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xo100 · 5 months ago

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A summer to remember - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando, Y/N, and their daughter Isla enjoy a perfect summer vacation filled with love, beach fun, and yacht adventures.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2388

୨ৎ

It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sun was already casting its golden glow over the peaceful coastline. The soft sound of waves lapping against the shore could be heard through the open windows of the cozy villa where Lando Norris, his wife, and their one-year-old daughter, Isla, were spending their vacation. It was a much-needed break from Lando's hectic Formula 1 schedule, and he was determined to make the most of every second with his little family.

Inside the villa, the sweet scent of fresh pastries filled the air as Y/N was busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Isla was sitting in her highchair, her big, curious eyes watching her mom move around, while her tiny hands held onto a small stuffed bear that she never seemed to let go of. Lando, fresh from a shower, entered the kitchen with a content smile, his heart swelling at the sight of his two favorite girls.

“Morning, love,” he murmured, stepping up behind Y/N and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re up early. Didn’t think we’d need to be up so soon on holiday.”

Y/N smiled, leaning back into him as she flipped a pancake. “Well, someone woke up hungry,” she said, glancing over at Isla, who was babbling happily to her bear. “Besides, it’s too beautiful outside to waste the day.”

Lando hummed in agreement, his chin resting on Y/N's shoulder as he watched her cook. “You’re right. What’s the plan today, then? What amazing adventure are we going on?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could start with a beach day. Just us, some sand, and the ocean. Maybe build a sandcastle with Isla. She’s been dying to get her hands in the sand.”

Lando grinned, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He loved the thought of spending the day on the beach with his family, especially if it meant seeing Isla’s face light up with excitement. “That sounds perfect,” he said, stealing a quick kiss before letting her go. “But I think we should add something extra later. How about a yacht ride this afternoon? I’ve already got one booked for us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “A yacht? Seriously, Lando?”

“Of course,” he replied with a cocky smile, giving her a playful wink. “Figured we’d sail off into the sunset like in the movies. You know, champagne in hand, wind in our hair… or at least, your hair. Isla and I don’t have much of that,” he teased, running a hand through his slightly damp hair for emphasis.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re too much sometimes, Norris.”

Lando winked. “And you love it.”

Isla, hearing her dad’s voice, squealed excitedly, her little arms reaching out towards him. Lando’s expression softened instantly as he scooped her up from the highchair and spun her around, her giggles filling the kitchen. “There’s my girl!” he said, holding her close and pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Ready for a fun day with Mum and Dad?”

Isla giggled in response, her tiny hand grabbing onto Lando’s shirt, holding on as if she never wanted to let go. Lando’s heart melted, as it did every time he looked at his daughter. She was the perfect mix of both him and Y/N—her sparkling eyes and infectious laughter were all her mother, while the little dimple in her cheek and the mischievous glint in her eye were pure Lando.

After breakfast, the three of them headed down to the beach, which was only a short walk from the villa. The sand was warm beneath their feet, and the ocean stretched out in front of them, glittering under the morning sun. It was the kind of picture-perfect day that made it hard to believe anything else existed beyond this little slice of paradise.

Lando carried Isla on his hip, holding her tiny hand as she stared wide-eyed at the ocean for the first time. Her mouth formed a little "o" of wonder as the gentle breeze tousled her soft hair. “Look at that, Isla,” Lando said, pointing towards the waves. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just like your mum.”

Y/N, who had been spreading out a blanket, glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Lando’s words. “Flatterer,” she teased, though her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. No matter how long they’d been together, Lando always knew how to make her heart skip a beat.

Once everything was set up, Y/N and Lando took turns playing with Isla in the sand, helping her dig little holes and attempting to build a sandcastle that mostly ended up in a pile of mush, thanks to Isla’s enthusiastic hands. Lando pretended to be frustrated as Isla gleefully knocked over the little towers he was trying to make. “Isla, love, I’m trying to build a masterpiece here,” he said in mock seriousness, though his grin gave him away.

Isla just giggled, grabbing another handful of sand and letting it slip through her tiny fingers. Y/N watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. There was something so pure and beautiful about the way Lando interacted with their daughter. He was playful, patient, and so incredibly gentle with her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was. Both of them were.

After a few hours of playing in the sand and dipping their toes in the water, it was time for Isla’s nap. Y/N and Lando packed up their things and headed back to the villa, where Isla quickly fell asleep in her crib, her little face peaceful and content.

With their daughter sound asleep, Y/N and Lando had a rare moment of quiet together. They sat out on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lando stretched out on the lounge chair next to her, his hand lazily tracing circles on her leg. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. “Just the two of us for a bit.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out at the ocean. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s nice to just… be. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”

Lando turned his head to look at her, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of love and admiration that always made her stomach flutter. “You know,” he said quietly, his fingers gently brushing her skin, “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I love you. How much I appreciate everything you do for Isla and me.”

Y/N’s breath caught slightly at the sincerity in his voice. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart swelling with emotion. “Lando…”

“No, really,” he insisted, sitting up a little. “I don’t say it enough. You’re incredible, Y/N. The way you love our daughter, the way you take care of us… You make everything feel so effortless, and I just—I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, Lando. More than you know.”

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else. In that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, the world fading away.

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lando, Y/N, and Isla boarded the yacht that Lando had arranged. It was a sleek, beautiful boat, and as they set off into the open water, the breeze ruffling their hair, it felt like something out of a dream.

Isla was fascinated by the gentle rocking of the boat, her little hands gripping the edge of the railing as she watched the water with wide eyes. Lando stood behind her, his hands on either side of hers, keeping her steady while whispering little words of encouragement. “Look at that, baby girl. Isn’t it amazing? Just like flying, huh?”

Y/N watched them from her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the two of them. There was something so undeniably sweet about seeing Lando with Isla. He was a natural father, always knowing how to make her smile, always there to comfort her when she was upset.

As the yacht sailed further out, Lando eventually scooped Isla up and carried her back to Y/N, sitting down next to her and cuddling Isla between them. The three of them sat together, watching the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a golden-orange glow over the water.

“This is perfect,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on Lando’s shoulder as she cradled Isla in her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Lando smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me either,” he murmured. “This… this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Y/N glanced up at him, her heart swelling at the love in his eyes. “You mean that?”

He looked down at her, his expression serious but filled with so much warmth. “I do. You and Isla… you’re my world, Y/N. Everything I do, it’s for you two. And I’ll never stop loving you, not for a second.”

Her breath caught at his words, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and sweet.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the weight of Lando’s words settling between them like the most beautiful promise. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling as the world seemed to pause for just a moment. Isla, nestled between them, was quietly playing with Lando’s fingers, completely content in the embrace of her parents.

“I love you, too,” Y/N whispered, her voice full of emotion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

Lando smiled, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I know, love,” he murmured. “I feel it every single day.”

They sat there for a long while, the boat gently swaying with the rhythm of the sea, as the last rays of sunlight danced on the horizon. Isla eventually dozed off in Y/N’s arms, her tiny body relaxing completely, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.

Lando looked down at his daughter, his heart nearly bursting at the sight. He reached out to lightly stroke her hair, his touch so gentle it was almost reverent. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he said quietly, his voice filled with awe. “How did we get so lucky?”

Y/N smiled down at Isla, her heart swelling with love for the little girl in her arms. “We did get lucky,” she agreed softly. “She’s everything.”

Lando’s gaze shifted from Isla to Y/N, his expression softening even further. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I think you’ve told me that about a hundred times today.”

“Well, I mean it. Every time,” he teased, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re stuck with me, Norris, so I’m gonna remind you as often as I can.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Y/N whispered against his lips before kissing him back.

As the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky fading into a soft twilight, they decided to head back to the villa. Lando took Isla from Y/N’s arms, cradling their sleeping daughter as they made their way back to the dock. The boat ride back was quiet, peaceful, the gentle hum of the engine and the lapping of the water lulling them into a contented silence.

When they reached the villa, Lando carefully carried Isla to her room, tucking her into bed with the same care and tenderness he always showed. Y/N stood in the doorway, watching him with a soft smile on her face, her heart full as she took in the sight of Lando, who had once been the carefree, fast-driving boy, now a devoted father and partner.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to Isla’s forehead before pulling the blanket up around her tiny body. He stood for a moment, just watching her sleep, his heart filled with a deep sense of contentment. Finally, he turned to Y/N, slipping his hand into hers as they quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

Once back in their bedroom, Y/N flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh, stretching her arms above her head. Lando followed, lying down beside her and propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “So,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What’s the verdict? Best day ever?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her eyes sparkling with love and amusement. “I’d say it’s definitely up there,” she teased. “But tomorrow might just top it.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Whatever it is, as long as I’m with you and Isla, it’s already perfect.”

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, full of the love and promise they’d built over the years. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N curled into Lando’s side, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

“Thank you for today,” Y/N murmured, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “It was perfect.”

Lando kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. For you and Isla, I’d do anything.”

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves outside their window lulling them to sleep. As Lando drifted off, his heart full and his arms wrapped around the woman he loved, he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

And as the stars twinkled above, casting their soft light over the peaceful villa, one thing was certain: this summer, this moment, would be one they’d cherish forever.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! I’m currently writing part three of baking cookies! I hope to finish it soon and upload it soon!

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endzithefangirl · 6 months ago

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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula 1

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incorrectbatfam · 24 days ago

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One thing I rarely see in injury and chronic pain fics is the grief that comes with missing out on stuff you love because you can no longer do them without hurting yourself. Writers who have been disabled their whole lives (or at least a long time) tend to forget that not all disabled people are used to being disabled. For able-bodied characters, especially athletic ones like vigilantes, a serious injury could mean a jarring change that includes giving up the things that mean the most to them.

I was physically fine until I was 18. Back then, my sense of self was entwined with interests that required a lot of movement and dexterity. I started doing MMA in middle school for self-defense. I loved parkour and even had a few hundred subscribers on my old YouTube channel. I learned to shoot and was gifted my first gun when I was 16. I took up multiple instruments. You get the idea.

My motorcycle accident fucked up the joints on my left side—my knee and shoulder especially, but also wrist to an extent. When it first happened, I thought I'd be on crutches for a bit but things would eventually get back to normal. The pain didn't go away even after I got rid of the crutches but I figured it was just residual and I should do what I'd been doing before. It's why I turned to substances—to block the pain and do what I love, but that's another topic. I didn't recognize my injury as a disabling thing until the end of the pandemic, when I put my parkour channel on an indefinite hiatus because it was seriously wearing my body down. It might sound silly to you but I was devastated. It's like if Spider-Man wasn't allowed to swing from buildings. It took me a long time to make peace with losing that part of me.

Another piece of that grief is even when you can do stuff, it's not the same because you have to exclude certain aspects of it for your own health. It's like the Robin that died and came back wrong. I can't use certain gym equipment and I have to tell my sparring partners what to avoid. I don't go to the shooting range much now because I can't extend my arm and hold a rifle for the amount of time it takes to aim without it starting to hurt. I'm a drummer, but I need breaks throughout the setlist and I can't do anything too fast or complex with the pedals, which means I can't play some of my favorite songs and my band is limited in what we write and perform. I can't take my motorcycle on road trips without frequent rest stops. Making accommodations helps physically, but emotionally, they're not always easy to accept because that means accepting the pain as a long-term disability rather than a temporary setback.

This got super long because I think it's unexplored in fics so some tips for creators:

First, learn how the body works and how stupidly fast and easy it is to get hurt. Mine was on a residential road because I didn't pay attention for 0.2 seconds

Learn the difference between internalized ableism and being upset over becoming disabled. I think a lot of writers skip over the feelings someone would naturally experience because it can be construed as ableism. Let them be in denial, sad, angry, etc. upon finding out because acceptance almost never happens right away. That's different from being a dick to themselves or others based on disability

Also, not everyone uses the same labels or has the same vocabulary to describe themselves. Different characters will have different ways of describing depending on their personality, level of knowledge, where they come from, and their relationship with their disability. I still don't really call myself disabled since I don't have it as bad as others so I tell people what happened instead (anyone who says "differently abled" will receive a different ability from me in the Denny's parking lot)

Think about how they cope with their new disability. Do they realize it's a disability right away? Do they talk to someone? Search desperately for a cure? Numb the pain? Turn to alternative methods? Do they worry about something else first, like money? Do they develop something else because of it, like a mental illness? Again, coping poorly is not ableism

What stays the same and what changes? I think about the difference between Forrest Gump and Lieutenant Dan after they were both wounded in battle

If they have a passion they can no longer pursue, it doesn't make much sense for them drop it so readily. Maybe they find a way to continue with accommodations (a good place to get creative!). Maybe they try and push through anyway. If they do ultimately resign, include the thought process and internal conflict behind it

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sugarcoated-lame · 6 months ago

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Easy Like Sunday Morning | Joel Miller x Reader

pre-outbreak joel x reader

all of my works are 18+ only, minors dni!

Summary: You wake up before Joel and decide you want to take care of him.

giving 2003 pre-outbreak Joel some head on a sleepy Sunday morning

a/n: i was inspired by this post by the amazing @mrsmando 🤍 and her delicious joel thoughts that never fail to have me spiraling and swooning 🫠 if i had a nickel for every time i’ve written a joel fic about someone being woken up with some head, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice (sorry i had to lmfaoo). also this is probably the quickest thing i’ve ever written, so i’m sorry if it sucks!

wc: 2.8k

content warnings: no outbreak/pre-outbreak 2003 joel, kricket sucks at writing summaries we know this, smut, oral (m receiving), slightly rough oral, hair pulling, no physical description of reader except that her hair is long enough for joel to pull, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl), no use of y/n, joel miller has a big dick because i said so, established relationship, somno (kinda? joel is like not really awake at the beginning of the smut), this is basically just smut :)

joel masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Lazy Sunday mornings have become your favorite in the weeks since you moved in with Joel.

Nowhere to be, neither one of you has to get up before the sun and go to work. No rushing around to make sure Sarah gets to school on time — just sleep. It’s the one day a week both you and Joel get a chance to sleep in, to wake naturally without the shrill ringing of alarms, and just relish being wrapped up in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eyes still shut as you begin to stir, your mind is only just waking up and the first thing you feel is warmth.

Warmth of the bright, golden Texas sun shining through Joel’s — well, now your — bedroom window and behind your closed lids. Warmth from the plush, gray comforter draped just over your calves, where it had been kicked down in the night in an attempt to curb the relentless, sticky summer heat.

You find yourself cocooned by the furnace-like warmth that is Joel as he lies on his back beside you — a warmth that would probably be overwhelming if it wasn’t such a comfort to you.

Your cheek is pressed to his broad chest, the steady beating of his heart a calming rhythm beneath your ear. Your torso flush against his side, you have an arm wrapped snug around his middle, and a leg draped over both of his. You and Joel both lay almost bare, each clothed in nothing but your underwear after the previous night’s activities — hot skin on hot skin.

When you finally let your eyes flutter open to the bright, morning light, you look up to find Joel still fast asleep and take a moment to admire the peaceful expression on his handsome face.

Long lashes fanning over his cheeks, his brows free of the worried crease that often rests between them, plush pink lips parted as he lets out quiet little snores, his strong chest slowly rising and falling, up and down beneath your cheek with each calming breath. Tanned skin warm and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, dark chocolate locks especially curly due to the humid Texas heat, a few sweaty strands clinging to his forehead.

Seeing Joel laid out like this only reminds you of the way he looked last night — all flushed beneath you, cheeks pink, head thrown back and brown eyes clenched shut in bliss as you hovered above him. Pulling quiet, deep grunts from his parted lips as you rode him, his big hands on your hips, guiding your movements as you lifted yourself up and down on his cock.

The reminder of just how full you felt with him inside you — of how goddamn good he makes you feel — has dampness forming beneath the thin fabric of your panties, thighs attempting to clench shut in search of friction to quell the wave of slick that’s building between your legs, though they’re unable to do so with Joel’s thick thigh slotted between them.

And, though you know Joel is still resting so peacefully beside you, and that you should probably let him sleep in for once, you can’t help it when you feel the sudden and urgent need to kiss him. To feel your lips on his skin.

These lazy Sunday mornings with Joel are your favorite because you know he’s always so busy, always working hard, always so stressed. And, that despite it all, he always takes such good care of you.

So, you want to take this opportunity, when he doesn’t have to be up for work, or take Sarah to school — and you know it’s a couple hours before she’ll be waking up — and you want to do something nice for him. Take care of Joel for once. To make him feel good.

Lifting your head from Joel’s chest, you press your lips to where your cheek had just been. Beginning at his pec, and over his heart, tasting the salt of his sweat-damp skin as you work your way up the broad plane of his chest, dotting feather-light kisses up to the juncture of where his shoulder meets his neck.

You gently untangle yourself from his side, and Joel begins to stir just slightly as you softly mouth along the column of his throat and move to hover over him, your thighs straddling his hips and hands on the mattress on either side of him to hold yourself up.

He’s still mostly asleep, but you can already feel through the layers of both of your underwear that he’s beginning to harden beneath you, his body waking up faster than his brain, always so responsive to your touch.

You continue to kiss across Joel’s strong jaw, over the patchy hair that tickles your lips, dotting a trail of sweet kisses up his cheek and to the tip of his sharp nose, then back down to his mustache and over the corner of his lips.

He stirs again when your lush lips press against his own just once, not quite awake enough to kiss back just yet, but this time a soft hum of approval leaves him at the pleasant feeling.

With one more peck to his soft lips, you begin your descent back down Joel’s body, leaving behind another smattering of kisses in your wake.

From his Adam’s apple to the rounded bone of his shoulder, then back down to his chest. You know he’s a bit more awake when you feel him begin to stir again — his strong body shifting ever so slightly beneath yours, dick twitching against your core underneath the layers of cloth as you place a barely-there kiss to each of his nipples. Joel lets out a sleepy groan as your tongue darts out to lick at the sensitive skin before continuing on your way.

Shifting your body lower on the bed, your kisses become a bit more feverish, less soft as you work your way down Joel’s torso. Your hunger for him only growing as you get closer and closer to the bulge in his boxers, spurred on by the breathy little grunts and groans leaving his parted lips as his mind begins to catch up to the pleasure that his body is feeling.

Joel lets out a content sigh, head still resting on his pillow, eyes still shut and still about half asleep. Unsure if he’s dreaming when he feels you press a firm kiss to the skin just above his navel.

He’s quickly pulled out of that dream-like state, though — breath catching in his throat, jolting beneath you as your warm tongue darts out lick a broad stripe over his soft belly.

You can’t help but grin as you look up to see his face, those pretty brown eyes now open but still bleary with sleep, pillowy lips parted in a gasp, sweaty curls falling over his forehead as he shifts his focus towards you.

“Morning, baby.” You whisper into the quiet of your bedroom, your chin resting on Joel’s tummy as you gaze up at him sweetly.

Your smile only grows when he cards a hand over his tired face, groaning out a tired ‘fuck’.

Now that he’s awake — just barely — you press your lips to his belly one last time before heading lower. Fitting yourself between Joel’s thick thighs, you kiss along the fine hairs of his happy trail, then his hip bones, and you know he’s fully hard when your hands glide up his thighs to palm him over his black boxers.

Joel releases a throaty groan as you stroke him through the soft fabric, one of his large hands coming up to the side of your head. Calloused pads of his fingers running gently through your bed-mussed hair. “Please, darlin’.”

The use of the pet name combined with Joel’s sleepy, Texan morning voice actually makes you whimper, clenching your thighs as a new gush of arousal floods between them. Needy for him as your fingers move to his waistband, gingerly but quickly pulling down the black, cotton fabric and freeing his impressive length.

A quiet, raspy moan escapes Joel’s lips as you spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock. He’s long and thick and heavy in your hand, your fingers hardly able to wrap around the girth of him, his tip an angry red and leaking pretty pearls of precum.

He lets out a quiet hiss as you begin to stroke up from the base, leaning down to kiss along his tip before kitten-licking at the slit, a pleased hum leaving you at the salty, heady taste of his arousal. Joel’s mind is still a bit hazy with sleep, but he swears he’s died and gone to heaven when you lick a hot stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue laving over the thick vein that runs along his shaft.

The hand in your hair tightens its grip when you oh-so-delicately take Joel into your mouth, emitting a pleased hum from you as you gently suckle on his tip. The vibration sends a jolt up his spine, cock twitching in your grasp as you continue to stroke up and down his length with increasing ease as your spits begins to coat his skin. Delicate fingers wrapped tight around him moving up and down to meet your lips as your tongue swirls around the bulbous head.

You take your time, enjoying Joel’s quiet, raspy moans, the whispered curses, and shallow breaths all falling from his lips as you slowly take him deeper and deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth.

When you’re about halfway down his length, you suck in your cheeks, lips tightening around him as you begin to suck with more fervor and Joel has to bite back a desperate moan as you bob up and down his length. His hips buck up of their own volition — the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him is just too good — the two of you groaning in unison as the movement sends his cock further between your lips, the tip just grazing the back of your throat and causing you to gag around him.

“Fuck, m’sorry, baby.” Joel drawls, gently smoothing a hand over the crown of your head. He lifts you up his length just a little bit, just enough to gather your bearings.

You release him from your mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva still connects the two of you between his swollen, red tip and your now swollen lips, and Joel thinks he’s a goner when you wrap a hand tight around his shaft, leaning back in to kitten-lick at his slit.

You smear delicate kisses all along his tip, then up and down every inch of his length, all the while gazing up at him with doe eyes before you bring him between your spit-slicked lips once again.

“So good for me. Always so good for me.”

His morning voice is deep — deeper than normal — and it has your eyes rolling back into your head as you whimper around him, tears collecting at your lash line from having just taken him so deep so abruptly. Nodding your head as much as you can with his cock still in your mouth, you let Joel know that you’re okay to keep going.

You want to please him. He deserves this. You want to make him feel good.

You know that Joel is getting close from the way he’s fighting himself to not buck his hips and fuck up into your mouth, the hand that’s not in your hair clinging to the gray sheets like a lifeline. His chest rapidly rising and falling as he tries his hardest to keep at least somewhat quiet — he knows that his daughter is sleeping right down the hall — biting back gravely grunts and groans that you so wish you could hear at full volume, his cock twitching against your tongue with every little move you make.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you decide to take him as deep as you can go. Swallowing around him as his tip reaches into the depths of your throat, those tears are now spilling freely from your eyes as the coarse hairs at his base tickle your nose.

You suction your cheeks taut and lick along the underside of his shaft, the wet sounds of your sucking growing sloppy, Joel’s pubic hairs now shiny with your spit and his fingers are now pulling hard at your hair, the slight sting in your scalp a pleasurable one and only spurring you on.

A particularly harsh suck has Joel throwing his head back onto his pillow, sweaty curls falling like a halo around his pleasure-wrought features. Whiskey colored eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, nose scrunched, and lips parted in a quiet, guttural groan that lingers in the warm, sticky summer atmosphere of your shared bedroom.

“I’m— fuck!” He damn near whimpers when your free hands reaches out to caress his heavy balls, squeezing getnly as you continue to arduously suck and stroke his length, your hand and mouth working in tandem and meeting in the middle. “I’m close, sweetheart.”

You moan hungrily around him, the vibrations nearly sending Joel over the edge, the hand on your head now pushing you down onto his cock without hesitation – he knows you can take it. Hips thrusting up and chasing the velvety, wet warmth of your throat as you gag on him once more, drool spilling out the corners of your mouth all around him, the wet, sucking sounds filling the room obscene.

Joel practically growls when he feels your nails dig into the meat of his thigh, his chin dropping to his chest and he looks down to find you gazing back at him. Your cheeks hollowed, lips stretched around his aching cock, taking all of him like the good girl he knows you are. Your pretty, tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with so much love, and that’s what is his undoing.

You feel it when Joel’s whole body tenses beneath you, fireworks shooting up his spine as he starts to cum with a heavy groan that was lodged deep in his throat. You can’t help but moan around him as he fills your mouth, painting your throat with the hot, salty ropes of his release.

He mutters a string of broken moans, a mixture of curses and grunts of your name as you work him through it. The grip Joel has on your hair starts to lighten up — though, only a bit — but it’s enough for you to pull back on his length a bit to allow your hand to join your mouth in its ministrations. Slowly, but firmly, stroking him and sucking at his cock until you’re sure you’ve swallowed down every drop he has to give you, his stomach practically caving in by the time you’re done with him.

Until he’s reduced to shallow pants and hushed whimpers, Joel’s entire body shuddering as your lips lay one last kiss to his sensitive tip, and he drops an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the now overwhelming light as he takes a few moments to catch his breath.

You let Joel take all the time he needs to recover, carefully tucking his softening length back into his black boxers.

It’s a few minutes before Joel uncovers his eyes, slowly blinking to adjust the the increasing brightness of the hot summer sun shining into the bedroom, and he’d swear you’re an angel, still nestled between his thighs. You’re busy littering the soft, tanned skin of his thighs and his belly in sweet little kisses and love bites when that deep, sleepy morning voices speaks up again.

“Well good mornin’ to you too, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, two strong arms are pulling you up the bed — and up Joel’s body, a firm hand on the nape of your neck pulling you in so he can smash his lips to your puffy ones in a longing, appreciative kiss.

His deft hands then slide down your hips to grab your ass, squeezing at the soft flesh with a groan against your lips, before Joel is flipping the two of you over so he’s now the one hovering over you. A little yelp escapes you, but is quickly transformed into a stifled moan as his lips begin kissing a path down your body, now fully awake and more than ready to return the favor.

⋆ . ˚ ✩

Thank you for reading!! x

1K notes · View notes

ennabear · 1 month ago

Text

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

#inspired by golden age by ethel cain because i can’t write a fic if it’s not based off of one of her songs 😭#ANYWAYS MELVIKA IS HEREEEEE #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #mel medarda #mel medarda arcane #mel arcane #melvika #sevika x mel #sevika x mel medarda #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends

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twirling-twisting · 5 months ago

Text

You've always loved how peaceful the mornings of a session are.

You walk into the office building as if it's a regular work day, eyes a little tired and mind racing with thoughts of what you'll need to do later after your session is done.

You walk to the receptionist (you've become acquainted with them since you've been coming around so often) and they wave at you and give you a pleasant 'hello'. They know what you're here for—there's only one reason people would continually enter this building.

They give you a keycard, smiling as they wave you goodbye, your shoes leaving little clinks as you walk away and towards an elevator.

You press the up arrow button and wait a moment for the elevator to head down. You look around at the decor, noticing a new painting above that old sage green chair you love to sit and wait on when you're extra early.

The ding of the elevator and the swoosh of the door opening takes your attention away, whisking you into its warm walls. You step in and turn around, that card in your hand meeting with a black scanner next to a large amount of buttons. Once you hear a small beep, you push the button you always press.

42.

The doors shut quietly as you move to stand in the middle of the room. You hum a little to yourself, waiting to feel the elevator start to move as a little tune plays on the radio above the buttons.

Then, the intercom turns on. This has always been your favorite part.

A gentle, soft voice greets you kindly.

"Welcome back, dear. It's always lovely to see you."

You hum back gently, already feeling your shoulder relax at the welcome. You belong here.

"How have you been feeling? Have you been drinking enough water and eating properly?"

You nod your head at seemingly no one, staring forward at silver doors that look just a tad too fake to be made of metal. (You can hear a few quiet dings every time you go up a floor).

"I'm so glad to see that, dear."

You can feel a wave of happiness rush over you, a smile adorning your face at the heartfelt pride from the disembodied voice. You've done good.

"Such a cute smile you have. Now, you know the drill, dear."

You do. You've done it so often within the last few months that it's almost second nature.

You continue to stare forward, the doors of the elevator changing color and shape, their once mock metal turning into a sage green with a spiral.

It moves slowly, from the outside inward, drawing you forward into its comforting twirl. You stare directly into the middle of it, eyes unseeing as a few flashes start to appear. (You learned to ignore them — You were never fast enough to read them well any way).

The rest of the walls around you turn into the same spiral, the sage green light making you relax even further into yourself. Your neck slacks a bit, your back hunching forwards as you stare further into the spiral, your jaw unclenches. You feel yourself breathe deeper, each inhale deeper than the last and each exhale making your eyelids heavy.

"That's a good toy."

You hear distantly as your eyes remain locked on the doors infront of you. You stare and stare, those little glimpses of text entering your helpless and open mind. Before you even realize it, there are images that appear with the text.

Obscene imagery flashes on the green, photographs of women getting their brains fucked out, shots of men on their knees with their mouths gagged, and a few images of yourself in positions you love flooding your vision.

You can't seem to get enough.

You feel so aroused and needy, all of the photos willing you to want so badly. You can feel a wetness between your legs and that makes you even hornier.

"Patience."

You hear it just barely, muffled. You whine slightly, making sure you're not moving your hips or biting your lip. "Good toys are patient." You've heard before.

"Only five more floors."

The voice almost whispers, luring your ears to focus more on it.

The spirals continue as you hear those last few dings, and then they fade out, leaving you and your weak body standing alone in the middle of the elevator. A few dim lights that light the bottom trim of the elevator turn on, as the final ding rings and the door mechanisms start to open.

The room it opens to is so warm and cozy, nice and sweet smelling. The aroma hits you instantly.

"There's my toy." Says a familiar voice from behind a computer screen. You can hear a smile in their tone, making your brain fill with happiness and joy.

"Hello, Master," You say joyfully, a new sense of eagerness entering you.

You straighten your back, adjust yourself, and walk out of the elevator and into the big room. You can see it fully now, with the large dark wooden bookcases filled to the brim, you've look at those books and never read one, you're too dumb to— and the gorgeous green couch that sits to one side you've been fucked on that couch so many times, the sight of it makes you want to moan.

And then your eyes meet another's, lit up nicely by a computer screen. They look at you, so loving and kind, and then chuckle as they stand from their comfy office chair you've sucked them off from under that desk more times than you can count.

"Hello, darling. How's my cute little toy?" Master asks, an attractive slyness in their tone.

You look at the ground for a second before looking back up and answering with, "I've been good, Master."

Master looks pleased with that answer, moving to go around the desk and to walk towards you. Once they reach you, their hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, and you can feel yourself melt into the touch. Your eyes roll back slightly, nudging into the hands movement as Master chuckles.

"Very eager today, I see." They say as you continue to nuzzle into their hand. "We'll make sure you don't think for a good while. "

And you don't remember much after that.

When you leave the building, after giving your card back in and walking out the front door, you feel a new sense of purpose while you walk down the street.

Your head offers you, "Good toy," "Fuck, just like that", and "Just a bit more."

You can't wait for your next session.

#hypnosis #twirling twists #hypno toy #gender neutral nsft #mind control #funky elevator??#brainwash

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darlingdekarios · 1 year ago

Text

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

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huggywuggysuppy · 24 days ago

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once you finish Empires S1 i'd like to hear your thoughts about esmp1!gem. she's genuinely one of my favorite characters to analyse because she is so nuanced and interesting in so many ways anywhere you look at her. her twisted determination to achieve peace at ANY cost, her rigid thinking and neurodivergency, her relation with symbols like her tower or the end and the moon, or her genuine wish to be a good person and so many other things. there's so much that is impossible to grasp at first (<- <- me, lesbian who is really normal about her favorite gem)

She's right.

Essentially, Gem understands the role a wizard PLAYS in a story. She's never the cause of something, but she sure amplifies both the problems and the solutions. She's morally gray, she's playing both sides, but nobody ever challenges her on that because of course Gem's helping the heroes too -- they need artifacts! She's a plot device, a questgiver, a weapon. She's the voice of reason, the straight man in any comedy duo, yet makes the same questionable decisions as anyone. She's experimenting, she's out of her comfort zone, she's having the time of her life. Wizard Gem is, ultimately, a real wizard.

That's the short answer anyhow. Longer analysis, well, I'm so glad you asked. I can't talk about character without diving into the content creator metanarrative (feature not a bug) so let's get into the noodles! What about Wizard Gem makes her so fantastic?

Wizard Gem is a catalyst.

From the beginning, Gem is mixing up dynamics and forcing new inspiration by opposing what's static. The way the rest of the Wither Rose Alliance sort of? Molds? Around her. How Sausage and fWhip are beefing until the day she alliances with Pearl and suddenly the four are besties. How she adds moral nuance to the villain side, both by mixing relations with the hero side, and just by insisting the Wither Rose are seeking peace, really, they're trying their best! This stops things from being so cut and dry and basic. Instead of Xornoth's vain forces against the heroic bumbling fish people (with the plant and animal empires in between), there's all sorts of messiness and drama. And Gem's aware of this, of how she's changing things, and so the effect is amplified.

On a CC level, even her origins are experimental. Gem was originally planning a more naturey plant wizard, but since Shubble, Katherine, AND Pearl, were plant based (& arguably Joey too) she adapted into amethyst and rocks. And it turned out amazing! That foundation of experimenting made it easier to take larger risks both content and character wise. All the empires folk enjoyed the lore centric storytelling: only getting deeper into it through the season, but Gem especially paved the way for embracing rp and outfits and items and fun.

But back to C! As the Wither Rose alliance progresses, terrorizing the server included, Gem maintains her peace loving stance. Taking on the role as fWhip's (and later Sausage)'s PR managers is genuinely so important to me. She never really stops them from doing bad things, but she's always discouraging them and talking them down one or two degrees. Ultimately loyal to her alliance, she's also taking responsibility for the consequences. Helping out Jimmy behind the scenes to lessen the blow, both for him but also herself.

At her core, Wizard Gem wants peace.

For herself and friends at least. Unfortunately, the Crystal Cliffs aren't in a bubble, so she keeps having to save the world anyway. She dreads conflict at best and fears it at worst. Her concerns are her kingdom, her neighbors, whatever magic / building she's invested in right now, and maybe a light shenanigan here or there. She'll help fWhip get out of trouble because they really do love each other, he's always helping her out too in his own ways (ex: making her stuff,) and she'll protect the realm so the problems stay far away from their doorsteps. When things do eventually fall into her lap, she definitely deals with them. Just... not 100%. Enough that they stop breaking the peace for now.

Let's be honest, Wizard Gem is firmly in denial. She's down for burying the corruption and letting it claim whole towers of her base. Often she'll just accept whatever another player brings to her: buying Scott and Katherines plush, whatever weird scams Lizzie tries on her, etc. When Scott gives her the Elsa curse, she hangs out in the nether, takes Shrub’s dodgy Xornoth cure, and stubbornly "it's fine"-s her way through avoiding a real solution until fWhip drags her to Katherine. It's telling that her (short-lived) corrupted evil version is more confident, while others become hyper or angry. This isn't laziness: it's fear. She doesn't want to step on any toes and start any conflicts. You can see it in how she talks to Jimmy and fWhip: giving them what they need not to win, but to end things.

This is how Gem maintains the story role of a wizard: she's always trying to stop things, so she's never starting new things, only making them better or worse. But how does Gem get away with it? She's simultaneously one of the most invested players in the lore, yet playing a character who'd rather be anywhere else. That dichotomy is entertaining, sure, but there's something else here.

Wizard Gem is loyal, curious, and moral. Just... not obviously.

Gem is unfathomably loyal. While she plays both sides, she's always standing alongside her allies in battle and all her actions are ensuring they're safe. She may be exasperated, yet treats her immediate alliance members with kindness. How fWhip drags her into things, but he never asks her to, it's always Gem CHOOSING to follow him because what else is she gonna do? Let him do it himself? How Sausage makes her laugh with his absurdity, even when they're fighting. How she's always a little uncomfortable, even in her great empire, except in the quiet simple moments with her allies between schemes.

(Still can’t believe roseblings isn’t canon. Like fWhip’s line about how he blew up relations with Scott because he messed with Gem, "it's okay fWhip I'm fine now," their tones, ohhhh devious work. They don't need to be canon, nonfamilial platonic relationships and all that, but STILL. I'm only human.)

Gem's also invested in magic and learning more about it, and she learns to trust and share that with others. The Crystal Cliffs Academy demonstrates growth: from solving problems herself when they’re too big to ignore, to actually addressing things at the source. Explicitly, the goal is to strengthen other empires magic knowledge so less crises happen. That’s preventative instead of reactionary. Even choosing the Ocean Queen as her first student is intentional: not an ally, causes a lot of medium scale ruckuses, in text Gem sensed her using transformation magic that wasn’t hers and wanted to guide Lizzie towards at least controlling it. Start of season Gem would’ve just kept handling any crises herself.

Essentially, Gem is trying SO HARD to be good. As anon said, she has a sort of rigid thinking (again, fun contrast between CC experimental and C rigidity) that creates this fantastic mix where she's staying true to the Wither Rose because she loves them and wants to keep them safe as their friend, but also trying to act for the greater good as a wizard, even though she'd rather focus on her own things. It's not a stable point of view, and is constantly challenged, creating the amazing series of events that we get to see unfold.

Also, Wizard Gem is straight up cool.

Regarding imagery, Wizard Gem has a distinct style that’s so fun to build and draw and write about. She's magical and otherworldly (dragons, the end) but also ethereal and magnificent on a human scale (towers, the moon.) Amethyst itself is inherently unique: something about forming deep under pressure, growing slow and beautiful, sought after as thrones and paths alike. These aesthetics have infinite storytelling potential, and look cute doing it.

And all these things are carried into Gem’s imagery as a whole! Losing her eye to and getting corrupted by the end portal in Life Series, building dragons and towers and villages all across her mc worlds, often using the moon in builds like her hc10 lighthouse. She’s solidly the moon in shinyduo sun/moon dynamic (while they both employ sun/moon all the time, Pearl builds and lores solidly more sun, let alone their comedy dynamic.) Even the struggle between embracing/chasing excellence versus holding herself back out of fear: that's Gem in every world! Emp1 is combining a lot of Gem's themes into one single character. And turns out she's really awesome!

This character wholeness lets Gem maintain her signature exasperated excellence over the other players. Like PVP prowess and building skill, she's an expert here too, and delightful to watch and interact with. Wizard Gem is amplifying everything, trying to keep her loved ones safe, learning that she needs to make peace herself, all while staying true to her beautiful masterful self.

Finally, CC!Gem is delighted to roleplay like this.

Every time she turns to the camera to give disclaimers and talk about her character, there's an infectious joy and "I can't believe this is my job." She often compares it to D&D, which ohh the parasocial brainrot is taking so normally, but also there's an unapologeticness to it. If you don't like her character / the roleplay / etc, stop watching, whatever, this is fun for the rest of us. Her and other CCs have talked about the crippling pushback from playing antagonistic characters -- and there's no shortage of that in emp1, she has to put disclaimers on the RP portions! But unlike Life Series where she's constantly fighting demons (it's own post, really) Wizard Gem is having too much fun to care. I think that's why emp1 hits different, at least for us Gem girlies. She's taking this seriously, and she's having the time of her life.

I originally posted about Worldhopper/Watcher Gem because that adds an extra layer of spice to her in all series, but it's still really awesome by itself. Summoning the dragons from ANOTHER WORLD? Hello?? Don't think I missed her using the nether portal to change skins either. Giggling during convos with Xornoth, undaunted by the Empires Crown, the list goes on. One day someone will assemble all her characters into the same room to compare notes and that someone will either be me or Geminitay herself.

In short, Empires S1 Gem is a Wizard. She's a catalyst, she ultimately wants peace, she's loyal curious and moral, she's straight up cool, and she's having fun. And isn't that just the most magical joy of all?

Anyway, accepting empires fic recommendations in reblogs / directly into my inbox. What a privilege to get to watch so much great art. Thank you for reading!

#geminitay #analysis #empires s1 #wizard gem appreciation post #let gem rp whatever she wants petition starting here #let her be morally ambiguous and experiment and wrong sometimes and brilliant other times and let her be happy #trafficblr #ask #no wonder they keep referencing emp1. it's still peak #also watched pearl. lizzie. joel. and some scott. so worth it #it's insane how much emp1 is like. the prototype for the next few years of content.#so many bits may not have begun here but they sure were refined #investing in a purple wizard hat and green cloak after this. mcyt does strange things to the mind #empires smp

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beautifulsenpai · 1 year ago

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Endeavor , Shoto, Natsuo & Dabi x Dilf Male Reader. Male Reader Has Some Nice Man Tits 😍Male Reader Has All Of Them Wrap Around His Pretty Finger, And They Don’t Know That He’s Cheating With Them With Each Other. Please Make Some Smutty Stuff With Each Of Them 😩

HOT DILF | 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗂, 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗈, 𝖽𝖺𝖻𝗂 & 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈 𝗑 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

summary | 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 (𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾) 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌.

fandom | 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖺 (𝖻𝗇𝗁𝖺)

genre | 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐

tw/cw | 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗃𝗈𝖻𝗌, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺

author’s note | 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇? 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀

𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌/𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌

Enji Todoroki:

endeavor was thankful that no one in the building of his hero agency could hear (name’s) delightful moans and whines from inside his office. if anyone had walked inside of his office, seeing the both of you go at it, he would’ve never left his office ever again.

(name) kept bouncing up, and down on endeavor’s big meaty cock as endeavor sat on his luxury sofa, enjoying the lil performance from (name).

he couldn’t keep his eyes away from (name’s) naughty outfit. (name) was wearing such a revealing maid outfit, the maid skirt was too short, revealing his plump ass, a maid head peace, and a black bra that show his perfect man tits.

his man tits could bring any woman to shame. he loved how every time he bounced on his cock, they would jiggle. his breasts is one of endeavor’s favorite part of his body. his head rolled back as well as his eyes, he held back a moan as (name’s) velvety walls squeezed his cock lusciously.

(name’s) hands gripped onto endeavor’s shoulder, mouth agape as moans spill out every time he bounced down onto his cock. (name) looked down at endeavor, looking at his pathetic state.

(name) took pleasure in seeing endeavor’s bliss state. he loved how he could make a big strong man crumble right under his finger. “o-oh master!!~~ your cock!! so big!!~~”. (name) moaned right next to his ear, his eyes squinted with tears.

it was true though, he never had such a large cock inside of him before. (name) gently closed his eyes as he started pampering endeavor’s face with kisses. endeavor shut his eyes with his mouth, he was too embarrassed to see himself in this state.

“shut your mouth boy.” endeavor murmured, a low groan left his mouth, and another one left his mouth..and another. the pleasure was too much for him, how (name’s) velvety walls clenched his cock, like it didn’t want his cock to leave his insides.

endeavor was delighted to have found someone as (name), so beautiful, so irresistible. (name) only belonged to him, heh, what a joke.

endeavor was close, he was releasing low moans non-stop, (name) noticed and he was close as well. endeavor kept leaking inside of him, squelching could be heard inside the room. it coated endeavor’s cock pretty well, making him go in at ease.

he halted his movements as he rested his head on endeavor’s shoulder. “you wanna cum?? wanna fill me up with your delicious semen??” (name) teased, he couldn’t help but giggle as he watched enji nod his head pathetically.

“well then, breed me master. release your cum inside of me please!!~ i want it inside of me!”. (name) begged. after those words left his mouth, endeavor didn’t hesitate to grab (name’s) hips, and forcefully make him ride him at a fast pace.

(name) wrapped his arms around endeavor’s head, moaning lustfully, loud as well. (name’s) cock started leaking, he was so close. it felt too good. “yes! yes! yes!!~ feels good!!~”. (name) started blabbering nonsense, the pleasure taking affect on him.

endeavor hummed, he agreed, it did feel good. his fingernails dug into (name) hips, making him mewl. oh god, he feels like he’s gonna explode. “i-i’m gonna-” endeavor didn’t even finish what he was gonna say.

endeavor let out a low, long moan. he slammed (name’s) hips down for one final time before releasing his thick, warm cum inside of (name). (name) whined out loud at the feeling, his head shot up as ropes of cum released from his cock.

cum overflowed inside of (name), it was too much. it quickly leaked out of (name’s) hole, trailing down endeavor’s cock. (name) felt dizzy, his head fell right onto endeavor’s shoulder again.

they both just sat there, breathing heavily from one of there best organisms in their life. a smile slowly crept onto (name’s) face, he kissed endeavor’s cheek..

“y-you did so good for me baby.” (name) muttered..

𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈 𝖳𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗂:

you wouldn’t believe that (name) would be on his knees, sucking a high schooler cock, someone that is WAY younger than him. it didn’t matter to (name) anyway.

shoto whimpered as (name’s) tongue trailed down from the tip of his cock to his balls. (name) 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗅𝖿𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁, 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 on 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 started jerking his cock, up and down, how pathetic how he started leaking already from his tip.

shoto never felt this sensation before, never had anyone to love or do this to him, until (name) showed up in his life. shoto shut his eyes as he covered his mouth with both of his hands so he could freely whimper as much as he wanted to with no one hearing.

(name’s) mouth released shoto’s testicles, his balls coated with saliva. he looked right up at shoto. he grinned at the sight of shoto, it was obvious that shoto was enjoying this, and he took pride in it.

“shoto~ you look so cute like that!! does it feel amazing love??~”. (name) purred, he watched as shoto nodded frantically with his hands still covering his mouth. it made (name) feel great.

(name) smirked, his mouth wrapped around the tip of shoto’s cock, swirling his tongue around, lapping all the pre-cum that leaked out. shoto shuddered, that tongue of (name’s) felt remarkable.

(name) slowly took all of him in, until his nose reached shoto’s pelvis, making shoto tremble from the feeling of (name’s) hot mouth surrounding him.

it didn’t take long for (name) to bob his head up, and down on his cock. pre-cum leaked from shoto’s dick inside of (name’s) mouth, (name) would swallow it up, moaning from the delicious taste.

shoto would let out soft moans from (name’s) warm mouth. saliva coated his cock, and dripped from (name’s) chin, down to the floor beneath him. shoto’s cock throbbed, and twitched from the pleasure he was receiving, indicating he was close to his climax.

i don’t know what came over shoto, but he clenched (name’s) hair, and pulled him down onto his cock, making (name) gag. shoto let out one last delightful moan before releasing his sperm into (name’s) mouth, it went straight down (name’s) throat.

shoto released (name’s), (name) slowly pulled away from shoto’s cock, making sure his spunk was all in his mouth. he came off from shoto’s cock with a pop. shoto stared down at (name) in a daze.

(name) look up at shoto with a lustful gaze, hearts as pupils, his mouth agape as all of shoto’s cum resting on his tounge. he swirled it around before swallowing. (name) let out a giggle, “your cum’s thick shoto~ it tasted amazing!~”.

Dabi:

“oh g-god!~ yes! yes! yes!~” (name) moaned with delight as dabi’s cock hit the special spot inside of him. eyes rolled back, shirt discarded, pants and underwear dropped to the floor a lustful smile with drool trailing down from his chin, and face pressed against the wall of the alleyway.

(name) gripped onto the wall as his back is arched, giving dabi access to fuck him easily. dabi hands arms wrapped around his chest, his hands clinging onto his man tits, twisting and pinching his nipples, making it more pleasurable.

dabi cackled from the drunken state (name) was in. dabi fucked (name) like a dog in heat, it felt good to be inside his bitch.

poor bystanders that happen to pass the alleyway. dabi’s hands trailed from his chest to (name’s) hips, gripping onto them roughly, making (name) let out a pathetic whine.

dabi rested his chin onto (name’s) shoulder, groaning roughly near (name’s) ear, making sure (name) hear how good he’s making him feel.

(name) pushed himself back to meet dabi’s thrust on sync, dabi noticed, making him grin wickedly. “such a needy little thing, aren’t you?~”, (name) nodded desperately.

“god, you feel amazing. mine..your mine, mine only. got it? no one else can have you.” no, (name) didn’t belong to him, he didn’t belong to endeavor, shoto, or natsuo. but of course, he wants to make each of them believe that.

“mhm! i’m yours!~ only yours!~” (name) cried out, eyes shut tightly as (name) lied through his perfect white teeth. dabi loved that answer, so he sped his thrusts, (name’s) hole leaking from pre-cum, squelching noisily.

dabi’s cock kept jabbing his prostate over, and over again, (name’s) hole clenching his cock, making both of them close to their release. (name’s) hands clenching the wall before him harder, he felt like he was gonna explode.

their moans loader every second. “you take me so well, love. now, take my load you whore.”

Natsuo:

there are some pros for being natsuo’s professor in his college. like after classes, (name) will give him full access to fucking him when all the students left when he feels stressed out that’s related to school work or family problems.

(name’s) back was rested on his desk, his clothes from the waist down were thrown away, and his shirt wrinkled up above his man tits as they bounced up, and down from natsuo’s cock thrusting in him.

(name’s) held his knees against his chest, hands holding the back of his knees. natsuo’s hands gripping the desk from the sides of (name’s) head. it was a big pro that natsuo was taller than (name).

natsuo body hovered over (name’s) body, and they both stared at each other. natsuo’s face flushed as he breathed, in and out. he could almost release his seed inside of (name) from looking at (name’s) lustful gaze.

he could see (name’s) pupils turned into hearts, face flushed red, mouth agape, tongue out, moaning repeatedly. natsuo was so pent up that he wanted to release his frustrations onto you.

natsuo quickly leaned down towards (name) as he attached his mouth to (name’s). the both of them didn’t hesitate to tangle their tongues together, fighting for dominance, but natsuo easily won.

they broke the kiss after a while, a thin line of saliva connecting from their lips. natsuo started moaning near (name’s) ear as he kept forcing his cock into (name’s) tight hole. “fuck! fuck! fuck! this feels so good! keep going! don’t stop please!”

(name) whined, his arms wrapping around natsuo’s neck, and legs wrapping around natsuo’s hips. natsuo obliged with his request so he didn’t stop his rapid thrusting.

“i love you so much (name)..so, so much. you have no idea how much i wanted this..” natsuo grunted, he started to blabber out nonsense, like he was in a trance. his hands placed onto (name’s) hips, forcing him down onto his cock harshly, making (name) cry out every time he was forced down onto his cock.

(name’s) cock slapping against his stomach started to leak, natsuo sped up his thrusting, signaling they were both close to their release. (name) arched his back as natsuo’s tip rubbed onto (name’s) prostate.

natsuo held onto (name) close, eyes shut tightly, teeth gritted, he was gonna release. “gonna cum- god, i’m going to fucking ruin your insides. oh fuck- i’m cumming!”

𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌!

#x male reader #male reader #bottom male reader #x bottom male reader #mha x male reader #bnha x male reader #my hero academia x male reader #boku no hero hero x male reader #endeavor x male reader #enji todorki x male reader #todorki x male reader #shoto todoroki x male reader #dabi x male reader #toya todoroki x male reader #natsuo x male reader #natsuo todoroki x male reader

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dreamersworldduh · 21 days ago

Text

A MUCH NEEDED BREAK

• MECHANIC! TOM HOLLAND x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Tom, a dedicated workaholic striving to save for a dream home for you both, often struggled to balance his demanding schedule with your relationship. Despite never losing your spark, the intimacy and connection you shared had been overshadowed by his relentless focus on work. So you plan a much-needed vacation with hopes that Tom would rediscover the importance of these moments together.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! We all know Tom is a taken man, but a guy can sure dream—you see what I did there, heh?…okay sorrry—I have a few more works coming out today so be on the lookout. Happy reading😉✨

Vacations play a vital role in preserving and improving your mental well-being, acting as a much-needed pause from the demands of daily life. They serve as a true reset button, offering an opportunity to recharge, refocus, and restore balance to your mind and body. This belief has been a cornerstone of your personal philosophy, one you've adhered to faithfully since the moment you could finally afford to indulge in the luxury of stepping away from your routine. Whether it's the peaceful solitude of a mountain retreat, the invigorating energy of a bustling city, or the restorative calm of a beachside escape, you've come to recognize that these breaks are not just indulgences—they are essential investments in your overall health and happiness. Each trip reinforces the idea that taking time for yourself isn't a selfish act but a necessary one, providing the clarity and renewal needed to return to life's challenges with fresh perspective and vitality.

However, convincing your workaholic boyfriend, Tom Holland, to take a break is no easy task. In this universe, Tom is a dedicated mechanic, pouring his heart and soul into his craft. He spends countless hours working late into the night, his hands perpetually smeared with grease, his mind focused on perfecting his trade. His determination stems from a deeply personal goal—he's tirelessly saving up to buy the two of you a home, a place where you can finally start the next chapter of your lives together. For the past five years, the two of you have shared a cozy but cramped apartment, its worn furniture and limited space serving as both a testament to your love and a reminder of the life you're working so hard to build. Tom's commitment to making that dream a reality often leaves little room for leisure, and while his passion and ambition are admirable, they make the task of persuading him to step away from his tools and take a well-deserved break a monumental challenge. Yet, you know that even the most driven hearts need rest, and you're determined to show him that taking a moment to recharge won't just benefit him—it'll strengthen the bond you've built together.

As his boyfriend, you see it as your responsibility—and privilege—to take care of him, even though his stubborn nature often makes it a challenge. Tom is fiercely independent, always insisting he can handle everything on his own, whether it's working late into the night at the garage or pushing through exhaustion without so much as a second thought. He's the type of person who bottles up his stress, brushes off his fatigue, and says, "I'm fine," even when it's clear he's running on empty. But you know him better than anyone, and you've learned to read between the lines, catching the subtle signs of wear and tear he tries so hard to hide.

So, you take it upon yourself to step in where he won't. You make sure he eats proper meals, often sneaking into the garage to leave a container of his favorite food on his workbench when he's too focused to come home for dinner. You remind him to take breaks, offering a gentle touch on his shoulder or a softly spoken, "You've been at this for hours—come sit with me for a bit." When he comes home late, tired and quiet, you're there with a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a patient ear, ready to listen if he feels like venting or simply offering him the comforting silence he sometimes needs.

Even when his stubbornness leads to little arguments—like when he refuses to rest because "there's too much to do"—you approach him with understanding, knowing his determination comes from a place of love and a desire to build a better life for the two of you. Taking care of him isn't always easy, but it's never a burden. For every moment you spend looking out for him, there's an unspoken bond of trust and affection, a quiet acknowledgment that while he may be strong and independent, he doesn't have to carry the weight of everything alone. That's what love is to you—being there for him, even when he's too stubborn to ask for it.

When it came to planning your much-needed vacation, Tom always found a way to back out at the last minute. He'd come up with a list of reasons why he couldn't go—there was always too much work at the garage, or he couldn't afford to lose even a single day of income. He'd argue that the house fund was more important than a frivolous trip, or that he simply didn't have the time to take off. No matter how hard you tried to explain how important it was for both of you to get away and recharge, Tom's stubborn streak always seemed to win.

But this time, you weren't taking no for an answer. The two of you had been running on fumes lately, and you could see the toll it was taking on him—his late nights were getting later, his shoulders carried an almost permanent slump, and even his usual spark seemed dimmer than before. You knew he needed this break just as much as you did, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. So, you resolved to convince him, no matter how much effort it took.

You started small, casually dropping hints about how much you missed spending uninterrupted time together. Then, you tried tugging at his heartstrings by reminiscing about your last trip years ago, reminding him how happy and carefree you'd both been. When that didn't work, you brought out the big guns, printing out detailed itineraries, showing him pictures of the serene beaches or lush mountains you'd chosen as your destination, and emphasizing how affordable and manageable it would be. You even promised to handle all the planning, from booking the flights to packing his suitcase, so he wouldn't have to lift a finger.

Still, when his resolve didn't crack, you got creative. You started pointing out how a few days off could actually make him more productive in the long run, explaining that even the hardest workers needed to step away to recharge. You even enlisted a few allies—his coworkers, who teased him about being a workaholic, and mutual friends who told him how much they admired your determination to get him to relax. Slowly but surely, you chipped away at his excuses, all while reminding him how much this time together would mean to you.

By the end, you were ready to pull out every persuasive trick in the book if you had to. You weren't just fighting for a vacation—you were fighting for a chance to reconnect, to remind him (and yourself) that there's more to life than work. You loved him too much to let him keep running himself into the ground, and you were determined to prove that this getaway wasn't a luxury—it was a necessity.

As the two of you got ready for bed, you decided it was time to escalate your efforts to convince Tom. You had tried every rational argument, every heartfelt plea, but nothing had managed to crack his resolve. Now, standing there watching him pull off his shirt and climb into bed, looking both exhausted and irresistibly handsome, you realized it was time to deploy your ace in the hole—a very dirty trick.

Sliding under the covers, you waited until he settled in, propped up slightly against the headboard, flipping through his phone with that furrowed look of focus that never really left him. You shifted closer, the movement catching his attention. Before he could ask what you were up to, you straddled his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. Tom glanced up at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your thighs.

"Babe," he started, his tone light but skeptical, "what are you—"

You cut him off with a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, your arms slipping around his shoulders as you leaned in closer. His breath hitched slightly when your lips trailed down to his neck, brushing against his skin with a teasing gentleness. "Shh," you murmured, your voice low and sultry. "Just relax."

You could feel the tension in his body start to melt away under your touch as you peppered soft kisses along his neck, lingering in all the spots you knew drove him crazy. His hands tightened slightly on your thighs, and you smiled against his skin, knowing you had his full attention now. Tilting your head so your lips brushed his ear, you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction, "I've been thinking... We've been so busy lately, we haven't had time for ourselves. No time to unwind, no time to really... connect. Don't you think we deserve a little escape?"

His breathing grew heavier as your words sank in, your fingers tangling gently in the hair at the nape of his neck. "A few days away," you continued, your tone promising and tempting, "just you and me. No schedules, no distractions. Just us... making up for all the time we've missed. You know, we haven't had a night like that in weeks."

Tom let out a soft groan, his resolve clearly wavering as his hands slid to your waist. "You're not playing fair," he muttered, his voice low and tinged with a mixture of amusement and surrender.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, giving him your most innocent smile, even as your fingers traced lazy circles against his shoulders. "I'm not trying to play fair," you admitted, leaning in to kiss him again, this time with more intent. "I'm trying to remind you how much we need this. How much you need this."

For a moment, he said nothing, his hands tightening around your waist as if debating whether to argue or give in. But as his lips found yours again, and the tension between you melted into something far more enticing, you knew your plan was working. This vacation wasn't just going to happen—it was going to be unforgettable.

After finally convincing Tom the night before, you wasted no time putting your plan into motion. By the time morning rolled around, the sun streaming faintly through the curtains, you were already perched at the edge of the bed with your laptop open, typing away with a victorious grin on your face. Tom, still half-asleep, shuffled around the room, pulling on his usual work clothes—his favorite pair of oil-stained jeans and a simple gray t-shirt—while glancing at you with a mix of amusement and resignation.

"You're really not wasting any time, are you?" he teased, his voice still a little raspy from sleep as he combed his fingers through his messy hair.

"Absolutely not," you replied, barely looking up from the screen. "If I wait too long, you might change your mind, and I am not letting that happen."

Tom chuckled softly, shaking his head as he reached for his boots. "I already said yes, didn't I? I'm not going back on it. Besides," he added, his tone softening as he glanced at you, "you're right. We could both use this."

That little admission only fueled your excitement. You scrolled through the options for flights, carefully comparing departure times and prices, wanting everything to be perfect. Within minutes, you had selected the ideal tickets—just enough time for him to take a few days off without feeling guilty, but long enough for the two of you to truly unwind. With a quick click, the flights were booked, and you moved on to the next task: excursions.

You could hear Tom moving around in the background, the faint clink of his belt buckle as he fastened it and the shuffle of his boots as he laced them up. Occasionally, he'd glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow at your excited mutterings about snorkeling tours, hiking trails, or couples' massages. "What are you looking at now?" he asked, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

"Excursions," you said brightly, turning the screen toward him to show a list of options. "What do you think about ziplining? Or maybe a sunset dinner cruise?"

He smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "Whatever you want, babe. This is your thing—you're the planner."

You stuck your tongue out at him playfully but couldn't hide your excitement. "It's our thing, Tom. I want it to be perfect for both of us."

With that, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at you. "Just don't forget to pack my stuff, okay? I'm trusting you to handle all this."

“Oh, don't worry," you called after him with a laugh. "I've got it all covered. You just focus on work, and I'll take care of the rest."

As the door closed behind him, you turned your attention back to the screen, your heart racing with anticipation. The flights were booked, the itinerary was coming together, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you and Tom had something to look forward to—something that was just for the two of you.

After carefully packing up your clothes and Tom's, you took a step back to survey the neatly arranged suitcases, making sure everything was perfectly in order. You'd spent the better part of the afternoon methodically folding and organizing, making sure no detail was overlooked. Tom's favorite worn flannels and comfortable jeans were folded neatly alongside the dressier outfits you'd picked for special evenings out. You even tucked in the t-shirts he always insisted on bringing, despite your protests that they weren't "vacation material."

Your own wardrobe was just as carefully selected, with outfits planned for every scenario—sun-drenched mornings, adventurous afternoons, and romantic dinners under the stars. Each piece was neatly rolled to maximize space, and you couldn't resist slipping in a couple of matching outfits for fun, imagining the two of you strolling together in perfect harmony.

Next to the clothes, you double-checked the small toiletry bag, making sure you'd packed everything from toothbrushes and deodorant to sunscreen and after-sun lotion. You even included a first-aid kit, knowing Tom would roll his eyes at the extra precaution but secretly appreciate your foresight if it came in handy.

In the side pockets of the suitcase, you stashed smaller essentials: chargers for your phones, Tom's favorite pair of earbuds, a paperback novel you'd been meaning to finish, and a travel-size bottle of cologne that always made your heart skip a beat when Tom wore it.

Finally, you zipped the bags closed and placed them by the door, double-checking your checklist to make sure nothing had been forgotten. Passports? Check. Plane tickets? Double check. Hotel reservation confirmation? Safely saved on your phone and printed out as a backup. You even made sure to tuck a surprise gift for Tom—a sleek pair of sunglasses you knew he'd love—into one of the outer pockets.

Standing back to admire your handiwork, you felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you. Everything was perfectly planned, packed, and ready to go. Now all that was left was to convince Tom to stop double-checking his work schedule and fully embrace the idea of relaxing for a few days. You smiled to yourself, knowing that once you got him on that plane, he'd realize you'd thought of everything—and you couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he finally let go and started enjoying the vacation you'd worked so hard to make special.

The plane ride to the island passed in a blur of excitement and anticipation. The steady hum of the engines blended with the soft chatter of other passengers, but your focus was entirely on Tom. Seated next to you, he had finally started to unwind, his gaze fixed on the view outside the small airplane window. The turquoise ocean stretched out endlessly below, dotted with tiny islands fringed by white sand beaches. You caught the way his lips curved into a faint smile as he took it all in, his shoulders relaxing just a little more with every passing mile.

By the time the plane touched down and you stepped onto the warm tarmac, the reality of your getaway began to sink in. The air was rich with the scent of salt and tropical flowers, and the cheerful sound of island music greeted you as you made your way to the car waiting to take you to the villa. Tom, ever curious, rolled down the window almost immediately as you drove, leaning out slightly to get a better view of the island. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, and colorful markets flashed by, filled with locals selling fresh fruit and handmade crafts. You couldn't help but smile as you saw the light in his eyes—a rare moment where he wasn't thinking about work or responsibilities but was simply enjoying the moment.

When you finally pulled up to the villa, even you were struck by its beauty. Nestled in a secluded part of the island, it looked like something out of a dream. The villa's white walls gleamed in the sunlight, accented by soft blue shutters that mirrored the ocean beyond. A wraparound porch offered a breathtaking view of the private beach, and an infinity pool sparkled invitingly just steps away from the front door. Tom climbed out of the car, taking it all in with wide eyes, and for a moment, he seemed completely at a loss for words.

That moment didn't last long, though. As the driver helped unload your luggage, Tom turned to you, his brows furrowing slightly. "Okay, this place is amazing, but... how much did this cost?" he asked, his tone both curious and concerned, his practical nature kicking in as usual. "This doesn't exactly look budget-friendly."

You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms around his waist with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about that," you said softly, your voice steady and calm. "This is our time to relax, Tom. I've got it all covered, and I promise, it's worth every penny."

His expression wavered between skepticism and gratitude, but you could see him starting to soften. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone quieter now.

“I'm absolutely sure," you said, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "You work so hard, and we deserve this. Let me take care of you for a change, okay?"

He finally nodded, letting out a small sigh as he pulled you into a hug. "You're too good to me," he murmured against your hair, and you could feel the tension starting to leave his body.

With his concerns temporarily set aside, you led him inside the villa, watching as his eyes lit up again at the sight of the spacious living area, the luxurious bedroom, and the stunning ocean views from every window. As he wandered out onto the porch to admire the beach, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. This was exactly what you had envisioned—a chance for both of you to escape, recharge, and enjoy each other's company without a single worry in the world.

The day was warm and golden as you and Tom set out to explore the island, the excitement of being in such a beautiful place pulling both of you from the comfort of the villa. With a map in hand and a sense of adventure in your hearts, you set off, eager to see all the island had to offer. The winding paths led you past lush greenery and vibrant bursts of tropical flowers, their sweet scent hanging in the air. Birds sang softly in the trees, and every now and then, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore reminded you that paradise was all around.

Your first stop was a charming village tucked away from the main tourist areas. The cobblestone streets were lined with colorful markets and cheerful vendors selling handmade jewelry, woven baskets, and fresh fruit that smelled so sweet and ripe you couldn't resist buying some. Tom was fascinated, picking up trinkets and asking the vendors questions about how they made their goods. You snapped candid pictures of him, capturing the way his face lit up when he tried on a handmade hat or laughed at his own attempts to haggle over a carved wooden figurine.

From there, the two of you ventured to a historical lighthouse perched high on a cliff, its weathered white facade standing proud against the bright blue sky. The climb to the top was steep, but the breathtaking view made every step worth it. The entire island spread out beneath you, a stunning mix of emerald greenery, sparkling turquoise waters, and soft sandy beaches. Tom couldn't stop snapping pictures, alternating between capturing the scenery and stealing moments to take photos of you when you weren't looking. "You're the real view here," he said with a wink, making you laugh and roll your eyes, though your cheeks warmed at his words.

As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you returned to the villa hand in hand, both of you pleasantly tired from the day's adventures. The scent of the ocean grew stronger as you walked up the path, the sound of waves lapping gently at the shore greeting you like an old friend. Inside, you both took a moment to rest, sipping cool water and scrolling through the pictures you'd taken, laughing at the silly ones and marveling at the more artistic shots Tom had managed to capture.

Then it was time to prepare for the evening—a romantic dinner that you'd been looking forward to all day. You showered first, letting the warm water wash away the salt and sand from your skin, while Tom lounged on the porch, enjoying the sunset. When it was his turn, you laid out his clothes—a crisp button-down shirt and lightweight slacks you'd packed specifically for the occasion—and slipped into your own outfit, something simple yet elegant that you knew he'd love.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and looking effortlessly handsome in the clothes you'd picked, you were ready, standing by the window and admiring the last rays of sunlight. His eyes swept over you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "You look amazing," he said, his voice low and sincere, as he stepped closer to take your hand.

"And you clean up pretty well yourself," you teased, though the warmth in your voice betrayed just how much you meant it.

As evening fell, you and Tom made your way to the villa's elegant restaurant, a hidden gem nestled along the edge of the property with breathtaking views of the ocean. The path was softly lit by flickering lanterns, and the sound of waves gently crashing against the shore set the perfect backdrop for the night ahead. Tom held your hand as you walked, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, a quiet smile on his face that matched the relaxed atmosphere you both felt after a day of exploring.

When you arrived, the hostess greeted you warmly and led you to a private table on the outdoor terrace. The table was beautifully arranged with a crisp white tablecloth, a centerpiece of tropical flowers, and candles that cast a soft, golden glow against the surrounding darkness. Overhead, the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds, and the moon's silvery light reflected off the ocean, making it seem as if the water shimmered just for you.

Tom pulled out your chair for you, earning an affectionate laugh and a playful comment about how chivalrous he was tonight. He grinned as he took his seat across from you, his hazel eyes glowing in the candlelight. "Only the best for you," he said softly, his voice carrying that genuine warmth that always made your heart skip a beat.

The menu was exquisite, filled with fresh, locally sourced dishes that celebrated the island's flavors. You both took your time deciding, chatting about the highlights of the day as you sipped on chilled wine that the waiter had recommended. Tom couldn't stop talking about the view from the lighthouse, how beautiful it was, though he teased that it didn't compare to how you looked standing there in the sunset. You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but the way he said it—completely sincere—left you smiling.

When the food arrived, it was nothing short of perfection. Tom had opted for a dish of freshly grilled fish, seasoned with island spices and served alongside roasted vegetables, while you chose a decadent seafood pasta with a rich, creamy sauce. The flavors were bold yet comforting, each bite better than the last. Between bites, you stole glances at Tom, marveling at how the soft candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his face, the relaxed smile that hadn't left his lips all evening.

As the meal went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—dreams of future trips, funny moments from the day, and inside jokes that left you both laughing until your sides hurt. At one point, Tom reached across the table to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in that way that always made your heart flutter. "I'm really glad we're here," he said quietly, his voice low and full of emotion. "I didn't think I needed this, but... I did. Thank you."

His words melted any lingering doubts you'd had about convincing him to take this trip. You squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. "You deserve it, Tom. We both do."

For dessert, you shared a decadent chocolate mousse garnished with fresh berries, laughing as Tom tried to swipe an extra bite with his fork when you weren't looking. The night ended with another glass of wine, the two of you lingering at the table long after the other diners had left, simply enjoying the moment and each other's company. As you walked back to the villa hand in hand, the stars lighting your path, you couldn't help but feel like this night was a dream come true—one you'd never forget.

As you both stepped back into the villa, the warm, dim lighting of the space greeted you, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. The gentle sound of the ocean waves outside the windows mixed with the soft hum of the villa's ambiance, wrapping the moment in serenity. You barely had time to set your belongings down before Tom turned to you, his hazel eyes dark with a mix of affection and desire.

Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall carelessly to the back of a nearby chair. His hands, calloused but gentle, found your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could speak, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was deliberate, slow, as though savoring every second.

"You looked so beautiful tonight," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and slightly husky. His words, combined with the warmth of his breath, made your heart race. His hands tightened slightly at your waist, anchoring you to him as he pressed another kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath your jawline.

"Tom," you whispered, your voice catching slightly, both a question and an invitation. He responded with a soft hum, the vibrations resonating against your skin as his lips continued their journey. The day's adventures, the romantic dinner, the playful teasing—all of it seemed to culminate in this moment, the world outside fading into nothingness.

His kisses grew more purposeful, and one hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "I couldn't stop thinking about this all through dinner," he admitted softly, his tone laced with sincerity and want. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips, though it quickly dissolved into a quiet sigh as he continued his affectionate assault on your neck. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. It was a moment of pure connection, his touch conveying everything words couldn't—love, passion, and the need to simply be close to you.

As his lips trailed upward, brushing against your ear before capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying, you felt yourself melting into him completely. The villa, the ocean, the stars outside—it all seemed to exist solely as a backdrop to this moment, a perfect evening shared with the person you loved more than anything.

Your fingers moved instinctively, sliding up to the buttons of his shirt as his lips lingered on yours. One by one, you undid them, the fabric parting to reveal his toned chest beneath. Your hands brushed against his warm skin, feeling the strength in his muscles, the subtle rise and fall of his breath quickening under your touch. Tom's eyes darkened with intensity as he pulled back just slightly, giving you a small, teasing smirk that sent a rush of heat through you.

The sound of shoes being kicked off echoed softly against the villa's polished floors as you both shed them without thought, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. The elegant space around you—the plush rug, the glow of soft lanterns, the gentle sound of the ocean beyond—seemed to blur into the background. All that mattered was him, his touch, and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

Without breaking contact, Tom guided you backward, his hands firm yet gentle as they rested on your hips, keeping you close. The back of your knees hit the edge of the couch, and with a shared laugh at the sudden stumble, the two of you sank down together, the leather cool against your skin. Tom hovered over you for a moment, his shirt now hanging open, framing his perfectly sculpted body. His hair was slightly tousled, his lips slightly swollen from the kisses you'd shared, and he looked at you with a mix of mischief and unspoken adoration.

"You're absolutely irresistible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned closer, one hand sliding up to cup your face while the other braced against the couch beside you.

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same about you," you replied, your hands wandering to his now-open shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. The fabric slipped down his arms, revealing the full expanse of his toned chest and strong shoulders, every inch of him a testament to the hours of hard work he put in at the garage. The shirt fell to the floor, forgotten, as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

The couch became your world as the two of you moved together, the weight of the day melting away with every touch, every kiss. It wasn't just passion—it was love, the kind that made everything else seem insignificant compared to the connection you shared in this moment.

As Tom's lips found their way back to your neck, his kisses grew slower, deeper, and more purposeful. Each press of his lips sent waves of warmth coursing through you, making your breath hitch as he lingered on the sensitive spots he knew so well. His hands, warm and steady, moved to your waist, his fingers deftly working to unbuckle your pants. The soft click of the buckle and the gentle tug of the zipper echoed faintly in the quiet villa, the sound mingling with the distant crash of waves outside.

He pressed a kiss just beneath your jawline, his breath warm against your skin as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your briefs. His touch was firm yet deliberate, his fingers curling around your dick with a confidence that sent a shiver through your body. The sensation was electric, making your heart pound as his hand began to move in slow, measured strokes that left you breathless.

"Relax," Tom murmured against your neck, his voice low and filled with a mixture of affection and desire. His lips brushed against your ear as he added teasingly, "Let me take care of you."

His words, combined with the way his hand worked you with perfect rhythm, made it impossible to focus on anything else. You felt the tension leave your body as you melted into his touch, your hands finding their way to his back, clutching at the muscles beneath his warm skin. Every movement, every kiss, every touch was filled with a tenderness that reminded you just how deeply he cared for you.

As his lips continued their trail along your neck, and his hand skillfully worked you into a state of bliss, it became clear that tonight was about more than just passion—it was about love, connection, and the kind of intimacy that only the two of you could share.

Tom pulled away from your neck, his lips lingering for just a moment as his eyes met yours, dark with intent and desire. His hands slid down to your hips, tugging at the waistband of your pants and briefs in one smooth motion. The fabric slid down your thighs, cool air brushing against your now-exposed skin, heightening the electricity in the room.

He sat back slightly, his gaze traveling over you with a mixture of admiration and hunger, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You're gorgeous," he murmured, his voice low and thick with sincerity, as though the words couldn't stay unspoken.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought his hand to his mouth, his tongue slipping out to wet his palm. The deliberate motion sent a shiver through you, your breath hitching as anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach. His fingers glistened as he lathered his hand, the simple act so intimate and unhurried that it made your pulse race.

Tom leaned forward again, his hand finding its place against your dick, the warmth of his touch heightened by the slickness of his spit. His movements were slow at first, testing, teasing, his thumb brushing lightly over your sensitive tip before beginning a steady rhythm. "Better?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a playful edge, though his eyes held nothing but care and focus.

Your head tipped back against the couch, a soft sound escaping your lips as you surrendered completely to the sensation. Tom's free hand rested on your thigh, grounding you, while his touch continued to work its magic. Every stroke was deliberate, every movement sending waves of pleasure through you as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach.

It wasn't just the physical sensation that had you trembling beneath him—it was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, as if every moment was dedicated to showing you just how much he loved you.

Tom's hand slowed, his gaze flickering up to meet yours with a teasing glint in his eyes. Without a word, he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your length, his breath warm and tantalizing against you. His tongue darted out, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from the base to the tip, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

The soft, wet heat of his mouth was almost too much to bear, and before you could stop yourself, a low, breathy moan of his name escaped your lips. Hearing it seemed to spur him on, his lips curving into a small, mischievous smile against your skin.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with playful confidence. He didn't wait for an answer, his tongue flicking over your tip in a way that made your fingers grip the couch beneath you. Every movement was precise, designed to elicit the sweetest sounds from you, and the way he watched your reactions—his eyes dark and full of affection—made it all the more intoxicating.

He took his time, savoring every inch of you, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firmer, more purposeful strokes of his tongue. His hands rested on your hips, steadying you as your body responded to him, every nerve alive with pleasure. With every flick of his tongue, every gentle kiss, he seemed determined to unravel you completely, his name falling from your lips in broken, breathless gasps.

Tom paused for a moment, looking up at you with a smug grin. "You're so responsive," he said, his voice filled with both admiration and amusement. "I could do this all night."

The promise in his words sent another wave of heat through you, leaving you completely at his mercy as he leaned down again, his lips and tongue returning to their task, drawing you closer and closer to the edge with every deliberate, loving movement.

Tom continued to work you with expert precision, his hand gliding along your dick in a rhythm that kept your body humming with pleasure. His lips occasionally brushed against you, teasing you with gentle kisses and flicks of his tongue, as if he was savoring every moment. The warmth of his touch, combined with the wet heat of his mouth, had you gripping the couch beneath you, your breathing uneven and shaky as you struggled to keep yourself grounded.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Tom paused, his hand stilling for a moment as he leaned back slightly. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and intense, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice low and almost a purr. "I'm not done with you yet."

Without breaking eye contact, he lifted two fingers to his mouth, slipping them past his lips. His tongue swirled around them, coating them thoroughly with his saliva in a way that was deliberate and impossibly seductive. You watched, completely captivated, as he pulled them out slowly, the slick sound sending a shiver through you.

His free hand resting firmly on your thigh as he settled closer to you. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his gaze steady, filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Relax," he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, a gentle reminder for you to trust him.

He traced his fingers teasingly against your hole, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. The cool slickness of his touch contrasted with the warmth of his hand on your thigh, grounding you in the moment. Slowly, carefully, he pressed forward, letting his first finger slip past the tight resistance. The sensation was intense at first, but his movements were patient and deliberate, giving you time to adjust.

"Doing okay?" Tom asked softly, his tone full of care as his thumb brushed against your skin in a comforting gesture. When you nodded, he smiled, his confidence growing as he gently moved his finger in and out, his motions slow and exploratory. It wasn't long before he added a second finger, the stretch a little more pronounced, but the way he worked you—gentle and methodical—helped ease the tension.

His movements grew more purposeful, his fingers curling slightly as he explored, searching for the spot that would send you over the edge. When he found it, the jolt of pleasure that shot through you was electric, your body arching involuntarily as a moan of his name escaped your lips. The sound made him grin, a soft chuckle escaping as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth. "There it is," he murmured, his voice warm and teasing.

Tom's fingers continued to work you with precision, his touch filled with a mix of passion and tenderness. Every movement sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily as he watched your reactions, his eyes filled with admiration and love. Each sound you made seemed to spur him on, his fingers pressing and curling just right, making it clear that his only goal was your complete and utter satisfaction.

His other hand moved to the waistband of his pants, and with a practiced ease, he began to push them down, his movements fluid and unhurried.

He shifted slightly, the fabric of his pants and boxers sliding down his hips and pooling at his ankles. The muscles in his toned body flexed with every motion, the candlelight from the villa catching on his skin, highlighting every sharp line and curve. Yet, even as he undressed, his fingers never faltered inside you, maintaining that perfect rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of bliss.

"Keep your eyes on me," Tom murmured, his voice low and rough with desire, his lips curling into a small, teasing smile. He stepped out of the discarded clothing, completely bare now, and the sight of him only added to the heat coursing through you. Every inch of him was breathtaking, from the sharp lines of his jaw to the strength in his frame, and the way his confidence radiated made it impossible to look anywhere else.

His free hand returned to your thigh, his touch grounding and warm as his fingers inside you pressed deeper, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur and your breath catch. "You're so perfect," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your parted lips, his voice laced with adoration. "I could do this forever."

Tom's body hovered close to yours now, his bare skin warm against you as his fingers worked with a precision that left you breathless. The intimacy of the moment—the connection between you—was overwhelming in the best possible way, a perfect mix of passion and love that left no room for anything else but him.

Soon his fingers slowed their motion, his touch deliberate and teasing as he watched your face with a soft smile. He pressed one kiss onto your lips before pulling his fingers out carefully, leaving you with a mix of emptiness and anticipation that made your heart race. His hands moved to your hips, steadying you as he shifted his position, his body close and warm against yours.

His dick, already hard and flushed with arousal, brushed against you, sending sparks of heat through your body. He reached down to guide himself, the tip of his length pressing against your entrance with just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Relax," he murmured again, his voice low and soothing, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've got you."

Without hesitation, Tom pushed forward, sliding into you in one slow, fluid motion. The stretch was intense, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your back arch and your breath hitch. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his hands tightening on your hips as if anchoring himself to you. His head dipped to your shoulder, and you could hear the low groan that escaped his lips, the sound vibrating against your skin as he fought to keep himself steady.

"God," he murmured, his voice husky and strained, "you feel incredible."

When he felt you relax beneath him, he began to move, pulling back slightly before pressing forward again, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one designed to build the pleasure between you. His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to cradle your face while the other held your hip, his grip firm but tender. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice full of affection and desire, as his eyes searched yours. "I want to see you."

The connection between you was electric, every movement drawing you closer to him, every sound he made sending another wave of pleasure through you. As his rhythm grew more confident, his thrusts deep and purposeful, it became impossible to think about anything but him—the way he filled you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a testament to the love and passion you shared, the moment so intimate and consuming that the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Suddenly, Tom shifted his position, his hands firm but gentle as he grabbed one of your legs, lifting it effortlessly to rest on his shoulder. The change in angle sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, pulling a gasp from your lips. He held your other leg securely with his free hand, steadying you as he pressed forward, his thrusts deeper and more deliberate now.

The new position intensified every sensation, the depth and rhythm of his movements driving you to the edge. Tom's lips brushed against the skin of your ankle resting on his shoulder, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. "You're amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with a mix of admiration and desire, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering intensity. "So perfect."

You couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, your hands gripping the couch beneath you as you adjusted to the stretch. "Guess all those yoga classes paid off," you teased, your voice catching between moans. You were grateful that flexibility was something you hadn't lost over the years, and now, in this moment, it felt like the best decision you'd ever made.

Tom grinned at your comment, his expression softening for just a moment before his focus returned to the connection between you. His thrusts grew more confident, his grip on your leg tightening as he leaned forward slightly, his body pressing closer to yours. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the stretch and the angle hitting spots that left you utterly undone.

"You feel so good," Tom groaned, his voice low and husky as his pace quickened, the intensity between you building with every motion. The sound of your name falling from his lips, mixed with the rhythm of his body moving against yours, was almost enough to send you over the edge. His free hand slid up your thigh, caressing your skin in a way that was both grounding and electrifying, keeping you completely lost in the moment.

Tom's movements slowed for just a moment, his grip on your leg tightening slightly as his forehead rested against your ankle. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling with the exertion, but his eyes found yours, soft and full of unspoken emotion. "I've missed this," he murmured, his voice low and husky, tinged with an honesty that made your heart ache. "I've missed you—this."

His confession sent a wave of warmth through you, the intimacy of the moment deepening in a way that made everything else fade away. You could see it in his expression, the longing, the love, the way he was holding on to every second as if trying to make up for lost time. Despite how strong your bond was, you both knew how his demanding work schedule often pulled him away, leaving precious little time for moments like this. And even though your spark had never dimmed, it was rare to have the space to truly reconnect—not just physically, but emotionally.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. "I've missed this too," you admitted softly, your voice filled with the same vulnerability. "Not just this... but being close to you like this."

Tom's lips curled into a small, wistful smile as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your calf, his hand caressing your thigh with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I hate how work takes so much time away from us," he said, his tone laced with regret. "I don't ever want you to feel like I'm not here for you. You mean everything to me."

Hearing those words, feeling the sincerity behind them, was enough to make tears well in your eyes. But before you could say anything, Tom leaned forward again, adjusting his position to press his body closer to yours, his thrusts resuming with a deliberate slowness that conveyed just how much this moment meant to him. Every movement was filled with purpose, a silent promise that he was here, with you, fully present.

As the rhythm between you built again, the connection deepened, every kiss, every touch, every whispered word reaffirming the love that had always been there. This wasn't just about intimacy—it was about remembering what mattered most, about finding each other again in the quiet space away from the world's distractions. It was a moment that neither of you would forget, a reminder that no matter how busy life got, your love would always bring you back to each other.

By the time you stirred awake, the afternoon sun was already pouring through the villa's large windows, casting warm golden light across the room. You stretched lazily, sinking deeper into the soft sheets as the unmistakable aroma of food wafted through the air. Something savory and buttery mixed with the faint sweetness of tropical fruit and the rich scent of coffee. Your stomach growled in response, and you smiled to yourself, savoring the peaceful quiet of the moment.

Glancing toward the open doorway, your curiosity was rewarded with the sight of Tom in the kitchen. He stood at the stove, dressed in nothing but his black briefs, his toned body on full display, glowing in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. His hair was slightly messy, still tousled from sleep, and he was humming quietly as he cooked.

But what really caught your attention was the way he moved—swaying his hips in time with a beat only he could hear, adding an occasional spin or exaggerated shoulder roll as he worked. His little dance was carefree and playful, a side of him that you didn't always get to see in the hustle of daily life. You bit back a laugh as he shuffled over to the counter, grabbing a bowl of something with an almost theatrical flourish, then turned back to the stove with an exaggerated spin that nearly caused him to drop the spatula.

Your soft laugh broke the silence, and his head shot up, his hazel eyes meeting yours. A slow, mischievous smirk spread across his face as he placed the spatula down on the counter. "Well, look who finally decided to join me," he teased, resting one hand on his hip as he gave you an amused once-over. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead."

Still half-buried in the sheets, you reached for your phone and glanced at the time. Your eyes widened when you realized it was late into the afternoon. "Wait... it's already this late?" you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "I didn't realize how tired I was."

Tom chuckled as he turned back to the stove, expertly flipping something in the skillet. "I'm not surprised," he said over his shoulder. "After last night, I figured you'd need all the rest you could get." His voice was casual, but the cheeky tone underlying his words made your cheeks flush as memories of the previous evening came flooding back.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, wrapping yourself in a robe as you padded toward him. "And what's this?" you asked, nodding toward the spread of food on the counter—eggs, fresh fruit, toast, and even a small carafe of freshly brewed coffee. "You're cooking now?"

He glanced at you, his smirk widening as he turned off the burner and slid the contents of the skillet onto a plate. "I figured you deserved breakfast in paradise after last night," he said, his voice low and teasing as he set the plate down on the counter and stepped closer to you.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in mock skepticism. "Breakfast? At two in the afternoon?"

Tom shrugged, leaning in slightly, the playful glint in his eyes impossible to miss. "Hey, good things take time. Besides," he added, brushing a quick kiss against your temple, "I'm not letting you lift a finger today. You're on vacation."

His words made you smile, and you shook your head fondly, leaning into him for a moment before glancing at the spread again. "Well, I could get used to this," you teased.

Tom laughed, giving you a wink as he grabbed a cup of coffee and handed it to you. "You'd better. It's not every day you get a shirtless chef who can cook and dance."

You couldn't help but laugh, the warmth of his affection and the ease of his teasing filling you with a contentment that made you feel truly spoiled. As the two of you settled down at the small dining table on the villa's porch, the world seemed to pause in serene perfection. The warm island breeze danced around you, carrying the soothing sounds of waves gently crashing on the shore and the occasional rustle of palm leaves swaying in rhythm. The view before you stretched out into endless turquoise waters that sparkled under the late-morning sun, creating a postcard-perfect backdrop for the intimate meal Tom had prepared.

The breakfast was simple yet thoughtfully crafted, a reflection of Tom's care for you. Fluffy scrambled eggs, golden and steaming, sat next to a plate of fresh tropical fruit—slices of juicy mango, sweet pineapple, and perfectly ripe papaya. The toast was lightly crisped, accompanied by a small pot of locally made jam that glistened like tiny jewels under the sunlight. In the center of the table, a pot of freshly brewed coffee sent up wisps of fragrant steam. Tom poured two cups, the dark liquid filling the mugs with comforting warmth, before taking his seat across from you. His movements were unhurried, his expression relaxed—a rare sight compared to the usual work-driven intensity he carried back home.

As he sat, the light seemed to catch on his features in a way that softened them further. His hair was a mess of waves, still slightly tousled from the bed, and his jaw held a faint scruff that added to his effortless charm. For a moment, you simply watched him, marveling at how different he seemed here—untethered from the constant demands of his job, entirely present in this peaceful moment with you.

Tom took a bite of his eggs, savoring the meal for a moment before setting down his fork and leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze met yours, steady and filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. "I meant everything I said last night," he began, his voice low but brimming with conviction. "I've missed this—missed us. And I hate that my schedule makes it so hard for us to have moments like this."

His words hung in the air, the honesty behind them striking a chord deep within you. Your fork paused mid-air as you absorbed what he was saying, your heart both warmed and heavy at the same time. Tom reached across the table, taking your hand in his own, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles over your knuckles. "I know I get caught up in work," he continued, his tone tinged with a vulnerability he didn't often show. "I know I push myself too hard, and it takes me away from you—takes time I can't get back. But last night... it reminded me why I need to do better. I promise, I'm going to let up on my work schedule. I don't want to keep missing moments like this with you."

The weight of his words hit you fully, a blend of tenderness and regret woven into his every syllable. His eyes, warm and earnest, searched yours as though seeking reassurance. You could see the struggle in him—the balance between his overwhelming sense of responsibility and his love for you. Just as you felt the swell of emotions rise, Tom added, his voice quieter but no less determined, "But I also need you to understand... I'm not going to stop working toward our dream home. I know I can get a little obsessed with it, but I'm doing it for us. I just want to give you everything you deserve."

Your heart swelled with affection, even as a pang of concern struck you at how much pressure he placed on himself. Squeezing his hand, you let a soft smile curve your lips as you held his gaze. "Tom," you said gently, your voice steady but filled with emotion, "I don't need a dream house to be happy. I just need you. Moments like this—us, together—that's what matters most to me."

Tom's lips quirked into a small, sheepish smile, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I know," he said after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. "And I'm going to work on finding that balance. For you, for us."

The unspoken emotions between you lingered in the air as you returned to your meal, savoring the flavors and the quiet connection you shared. Tom's promise wasn't just empty words—it was the first step toward a future where your love and connection wouldn't have to compete with the weight of life's demands. The sound of the ocean played softly in the background, the breeze carrying the faint scent of salt and flowers, and as you sat there with the man you loved, sharing this rare and perfect moment, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

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#x male reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland #gay #smut

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saberlight1 · 1 year ago

Text

pretty boy — matt murdock

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader.

warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, standard daredevil warnings.

authors note: hiii! since rewatching daredevil, my matt and frank obsession has been back up n running (not that i’m complaining). and this is based on this request, thank you anon <3. i love this little fluffy fic, i hope you enjoy this!

masterlist

You watched the snowflakes fall with a calm smile on your face. You had always adored this time of year, especially when it snowed. It was just something about how the never ending buzzing of Hell’s Kitchen would just stop for a moment— just peace and quiet. It never failed to calm your nerves, whatever worries that were on your mind washing away with the snow hitting the ground.

You were sat on your boyfriend’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your hand, soaking in the tranquility that this type of weather brought you. Matt’s apartment was always one of your favorite places— it was always so quiet and the big, open windows granted you a sight to Hell’s Kitchen. Even with the bright build-board right outside, you still loved it. Most of all, you loved it because it was his. Everything in the apartment reminded you of Matt, thats why you spent as much time as possible here.

“Sweetheart?” Matt’s call broke you from your thoughts, and your heart swelled at his voice. You stood up immediately, walking over to where he was kicking off his shoes and jacket by the door.

“Hi, baby,” You smiled, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer.

“Hi,” He whispered as you took off his sunglasses. The second the lenses were off his eyes, the man brought his lips to yours.

Your smile only grew against his lips as you dug one of your hands into his hair— the man before you only growing more greedy against your lips.

You pulled back for air, a teasing look on your features. Matt may not have sight, but he could always tell when that look crossed your face. “Someone missed me, huh?” You cheekily teased.

His cold hands dove under the material of your— his shirt, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you attempted to get away from him.

He smiled brightly at you. “Of course I missed you,” His cold hands only traveled further up your back, and you knew the sneaky fucker could probably hear the goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Stop!” You giggled, trying to fight your way out of his arms, but you knew it was fruitless.

“Okay, okay,” He chuckled, relenting his cold hands from your warm skin. “‘m sorry, you’re just warm and it was fuckin’ freezing out there.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, your hands grabbing his own from your hips and wrapping them within your own in an attempt to warm them up. “I told you that this morning. Just because you’re the big, bad Daredevil doesn’t mean you don’t get cold, my love.” You joked, interlacing your fingers and leading him to your shared room.

He rolled his own eyes with a smile at your remark, you never failed to tease him for his vigilante ways— even when he came to you half dead and you had to patch him up, you still found a way to crack a joke to see his smile.

“Here,” You turned to him with a hoodie and sweatpants in your hands. “Get out of that suit so we can cuddle on the couch.” You left a kiss on his lips before turning on your heel and walking towards the kitchen.

Matt shook his head with a laugh, but did as he was told regardless. Once he was settled, he made his way towards where you were in the kitchen. You smiled softly when you felt his chest against your back and his arms slither around your waist. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he left small kisses along your neck.

“Hot chocolate, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his use of his senses. “Yep, might help you warm up, Frozone.” You joked.

“I know you did not just compare me to that dude from Incredibles.” He scoffed, feigning offensiveness.

You giggled. “How do you even know that?”

“Honey, my ears still work.” He pinched your hip lightly. “When that movie came out all the kids at the orphanage loved it. Had to hear it at least three times a day,”

You grimaced at the thought. “That must’ve been torture, havin’ to constantly hear the plot of that movie.”

“It was.” He agreed.

“Don’t tell me you hate that movie, though.” You looked at him from over your shoulder, holding up a finger. “‘Cause that was my favorite Disney movie for a while..”

He started tickling you immediately, a loud squeal leaving your lips. “Oh, my girl has a basic taste in Disney movies?” He teased with a smile, talking slightly loud over your laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Matthew!” You wheezed out, thrashing in his grip. He finally relented as you laid against him while you attempted to catch your breath. “Didn’t know you were so passionate about my taste..”

“Well, I gotta let you know if it’s a basic one.” He shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“If it’s so basic, then how’d I pick you?” You bit back with raised brows.

A breathy chuckle escaped him, before he paused to lick his lips. “Fair play, honey.”

You only smiled in return, turning back to pour the pair of you a mug of hot chocolate. Matt let his eyes flutter shut behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed to the sounds of just simply: you.

You smiled when you noticed what he was doing, one of your hands coming up to scratch his scalp. “It’s ready,” You softly said.

He pulled away from you to grab his mug. “Thank you, baby.” He left a kiss to the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the couch.

He placed both of your cups on the coffee table before lying down and dragging you into his chest, yet another yelp leaving your lips.

Your chin rested on his chest as you looked at him with questioning eyes.

“What?” He laughed. “I told you I missed you,”

You only smiled, leaning up slightly to bring your lips together. His hand immediately shot up to cup your jaw, the man also leaning up to deepen it. You’d never get tired of the way his lips chased yours, and how passionately he kissed you every time.

You pulled back for air, but not before leaving a couple small pecks to his lips.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Matt.” You whispered back, leaving one last kiss to his lips before digging your head into the crook of his neck— the hot chocolate being long forgotten.

But in all honesty, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were perfectly fine just as you were, wrapped up in your lover’s arms during a snowstorm.

#anon asks #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock gifs #matt murdock #matt murderdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil #daredevil netflix #netflix daredevil #marvel #mcu #fem reader

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veganineden · 2 years ago

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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”

A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2

One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?

In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are.

So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”?

My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.”

If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression.

Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity.

Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity.

You know who does?

Aziraphale.

And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.)

In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.

I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation.

Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”

So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.”

And most likely a cottage.

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

- Maya Angelou

#good omens 2 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #ineffable advocacy #ineffable partners #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #nothing lasts forever #liked by Neil Gaiman

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ───── LUKA DONCIC

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⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.6k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | (request for my lovely jo, @wanderlusturous) you, a hotheaded wnba star and your equally chaotic courtside boyfriend luka dončić take turns being menaces on and off the court, earning the title of Crash Out Couple with every tech, shove, and courtside screamfest

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | banter, luka being an instigator, it's kinda cute

The first time you meet Luka, he’s not quite a household name yet—but he’s well on his way. The smirk, the aura, the almost reckless abandon with which he commands the court—it’s all there. You’re sitting at a bar in Manhattan after a grueling Liberty practice, sipping on some overpriced cocktail that tastes like regret and stale citrus, when he strolls in, all easy confidence and mischief. You’re vaguely aware of who he is—because, duh, basketball—but you don’t care. Not about his growing fame. Not about the headlines that tend to follow him like a stray dog.

At first, it’s just banter. He comments on the Liberty cap perched on your head like he knows something. You volley back, sharp and unbothered, because you’re you, and nobody gets to talk slick without catching a little heat. You don't even realize you're flirting until he pulls out that grin, all teeth and menace, and asks for your number like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You give it to him—mostly because you’re intrigued by the audacity.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Fast-forward a couple of years, and the “Crash Out Couple” is practically an ESPN institution. You’d roll your eyes at the nickname if it weren’t so hilariously accurate. You, with your unapologetic on-court antics, and Luka, with his penchant for egging on entire benches, were practically made for each other. There’s a viral video that resurfaces every few months, some grainy courtside footage of Luka heckling refs while you jaw at a six-foot-four forward breathing down your neck. The caption reads, “Soulmates.” You both pretend to hate it, but the truth is, you kind of love it.

The media has their narrative: the fiery, unrelenting WNBA star and the NBA's most charming troublemaker. But what they don’t see is how it started—how the two of you fit together in a way that no one else ever really could.

Before you were dubbed half of the league’s favorite chaotic duo, you were just a girl with a chip on your shoulder and a game so good that even your doubters had to sit down and shut up. You grew up on New York asphalt, weaving through defenders who didn’t care if you were 13 or 30. You’d seen it all—trash talk, cheap shots, elbows that left bruises—and you didn’t just survive it; you thrived in it. You weren’t Sabrina Ionescu good in college—you were Sabrina Ionescu-adjacent, a little grittier, a little rougher around the edges.

By the time the Liberty scooped you up, you’d already perfected the art of letting people underestimate you. On the court, you were all business—sharp elbows, sharper words. Off the court, you weren’t much different.

And Luka? He had the same energy, just dressed up in a European accent and a billion-dollar smile.

So when the two of you finally crossed paths, it wasn’t fireworks or love at first sight or any of that fairytale nonsense. It was a slow build, a series of exchanges that started as friendly competition and escalated into something neither of you could ignore. You pushed him; he pushed back. You taunted; he laughed. And when the time came, he showed up for you the way you didn’t even realize you needed.

The arena hums with energy, a pulsing beat of chatter, sneakers squeaking on hardwood, and the occasional blare of the PA system announcing players warming up. You’re on the court, loose-limbed and laser-focused, bouncing a ball between your hands as the Liberty logo gleams under the bright lights. The crowd’s a blur, faces blending together, but you know exactly where Luka is without looking.

He’s courtside, leaned back like he’s sitting on his own throne, wearing that damn smile that always means trouble. He’s dressed low-key—a hoodie and jeans—but the way he carries himself, you’d think he was the one suiting up to play.

“You look nervous,” he calls out, loud enough for half the court to hear.

You roll your eyes, dribbling lazily as you make your way toward him. “Why would I be nervous? You’re not the one guarding me.”

He raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. “That’s a shame. I’d shut you down in five minutes.”

“Five?” you fire back, smirking now. “I’d have you in foul trouble in two.”

The assistant coach whistles sharply, breaking the moment as you’re called back into the fold. You turn, already putting him out of your mind, but not before Luka leans forward, his voice following you.

“Just don’t get ejected, okay? I want my money’s worth.”

You don’t look back, but your grin gives you away.

The game starts, and it’s clear from the jump that they’re gunning for you. You’re no stranger to being a target, but tonight it feels personal. Every time you touch the ball, there’s a defender glued to you—sometimes two, sometimes three. They’re in your face, hands swiping, shoulders digging into you on every drive.

It’s annoying, but you don’t let it show. Not yet.

You’re still finding your rhythm when the first cheap shot comes—an elbow to your ribs during a fast break. You stumble, barely, and the ref doesn’t call it. Luka is on his feet instantly, arms raised as he shouts something in Slovenian that’s definitely not family-friendly.

You wave him off with a quick glance and grit your teeth, setting up on the next possession. They want to frustrate you, throw you off your game. Fine. Two can play that.

By the second quarter, it’s obvious they’re not letting up. A hard screen sends you sprawling, and when you get up, your expression is thunderous. The forward who set the screen smirks, muttering something you can’t hear but understand perfectly. You take a step toward her, jaw tight, but your teammates pull you back before the whistle can blow.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Luka laughing, leaning into the drama like it’s his own personal soap opera. He’s clapping now, shouting something about “that’s my girl!”

It’s all fuel. Every shove, every sneer, every comment—you take it, you feed on it, and you channel it into the next play. You cut through the defense with surgical precision, drawing fouls and making them pay. By halftime, you’ve put up enough points to silence most of the chirping.

But Luka? Luka’s louder than ever.

When the buzzer sounds, you jog off the court toward the locker room, passing by Luka on your way. He’s waiting, still grinning like he’s enjoying this more than anyone else in the building.

“Having fun yet?” he teases, leaning over the railing.

You stop, towel slung over your shoulder, and level him with a look. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

He throws his head back, laughing, and for a second, you forget how much your ribs hurt.

By the time the third quarter starts, you’re running on pure adrenaline. Your body aches, your jersey clings to your skin, and the defenders are still swarming you like vultures over a carcass. But you’ve got that look in your eye—the one that tells everyone, including Luka, that you’re done playing nice.

They keep testing you, and you keep answering. Elbow jabs in the paint? Fine, you’ll fight through them. Double teams in the corner? Bring it on. But there’s only so much a person can take before they hit their breaking point.

And that point comes when you drive to the basket, slipping past one defender before the next one—a towering forward with about four inches and twenty pounds on you—steps into your path. She doesn’t go for the ball. Instead, she throws her shoulder into you with enough force to send you stumbling back.

The ref blows the whistle, finally calling the foul, but you barely hear it over the rush of blood in your ears.

The forward grins, smug, like she’s gotten away with something. And that’s it. You snap.

Without thinking, you shove her—hard. Hard enough that her sneakers screech against the hardwood as she stumbles back a few steps, eyes wide with shock. The crowd erupts into chaos, the kind of noise that rattles your bones.

She comes back at you immediately, barking something that you don’t catch because your teammates are already between you, dragging you back while her team does the same. The refs are blowing their whistles like it’s a lifeline, trying to regain control.

And Luka? He’s on his feet, losing his mind.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he yells, clapping his hands so loud you can hear it over the chaos. “Push her again! She deserved it!”

You glance his way, and the sight of him is almost enough to make you laugh. Almost. He’s leaning so far over the railing it looks like he might climb onto the court, his hoodie halfway off, gesturing wildly as he yells something in Slovenian that probably translates to “start the fight!”

The announcers are having a field day. The crowd is on their feet. Social media is already typing up their captions.

But you? You’re still locked in, eyes blazing as you stare down your defender, silently daring her to come at you again.

The refs eventually restore order, handing out double techs for good measure, but the damage is done. The entire arena is buzzing, and you can feel the shift in momentum.

You walk back to the bench, chin high, and when you sit down, Luka catches your eye again. He’s grinning like he’s never been prouder in his life.

“You really gave them their money’s worth,” he calls out, voice practically dripping with pride.

You grab a water bottle, smirking despite yourself. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the game plays out like a blur. The other team never quite recovers, and the Liberty take the win. By the time the final buzzer sounds, your name is trending, along with Luka’s, under the now-iconic title: Crash Out Couple.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#luka doncic #luka doncic x reader #nba basketball #luka dončić #dallas mavericks #luka dončić x reader

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