny adjustments to the flowers.

Five appreciated the precision with which you worked on them, he imagined that you treated all of your plants with the same amount of time and care. He was beginning to feel a little jealous of them.

You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him, “So, you just thought that you’d crash here?”

Five looked slightly embarrassed as he stood up straighter, searching for the right answer. Lila smiled, yelling from the other side of the room, “Yeah, pretty much. It’s a really nice place.”

You laugh at her bluntness, placing down your pruners and dusting off your hands again, “Good to know.”

Five chuckles and looks back down at the counter. Taking in the sight of the finished marigolds, sitting plump and pretty in their new home, he smiles, “They’re beautiful.”

“Consider them a welcome gift for the two of you.” You say, pushing the pot towards him. Then, you wink, walking past him and back into the house.

Five is rendered speechless.

[shy-writer-999]

OP Headcanons: Ace & Law on the phone

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: How would Ace & Law act during a spicy session on the phone? (+ written description of what they’d say to afab reader) See Part 1 with the Monster Trio!

OP Headcanons: Ace & Law on the phone

Law: The Instructor

Sometimes Law calls you first, and sometimes you call him. You’re both a fan of phone sex because of how much teasing there is. Law loves telling you what to do. He’s in control, and he knows you’re going to follow his instructions exactly. Law wants to know how it feels when you finger yourself and rub your clit—he’ll ask you all sorts of questions and press you for longer descriptions, making you speak clearer through your moans. For him, the appeal is not only in helping you feel good, but also in envisioning you tensed up and wet, fingering yourself at the thought of him.

Law prefers to sit upright in a chair when you’re getting nasty over the phone. He’ll hold off on touching himself until he physically can’t anymore. Law gets off on the image of you pleasuring yourself to his commands, and he gets more worked up as your moans get increasingly desperate. When you don’t follow his instructions, Law gets annoyed, scornful, and cold. But really, he loves it when you get bratty (even though he won’t say it). Law’s voice is smooth and deep, making fire bloom in your core as soon as you hear him on the other line. When Law is instructing you over the phone, these are some of the things he says:

“I want you to touch yourself over your panties. Play with your clit, rub small circles around it.” “Are you doing what I said?” “Use your words.” “Keep going until you’re so wet it starts seeping through the fabric.” “Now, pull your panties off, prop your knees up, and spread your thighs.” “Do you want to touch yourself?” “Slide two of your fingers up and down through your lips, and when you’re done, insert one. Slowly.” “What does it feel like?” “I need you to say more than that.” “Curl your finger inside of you and then take it out. I said take it out.” “Do you want to keep going? Tell me how much you want it.” “I know you want it, but you have to follow my instructions. Doctor’s orders.” “Put another finger in and start fucking yourself with it. Tell me if it feels good.” “Say my name.” “Keep going. Don’t stop until I say so. Don’t cum either. I want to hear you beg for it.” “Do you like touching yourself to the thought of me?” “Wish your lips were wrapped around my cock?” “Fuck yourself with your fingers so hard that you cream thinking about me.”

Law spreads his own precum around his tip and down his cock, hissing through his teeth at the feeling of the lubrication, imagining for a second that he’s thrusting inside of you and dragging his cock in and out. He’s letting out guttural, filthy sounds. He needs to hear you moan his name one more time before he loses it. When Law cums during phone sex, he shoots ropes of milky white all over his abdomen. His hair is matted down on his forehead in sweat and he’s panting. Law loves to think of you following his instructions, he thinks of it like he’s helping you feel your best. When he tells you what to do, he knows that he’ll make you feel good. The next time Law sees you he acts like nothing happened, until he unexpectedly grabs your ass when he walks past you. He’s got the slightest smirk on his lips.

Ace: The Sweet Talker

Note: She/her pronoun used for reader once, also "pretty girl," etc.

Usually, you tend to be the one to call Ace first—but sometimes he calls you first and his voice is so sweet it sounds sugar coated. When you’re feeling lonely and heat is blooming between your legs, you know Ace will gladly help you out, and you’ll do the same for him. It doesn’t take him long to get completely wrapped up in the fantasy. Ace will drop everything he’s doing to get you off over the phone; he’ll do it just as enthusiastically if he has to step away to the bathroom or wake up in the middle of the night from your call. Hearing your needy voice on the other line gets him hard in seconds—he anticipates the sounds of your desperation and looks forward to using his honeyed voice to praise you. Ace wants you to moan his name, but more than that, he wants you to put your phone up to your cunt when you finger it, so he can hear how messy and wet you are for him. Ace has always been fond of pet names, and when you’re on the phone with your fingers inside of yourself, he doubles down. He knows you like it when he sweet talks you, and for him, it’s a way of showing his love. When Ace is saying lovely things to you during phone sex, these are some of the things he says:

“I want to hear you touch yourself for me, okay princess?” “Mmmmmm, that sounds good, sweetheart.” “Pretty girl with her fingers stuffed in her pussy just for me” “Hold the phone up to your fingers, baby, I want to hear how wet you are” “Good job sugar, keep going, just like that. You’re doing such a good job.” “Does it feel good, beautiful?” “Tell me how good it feels” “Getting so hard thinking about you touching yourself for me, baby” “I know you want my cock, but for now you’ll just have to fuck yourself with your fingers for me, ok?” “Reach deep inside and find your sweet spot, I want to hear it” “Press on your clit while you think about me, angel, I want to hear it” “Doing such a good job for me” “Wish I could fuck you right now” “I want you to cum. Say my name, gorgeous” “Keep pressing on that spot until you cum, baby, I wanna hear you moan my name as sweet as you can” “Just like that. Good job, sweetheart.”

After you cum, Ace always says thank you. He doesn’t need to, but he thinks it’s the polite thing to do since you’ve been so vulnerable with him and so good for him.

(◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ (´ω｀*)

thank u so much for reading!! here's my masterlist!

also i have an idea for another fic, what do you think? reader means to call one one of the OP men for phone sex, but accidentally dials someone else. He’s surprised but goes along with it happily. (thinking of Sanji, Ace, Zoro, and Law, here…) Would anyone be interested in that…

TYSM!!

-Z

[dixons-sunshine]

Private Space | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Moving into your first apartment with your long-term boyfriend seemed like a dream come true. It wasn’t the most fancy apartment, but it was the first space that was truly only yours and Daryl’s. And Daryl was excited to finally be able to have some much deserved privacy with you—without the risk of others walking in.

Genre: Smut.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of Daryl's scars, oral (f receiving), allusions to piv.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: I genuinely suck at writing smut, but this request won the poll, so I toughed it out lol. I hope this is somewhat enjoyable!

“Alright,” Daryl began whilst putting the box down on the ground in the small living room of your new apartment. He dusted off his hands before turning to look at you. “That’s the last of it.

You smiled at him and looked around the apartment—your apartment—with a look of awe. The small space certainly wasn’t what most people would fancy as a living space, but that didn’t matter to you. It was the first place that was truly only yours and Daryl’s, and you cherished it with your whole being. The two of you would figure out how to make it look prettier on another today. At that moment, however, you’d just bask in the fact that the two of you were finally able to be independent.

“This is great,” you told him, a contented smile on your face.

Daryl hummed and sent you a small smile of his own. “Yeah, s’good.” He looked around the small space as well, trying to envision what you saw when you looked at it, but failing to do so. “I mean, it ain’t much. Ain’t exactly pretty, but s’somethin’, right?”

You took a step towards him and looped your arms around his neck, Daryl’s hands going to rest on your hips. “It’s perfect, Dar. It’s ours. I can’t ask for more than that.” You rested your forehead against his, letting out a small sigh. “I love my mom, but I’m happy I finally moved out. And I moved in with you, into our own apartment. I don’t need more than that.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Yer amazin’, ya know that?”

“I know,” you joked, before leaning up to close the gap between your lips, softly kissing him.

Daryl hummed into the tender kiss. However, it soon escalated. His tongue lightly swept over your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. You allowed him to do so, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the warmth of your mouth with his vocal muscle. In an unexpected move for you, Daryl picked you up, eliciting a small squeal of surprise from you. Daryl chuckled as he walked forward towards the couch, carefully laying you down on the plush surface.

“More than okay.” For added emphasis, you pulled him down for a deep kiss. Daryl’s hesitation evaporated into thin air, and he quickly moved to hover over you.

“This okay?” Daryl asked you, giving you an out if you didn’t want to do what he was initiating. Daryl was amazing like that, always making sure you were comfortable before doing anything. You loved him for that.

That is what Daryl wanted. To be able to do that with you without anyone walking in. It took a couple of years, but the two of you could finally do that without the risk of your mom making herself known. That made Daryl extremely excited. Somewhere along the lines of the two of you heavily making out, Daryl’s shirt got removed. He was vaguely aware of his scars that were on full display, but he quickly forced that from his mind. He wouldn’t ruin this moment for you because of his insecurities. He did that once, but never again.

You eagerly reached down to start unbuckling his pants, but Daryl caught your hands before you could. You let out a small whine in protest, but Daryl only chuckled. “We can get to that later, Princess. Lemme take care’a ya first, yeah?” To further prove his point, he slowly and carefully started inching your shirt up, slowly revealing your skin to his gaze. However, your patience was wearing thin, so you grabbed the hem of your shirt and quickly helped tug it over your head. “Someone’s eager, huh?”

“Less talking, please,” you practically begged him, your eyes looking at him in a silent plea for more.

Daryl smirked. “As ya wish, Sunshine.” Daryl pressed another kiss to your lips, before trailing down jaw, your collarbone, your chest, down your stomach and stopped just above your pants. He looked up at you once more, silently asking for permission. When you nodded, he resumed with his task. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses to your stomach before eagerly tugging your pants down, successfully taking your panties with it. You helped him get rid of your clothes, carelessly discarding it somewhere on the floor.

Daryl quickly got to work. He placed a few kisses around where you needed him most, wanting to draw out the inevitable. However, when you bucked your hips up against his face and whined your plea for him to stop teasing, he couldn’t resist any longer. He delved face first into it, licking a long stripe up from your core all the way to your clit.

Your body jolted in pleasure. You threw your head back and tightly gripped at the couch, hoping to ground yourself back to reality. However, when Daryl repeated the action and let his tongue slip into your aching core, that attempt proved to be futile.

“Daryl! Oh, fuck!” you moaned out, your hips unconsciously bucking up against his face. Daryl groaned and pinned your hips down to the couch. He could feel himself getting painfully hard in his jeans, but he tried to ignore it. His attention was solely on you. He could take care of his own needs later.

He switched his tongue out for two of his fingers. His fingers started pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, his tongue instead moving to lap and suck on your clit. The moans you were letting out were downright sinful, and the sweet sounds you were emitting worked straight into his arousal. His dick was painfully straining against his jeans, just begging to be released.

“Daryl, f-fuck!” you cried out. You were seeing stars, Daryl’s fingers hitting that one spot inside you each time. The feeling was overwhelming, but so good at the same time. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, and it was clear that you were about to go over the edge. “I’m so—I’m clo—” You could barely get the words out before you came undone.

Daryl groaned again and pulled his fingers out of you, instead opting to lick up all of the juices your body spilled out. He licked and sucked until you twisted your body to the side as a way to tell him you were oversensitive. Daryl slowly moved to hover over you again, leaning down to kiss you. You moaned at the taste of your arousal in his mouth, your hands moving up to his hair and lightly tugging, eliciting a small whine from him. You smirked against his lips before gently pushing him off, guiding him to lay back on the other end of the couch while you climbed on top of him.

Your hands moved to start unbuckling his jeans. “Your turn now.”

Daryl definitely liked the sound of that. And as you pulled his jeans and then his boxers from his body, gently taking his cock into your hand and lowering yourself onto it, he couldn’t help but let out a small whine. He was immensely grateful for the fact that the two of you moved into your own place, because he was sure that neither of you would be able to keep quiet for long.

And as you fully sunk down onto him and the both of you let out a moan, his theory was proven to be correct.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Harry holding his bubba for the first time. 🥹

Daddy’s Little Girl.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - when i said i wanted to write something cutesy, this was exactly what i envisioned so thanks to the anon that suggested this. 😊

word count - 1.1k

in which, harry holding his baby for the first time is everything he had wished for and more.

“Would dad like to have a hold?”

The room is filled with a quiet, serene energy, a sense of calm and exhaustion mingling with the first light of dawn seeping through the hospital blinds.

You lie back against the pillows, still catching your breath, the surreal experience of childbirth washing over you in waves.

Harry is by your side, holding your hand with a mixture of awe and concern in his eyes.

The midwife stands nearby, cradling your baby girl.

Harry glances at you, his eyes wide and uncertain. He swallows hard, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "I, uh, I don’t know. I've never done this before."

You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"Neither have I," you say softly, a touch of humor in your voice. "But she's our little girl. You'll be great."

He nods slowly, his hesitation still evident. The midwife suggests he take his shirt off for skin-to-skin contact, explaining how important it is for bonding.

He releases your hand reluctantly and stands up, the nerves showing in his every movement.

Harry pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest, and takes a deep breath. He glances at you one more time, and you see the determination set in his eyes.

He walks over to the sofa in the corner of the room, sitting down carefully, his muscles tense.

The first rays of the sun are starting to paint the room in a soft, golden light. It feels like the beginning of a new day, a new chapter. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

You watch as the midwife brings your daughter closer to him. You can see the fear and excitement battling within him, but there's also a deep, overwhelming love that you recognize all too well. It’s the same feeling you've been enveloped in since the moment you saw her.

The midwife smiles at Harry, recognizing his nervousness.

"It's okay, Mr. Styles. I'll guide you," she reassures him. "Just relax and take a deep breath."

Harry nods, taking a steadying breath as she positions herself beside him, your baby girl nestled in her arms.

"Support her head with one hand," she instructs, "and use your other arm to cradle her body."

Harry follows her guidance, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out. The midwife gently transfers your daughter into his arms, helping him adjust his hold until she is securely nestled against his chest.

You can see the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he looks down at her tiny, perfect face.

"See?" the midwife says softly. "You're doing great. Just keep her close, and she'll feel your warmth and heartbeat."

Harry looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of tears and amazement.

"She's so small," he whispers, as if afraid to speak too loudly and break the spell of the moment.

"She is," you reply, your voice choked with emotion. "But she's perfect."

He leans back against the sofa, holding your daughter close, his eyes never leaving her face.

The early morning light casts a soft glow around them, making the moment feel almost magical.

"Hey, little one," Harry murmurs, his voice tender and filled with wonder.

You feel your heart swell with love as you watch them together, the bond between father and daughter already forming in these first precious moments. Harry's initial hesitation has melted away, replaced by a profound sense of connection and protectiveness.

The midwife steps back, giving you both space to absorb the beauty of this moment.

"I'll give you some time alone," she says quietly, slipping out of the room with a gentle smile.

As the door closes softly behind the midwife, the room settles into a peaceful quiet, the only sound the gentle breathing of your newborn daughter nestled against Harry’s chest.

Harry looks down at your baby girl, his eyes brimming with tears that reflect the deep emotions surging within him. He gently adjusts his hold on her, making sure her tiny head is supported securely. His fingers brush lightly over her soft, downy hair, his touch feather-light and full of wonder.

"Hey there, pickle," he begins, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's Daddy. I've been waiting to meet you for so long."

A tear rolls down his cheek, but he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, he continues, his gaze never leaving her tiny face. "You know, when I first found out about you, I was scared. I didn’t know if I could be a good dad. But the moment I saw you, all of that fear just disappeared."

He pauses, taking a shaky breath, his eyes glistening. "You’re so beautiful, so perfect. I can't believe you're finally here. Your mum and I, we’ve dreamed about this moment for so long. And now, looking at you, I realise that all those dreams couldn’t come close to how amazing you really are."

Another tear slips down his face, and he chuckles softly, his smile radiant despite the tears. "I promise you, little one, I’ll always be here for you. To protect you, to guide you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve already made my world a better place just by being in it."

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his tears mingling with the softness of her skin. "We’re going to have so many adventures together, you and me. And I can’t wait to show you all the wonders of this world. But for now, just rest, my love. We’ve got all the time in the world."

You watch, your own tears flowing freely, as Harry continues to speak softly to your daughter, his voice a soothing melody of promises and dreams. The love and devotion in his words wrap around you both, creating a cocoon of warmth and security.

"And always remember," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "no matter what, you’ll always be loved. By me, by your mum, by everyone lucky enough to know you. Welcome to the world, my precious girl. We’ve been waiting for you, and we love you more than you’ll ever know."

Harry looks up at you again, a tear escaping down his cheek.

"Thank you," he says softly, his voice breaking. "For her. For everything."

You had your own tears rolling down your cheeks at this point, the emotions of childbirth and seeing the love of your life hold your brand new bundle of joy was enough to have you sobbing.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.” You smiled at him softly.

“What can i say,” He bit his bottom lip to stop more tears. “She’s daddy’s little girl.”

[chalametluvrz]

dating timothee chalamet

timothee x afab!reader (mainly gn! expect on nsfw bits)

towards the start of the relationship, i think he'd be pretty anxious

he'd often find himself messing around with his hands a lot on dates

or stumbling over his words a little too much with a small giggle

if you've ever seen old interviews of him when he was younger. you know the ones where he gets all shy and giggly? that's exactly how i envision him to be with you

after some time, that's slowly replaced with his hyperactive ass

and let me tell you, boy never shuts the fuck up that's not a bad thing

because of his schedule, he rarely gets to see you in person

so whenever he does, he just has so much to tell you and so much to talk about that he just ends up coming out with a cluster-fuck of words

he always tries to facetime you at least a couple times a week

and let me tell you, the call will always start with him saying 'oh, i missed your pretty face' or 'seeing you has made my day'

boy is madly in love

and even though he hasn't said it yet, it's fairly obvious he's not hiding anything

he's the kind of person to want to keep your relationship on the down low

because if you're also famous, he wouldn't want to cause any issues or drama through tabloids

and if you aren't, he'd feel awful dragging you into the world of hollywood

eventually though, as most celeb relationships do, you got found out

someone caught you out on your 6 months anniversary

and that was it; twitter was going mental

timothee soon figured out that he probably had to say something

but honestly, he was kind of relieved he didn't have to hide you anymore

the morning you two woke up and saw yourselves going viral on twitter, there was a bit of a mad scramble between the two of you

before eventually, timothee chilled out

'but now i don't need to hide we're together, anymore. i can let the world know you're mine.' he'd say to your confusion at his relaxed state

cute but also now all of timmy's fans are stalking your instagram

cooking meals together!!!

i have a feeling timothee's love languages are more tailored towards physical touch and acts of service tell me im wrong

so cooking together is such a beautiful thing for him

as much as timothee loves taking you out, i think he'd much prefer to cook a fancy pasta dish together with wine over that any day

he also strikes me as a cosy movie date guy

but honestly, it more than likely turns into something else

don't fight me on his, he's a horny guy

like bro would get a hard-on just snuggling with you

when you first started dating, he'd get all shy about it

he'd apologise frantically and his face would be redder than ever

after dating for some time, he'd be less phased

unless you showed and expressed discomfort with it of course

after the shock of you dating slowly weaved out of the fans

timothee would definitely start posting you on his instagram

he just needed the world to know how obsessed he is with you

arguments are rare

extremely rare

they usually only happen when timothee is stressed

feelings get heated and you end up making some snippy comments at each other before one of you gets up and leaves the room

after you've both had time to cool down, you're both mature enough to talk it out and apologise for whatever each of you or one of you has done

communication is a big thing for timmy, so i think arguments are heavily avoided because he encourages you to come to him about anything

any concerns, rants and problems you have, he wants to know

he's a flirter, let me tell you that thankfully not with others

always dazzling you with compliments

you're in the crowd at a press tour? he's staring, smirking and winking at you the whole time

you're supporting him whilst he's on set? the man can't take his eyes off you and is coming to hold you the second the shot is taken

you're on facetime? every odd sentence is him saying some suggestive comment or simply how stunning you are

the man cannot get enough of you

going back to the horny thing...

he has a high sex drive

there's absolutely no doubt about it

he is a giver!!! the man aims to please!!!

could eat you out for days

i've already made a headcanon about him eating you out so i will be brief BUT!!!

he's messy!!! the wetter the better!!!

will overstimulate you with hid tongue any day

and then make sure you cum on his cock as well

you know what they say about tall, skinny boys? wink wink

i'd say he's a good 7 inches, 7 1/2 at a push

he knows how to please you, and he's eager to learn what makes you tick

even though he's mainly a dom, i can see him being a sub at times

only on rare assurances though

being his date to things like the met gala, oscars etc

after being open about your relationship, he couldn't wait to take you everywhere and anywhere with him

loves it when you wear his clothes

but i feel like all boys do?

especially when he's away, opening up a facetime call to see you sat there in one of his t-shirts. he actually thinks his heart might implode.

this boy will actually love you with his whole heart

the cutest, softest and proudest boyfriend around fr

[grievedeeply]

I really love your first kiss hcs with dammon and rolan request! Can I request first kiss hcs with Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Zevlor?

sorry these are short! i didn't want to be too repetitive with them but i hope you enjoy anyways and thanks for the request! (and sorry this took forever to do lol)

gn!reader/tav | no tws

first kiss hcs with astarion, gale, wyll, halsin and zevlor

astarion

kisses aren't a big deal for him most of the time. he doesn't think of them as anything more than something you do with someone else. he'd done it plenty of times.. but not with someone like you

he really feels something for you, something real and genuine. he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare him, but it's just the truth

he wants his first kiss with you to be meaningful

it's not going to be in some sort of grand setting. it's probably in the middle of the woods somewhere and completely unplanned, too

but that's the beauty of it. a kiss so in the moment it comes naturally to the two of you. it's soft and gentle and warm.. things astarion isn't used to in kisses

he's used to fervor— intense moments that aren't exactly intimate. but this.. this is something special and it's beautiful. he doesn't ever want it to end, but it does, eventually.

but that's alright, because he'll start it all over again

gale

kisses have always been something intimate in his eyes, and he doesn't give them away lightly

he has to feel really genuine about someone for him to even think about wanting to kiss them, and he feels that way towards you rather quickly

you're kind and understanding, helpful and compassionate. all amazing qualities and when added to your incredible personality.. you are someone he sees himself having something real with

he'll take you on a date first. it's nothing fancy but it is special to both of you. it's probably a picnic under the stars.. somewhere where it can be just the two of you alone

he'll caress your face and stare into your eyes before he kisses you, making it very clear on what he wants before actually doing it

it's a sweet kiss, short but filled with everything he wants to say. he doesn't make a big deal about it in front of you, but he does have a giddy smile on his lips for the rest of the night

wyll

similarly to gale, he believes kisses are something special— something intimate

he wants his first kiss with you to be perfect. he'll probably have the entire day planned out. a nice dinner or a picnic or something similar, and spending the evening under the stars

in truth, your first kiss with him is far from planned and happened solely because it felt right

even if he wants it to be perfect, he's probably the one initiating it. he just saw you and couldn't resist

while it's not the scenario he pictured in his mind, he doesn't care. any moment shared with you is perfect and one he wants to enjoy for all it is

it's not what he envisioned, but it's perfect because he shared it with you

halsin

also wants his first kiss to be perfect in some aspects, but he's more focused on the special part of it than anything else

he's with you. does the moment feel right? does it look like you're into whatever situation you might be in with him?

he's definitely going to whisper, "can i kiss you?" while looking hopelessly into your eyes like a man so deeply in love the only thing he can think of is you

the kiss is lovely and everything he wanted it to be because it was with you. you could be completely inexperienced and he wouldn't care, or the opposite, solely because it was with you

halsin is very sweet and very open about his feelings on things, so he'll be letting you know how nice the kiss was

i think he's probably had a few first kisses with other people in the past, but none of them even come close to the moment he shares with you

zevlor

zevlor has to get over his anxieties first to be able to accept how much he wants to kiss you

assuming that he's older than you, he has to talk himself out of not liking you because of his age, even if you make it very clear that you like him in that way

when he finally jumps over that hurdle, kissing you is all he can think about whenever he's around you until the exact moment it happens

definitely very impromptu. wasn't planned at all and he completely kissed you on impulse because it felt right and because he would back out later on

it's special to him and means a lot when you don't pull away. the man is so anxious.....

he thinks about it a lot. it might not have been the ideal place but it was perfect because the kiss makes him realize just how much you like him

it makes him feel good, honestly <3

[zriasstuff]

Underwater fun-Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader smut

Warnings: 18+ mature fanfic, includes sexual activities (him pleasuring you in public)

“What do you think you’re doing”, you whisper to Mattheo while both of you are standing in the black lake, seemingly just chatting in the water. The cold water went all the way up to your collarbones, so much that you could still stand, but not very securely. It made you feel a little wobbly on your feet.

You had asked Mattheo that question because you felt his knee creeping up higher, almost touching your lower private area now. His leg fit perfectly between both of yours.

“Matty, whatever it is that you got planned-”

“Just enjoy the water, won’t you”, he responds teasingly, interrupting you mid sentence.

His smirk indicated to you that you were about to enjoy a lot more than just the apparent water. You gradually realized that he had envisioned something very risky in his mind.

Mattheo’s knee between your legs was now placed so perfectly, that whenever you even moved in the slightest, your cunt would automatically rub against it. He even held you tightly by your waist, so that you couldn’t get away from him.

It was surely his intention, for you to get loose, to get you all riled up. Aware of the rather public situation, you spin around to make sure no one was watching.

“Don’t be shy darling, no one is watching”, he baits you once again, not even hiding his desire for you to get off on him. When you wouldn’t indulge, he props his knee even further up, making it directly touch your cunt.

Without it being your intention, one shift of your position suddenly made you feel a wave of brain melting pleasure. The strong pressure on your clit started to feel a little too good. It felt nasty to practically grind against his hard knee, like some touch starved, pathetic slut.

But the more you rubbed against him, the needier you got, feeling yourself get wetter in the process.

“Enjoy yourself princess?”, he cockily asks. He knows exactly that within seconds you’d be begging for him to make you cum.

Mattheo had always had this persuasive aura around him. Whatever he set his mind to, he would achieve. Of course he knew your limits, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t push them a little for fun.

“Please Mattheo, want more”, you moan quietly, while desperately aching for more friction to please your throbbing cunt. You never imagined it’d feel so good to grind on his knee, so good that it turned your cunt into such a wet mess.

He somehow always managed to get you craving his touch, whether it was his cock, fingers, or even knee now.

“Well, since you asked so nicely”, he granted you your wish, and within seconds his knee was replaced by his hand. Wasting no time, he smoothly slid two fingers inside you. Your soaking wetness had allowed him easy and quick penetration, and he felt your cunt sucking him in with its tightness.

“Look how wet my princess is”, he coos, “I told you you’d have fun”. That cocky look on his face was provoking all the more impure thoughts. You imagined what it would be like if there were no people around. How he could then fuck you in the water, have you get high on his cock. You wish everyone would just magically disappear.

The way his fingers stretched your aching cunt wide open almost made you reach your climax right then right there. They kept exploring your walls from every possible angle, brushing against every spot. His thumb additionally circled your clit to create even more simulation, so much you couldn’t hold in the sinful moans that escaped your mouth anymore.

You’d gotten used to how good Mattheo was with his fingers ever since you started dating, but this time, the possibility of being caught made it all so much more exciting. That meant you’d really have to try to not draw everyone’s attention on your public sexual cadaver.

“Can’t even keep your mouth shut anymore huh”, Mattheo points out. You bit down hard on your lip and tried to keep a neutral face to not raise any suspicions.

Knowing that he had such a delicious effect on you, he tried all the more to get you cracking and get caught. It didn’t matter because everyone could then see that you were his, and that only he could get you all riled up like this in the water.

His finger thrusts were becoming quicker and viciously hit your sensitive spot, causing you to struggle to keep still in the water. Your legs were squirming around and firmly clinging onto his leg, and your nails kept digging into his torso. All so you wouldn’t lose balance.

“Plea- Please, go slower”, you whine, not sure how much more of this you’d be able to take without exposing yourself.

“What was that, you want it faster?” Mattheo got extremely turned on watching you barely being able to keep it together. He was this close to pushing you over the edge right now. His fingers continued going in and out of you at an ungodly speed, solely focused on your pleasure. Meanwhile his cock was begging for some friction too, the bulge becoming clearly visible through his swimming shorts.

At that point, the rough fingering was becoming too much, and you felt your rushed climax approaching. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum”, you whimper.

But all of a sudden he pulls his fingers out. The sensation was gone. While he was licking his fingers clean with a smirk plastered on his face, you were desperately clenching around nothing anymore. “Mattheo, please make me finish”, you impatiently beg him. He couldn’t just leave you hanging like this, after all he’d started it.

There was nothing more that you wanted right now, than to have him stroke your sweet spot repeatedly, to have his fingers torturing you into orgasm after orgasm. It didn’t matter anymore that you were in public, all you wanted was him.

“Sorry darling, party’s over”, and with that you saw everyone leaving the lake to get dressed and go back to your dorms. Awfully convenient you thought.

Seeing from Mattheo’s devious expression, you realized his goal was to leave you feeling unsatisfied all along, so you would be even hornier later on.

And just like he predicted, his mischievous plan succeeded. At least you were sure that he was going to make it up to you back in his dorm.

[ghulehunknown]

Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

[venusstorm]

𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

Fearful that Bucky only likes you for your body, you finally gather the courage to tell him how you feel.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral, insecure!reader, mentions of body worshiping, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist | W/C: 733

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ

Being jealous of something that was a part of you felt stupid, and yet, you fell victim to the blossoming insecurity.

You shifted slightly as Bucky spoke down to your pussy, mumbling incoherently as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. At first, it was endearing how much he worshiped you. Whispering how much he adored you between your thighs until you came around his sweet lips.

Until one day you felt disconnected – as if he was no longer worshiping you but solely what rested between your legs.

After hard days on the job, he wouldn't say a word. Would just slide open your legs and speak to your cunt in that sweet tone of his. "You're so pretty aren't you?" He'd sing. You knew he was talking about your pussy, so you never uttered a word in response besides loud whines and moans.

It continued like that for days and eventually, you grew tired of never being asked about your day. Missing the time when he’d rush home and the only thing he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms. When “my pretty baby” meant solely you.

You needed him to speak to you, to worship you face to face. As foolish as it seemed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he no longer saw you.

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ

Tears sprung into your eyes as you tried to confess your feelings. You despised confrontation, and this was exactly why. No matter what emotion you felt, they were always accompanied by watery eyes. 

"Hey— hey, what's wrong sweetheart?" Bucky quickly joins you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.

"What am I to you?" You whisper.

Bucky's taken aback. "My everything." He began to panic internally. Had he done something wrong? His worst fear was always disappointing you, hurting you. And seeing your face wet with tears as you question your relationship had his knees buckling.

"I feel like you don't care anymore," you hiccup.

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly. He’s thankful you don’t pull away. "Please tell me what I did," he pleads.

You shake your head, laughing dishearteningly at how pathetic it would sound coming out of your mouth. "You know what. It's stupid I'm sorry. I'm just being overly sensitive."

His gaze hardens. "If it's enough to make you cry then it's not stupid. I just wanna help you, baby. Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

You inhale shakily before speaking, terrified that Bucky would find you needy and pathetic for what you were about to say. "You only want to speak to my fucking cunt, James. You come home and don't even speak to me sometimes. I— I feel like you're using me." Your eyes widen after the last sentence, afraid that you pushed it too far. You knew he would never use you but god you couldn't help but feel as if he were.

Another wave of tears streams down your face as you await his response. "M'sorry baby, I know you probably never meant to do that and I don't know, maybe it's nothing at all and I'm just being more whiny than usual. I'm sure nobody on earth has complained about their boyfriend speaking to their fucking cunt and—"

Your rambling is cut off as Bucky smashes his lips against yours, his arms pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so sorry," he groans. "You're completely right to be upset. I should've realized...I was just so caught up in my own shitty days that I failed to realize I'd come home and not ask about yours."

He couldn't even continue speaking, not when he was envisioning you thinking about how he possibly didn't love you. That he only cared about what was between your legs and not the beautiful personality and person in front of him. Bucky began to tear up, he couldn't hold you close enough.

"You mean everything to me, doll. I'm gonna start praising you face to face like I should've been all along."

You whimper against his hold. Thankful that he was so understanding of your needs. 

"I love you so much," he whispers. "Love you more than anything and anyone in the world." His eyes connect with yours in pure disbelief that he’s with the most gorgeous soul he’s ever met.

"I love you too Buck," you sigh happily.

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚editor!reader hc's ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: sfw and nsfw portions !! reader is hamzah's roomie :3

**for this dynamic i also made reader and hamzah both virgins, which comes up in these hc's and will come up more in the future if that's smth y'all want me to elaborate on!**

chat i think im back .......

(sfw)

-getting constantly shouted out in vlogs

"shout out, y/n, our editor. she's on the front lines going through all this footage for you, slushies, yall better be grateful."

-eventually face revealing by being on an episode of the pod. it's titled smth like 'and they were roomates' or 'editor reveal (real)' idk

-the whole pod episode hamzah keeps looking at you every time you speak and 'accidentally' touches your thigh

-there's so many fan accs on tiktok that clip it and air tf out of him 😭😭😭😭

-hazmah tries to explain the dynamic of living with his editor on the pod, but even he doesn't know exactly what it is (and neither do you)

-as unprofessional as it may seem, somehow it works

-hamzah never lets you do all the work. he always offers to help you out when you're starting to get tired or in a slump

"hamzah, it's my job. lemme just finish this-"

"nah, you're clocking out for the night. you've been dismissed." he shoos you away from your shared work desk that you've been sitting at for hours

-as unprofessional as it is, you can't deny how massive of a fucking crush you have on him....especially when he pulls that domestic shit on you

-when you're exhausted from editing, he'll make you food or take you on a late night drive for ice cream in your pj's

-grocery shopping omg he loves that shit so bad !! on sundays you guys go to the store and hit up the farmer's markets downtown. hamzah gets excited every time, he'll wake up hella early each time he's so cute :,)

-if you're not from toronto or canada, he'll show you around his favorite places. in general, he's just happy to have someone to share stuff with (i'll cry)

-CASUAL DOMINANCE !!!! him being your boss and giving you deadlines for vids makes you blush so hard. he's never ever bossy/rude, but he's firm and technical about how he envisions certain vids and you want to deliver for him

-no matter how many times you run through the final edit with him, you still get nervous

-you're hanging onto his every word and facial expression, praying that he likes the way the vid turned out (he always likes it)

-you loves when he laughs at your editing choices, it's lowkey your goal to make him smile/laugh...equal parts job validation and crush validation 🙇‍♀️

-being roommates has led to many, manyyyyy late night mukbangs

-i can just imagine y'all at 2am eating a whole spread of food on the floor in the living room and talking about deep stuff

-speaking of deep stuff, it took you guys a couple months to open up to each other, but one night you were both editing super late and somehow the topic of sex came up....

-you guys bonded over being late bloomers, agreeing to keep each other's secret, which in turn made you closer

-being the slushy editor (and videographer sometimes) means getting to go on trips with them for vids !!!

-getting to go to curaçao and having the room next to hamzah's in the hotel.... (i'll make a separate thing abt this dw)

-i feel like the fans would love you and honestly prefer you and mandy over the boys lmfao

-mandy is so big sister <333 she's so happy to have another girl to be around at long last

-when hamzah and martin are arguing over smth in a vid, they'll drag you in for a third party opinion bc mandy has given up

-if you fall asleep on the couch watching a movie, hamzah will carry you to your bed or at least put a blanket over you. it kinda depends if he's feeling brave or not.

(intimate stuff, some nsfw)

-the sexual tension in the apartment is through the mf roof

-the funny part is neither of you do anything to initiate it, it's just so natural AND YOU BOTH FEEL IT BUT ARE TOO SCARED TO SAY ANYTHING !!!!

-sometimes hamzah will come home from the gym while you're editing...he'll have a thin, fitted shirt on, all sweaty and tired looking

-you pretend not to notice him, fiddling away on your computer with your headphones on (no volume playing ofc), but you have to clench your thighs together sometimes bc the sight is nearly too much to handle

-shower time gives you a heart attack each night

-a couple months into living together, hamzah gave up on getting dressed in the bathroom after his showers, so he'll walk out with just a towel around his waist and grab a drink from the fridge

-when you guys have movie night and there's a graphic sex scene he gets so awkward omfg...he'll go get smth from the kitchen or make a stupid joke so he doesn't get #bricked pretending it's you and him doing those things

-you're almost certain you've heard him jerk off a couple times, but obviously you're too scared too investigate further

-little do you know, he's jerking off to you 🎀

-you wonder if he's ever heard you masturbate, especially bc you're walls are so thin.🗿.......you try to do it when's out, but sometimes him being a wall away from you turns you on too much

-yes, he's knocked on your door in the middle of you doing it 😭

"y/n!! the landlord is here, she has a couple questions and i don't know the answers, please come help me...she scares me."

"i-uh..shit, ok, hamzah, just give me a sec !!!" you're scrambling, trying to put yourself together so it's not obvious you were literally just thinking about him fucking you

-even though you know it's fucked up, him being your boss makes you horny 🤕

-especially when he's peering over your shoulder, pointing out things he thinks you should add to the video. the smell of his cologne, the gentle cadence of his voice, how his hand takes the mouse from your hand and he mumbles a little apology under his breath....lawd....

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @42angelgirl + let me know if u wanna be added !!!!!

[recklessmark]

i can help

Pairings: Manipulative step dad Mark x Innocent afab reader

Summary: You're hurt by your breakup but determined to make your step father feel better after finding out that you’ve made him hurt almost every day for the past few months

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), infidelity, daddy kink, virginity sex, masturbation, coercion and heavy manipulation, degradation, dirty talk, breeding.

Word count: 4k

A/N: to the anon that sent the ask of step dad mark, this is not exactly what you imagined. i twisted the story a little bit... hope you like it :)

It had been a long fucking day. A long week to be honest. 

But today was an interminable marathon of work that left Mark weary. The clock struck 4 a.m. and he yearned for the solace of your voice, a lifeline amidst the storm. Despite the ungodly hour, he dialed your number, his heart praying fervently that you would answer. And when you did, a familiar rhythm of "hi" and "how are you?" began, like a soothing melody as he took off everything but his underwear and slipped under the covers. 

“When do you come back?” You asked, making him smile. 

"Just a few more days, my princess. I promise," he assured, his voice a balm to your restless soul.

"Okay," you replied softly, vulnerability seeping into your tone. Then, in a hushed confession, you added, "I miss you."

His throat emitted a low, smoldering chuckle, envisioning the delicate blush that surely adorned your cheeks. “I miss you too, sweetheart. What have you been up to though?” 

You rambled on about your day, telling him about how you  made cookies earlier for Henry—your idiotic boyfriend, and that you were quickly growing bored in the mostly empty manor and your completely empty apartment. His wife—your mother—had been out of town for five days, and even if she was present, it still felt like she’s invisible. Sometimes, Mark felt sorry for you, but he was also thankful for that because it meant he was the one that took care of you.

He tried to pay attention, honestly he did. But he hasn’t touched his cock in almost a week because of how busy he’s been on the business trip and he missed the sound of your voice. So what else was he supposed to do when his cock fattened up in his briefs? 

When you started talking about this argument you had with your boyfriend, he tuned out your words a little bit, just listening to the softness of your voice, imagining the pretty little whimpers you could make with it. Pushing the covers and his underwear down, he freed his cock and instantly took it in his hand, stroking slowly. His breathing started to change a little, growing heavier and faster, making you trail off in the middle of your sentence. 

“Don’t stop talking, princess.” He rasped, hand speeding up. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly. 

“I’m perfect. Your voice is just so soothing, baby. Keep talking.” 

“O-okay.” You continued hesitantly, telling him about how you were so sad after the argument, wishing he was there to give you advice, or just simply provide comfort for you. You also told him about how you’ve been having trouble sleeping since you can’t come to his room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. God- he fucking misses that too. It’s one of his favorite things, being able to caress your body or grind against you while you sleep, never waking up because of how safe you feel in his arms. When he let out a quiet grunt, you stopped again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?” 

“I’m so good, princess. Keep going.” He tried not to moan through the words. 

“Okay…” He swiped a thumb over the tip and took in a sharp breath, making you stop again. “Why are you breathing weird, Daddy?” 

“Baby, I'm not.” He sighed. “I promise I'm okay. If you don’t want to keep talking, we don’t have to.”

“No!” You said quickly, because of his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried.” Instead of letting him reply, you continued talking about random things that have happened while he’s been away. Every once in a while he’d let out a sound to let you know he was listening, a grunt disguised as a sound of acknowledgement, but you bought it. 

He started tuning out your words again, just focusing on the soft lull of your sleepy voice. You being sleepy is probably his favorite thing, closely followed by you being scared or in pain. You’re so pliable, so easy to manipulate. He can caress your tit or your ass and pass it off as an accident, or even tell you that he can’t sleep in clothes, only underwear, and that it’s perfectly normal for your step father to sleep almost naked beside you whenever your busy mother is away. Sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he can convince you that you won’t be comfortable in those modest pajamas you wear and that you’ll be able to sleep much better in just his shirt. And you almost always agree. 

He stroked his cock even faster, quickly nearing his orgasm after so long without one, and when he cursed under his breath, then let out a long, quiet groan, you trailed off again. 

You did your best to keep speaking, stuttering through the sentences, but it fell on deaf ears as he came, thinking about how fucking hot it was that you didn’t even know.  When his noises quieted and he was slightly panting, you decided to ask again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m perfect, baby.” He sounded significantly more tired and relaxed, but he knew you’d be too stupid to put it together. “You’re so good for me- my good girl. Thank you, princess.” 

“You’re welcome…?” You asked, confused, but he wasn’t going to bother explaining. “Are you tired now?” 

“Just a little, but I can stay up for you.” He murmured, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe his come off his stomach, cock twitching as he imagined you licking it off him instead. 

“You don’t have to. I’m tired too.” He knew you well enough to know that was a lie. 

“How about we go to sleep, but don’t hang up. How does that sound?” 

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” You said quietly, but he could practically hear the smile in your voice.  

“I love you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”

He knew he would at least have some. 

"Mark?" you whispered, your voice trembling through the narrow gap of the door. He stirred in bed, the sheets slipping down, revealing his bare chest. Sensing your distress, he sat up, his eyes filled with concern.

"Another bad dream?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress that soothed your frayed nerves. Nodding in confirmation, you stepped inside, drawn to the comfort of his embrace. With a tender gesture, he lifted the covers, inviting you to slide beneath them. Curling up against his chest, you sought solace in his presence as his arms enveloped your trembling form.

"Did I wake you?" you whispered, your voice laced with guilt, your vulnerability laid bare before him. Whenever your mother is away doing god-knows-what, you always find yourself slipping into her bedroom. You didn’t know if it’s the right thing to do to sleep next to your mother’s husband without her knowing it, but it’s easier to fall asleep with Mark, especially when you have one of those nightmares.

"Nah, couldn't sleep," he replied, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back, an attempt to chase away your anguish. "Just had a lot on my mind. But let's focus on you. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to find your voice. It wasn't a nightmare that had shaken you to the core—it was something far more devastating. With a quivering breath, you finally managed to utter the words that weighed heavily on your heart.

"It's not... not a dream," you choked out, the truth hanging heavy in the air. "I... I broke up with Henry."

Mark's lips pressed together, a concealed smile tugging at the corners. Beneath the guise of sympathy, he masked his true sentiments, knowing all too well that Henry was a pitiful fool who never deserved someone as exquisite as you. But he had bided his time, refraining from openly expressing his disdain for the fucker while you remained entangled in a relationship. Now, as the truth spilled from your lips, he adopted a pretense of speechlessness, his feigned sympathy coating his words.

"Well, that's unexpected," he mumbled, his voice veiling his true satisfaction. "I'm sorry, baby."

The words lingered, a heavy silence stretching between you. And then, the floodgates opened, tears streaming down your cheeks as the weight of your decision crashed upon you. Mark held you tighter, his touch a lifeline amidst the wreckage of your shattered relationship.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a seductive lullaby, its dark undertones weaving a tapestry of comfort. With tender care, he wiped away your tears, his touch a balm for your wounded soul. "I'm here for you, always. Let it out, let it all out."

Sobs wracked your body as you clung to him, your tears staining the fabric of his embrace. “I really like him…” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pain.

"I know," Mark grunted, his voice laced with a hidden jealousy that he fought to conceal. "But I don't think he's good for you."

Looking up from his chest, a slight frown etched upon your features, you questioned. “How do you know?”

He sighed, his thumb tenderly caressing the crease between your brows. “This is not the first time you cry because of him, is it?”

Your lips pursed, your gaze thoughtful as it rested upon him. Mark's words held an undeniable truth—your relationship with Henry had seldom been a source of genuine happiness. He craved excitement, always seeking something more, while you, plagued by fear, hesitated to embrace life's adventures. It had been a ticking time bomb, waiting to implode.

"Did I ever make you cry, baby?" Mark asked, as if seeking confirmation that your ex was a douchebag. A soft shake of your head earned a tender smile from him. "You see, he's not the right person if he fails to bring you happiness."

His words resonated in the air, mingling with the breathless silence surrounding you. Mark's lips brushed against the crown of your head, a gesture filled with an enigmatic tenderness. The nature of your bond remained a mystery, veiled in shadows, yet whenever you were near him, your stomach fluttered and your mind grew weightless. Whenever he touches you, it always feels good. Not a normal good though. It makes your core start to ache and you feel like you have to pee. The more you continued thinking about it, the more you started to feel it. 

"Daddy?" you ventured timidly, your voice barely a whisper. He emitted a low hum, granting you permission to continue and you tried to let the vibrations of his chest calm you. “How come whenever you touch me, it... it makes me feel... weird?"

His hand froze on your back, and a sudden tension enveloped the room, causing you to stiffen, worried you said something wrong.

"Weird how?" Mark's voice echoed with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Your cheeks flushed, warmth blossoming beneath your skin as you struggled to find the right words.

"Good weird," you managed to confess, your voice laced with uncertainty.

A silent pause hung in the air, before Mark's hand resumed its soothing motions on your back, as if trying to quell the charged atmosphere between you. With a voice heavy with anticipation, he asked, "Where does it feel good?"

Your breath hitched, your mind racing, as you summoned the courage to answer. "My tummy... and... and my..." This time, it was Mark who stiffened beneath you, his reaction palpable.

“Where, princess?” He urged you to continue, but you just whined softly and buried your face in the sanctuary of his chest. Sensing your hesitation, his free hand ventured boldly, brushing against your inner thigh with a teasing caress that sent shivers coursing through your veins. With a featherlight touch, he trailed his fingers upward, barely grazing the fabric that concealed the heat between your legs. You jumped at the sudden touch.

“Here?” He rasped. A nod escaped your lips, accompanied by a barely audible affirmation, "Mhm."

“Do you know what this is?” That made you frown— you’re not stupid. 

“Of course I do.” Your tone made him chuckle under his breath. 

"Have you ever touched here before?" His gruff words ignited a tremor within you, nearly eliciting a whimper as you confessed the truth.

"No... I'm not supposed to," you muttered, feeling your hips instinctively seek the pressure of his fingertips.

“Who told you that?” You knew if you looked at him, he’d be frowning. 

“School…” You said quietly. You never like to talk about the fact that you went to a religious school– people always make fun of you for it. He hummed in acknowledgment, then removed his hand, making you let out a needy whine and buck your hips forward. Instead of responding, he just took your hand, and gently moved it down, under the covers. When he placed it on his bulge, you gasped and tried to remove it, but he held you there, making you feel him. 

“You know what this is?” He asked and you bit your lip as you nodded. “Good. Do you know why I’m hard?” This time, you shook your head. “Because of you, princess.” 

“Me?” You lifted your head to look at him. 

“Mhm. Always you. Everytime you sit on my lap, cuddle with me, whimper when we spar and I go a little too rough– you always make me so hard, baby.” You stared at him with wide eyes, watching the his dark-browns almost completely disappear from the size of his pupils. “And everytime, I have to come in here or go to the bathroom and jerk myself off to make it better. And it’s all your fault.” That made your face tighten in a grimace. 

“I’m  sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He brushed some of your hair behind your ear then cupped your cheek, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“It’s okay, baby. But if you want to make me feel better, you have to do something.” You wanted to help him, you wanted to make up for all the times you made him feel like this. 

“What? I’d do anything.”

Instead of answering, he just helped you on top of him, so your front was completely pressed to his. You placed your hands on his chest and he grabbed your hips, then started dragging your core over his bulge. 

“Anything?” He asked.

You nodded, holding down a whimper. “Just wanna make you feel better, Daddy.” 

“Good girl. You’re so good, princess.” He cooed, giving you a soft smile that made your heart flutter. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

“Only once with Henry,” you said quietly, glancing away from him, embarrassed at your lack of experience. 

“Good.” He all but growled. Mark removed a hand from your hips and placed it on the back of your neck, then pulled you down, only stopping once your lips brushed his. Your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, you weren’t sure what to expect from this. 

Finally, he pressed his lips to yours, slowly kissing you to get you used to it. After a moment, he deepened the kiss. The warm, wet sensation on your lips made you gasp and he slid his tongue in your now open mouth. It was weird. But it feels good.

By now, your hips were rutting against his as you grew more desperate. He was barely guiding your movements anymore while you chased the pleasure. When he pulled back, your eyes fluttered open, lips still parted and chest heaving. You never knew kissing could feel like that. Your step father must have some magic because it didn’t feel like that with your ex. That thought made you freeze. 

“W-wait, we shouldn’t be doing this. You’re my step dad and– I was supposed to wait until marriage.” You said quietly. 

“I thought you said you wanted to make Daddy feel better?” He frowned, making your stomach drop. 

“I- I do, but,” 

“There’s no “but.” Either you want to help me or you don’t.” He had a look of disappointment and anger that was intensified by a frown. “You’re the reason I feel like this. You seriously just want to leave me in pain?” 

Pain? You didn’t know it was hurting.

“It hurts?” You squeaked, brows furrowing in concern. 

“You’ve never heard of blue balls?” You shook your head, so he continued. “It’s incredibly painful, sweetheart. Only feels better once I can bury it in a tight, warm cunt. And you’ve made me feel like this for months.” 

“I- I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t know…” You whimpered, chest aching at the thought of you being the cause of his pain. 

“I don’t forgive you. Not yet anyway.” Tears welled in your eyes from his words. 

“I want to help. Please,”

He shushed you and cupped your cheek again. “You sure?” 

“Please. Wanna make you feel better.” You whimpered and the corners of his lips turned up at your words. 

“Okay, princess. I’ll let you help me.” 

“Thank you.” Before you could even finish, he was rolling you both over so he was on top. He settled between your legs and leaned up on his knees. 

“First, this has to come off.” He said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it off. “You’ll only really be able to make me feel better if you’re naked.” He explained, when he saw your confused expression. “These too.” He pulled your sleep shorts and panties down your legs, making you blush. Letting out a low groan, he swiped his thumb through your folds, then circled your clit lightly, making your hips buck into the friction.  

“You’re helping already.” He smirked and you glanced at the tent in his underwear. It didn’t look like you were helping. You whined when he removed his hand, but he quickly moved down to your hole and inserted a finger, letting out a low groan at your tight heat. 

As he fingered you, he debated what to do. While part of him wanted to prep you, make it as easy on you as possible, a larger part wanted to fuck your virgin cunt right now, before it could get any looser. He didn’t have to think about it for a second longer before he was removing his finger and shoving his pants down his thighs. When you saw his cock, your eyes widened as your lips parted in shock at his size. He took it in his hand and stroked it slowly. 

“Just the tip, okay? I promise, baby. Just need to put the tip inside, then Daddy will feel better.” He said, to ease your anxiety. You whined, but agreed anyway. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he lined his length up with your hole.

“Relax, princess. It’s okay.” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t help but obey. It took a lot of pressure before his cock was able to breach your hole. Once he pushed in though, you tensed up again. 

“Hurts, Daddy. It hurts…” You whimpered, eyes burning with unshed tears. Your pussy was trying to force him out, not used to the intrusion yet. 

“I know, baby. Just relax.” His voice was strained with arousal and he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, making walls flutter around his cock. “Fuck, that’s good.” He groaned, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. 

“God- I know I said just the tip, but it feels so good. Can you take just a little bit more?” 

“Daddy please, it hurts…” You whined. 

“I know, princess. You gotta relax, it’ll feel good soon.” He slowly pushed in farther and you cried out, digging your nails into his back. “So fucking good. Your little cunt feels so good.” He said through a moan. He pulled back, then pushed in again, continuing the slow rhythm. 

“This is just what I needed, baby. You’re doing such a good job for me.” You tried to focus on his words and the stimulation on your clit, rather than the constant pain from the stretch. “Good girl. Good fucking girl- take it.” He growled on a particularly sharp thrust that made you let out a choked sob. 

“You fucking owe me for all the times you gave me blue balls. I’m gonna fuck you every night now to make up for it.” He hissed, voice getting progressively breathier as the speed of his thrusts increased. “Gonna bury my cock balls deep and fill you up with my come fucking breed you, every single night.” He growled. His pace turned bruising and you could barely release any sounds because of the way your breath was being punched out of you with every thrust. 

“You deserve to be my little breeding bitch after all the months you made me fucking come on my hand instead of in this tight, little cunt.” He spat, placing a hand on your neck and squeezing. “What’ll your mommy say, huh? When you go to her asking for birth control. Or are you just gonna let me knock you up?” You let out a whimper, feeling your cheeks heat up at just the thought of the embarrassing conversation. 

“Maybe you will just have to let me knock you up. After all, it’s not like you can tell her you let her husband fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” You sobbed, too overwhelmed emotionally and physically. 

“From now on, you’re going to come in here every night. And I’m going to use your little cunt until I fuck my load into you. Do you understand?” He growled, making you whimper. “This is your own fucking fault so stop bitching about it. You’re the one who decided to be a fucking tease around me.” You let out a choked sob, knowing that he’s right. You didn’t tease him on purpose, but you still made him hurt everyday for months. 

His thrusts turned frenzied as he buried his face in the crook of your neck again. Only a few thrusts later and he was pushing all the way inside, the pressure on your cervix almost painful as he forced his cock in. He let out a low groan and you could feel him twitching against your walls as started to fill you. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavy, then leaned up to sit on his heels. 

He slowly pulled out, eyes never leaving your cunt, and cursed under his breath when his come started dripping out. Ignoring the blood on his dick, he swiped his fingers through the mess and pushed it back in your hole. As he watched some of it leak down to your ass, he made a mental note to buy some lube so he can fuck that soon too. 

“Did- did I help?” You whimpered, making his gaze move to you. He eyed your fucked out face, the way your cheeks were still wet with tears and your hair was tousled, and gave you a small smile. 

“You did, princess. Thank you. But this isn’t a permanent fix, okay? I meant what I said about you coming here every night.” Despite the softness of his voice, it was still stern, letting you know that this wasn’t a request, it was an order. You let out a quiet whimper at the thought of having to do this again, but as long as you were making him feel better, any pain you felt would be worth it. 

He grabbed your underwear to clean his cock, then pulled them back up your legs. You already made enough of a mess on his sheets, he didn’t need his come adding to it any more than it already did. When he laid back down and pulled you into him, you hissed in pain as you moved but eventually got comfortable enough to sleep. 

“Love you so much, princess. You did such a good job for me.” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, making you smile. 

“Love you too, Daddy.” You mumbled sleepily. 

[meanbossart]

Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)

As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.

Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )

I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:

I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.

Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:

Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.

Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.

So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:

Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:

posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.

In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!

While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).

Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.

Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)

Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:

"Can I trace this junk?"

And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.

However,

If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.

Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".

So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.

Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.

A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.