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kaiser1ns · 7 months ago

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#. FASHION PUT IT ALL ON ME !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff + slight suggestive. everyone loves the designer, but the designer loves his model a little bit more than the others.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

Takiishi Chika was a name, that made everyone got goosebumps when mentioned. The mere thought of him, a figure whose influence loomed large over the fashion industry and as one of the creative masterminds behind 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊, where he shared the leadership with the flamboyant and public-facing Endo Yamato. While Endo played the role of the charismatic creator, Takiishi preferred to lurk in the shadows, and his critiques were final, his words absolute and whatever he decided, happened.

Through his distant approach, one thing was undeniable—his eye for design was flawless. And that’s how you, a new model, had caught his attention. You were still coming to terms with how you had become Takiishi’s assistant, but Endo often joked that you were more of his doll than a working partner. At first, it seemed purely professional with you being the one he called upon to wear designs he was unsure of, the ones that were about to be thrown out but once you put them on … they were suddenly the best-created piece of clothing. Somehow, you had a way of making the dresses he disliked, those dull and lifeless fabrics became art on your body. Effortlessly stunning as if they had always been meant for you.

You didn’t know why it worked, but every time Takiishi’s usual bored expression softened. He liked the design—no, he liked you in the design. It wasn’t long before he stopped looking elsewhere and was attached to your hip, he needed you and made sure that your schedule was the same as his. Thanks to Endo, though, you spent every day with the critique.

Tonight was no different, you were in his apartment, a space you had become more familiar with over time, even calling it your home on accident. You’d agreed to make dinner, something simple since it was your cheat day that Endo didn’t need to know about, but Takiishi never policed your diet and around him you felt you could be yourself, free from the pressure of the runway. He never expected anything from you other than just to stay by his side, just like now as you moved through his kitchen and hummed softly, occasionally glancing at him lounging on the couch, absorbed in his phone.

“Do you want the usual drink?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He usually stuck to the same thing, but tonight he didn’t respond. Normally, he would give a nod or a low murmur, and now there was nothing. Takiishi was a man of few words, but he always acknowledged you in some way. “Chika?” you called again, but still no response. He was so engrossed in something, so the curiosity got the best of you when you wiped your hands and crept behind him to see what had captured his attention.

It was TikTok of all things. Your heart stopped when you saw the video on his screen. It was an edit of you, a compilation of clips of your viral moment when you wore one of 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊’s most famous mini dresses. It was a rainbow-stripped piece that had practically broken the internet. You were trending everywhere, and now it seems you still do. You remembered the chaos of that day, the media went crazy so did your fans. But what caught you off guard was the used audio and the caption that was put in. A mash-up of “One Of The Girls x Good for You” and the post description was “CAN’T THEY DATE ALREADY?”.

Your heart skipped and cheeks flamed as you noticed something else—Takiishi had liked the video, he even saved it to his favorites. The music continued to play, almost teasing you as you stood behind him, watching the video of the two of you when the final clip showed him, holding your hand and leading you into a limo after the show. A moment that was a pure mess, at the time, but now you saw it differently.

He felt your presence behind him and turned his head slowly, catching you in the act of peeking at his screen. His golden eyes met yours, staring at your flushed face. Why were you blushing? The question was that he wanted to ask, though he didn't. The video kept playing, the lyrics of the song making their way to your brain—Let me show you how proud I am to be yours/Leave this dress a mess on the floor/Still look good for you, good for you, oh-oh.

You swallowed hard as the memory of that day appeared and how that dress indeed ended up on the floor of his bedroom. In Takiishi’s eyes, you always looked good, wrapped in the most expensive silk or wearing nothing at all. It didn’t matter as long he was the only one to see you, to hold and have you. His expression shifted, something hiding behind his calm facade. He felt like he wasn't being in his skin, something in his chest was making him uncomfortable and he was about to rip his heart. It was like he wasn’t in control of himself for once, and that unsettled him. Takiishi turned off his phone, but the echo of the lyrics lingered between you.

You smiled, feeling both vulnerable and proud because you knew that you belonged to him. You are proud to be his, even if you didn’t put a label on, it wasn’t necessary for what you had on. Both of you knew without voicing it or showing it to the rest of the world.

The dinner you’d spent the evening preparing was forgotten because what he craved wasn’t food—it was you and the taste of your love.

ENDO YAMATO

Endo Yamato was the embodiment and the definition of art. In every stitch, every fabric, every stroke of his pen, he transformed the materials into a well-painted canvas, and his dreams came true walking down runaways under the flashing rights. He was art himself. His name was synonymous with fashion because everything he touched became the next sensation. Top models fought to wear his work, to be scouted under 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊, but one model stood above the rest in his eyes.

The world knew you as the face of the 21st-century fashion scene, gracing the covers of magazines, appearing in music videos, and promoting the newest products, but to Endo, you were much more than that. You are his muse, the heart and soul of creations, his favorite girl. Whenever you wore his designs, it was as if the fabric became alive, elevated by your confidence and charisma, something no other model could replicate. And no matter how packed his schedule became—traveling to interviews, collaborating with brands, or organizing his shows—he always found time for you.

He remembered the day you chose him, how you could have signed with any fashion house you wanted, yet you chose him. It was a decision that left him awed and flattered beyond measure. The outfits he made for you, even before you joined, became best-selling clothes and still sold, in limited editions of course. You were already a rising star and the trust you put in him, he never took for granted. The others could wait, competing for his attention, writing him tons of emails, but you were already the sun in his galaxy; the brightest star of them all.

Today was no different with you in his private studio, wearing a dress he had been inspired to create when you mentioned how you would like to wear bold colors like red. The soft, red silk clung to your figure perfectly, and the asymmetrical design with the front of the dress is shorter, revealing the legs, while the back is longer, paired with black thigh-high boots, which contrast sharply giving you the edgy effect you wanted. His eyes traced every inch of the cloth, but more so, they lingered on you.

“Turn around, doll,” he said softly, as he measured once more, though he already knew the dress fit you like a second skin, it was just one of his excuses so he could physically be close to you. You turned, facing him fully, and your reflection in the mirror was a second bullet to his heart. Endo barely registered the fabric he tried to fix, it was you who captivated him.

In a few days, you’d be wearing this dress to one of the most prestigious fashion events of the season, an event he was invited to headline and though he was making sure every thread was in place, he wasn’t there just for the measurements and to play dress to impress. He called you saying how you had to do one last try on the garment...one of many last tries over the past few days. Of course, it was another excuse, and you didn’t mind at all.

“You look…” His voice trailed off, dreamlike, lost in his admiration for you. How could words even capture what he was? You weren’t just his best model—you were everything to him. The fashion world adored you and crowned you its new queen, but to him, you were simply you. The muse he took inspiration from, his most precious gem, the one who sewed up his heart hiding all the sharp things the string could be cut off.

Rumors had started swirling lately. People began noticing how much time you spent in his studio, how he’d rearrange his entire schedule for you. They whispered, speculating whether there was more between you than just designer and model. But neither of you spoke of it. This remained private, a secret to share when you feel ready to.

“Yamato…Are you okay?” you asked, concerned as he stared at you, eyes lingering for a little too long making you think there was something wrong. You had grown accustomed to his perfectionism, but something in his gaze told you that this wasn’t just about the dress. The way you said his first name made him melt that he could sew you a wedding dress right then and there. For a moment he forgot about the dress, the show, the world outside.

He set down the tape measure and scissors as he stepped closer, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric, tattooed skin gently caressing your exposed shoulder then his hands found their way around your waist. You stood tall on the small round podium, slightly towering over him and none of that mattered when you were in his embrace.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, though his tone was quiet you heard everything, you felt everything, and his heart was beating so fast, just like yours. You can’t get enough of him either, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. In his eyes, you weren’t just another model. You were the reason his creations had meaning. You were his one and only, and though the world might see it soon, for now, he was content to keep that secret between the two of you.

taglist :: @maruflix @17020 @kiurona @nyxypoo @ryescapades @stunies @mydream-synopsis @kazuhaiku @heartkaji @meidiary @slerixx

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butchdiaz · 10 months ago

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hiiiii your edits are so incredible!!! i've been thinking about trying my hand at video editing do you have any tips?? also how does one source clips lol

hope you're having a good day :)

hi!!!! thank u so much! for sourcing clips, i did it the hard way by downloading full episodes and screen recording the clips i wanted w quicktime which is a lengthy process that takes up a lot of space on ur laptop LOL but i really wanted HD footage and didnt know any other way when i started and now i just have my own little library of clips.

here is a lifesaving site to download eps if u dont wanna/cant torrent. i forget who made it but if someone knows lmk so i can credit!

after i had done all that i discovered that there were these magical things called scene packs that are more popular over on twitter. where u can easily download every buddie scene in s2-4 for example that took me hours to record myself 🤦🏽‍♂️ i dont really have any specific sources for u bc im not on twitter. sorry ik thats not very helpful LMAO but if u ask around/search for them i know they are out there!

and uhhh as far as tips go here are some things i personally think about while editing! everyone has different styles and methods though:) this got long accidentally so its going under the cut oops

- i like to try and tell a story w my edits so im almost always thinking about that first and foremost. like how can i tie the beginning to the end and have a satisfying climax etc. i try to work with the song and highlight the emotional/tonal shifts in the music with my editing

- on that note, i am very influenced by the music while im editing cause i want my edits to LOOK like how it FEELS when im listening to the song. i think my best example of this is im afraid i love you. the drop in the chorus feels like a punch to the gut everytime and i really wanted to visuals to reflect that so it would be the most powerful. hence: soft lovey dovey looks galore and then BAM! SHOOTING. these comments fills my heart with glee cause it makes me feel like i did a good job capturing the feeling the song gives me.

i also really love the way the beat comes in in the second verse of that song and i made sure to sync up the shots to the beat at that moment instead of the words in order to highlight the musical shift. (i always think about how @ilostyou loves that verse and calls it bouncy, it makes me feel like i achieved my goal!!!!)

- the little details and nitpicky stuff goes a long way! like painstakingly making sure clips hit right on time with the beat/the words if thats ur intention. it may seem like a chore at the time but it definitely pays off for me at least

- i also think a LOT about composition, and how to make edits flow smoothly so that the viewer can follow the story easily. if i have a bunch of faster clips in a row im going to try to make sure the focus stays in the same place so the viewers eyes dont have to jump around to find what they are looking for. its easier to explain w an example so in happy to be here, for these three shots on the word "en-gi-neer" i wanted the order to go frank -> dr salazar -> buck.

because then it goes back to frank for "listening" so i wanted space between when it shows him AND i wanted it to end on buck cause he's the most important. but the original shot of dr. salazar was flipped so at first it looked like this:

and i didn't like how ur eyes had to go back and forth so fast, so i flipped the middle clip. it was much easier to process all three clips in quick succession if the subject didn't move. hope that makes sense!

#LMAO i feel like im so bad at explaining my thought process but lmk if u want any clarification! i rambled oopsies #answered #faq

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papayafiles · 1 year ago

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part 2

SILVERSTONE MY BELOVED thank god we're finally at the good part 😭

"okay lando. it's now or never time" i did not know his race engineer said that to him before his provisional pole lap? jose is so funny for that (assuming this isn't a random clip spliced in from somewhere else)

also it seems like the mclaren episode is going to end at silverstone/focus on the first half of the season which is a shame because there are SO many good moments in the second half (the two double podiums! suzuka! qatar! lando's back to back to back etc string of podiums! SINGAPORE) but ig it makes sense narrative-wise. i REALLY hope they have a montage of all the success/podiums at the end of this episode though! it feels like perfect food for drive to survive as well to have that epic comeback (and you know they love their montages)

lando's choked up little "yeah baby" after qualifying p2 in silverstone oh!!!! sobbing

"but it's only qualifying" will buxton shut upppppppPPPPPPP

lando saying a podium isn't on the cards (on pure performance) and saying he never gets his hopes up (a reporter saying "bc you've had too many false dawns?" and him saying "yeah") ... cut to him getting a podium in his home race. cut to him in p2. cut to him basically winning it bc max doesn't count. great things are coming for him <3

LMAO at them splicing in random radio messages and clips from completely different situations 😭 "yeah baby!" "let's fucking gooo!" he did NOT say that there. it even SOUNDS out of place. also the clips of zak brown reacting to whatever's happening on track look like stan twitter reaction gifs. i swear i recognize some of these from elsewhere

i'm glad they're capturing how INTENSE the lando vs lewis fight for p2 was post-safety-car because i remember PACING around the house yelling at my laptop when it was happening

zak brown running around high fiving everyone 😭 my ceo!

"never in doubt, never in doubt!" oh!!!!! 🥺

"let's go see my boy lando" CUT THE CAMERAS

zak brown jogging down the pitlane huffing and puffing because "i didn't wait this long to walk to the podium!" 😭😭😭

the most surprising thing this episode has done is to endear me to zak brown. i was wholly neutral about him before but now? that's MY ceo. that's MY team boss. love that guy. competent teddy bear. so much respect for him.

STOP when lando was hugging zak after jumping out the car his dad was right behind zak, so he reached out and snaked an arm between all the mechanics and just wrapped it around lando's shoulders and pulled him in. the norris family, everyone. i'm so emotional over this.

"finishing second in silverstone was one of the best days of my life" i'm on the floor

the music SWELLING as he walks out onto the podium THAT'S RIGHT

him talking about winning a race: "i know my time is coming. and it's definitely gonna come, yeah. 100%." 🧡

DEDICATED TO GIL DE FERRAN what if that was my last straw

i forgot they did previews for the next episode at the end of each one so i was just jumpscared by a guenther steiner/smoking haas crashed into barrier combo. anyways that was the episode. i'm going to go lie down now

watch drive to survive with me, a lando fan with absolutely zero chill, season 6 episode 3 edition:

(this got so long it literally exceeded tumblr's character limit, which i did not know existed until now, so i'm splitting it into two parts and posting it anyway because what is a tumblr blog for if not dramatic unhinged public breakdowns!)

it hasn't even started and i'm already Losing My Mind

"the brand cries out for more performance" with angsty heavy music... i forgot how dramatic drive to survive was. the music really enhances the stakes here.

"we did go backwards last year. no denying" cut to daniel struggling at the back 😭 he's not even in the team anymore and he's still catching strays. drive to survive editors have zero chill.

dramatic conversation between zac brown and a mclaren exec about how poorly things are giong... cut straight to lando walking into his interview with rice cakes smiling and giggling. I LOVE HIM.

the squeal of excitement that came out of my mouth at his VERY FIRST line (it's one word: "wow". wow indeed lando norris. you. yes. wow. i need to stop)

producer: "did you break it?" lando: *instantly looks concerned and checks*

LMAO not oscar waving his arms in front of the mtc double doors trying to motion sensor them open... only to fail epically 😭 dork (affectionate)

LANDOSCAR <3

oscar arriving late to the first mclaren team meeting and immediately thinking to ask his guide if lando's arrived yet vs lando making a point of pointing out that he beat oscar there 😭 idiots

lando watching oscar walk into the room for the first time with a contemplative expression… what are you thinking in that beautiful curly head of yours

oscar, doing an official interview about mclaren f1 vs lando, in the corner, eyeing him up and down: oscar’s quite tall, huh? he doesn’t look tall, but he is. he’s also like 15.

trademark dts beat drop after will buxton finishes dramatically chatting shit oh i've missed this

lando face scrunch count: 1

oh no we’re doing bahrain

i didn’t watch bahrain live so i didn’t know it was this bad 😭 wdym 25-30 second long fifth stop of the race my god

“red bull DOMINATES bahrain” yeah yeah shut up

claire williams??? what is she doing here

lando looking distraught cut the cameras i can’t do this 😭

“is it too soon to call it a crisis?” f1 journalists have zero chill (derogatory)

mclaren were DEAD LAST?? i was not aware

not christian horner again 😭 leave lando ALONE! he doesn’t want you!! netflix pls stop exploiting cute norstappen clips for your rbr lando agenda i do NOT endorse this

christian horner saying lando would fit really well in the red bull environment…………… in WHAT world

i’m so interested in seeing how conversations with pr managers go… like this is so fun to see them go through the bullet points of what topics journalists might ask and the ~vibe~ they want to be giving in their responses

…okay netflix i REALLY feel like you’re taking clips out of context and splicing them together to form a narrative here. and i get that that’s your whole job. but i think i also get why lando signed that renewal so early now 😭 warding off dts bullshit before it can even start to hit

“we’re so slow on the straight” dipping to a whisper like a confession he didn’t mean to slip out… glance up then back down again… i see you storytellers weaving the narrative. i see you. i get it. you really don't need to keep going

okay i know lando and zak are having a very serious conversation in this scene but also. lando in golf clothes. arms. AND legs. bronze tanned smooth skin... i’m not even thirsting here i’m just pointing out OBJECTIVE facts that are possibly maybe a little bit distracting me from… whatever they're talking about

“i’ll do my best, as always” ❤️ he always does

will buxton shut UP

why are they spending so much time on miami... they weren’t even good there… we’re getting more angst aren’t we.

ohh i forgot how pretty the red bull miami liveries were

nevermind they’re showing max lapping the mclarens. no longer pretty. fuck that livery actually

lando sounds so depressed on the radio i’m going through it 😭

did he really say haha. LOL. :/ on the radio 😭😭😭

“i’m not suggesting it may look bad. i’m suggesting it is bad”

lando saying "fucking hell" on the radio count: 2

okay do we really need another montage of team principals ragging on mclaren. we get it! you want him! he has a line of admirers a mile long! move on!!

NORRUSSEL CONTENT

according to george there are drivers who drink during normal race weekends?? lando throwing up his hands as the camera points toward him like not me! (i can't tell if george is joking but that sounds crazy to me? i bet it's either a really depressed backmarker or max after winning the wdc on a saturday)

not george calling the mclarens horrendous 😭 have some mercy

……………………………………...........

NETFLIX—

cut the cameras.

NETFLIX WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME

the way i'm actually in tears 😭 i'm so fragile right now do not talk to me

"this is the worst start to any season i've ever had. i want to be the best driver there is in formula 1. that's why i started my whole journey" THEN THEY CUT TO HIM IN A GO-KART??? A MONTAGE SEQUENCE???

they really edited together a mini montage of lando's whole journey including interview clips of him as a young child then put a voiceover of his tiny baby voice saying "i need to be stronger and not make so many mistakes" over video footage of adult lando looking depressed out the plane window and expected me to just be okay after that.

then they go straight into a montage of zak brown and lando's history together going way back ("first time i met lando, he was a small 14 year old ... he was very shy, as you'd expect a 14 year old... he was very fast.") cutting between old photos of them together pre-f1 with emotional music ("i think the first time he drove a racecar it was probably mine") oh! okay then!!

"i would love to create the story and finish the story and everything with mclaren. i really would love that." EVERYTHING HURTS

why does watching this episode make me feel like he's going to leave mclaren when i KNOW he just signed a contract extension? the magic of mood-setting background music and splicing clips together

zak brown meeting with all the sponsors... he is a stronger man than me. i would be freaking out in his position. it's also insane how much is riding on literal sports results from a corporation/business perspective? like the amount of pressure on f1 drivers to deliver is wild and here we are giggling at our silly clown sport and its silly circus events

oh claire williams shut up

(you don't even have a job in f1 anymore why are you still HERE)

#who needs a netflix subscription when i do this for free on tumblr.com #watching dts #my thoughts #my threads

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joebrrrow · 2 years ago

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Refunds || Joe x F!Reader (NSFW)

You were no stranger to Joe’s hijinks.

word count: 3,237

warnings/contents: blowjob, daddy name-calling (i'm sorry joe i'm just saying what we're all thinking), dom!joe/sub!reader dynamics, rough sex (i'm sorry joe), choking, full mind-break, degradation (but also, like, praise), bimbo behavior-fication, dirty talk

author’s note: crawling out of my hole to give you this filthy filth in celebration of the bengals going to the AFC championship! now excuse me i must go take a cold shower and get to my scheduled exorcism because i need church after writing this.

don’t be shy to like and reblog if you enjoyed. as creators say, likes are amazing but reblogs go a long way in sharing my work. thank y’all!!!!!

For more of my smut, read Sturdy. For fluff, check out Capturing You, because your girl can do both. <3

enjoy under the cut!

No matter what, Joe was a winner to you.

And you never really let it get to your head too much, especially when you were watching him from the stands, whatever the team’s score was. You were endlessly proud of him, win or lose, because you’d been there from the very beginning. Even when he was still at Ohio State and barely even saw the field, you gleamed with pride. But honestly, it had been pissing you off a little bit—and you’re typically mild-mannered, some might even go as far as saying meek—to hear everyone doubt Joe, and the whole team for that matter.

“It’s just trash talk, baby,” Joe would soothe you the moment you heard about all this bullshit about neutral sites, ticket sales. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and reached over to close your laptop, cutting out the noise in a way. “If that gets to ya, you should hear what some guys say on the field.” He cracked a grin and that made things better.

You tried out logic for a while. It wasn’t like pre-selling tickets to a matchup was unheard of; it was basically customary in any sport. Even protocol. And that satiated you for now. You didn’t notice, but Joe actually liked seeing a little bit of that fire in you—this newfound willingness to prove someone wrong. You were always someone who didn’t care too much about what others thought, which was why he wanted even more to win against the Bills on Sunday, just for you; because as much as you were proud of him no matter what, he also liked your praise just as much. He wanted to make you proud.

So come Sunday, when it was the fourth quarter and the Bills were too behind to catch up to the Bengals’ score and that timer was running out, you couldn’t hide how happy you were for him. You watched him from the stands with a big stupid smile on your face because this was who Joe Burrow was—your Joe. He was a winner, a champion, and the sooner people started to realize that, the better. And what a helluva way to prove them wrong with just four words:��

“Better send those refunds.”

—

You sat there, mouth slightly falling open. The bright light of your phone’s screen illuminated your face in the otherwise dark parking lot, at a gas station somewhere in the outskirts of Cincinnati, about five minutes away from yours and Joe’s place. You were catching up on all the social media, retweeting things, reposting stories, acknowledging everything you could that was singing Joe’s praises because goddamn if he didn’t deserve it. And that was when you caught this clip of Joe’s postgame interview.

Better send those refunds.

You were no stranger to his hijinks. You loved how fired up he got after a great game and an even better win. You loved how he was slowly opening up to the media, showing a little more of the goofy person you know him to be (though you secretly wished he’d kept it all for you). But this… Something was different about this.

You were suddenly startled by Joe opening the door to his car, entering the driver’s seat and handing a plastic bag over to you. Without much thought, you grabbed it. “What’s this?” you asked.

He snickered at this. “Your snacks, sweetheart.” Oh, that’s right—you had run out of your celebratory post-game Oreos at the house and wanted him to grab a quick pack.

With a chuckle, you played it off. “Thanks.”

He started the car and began pulling out of the parking lot, but not without question. “You good, baby?”

“Yep,” you croaked out. You turned beet red and thanked God it was dark outside so he couldn’t see. You both laughed about how your voice broke just then.

A few seconds passed before you spoke again. You willed up some confidence. “It’s just… You know, I can’t let it go. About how they were selling those tickets before they even knew who was going to play in the Championship.”

“Ah, I know, babe.” He reached over and patted your knee. “But that doesn’t matter, ‘cause we’re gonna be there next week.”

“I know, I know, but… What was it you said at that interview after the game? ‘Give the tickets back,’ or something like that?” You purposely watered down his words, wanting him to correct you.

“Nah, nah, you’re butchering it,” he said, laughing. “I don’t remember what I said, really.”

“Oh, c’mon. You remember,” you insisted teasingly. “I bet you had it bubbling up. You thought of it last week, probably, and kept rehearsing it over and over again so you got it right by the time you had to say it.”

Joe scoffed, reaching over and ruffling your hair. “Where’s this comin’ from, bug?” His sweet little nickname for you. He always treated you like you were small, and you liked that. But you didn’t want to sink into it, not yet—you wanted this first.

“Just say it. You remember what you said.”

“Hmm.” At a red light, he stopped the car and looked over at you. His perplexed expression was smoldering even when dimly lit crimson.

Biting your lip, you waited.

“I know what I said,” he finally confessed.

“Yeah?” you squirmed a bit in your seat. The light was still red.

“I said, ‘Better send those refunds.’”

“Mmm.” You couldn’t hold back your whimper. It was involuntary. Sometimes it shocked you, still, the effect that Joe Burrow had on you. Even after all these years. But you caught yourself and added, “Mmmhmm. That’s what you said.”

He didn’t let you get away with it, though. He never did.

As the light turned green, Joe slowly accelerated forward; you were the only car on these quiet streets. He said nothing. You bit back your smile as you looked out of the window, pretending like nothing happened.

Then, you felt it. He brought his right hand down from the wheel to pat your knee again, but it wasn’t a silly pat this time. He started rubbing his huge hand on your knee, slowly lowering it to your inner thigh. You thought his touch was going to burn a hole in your leggings. But you weren’t done.

“Better send those refunds,” you repeated, somewhat more enunciated, voice a bit breathy. But you didn’t want to make it obvious that his touch had already gotten to you; that you’d already been soaked from the moment he got back in the car. You let out a soft chuckle. “I mean, it’s true. They knew better than to doubt you.”

“Hmph.” Joe seemed to be satisfied by your words.

“I mean, right? God, this should show them that they’re stupid for even thinking about selling those tickets in the first place, whether it’s protocol or not,” you continued. His hand on your thigh just kept moving higher and higher. Your next words came out with a slight gasp: “You’re the fucking best, Joe. And if they don’t know that by now…”

When his hand finally snuck between your thighs, thumb rubbing against your warm pussy over your leggings, you let out a slutty moan. “Daddy.” It was, like that whimper earlier, involuntary. Conditioned.

“Shh. Tell me.” It was the first time you’d heard his voice in a minute, and it was suddenly colored so deep, lustful.

You knew what to say. “I just think you’re—you’re the best, daddy.” Your confidence had waned off a bit, replaced by this slightly bimbofied persona only he knew how to dig out of you. “And you’re so right… they better send those refunds.” You nodded, biting down hard on your lip as he rubbed your clit in circles. You looked at him even if he wasn’t looking at you back; his focused expression as he drove was all you needed to keep getting wetter and wetter.

But you were suddenly disappointed as you felt the car slow down and pull into your house. Those were the fastest five minutes of your life. You wanted it to be like the last time you got frisky in the car, Joe so desperate that you pulled off to the side of the road and fucked you right there. You supposed this was better, though; you could both get out of your clothes easier and didn’t have to wrestle with a pile of winter coats. (It was summer the last time you had car sex; your tiny shorts were easy to pull off.)

“Let’s go,” Joe spoke, stepping out of the car. He was calm as you both headed inside the house.

You dropped off your coat and bag on the wall hook by the door and pathetically set the plastic bag on the kitchen island, feeling his presence somewhere behind you. You looked up at him, biting your lip, seeing him standing in the doorway. He’d taken his shoes and coat off already, just in his warm-ups. When you caught his gaze, his ocean blue eyes looked expectant of you.

“Yes, daddy?”

That was enough to set him off. He walked over to you, towering over you and backing you up against the kitchen island. You gulped, looking up at him. You loved when he made you feel small.

“Better send those refunds.”

You feigned confusion. “Huh?”

Abruptly, he grabbed you by your waist and turned you around, bending you over the counter. He had a fistful of your hair and his cock pressed hard against you, and you felt him breathing in your ear. “I said, you’d better send those refunds.”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, looking at him through your peripherals, brows curled up. Your mouth hung agape, moaning as he reached his free hand down and grabbed your ass. Just from this, your head was already swirling with dumb pleasure. “Right away, daddy.”

He turned you around and pulled you onto your knees by your hair. You braced yourself by grabbing his thighs and didn’t dare break eye contact from him. Even if his bulge was right in your face. This was the first time in a long time, since the beginning of today, that he’d gotten a look at you. He smirked; you knew he thought you were gorgeous, he didn’t have to say it. This was about him.

“Suck my cock.”

You did as you were told, pulling down his sweatpants and not even allowing yourself a second to admire his length. You took the shaft in your hand and directed the tip of his cock into your mouth, closing your eyes as you expertly began sucking him off. There was no slow burn here; that already happened in the car.

Joe still had your hair in his hand, and it gripped tighter as you blew him. “Mmm. Fuck, baby. Just like that,” he growled. He broke eye contact from you for a moment to lean his head back and close his eyes, focusing on the sound of you gagging over his cock. You took him as far as you could then fucked the back of your throat with the tip of his cock, which was slick in your drool. Your hands held onto his thighs as you whimpered with your mouth full. Even though he wasn’t looking at you, you didn’t break eye contact from him; it made you so wet to watch him go all primal.

Then he grabbed two fistfuls of your hair to make pigtails. You knew that he wanted to control your mouth, so you held your hands behind your back like a good girl and you let him throw your head back and forth against his cock. Your eyes welled up with tears.

He looked down to watch you as he fucked your throat, and he looked so proud to own you. It made you want to be even better at being throatfucked, like you would go to college and get a degree in being a good throat to fuck if you could. You wanted to serve him in that way. You made filthy, wet gagging noises, and babbled when you could; your face was coated in your own drool.

“Alright, get up,” he said, pulling his cock out of your mouth and hoisting you to your feet by your pigtails. He let go of your hair and you sighed in slight relief from the new lack of tension.

“Y-yes daddy,” you gurgled out. Your makeup was ruined, but you still looked pretty to him. He kissed you messily, grabbing both of your cheeks with one hand of his squeezing your face together. Then he gave your face a nice, solid slap.

“You gonna be a good girl for daddy, huh? You gonna take this dick?” he asked, breathless.

You whimpered and nodded. “Yes,” you whimpered. “I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Satisfied with your pleading, he forced you on your stomach, bent over against the kitchen island. He pulled down your leggings and lifted your jersey up, and as you watched him over your shoulder, you caught his smirk. Of course you were wearing his number. You knew he liked seeing you wear it and loved fucking you in it even more.

With one hand on your back and the other on the base of his shaft, he slowly directed the tip of his cock inside of you, not shy to groan as he felt how wet you were. “Fuck. Look how wet you are,” he said, tone as if to humiliate you, but you loved it when it came along with praise. “You’re fucking soaked. Are you that much of a slut that seeing me win gets you this fucking soaked and slutty, sweetheart?”

You whimpered, finding yourself almost begging for him to slide in all the way. “Y-yes, daddy. I’m a slut,” you barely got out. Your words were somewhat nasally and high-pitched; you were almost full bimbo at this point. “Please. Please.”

He chuckled at this, pulling back out. He rubbed his tip along the wet, slick slit of your cunt. “Please what?”

“Daddy. Daddy, please fuck me. I can’t take it,” you begged. “I’ll—I’ll get on those refunds right away, daddy. I should’ve known better.”

Joe growled. Satisfied, he shoved deep into you, and held his cock there; you felt his balls graze up against your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned. You braced yourself against the kitchen island, staring at the Oreos.

Then, Joe started to fuck you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and everything went black. You bathed in the pleasure that was his cock pummeling your tight little pussy. You loved how rough he was being. You were losing yourself. You were being owned by Joe Burrow. You were his piece of pussy, and only that.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you moaned in conjunction with each thrust of his as he took you from behind.

His hands gripped tightly on your waist, letting out primal groans as he fucked you hard. He wasn’t holding back, and you loved it. “Oh, c’mon, baby. You better get to it,” he spoke, breathily, and yet confidently. “You were gonna do something for me, weren’t you? Before you went all brain-stupid and cock-slutty for your daddy?”

You hated how easily his words came out when all you could think about was his dick obliterating your pussy. The words were jumbled in your head: “Refunds, better send.” And they came out repeatedly in whines. “Refunds. Daddy. Send. Yes. Fuck. Me.”

One of his hands left your waist and you almost began sobbing at that lack of contact only if he didn’t reach up and grab your throat, pulling you up from the cold marble of the kitchen island so you could stand up a bit and watch him fuck you. He held your throat tightly, and you looked over your shoulder as best as you could to catch a blurry image of the most handsome fucking man you’ve ever seen hammer into you. He shoved his thumb in your mouth and you sucked happily. You repositioned your hands on the counter to hold yourself up and continue to be a good slut. His other hand spanked your ass.

“That’s right, baby. Better send those refunds like the stupid fuckin’ bimbo you are,” he growled out, words accented with that smirk you knew he wore while he fucked you. “Take this big fuckin’ daddy cock in your wet, tight little pussy, baby.” His hand left your throat only to dig under your shirt and grab your tits, tugging that bralette down and off your tits. He roughly pinched your nipple and you whined out. Your tits bounced freely in rhythm with his incessant, merciless fucking.

“D-daddy,” you whined, desperately.

“Aw, what’s that? You can’t say anything?” There he was again, pulling out coherent sentences while you babbled.

You’d gone full bimbo by this point. You were far gone, and your only compass was his dick inside of you. You knew nothing else about fuck-all until his cock was drained inside of you, and you would be a good slut-servant until he was done.

But goddamn, you were about to cum. “I—” you whimpered out. “If you keep fucking me like that, daddy, I’m gonna cum.”

He laughed at this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Put your—daddy, please—”

You didn’t have to finish your sentence. Joe knew what you needed. His hand left your tit if only to grab your throat again, and his other hand held onto your waist, keeping you still. Otherwise, you’d squirm away from him. He knew you were uncontrollable when you came.

“What’s that, baby? Use your words for daddy, c’mon.” He smirked.

“I’m gonna—” you cried out.

He timed his thrusts with these next few words, feeling close to climaxing himself: “You’d. Better. Send. Those. Fucking. Refunds. You. Fucking. Slut.”

And with that, you came hard all over his cock, clenching your tight, wet walls around him. “God, daddy! I’m cumming! Yes! Don’t stop!” You closed your eyes and indeed, squirmed around a ton, and he had to hold your waist to keep you still.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum, too, baby.” He grunted, wrangling and fucking you at the same time, and at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, shot his white hot load deep inside you. You felt him filling you up, the warmth of his load sinking deep into your stomach. You both slowed down, breathing hard.

With him still inside of you, you slumped forward, laying your top half down on the counter. You looked over your shoulder up at him, then cracked a grin.

And he broke into a smile, too, gleaming with pride. He’d never admit it, but you turned him into such an animal. It was even sweeter when the clouds had all cleared and all you both felt was bliss.

You lifted a heavy, lifeless arm to reach across the counter. You pulled the plastic bag closer and took out the package of Oreos. Barely functioning and breathing hard, you put all your effort into ripping that stupid, plastic seal off the package, revealing three rows of double-stuffed sandwich cookies. You pulled one out and offered it over your shoulder to him. “Want a celebratory Oreo, champ?” you asked.

He took it with a snicker. “Yeah, sweetheart. I sure do.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #myfics*

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holdinbacksecrets · 3 years ago

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assuming they were normal citizens of the world, what kind of ig users do you think svt would be? like who would post stores about you all the time, who would soft launch you, who would only post during anniversaries, who would post cheesy ass things, who wouldn’t post you until y’all are engaged, etc lol. thank you! 😍

i feel like some of these still have an air of fame to them… like some of this shit fans would eat up/they have a feeling of being shared with an audience of strangers

seungcheol: he posts adorable videos of you that make everyone swoon. the most recent is you barefoot at his cousin’s wedding reception dancing in the grass with a glass of champagne in hand. you look heavenly, and his captured ooos and laughter are heart melting. in the corner of every video posted is a little *i have consent to share* because in some clips, it’s clear that you have no idea he’s filming, and that makes them even sweeter

jeonghan: you’re a complete weirdo, and he’s so amused. he doesn’t document all the wacky shit you do, but some of the best moments make it to his instagram

joshua: the only time you’re on his social media is when you’re driving and singing pocketful of sunshine. it’s basically your version of sunday morning

jun: he has a highlight dedicated to everything you bake, and he does wholesome zoom ins with the perfect background music

soonyoung: he’s documenting his life on social media but is respectful of your disinterest in being perceived, so your face is rarely shown. captured conversations are always amusing because the camera is focused on his expressions, and he always :] when you ask if he’s recording

wonwoo: he has a story dedicated to the summary screen when you’re gaming together, keeping track of wins, and adding cute emojis whenever you beat him atta girl

jihoon: he has an anime highlight where you share ratings and recommendations. you’ve probably started an anime commentary podcast together

seokmin: he’s dating a musician (cello player) and has a highlight dedicated to your recitals. every evening of a show brings the same trio of pictures: a flower bouquet held in his hand + i hope she’ll like it, you on stage, and one of him hugging you afterward backstage. so fucking adorable and the captions are so wholesome: “i’m the proudest boyfriend” “🥺🥺😭😭❤️❤️😘🖤🤧😍🫠” “everyone stared at me when i whistled from the first row, but i don’t even care”

mingyu: almost every picture he posts was taken by you, and he makes hearts melt with captions like “taken by my love” or “she did good, huh?” someone stop him

minghao: he met you at a yoga studio because you’re an instructor, and classes at dawn end as the sun rises. he always shares that moment on a monday as vibrant colors consume the sky, starting off his week right, and sends good vibes to followers

seungkwan: he posts pictures of you flipping him off at the dining room table—it’s an ongoing saga—because you haven’t had your coffee yet. we’re two peas in a pod. you film videos of him running, calling out encouraging words, and promising to give him a massage afterward even though he’ll want a donut instead

hansol: he alludes to having a significant other but is never forthcoming. the pieces come together quite easily because of his flirty replies to your comments, and any time he travels the location is the same because you’re long distance. the reveal comes when you’re graduating from grad school, and he posts candids fixing your cap, kissing your cheek, and beaming as he embraces you.

chan: even as a normal citizen, there’s no way this man wouldn’t be dancing, and you always bring meals to the studio, so he posts pictures of the impressive spread before eating. he’s quite public about his relationship. also posts pictures of you strolling through the farmers market, along with posts of you wearing matching bunny headbands featuring green face masks

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen blurbs #seventeen fluff #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #hansol scenarios #chan scenarios

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Dreamcatcher Reaction: Their S/O Picks Up One Of Their Habits

Pairing: Dreamcatcher x GN!8thMember!Reader

Requested By: Anon

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this fluff! :) Stay safe and healthy <3

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚

Jiu

Habit: Admiring people when they talk

She loves to watch you do this to the other members

The way you look at them is just so full of endearment and love that it makes her heart burst

But when it's her turn to be admired by you, she always gets a bit shy

Cue blushy Jiu

She loves it, though, and you both know it

And to be fair, she partakes in her habit alllll the time. She's almost always admiring you and the girls in some way, and she never hides her adoration. So it's only right that she gets a taste of her own medicine

You tend to be a sentimental drunk, so anytime you drink together she catches you doing it a lot. You’ll be close to her and just silently regarding her with a sweet smile as she says something to the girls; when she eventually notices, she’ll hide behind her hands and shy away.

You also tend to do it during livestreams and interviews, which drives her crazy and embarrasses the hell out of her.

In fact, the very first time she found out that you had picked up her habit was thanks to the host of a variety show you were appearing on for one of your comebacks.

(>.<)

Jiu’s eyes were bright and shining in the special way that they do as she answered the host’s latest question. She smiled widely as she gushed about how hard everyone had worked to prepare for the comeback and how lucky she felt to be surrounded by such talented and kind people.

Meanwhile you were sitting a few seats away from her and leaning forward in your chair a bit to get a clear view of her. The grin on your face mirrored hers as you looked on, totally enamored and falling more and more in love as she went on. You just couldn’t help yourself; she looked so pretty and radiant like that. So genuinely happy and pure.

Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman picked up on your lovesickness and zoomed in to capture the moment as it unfolded (when you watched the episode later on, you learned that the editing team had had a field day with that clip. They plastered a plethora of heart emojis on your face to really drive it all home).

The host noticed, too, after a moment, and he jokingly teased you for it. Jiu’s cheeks took on a pink tint almost immediately, and she squealed when she looked over and locked eyes with you. She hid behind Yoohyeon until you stopped, fearing that her reaction would give away her very obvious feelings for you and provide your shippers with a little too much evidence for the next video that they would inevitably make.

Once you relented and the interviewer moved onto the next question, she took a deep breath.

A few minutes passed, and your moment with Jiu had begun to fade to the back of your mind. Dami was the next to answer the host’s question; as she began sharing her response, you heard a quiet psst from nearby. Upon searching, you found it to be your girlfriend, leaning behind the girls to get your sole attention.

She grinned at you, still blushing, and held her two fingers up to you in the shape of a heart.

“Saranghae,” she mouthed, just to you. The moment was precious and intimate as you hid away from the cameras, in your own little bubble.

You blew her a kiss, which she caught and pressed to her chest before leaning forward again, like nothing had happened.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Sua

Habit: Being clingy and affectionate

As we know, Sua is the human embodiment of affection. She can't go more than a few minutes without kissing you or being close to you in some way, whether that's a simple hand on your thigh or her head on your shoulder.

Her touch always has a way of calming you down and providing comfort. She always knows just what to do to make you feel better – especially when you’re stressed and just really in need of some attention.

She holds you and looks at you like you’re her entire world.

Ever since she expressed how much she loves your affection and touch as well, you’ve given her more and more of it. It brings out Soft Bora, after all, and there’s nothing as precious as that

Her pretty smile is always so cute to see

And, considering you're around her 24/7, it truly was only a matter of time before her habits rubbed off on you.

(>.<)

It was a cold, rainy day in Korea when you and the girls decided to gather in the living room of the dorm and watch a movie together.

Apart from Sua, all of you were lazing about on the couches as it played on the television.

Your girlfriend had slipped away to whip up some food for all of you once she caught wind of your shared plans; she always loved to provide for you in that way and show how much she cared. You often joked that food was her second love language, trailing right after physical touch.

The movie held your interest for the first few minutes that it was on, but eventually you began to find the paint on the walls more noteworthy than what was on screen. You knew it was simply because you missed Sua, though, so you excused yourself and headed to the kitchen.

She greeted you with a smile as you entered, and you found her standing in front of the oven, stirring a pan that contained one of her latest tasty creations. You grinned lazily, feeling some tension leave your body at the mere sight of her; she was dressed in one of your hoodies, and clearly comfortable.

You padded over and wrapped your arms around her, holding her close in a long back hug.

Even when she had to grab some seasonings from a nearby cabinet, you didn’t let go of her; your refusal to do so made her feel more loved than you even realized at the time. It’s not often that people match her level of clinginess, so the fact that you were the one who did made it ten times better to her.

When she returned to her original spot and you tightened your arms around her waist, she let her free hand skim down to yours, which she held lovingly. Her fingers intertwined with yours, and she felt your cheek press to her back as your body aligned with her own. Holding you and having that special moment with you really comforted her and made her happy.

The cherry on top came when you lightly bit her shoulder, like she always does to you. It drew soft laughter from her, and she turned around enough to press a kiss to your lips.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Siyeon

Habit: Zoning out / pinching people

Some InSomnias began making edits and compilations of you zoning out when they noticed that you had taken up Siyeon’s habit. They were some of the first to spot it.

You definitely watch those videos together.

The girls tease both of you for it. They say you’re so in love that your brains are linked (and you share the same brain cells)

Or lack thereof

Siyeon thinks you look adorable when you just stop what you’re doing and pause for a moment, letting the wheels of your mind turn. Other times you go full “no thoughts, head empty” and she can relate.

It makes her laugh honestly. Both of you end up laughing together anytime you catch each other doing it.

But that isn’t the only habit of hers that you picked up…

(>.<)

Moonlight snuck its way into the dorm through the gap in the curtains that Yoohyeon had forgotten to fully close earlier. Its gentle glow lit up the kitchen, where you stood next to a busy Siyeon. The microwave’s clock read 3:19 AM.

A pot of noodles bubbled on the stove in front of you, thanks to her. When you had been lounging around with her in your shared room a few minutes ago and she heard your stomach growl, she decided to come in here and fix a late night snack for the both of you.

As she stirred the contents together and watched steam billow upwards with a proud smile, she felt a subtle pinch on the back of her arm.

She glanced back at you, only to find that you were zoned out again as your fingers mindlessly toyed with her soft skin. The feeling warmed her heart; it was gentle, and even while your mind floated around in outer space, you still stayed grounded with her in that little way.

It elicited a soft chuckle from her, which snapped you back to reality. When you laughed at yourself and lowered your hand, though, your gaze dropped to the floor. It was obvious that you were embarrassed.

She simply leaned over and raised your head, planting a soft kiss against your lips. Her eyes were full of love as she peered back at you, admiring you.

“You’re precious, jagi. Don’t be shy.”

Her words only made you blush harder and hide your face in her shoulder, seeking a reprieve from your embarrassment.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Handong

Habit: Making faces // judging the members

You have a lot of things in common with Dongie. Getting homesick easily, being introverted at times, having witty comebacks, etc.

But probably the biggest trait you share is your playful judginess

The more time you spend with her, the more savage you become. (All in good fun, though. She simply encourages your teasing)

You usually end up locking eyes across the room while cringing at something one of the members are doing

She absolutely loves the fact that the two of you are so in tune with one another

It leads to a lot of laughter

The girls usually complain that you gang up on them to bully them

Partners in crime

Plenty of content for Somnies to make videos of, too.

(>.<)

During the making of Love Stealer, you were gathered in a dressing room with Yoohyeon, Sua, and Handong while you waited for your individual photoshoots to begin. You were scrolling on your phone as your makeup artist applied a few touch-ups, and Sua and Yooh were talking to the camera for some behind the scenes content.

The second oldest had stolen some candy from one of the staff members earlier, and Yoohyeon was asking for it. The price she had to pay? Her pride, evidently, as Sua ordered that she do aegyo to prove how badly she wanted it.

She clearly thought that that would deter the younger girl and allow her to keep the candy for herself, but she was wrong. Yoohyeon launched into an incredibly embarrassing display of over-the-top cuteness, complete with a baby-voice and sad little pout as she regarded her unnie.

The noise made you look up and over at the pair, unable to fight the grimace showing on your face. The cameraman picked up on your reaction and panned to you, allowing you to look at the audience like you were in an episode of The Office.

Instinctually, you glanced over at Handong and found that she was sporting the same expression. The camera followed your line of sight, capturing her recoiling in her seat with an even bigger grimace than you.

Laughter burst from her when you locked eyes, and Yoohyeon shouted at both of you. She cupped the camera lens and redirected it to her face, pouting as she asked, “Somnies, can’t you see how mean they are?”

Both of you stood up and joined the other two in front of the cameraman; your arms wound around Yoohyeon’s waist, and Handong poked her cheek repeatedly as a way of apologizing.

“Can you blame us?” Dongie earnestly asked after a beat passed, earning herself a smack to the shoulder.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Yoohyeon

Habit: Staying up late to play video games

During one of her birthday gaming livestreams, she invited you to join her

Ever since then, you’ve been hooked. You’re totally her gaming partner

The Player 2 to her Player 1, if you will. You have matching set ups

It’s super relaxing for you guys

It made her so happy when you started playing more and more and becoming interested in her favorite games

Both of you are already night owls by nature and stay up later than most of the other members, but when you game it’s a whole nother story.

She loves to enter into that hazy, loopy, 4 AM state of existence with you when you’re both fully aware that you should be asleep but you’re having too much fun to stop

Snacking with her in between rounds and sneaking some victory kisses here and there

Losing your mind over how cute she looks with her headset on, and her squealing over your adorable sleepy smile

The two of you cuddle up together once you finally decide to tumble into bed

(>.<)

A yawn slipped past Yoohyeon’s lips as she rolled over in bed and blindly reached for her phone in the dark. Her fingers eventually made contact with the cold screen, and she picked it up. Light cast on her face and she winced, cursing under her breath until her eyes began to adjust.

2:37 AM, it displayed, as she swiped up and input her code. She had been having trouble sleeping for the past hour and a half; she just couldn’t unwind no matter how hard she tried, and she was growing bored of attempting to.

She opened one of her homepage’s folders and clicked the mobile game that she had been into recently. It was her tried-and-true solution for restlessness.

A list of players available for invite popped up beside her character, and she mindlessly scrolled for a bit as the game loaded up. When she spotted your gamertag, her eyes widened immediately and she sat up a little in bed. A green dot pulsed from the bottom of your profile picture, confirming that you really were active.

She clicked on your name and invited you, only to grin when you accepted it within a matter of seconds.

–

“Yes!” You whisper-screamed, shaking your fist in the air triumphantly. Your screen displayed a winning title and showed the prizes you had earned. As you clicked through them, you heard a knock at the door.

A little confused, you stood up and turned your bedside lamp on before meandering over to it. When you cracked it open, you found a cozy looking Yoohyeon smiling at you from the other side. You opened up and let her slip past you without a second thought, but before you had time to fully shut the door behind her, she was pushing you up against it and stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

You blushed and allowed her to do as she pleased, kissing back.

“Did you think I wouldn’t get my victory kiss just because it’s late?” She asked against your lips, smiling gently.

“I-I…” You stammered, incapable of forming coherent thoughts due to your sleep deprivation and her ministrations. It truly was a deadly combo.

She just giggled in response, fully aware of the effect she had on you. “Let’s play another round or two,” she commanded, taking a few steps back as she pulled on your hand to encourage you to follow her.

You merely nodded and climbed into the bed after her, settling down at her side. She cozied up against you, and the two of you quickly joined a lobby together and readied your characters up for the next round.

Her eyes scanned across the matching outfits that your avatars wore, and she briefly glanced down at you afterward. Warmth radiated from your body, comforting her in ways nothing else could; you fit against her perfectly. Your chest rose and fell softly, and your blinking was showing signs of becoming heavier and heavier. Such a precious sight to her.

She was so busy admiring you that she nearly missed the start of the match; the only thing that drew her from her dorky stupor was the soft poke you applied to her side. She simply smiled and snuggled a little closer, reveling in the moment you were sharing.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Dami

Habit: Reading often (does this count as a habit?)

Ever since she started recommending books and poetry to you, you started adding them to a list

One day, she finds it

Aaaand she also finds you sitting by the window in the dorm, reading from the first book on the list. It warms her heart to see you all cuddled up and invested in the words on the page, completely tuned out to what’s happening around you

She also loves the fact that you actually take her recommendations to heart. Other people just brush them off, but you never do

She takes you on dates to local cafes and bookstores, and the two of you cozy up next to the hearths there and read together. Sometimes she’ll pull your legs up across her lap so you can be close together in real life while your minds wander around in the worlds you’re reading of

She always keeps an eye out for new releases that you might like, and she’s super good at it because she knows you so well

Uses the titles of the books on your shelf to spell out little messages for you. Usually “I love you” or one of the million pet names she calls you

Matching bookmarks

You in glasses? Definitely does something to her (and vice versa)

(>.<)

“Are you almost here, my love?” You asked into the phone, securing it between your cheek and shoulder as you rifled through the bag in your hands.

“Almost. Shouldn’t be too much longer,” she sighed, sounding a little tired. You could hear one of the managers say something to her in the background.

“I love you. See you soon.”

–

Dami was visibly exhausted as she shuffled into the dorm and sat her bag down in the entryway. You weren’t waiting at the door to greet her like she was expecting, and a frown worked its way onto her face because of that. The dorm in general was far quieter than usual, and it confused her. But she didn’t have the energy to question it, and so with a soft tut she padded into the living room.

When she opened the door, she was not prepared in the slightest for what awaited her.

“Surprise!” You shouted, followed by a chorus of cheers from the girls. Sua and Yoohyeon released party poppers into the air, and their resulting confetti showers landed on Dami.

She was clearly confused and taken aback.

“Look at what I got for you,” you said, gaining her attention as you held out a box to her. She raised a brow at you, but your subsequent nudging convinced her to take it and open it up.

The cover of a brand-new book gleamed at her, and as she read the title she realized it was the latest release of one of her favorite authors. She had wanted to buy it herself and even attend the signing event that the author had announced, but her schedules had gotten in the way.

Her eyes raised to yours, full of pleasant shock and disbelief. So much pure love was conveyed through her simple gaze that it made your heart ache a little.

“Open it,” you smiled proudly.

She did, and her hand immediately shot up to her mouth. The author’s bold signature adorned the inside of the cover, and a sweet message was etched above it, personally addressed to her.

“Y/N…” she whispered. When she looked at you again, she noticed the rest of the girls grinning at her from all around you. They were happily watching your moment unfold.

“I went to the signing today,” you explained with a wide smile, unable to help yourself after seeing her reaction. It was everything you'd hoped for. “...couldn’t miss out.”

Dami sat the book back down in the box and put it on the coffee table before approaching you. Her arms wrapped around you and pulled you in for a tight hug. “Thank you, jagi. I love it,” she said lowly, her voice altered slightly with how her cheek was pressed against your shoulder.

“I love you,” she added, as she pulled back enough to look at you. You shied away, slightly taken aback by the way she was looking at you, but she didn’t accept that for long. Her hand cupped your cheek as she turned your face towards hers again and leaned in to kiss you.

The girls all squealed and cheered; some teasingly groaned, too, but they were all happy to see you so happy. It was a perfect memory for all of you.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Gahyeon

Habit: Pouting

She’s truly the queen of whining and pouting

You’re the only one capable of rivaling her abilities

When both of you want the same thing, sometimes you find yourselves having a sort of pout-off to see who can guilt trip the rest of the girls (or each other) more

With her protected status as maknae, that can definitely be a challenging task

But you give her a run for her money a lot of the time

She complains about the fact that you pout as well as you do, but secretly she loves how you look when you do. The way your lips purse and your eyes turn puppy-like never fails to make her grin

She almost always gives in and gives you whatever you want

She squishes your cheeks and kisses your frown away

You started mimicking her habit more and more when you saw the effect it had on her. Plus it was another method to use to tease her

She noticed it gradually, when you did it more often

She secretly really really loves it. You’re so adorable to her

(>.<)

The two of you were at a diner one evening, casually munching on your food beneath the fluorescent lights of the establishment. A few remaining streaks of daylight stretched across the sky, but the Sun had already set a few minutes prior.

Soft clanking sounds filled the dining area, and the many different conversations that were taking place amongst the patrons around you all melded together to create a lively hum.

Through the windows beside your booth you could see the cars that drove by outside, passing by in zips and whizzes of tail lights and tires.

As you took another bite of the dish you had ordered, you glanced longingly at the fresh batch of fries that gleamed on Gahyeon’s plate. Steam still emitted from them, and the salt that adorned their crisp surfaces seemed to sparkle.

She saw you in her peripheral, and she smiled before she even fully looked up at you. Around a mouthful of her sandwich, she asked, “Do you want some, baby?”

You swallowed and nodded, waiting for her to raise her head. When she finally did, she was smirking. “Too bad.”

“Yah! Gahyeon!” You whined, stomping your foot beneath the table.

She snickered when you scowled, knitting your brows together and looking adorably upset. You crossed your arms and looked away with a huff. How rude of her…

“Here, Y/N/N,” she giggled, sliding the plate a little closer to you. “You’ve convinced me.”

Your face lit up immediately and you grabbed a couple, eager to taste them. As you took a bite, you realized that they were even better than you had imagined they’d be.

You plucked another from the batch and held it up to her, and she opened her mouth for you to feed it to her. She hummed at the flavor as well.

“You know, I got them for you anyway,” she added after a minute, admiring you with a soft smile as she watched you enjoy them. She loved to see you eat well.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I knew you’d be stealing mine if I didn’t order enough for you, too…”

“Hey!” You shouted in retaliation at her remark, and tossed a fry at her.

It hit her right in the forehead, and she pretended to cry upon impact. She whined like you had before and rubbed the area, acting as though it had really hurt her.

You kissed your fingertips before pressing them to the spot, and she stopped immediately, as if nothing had happened. The childish scowl on her face disappeared, and her lips stopped their famous pouting within a second.

The two of you laughed together, completely oblivious to the waiter that stood behind the counter, eyeing you oddly.

Even if you had noticed him, you wouldn’t have cared. You were odd together, and that’s all that mattered.

<><><><><><><><><><>

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ms-cartoon · 2 years ago

Text

So, I've been coming across a lot of clips of Wizards of Waverly Place on tik tok. I'm sure all the 2000s kids remember that show. Selena Gomez was the ish back then (and she still is). Usually, I would go back and re-watch some episodes just to get that good nostalgic feel. But I REFUSE to watch the later seasons! They just end up getting on my nerves! Plus, my moods are always ruined when Justin Russo shows his face.

Okay, it's mainly the fact that Alex is always getting blamed for almost every single conflict that occurs. I'm not gonna say it's never her fault, cuz she does have her moments, but sometimes when she uses magic, it's mostly with good intentions, just played out wrong. And she usually owns up to her mistakes and makes sure to fix the problem. But it's like, EVERYBODY is ALWAYS calling her out and most of the time, it's not even fully her fault! It gets worse to the point where her own freakin parents start to love her best friend more than their own daughter and they always compare her to Justin, saying that he's a much better kid and he would never cause trouble!! Do they not realize how bad they make her feel when they do that, and they are supposed to be the parents? They're supposed to be more mature and wise for their kids, but all they really do is pick favorites and compare one kid to the other. They rarely even stick up for her or praise her when she really deserved it.

The only traits Alex has that are bad about her are that she's selfish and mean. Like I said, she has her moments, but she has good intentions. She's the main one to fix any problems that occur to the Russos' and was the main one to save the world several times- WHERE'S HER THANK YOU?? She doesn't get one, just more trash talk and finger-pointing from Justin and her parents.

And y'all know Justin always gotta the first to rub it in her face and play the blame game.

Justin wasn't even that bad in the early seasons. I actually tolerated him a little bit (though he still annoyed me). But in the later seasons, he just becomes more selfish, vindictive, antagonistic, and just plain cruel. He didn't even wanna show his full support for his sister when she won wizard of the year. In fact, he was more jealous, berating and disrespecting Alex, complaining that he should've won. But like sir- you don't even deserve that title. Like wha- You put your own family in danger, TWICE!! Not once, but TWICE!! And who was the one to save even you from that danger? ALEX!!

Justin had a crush on a dark angel. Loved her so much, he joined the side of the Angels of Darkness and let them take over. Not only did he put the world in danger, he also put his own family in danger! And all because he was such a simp for this one girl!! And guess who had to save his a**!

There was another situation the Russos' got involved in, and the show makes it seem like it was Alex's fault when Justin was the one that caused the problem. Like that time when Justin revealed to the FBI that wizards exist and that he, along with his family was one of the few. He got NO repercussions for it as far as I've heard. But when Alex is the one to confess to the media that they're wizards, and only to fix the situation that was happening, she is the one to get blamed when originally, Justin was the first to spill the tea.

I could name plenty of more reasons why Justin didn't deserve the wizard of the year award, but those are just my main ones.

I don't think he felt genuinely bad about the way he spoke about her at all. The only time he did feel bad is when it came time for his video about Alex to be shown to everyone during that ceremony. He probably didn't even wanna admit he was wrong for it. He is such a horrible brother!!! He really needed a good talking-to after all that. Theresa and Jerry, that's where you should've come in!

And then we have the finale where they're in the middle of the Wizard Competition. Harper and Zeke get themselves in danger and are captured by a griffin, and who was the main one that suggested they go and save them? Alex! She literally had to beg Justin to help save them, but Justin, being the selfish prick that he is was more concerned about staying in the competition and winning. It is beyond ridiculous that Alex had to beg Justin to save his best friend! Didn't even care that his best friend might die!! By the time they came back, their free time had run out and they got disqualified, losing their magic powers. Leave it to Justin to play the blame game and point fingers at Alex like he always does. He didn't even care that it was a matter of his friends' safety, he cared more about being a wizard and winning a stupid competition. And there was also a scene in that same episode while they were working, Alex was giving someone their order and Justin threw something at her, causing her to drop the order on the customer! Like dude- are you serious?? Are you that pressed???

Theresa, Jerry... do you still think Justin is the better kid? Even after Alex risked her life/her happiness, putting her selfish wants aside to help and save others?

And then there's Max, bro!! For some reason, he starts to gang up on Alex too. Pointing fingers at her as well for doing the right thing. Omg, this girl just can't get enough. And usually, people felt more bad for Max as well, believing he doesn't get enough appreciation and recognition as a wizard in the family, but he really annoyed me in this episode!! He was mainly just following Justin, being horrible to Alex too. Even if he didn't get to keep his powers, I didn't feel bad for him one bit! It's not like he was gonna win the competition or keep his powers anyway and he probably knew that!!

What made me more pissed is that Theresa and Jerry didn't even stick up for Alex. They see that Justin and Max are ganging up on her, belittling her and just letting it happen. Then saying stuff like, "You guys seriously need to get it together and stop all this fighting!"

You guys??! Alex is the victim here! She did not deserve any of this disrespect! She was casually working and Justin threw something at her because of his resentment, y'know, like a mature adult. And Max came at her just because! Why aren't y'all criticizing Justin or Max for their behavior? They were the main ones acting up!

It doesn't even help that Alex had to be the one to apologize at the end of the episode....

Y'all, Alex was the only one to apologize!!

"Guys, I'm sorry for getting you to help me save our friends from a bloodthirsty monster instead of staying and competing in the competition. Because having our magic and being a family wizard is much more important than Harper and Zeke's safety."

She didn't say those exact words, but she might as well have. I don’t understand how Alex could put up with all that disrespect. If I was her, I probably would’ve left the family and probably never come back. I might just make a fanfiction about that.

I feel like I can point out plenty of reasons why the show just faltered a little to me, but Imma just leave it at that for now. All in all, Justin's a horrible brother and a horrible character. Max, I agree he deserves better too, but he mainly just got on my nerves that one episode. Teresa and Jerry are terriblev parents and didn't raise their kids right. Alex especially deserved better and Harper is the realist, point blank.

#wizards of waverly place #wizards of wavery place rant #rant #review #criticism #critisism #critique #critical #alex russo #Screw Justin!!#Alex deserved better

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jeyramarie · 4 years ago

Note

Hi if you’re requests are open and if you write for Florence Pugh would you be able to do a flo x reader(female) maybe they worked on little women together as reader is an actress too and maybe it’s a running joke between the cast and crew to video tape flo and reader being cute together( etc, like they are always hugging when they are shooting scenes in the cold and they always nap together and they always kiss each other between takes) and maybe the cast go for an interview and Soairse just pulls up the video and teases them and cue the couple being flustered as ever and the internet goes crazy over it

Of course it’s a okay if you can’t do this request thank you for taking the time to read it and I hope you have brilliant day/Night! Take care😘

OMG I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS 😭😭😭

the movie title is made up, it would be the best movie though 😂

sorry it took a while, college is killing me🙃also sorry i changed it a bit 👀

“Welcome back everyone, tonight we have the cast of the brand new action movie ‘On the hunt’ coming out this summer. Give it up for Saoirse Ronan, Y/n Y/l/n, Florence Pugh and Dwayne Johnson.” James Corden smiled as the crowd began to clap. The cast walked out in the order that they were announced and sat on the sofa after greeting James.

“Hi.” “Hello.” “Hi, everyone.” They all said as they waited for the cheers to calm down.

“Welcome guys, it’s so good to have you here.” James smiled.

“It’s great to be here.” Y/n chuckled looking at her cast mates.

“Alright, so this movie tackles a lot of action. Florence, I heard you got hurt while filming?”

“Oh I did, multiple times. I ended up with so many bruises everywhere.” The blonde answered as she made hand gestures around her body.

“Sometimes after really long days of shooting, we would get into ice baths.” Saoirse added, looking at her cast mates who nodded along with her.

“They were very much needed for all of us.” Dwayne laughed causing the girls and James to chuckle.

“Well, Y/n you already worked with Saoirse and Florence in Little Women. How did it feel to reunite with them in this film?”

“It felt great, it’s always good to see familiar faces. I love these two ladies. They’ve become such important people in my life, I’m beyond thankful for this opportunity to be able to do this film with them.” She smiled and Florence leaned into her shoulder in the form of a hug. The crowd awed as well as Dwayne who was internally fangirling for them.

“Well, I’ve seen many things about you and Florence on social media-“ The crowd cheered cutting James off which caused the girls to smile and slightly blush. The screams died down and the british man continued.

“There’s many things about you guys like ship names and cute edits. What about that?”

“Wait, people made a ship name?” Y/n asked surprised on how many people paid attention to them.

“Yeah, it’s y/ship/name.” James laughed as Y/n turned to Florence with a confused face.

“It’s not surprising with how much time these two spend together.” Saoirse added, pointed at the women next to her.

“What?” Y/n asked sarcastically as she flipped her hair back, making the crowd chuckle.

“Roll the clip, guys.” James laughed and turned to the tv they had in front of the stage.

The videos started and it was a montage filled with pictures and clips of Y/n and Florence. There were a couple on set and off set, like for instance at Flo’s house. Some particular clips and pics of your trip to Italy hit close to home. They both looked smitten with each other at that vacation and Timothée was there to capture it.

Once it was over, everyone was clapping and cheering as Y/n and Florence blushed on the couch. The world couldn’t see it but the blonde was rubbing her pinkie against the y/h/c’s hand. Y/n turned to the blonde and smiled as she grabbed her hand tightly. They both stared lovingly at each other for a bit before turning forward.

“I saw you guys kind of had a moment there.” James teased pointing at the women who were incredibly flustered at the moment.

“Whaaaat? James… come on.” Florence replied sarcastically as she covered her face with one hand.

“Don’t get shy on me now, little Miss Pugh.” Y/n smiled as the crowd cheered at them.

“Well that’s all we have for today, give it up for Saiorse Ronan, Y/n Y/l/n, Florence Pugh and Dwayne Johnson. Make sure to watch their brand new ‘On the hunt’.” James said and stood up as the whole cast stood up too. The talk show host said goodbye to the cast as they went to commercial break.

“We should really post a pic when we get home.” Florence whispered to Y/n walking backstage.

“Oh yeah, we can post the one we took yesterday in the backyard.” The y/h/c smiled, facing the blonde as she grabbed her hands. Flo nodded with a sweet smile and leaned in, giving Y/n a soft peck.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh smut #florence pugh angst #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh #florence pugh blurb

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

The Wrong Lifetime — Fourteen // Wanda Maximoff

chapter thirteen | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | epilogue

author’s note: the last chapter is finally here! i hope you like it 😊

There were many times when I'd get distracted by thoughts of Wanda.

I could be going for a walk and remember that time she tripped over the flat pavement, almost bringing me down with her. I could be shopping for stationary and remember that time she almost bought the whole shop in one visit. I could be sitting by the water fountain and remember that time she tried to make a wish, only to drop her whole purse in it.

This time, I'd just woken up to the sun streaming through my curtains. I rolled over to an empty bed, hand brushing against the cold sheets as they expected more. For some reason, my subconscious decided to taunt me with a memory taking place just after we'd first made love in her room...

"I love you so much," Wanda told me with an enchanting smile.

I turned to face her, one arm comfortable under the pillow as the other rested outside the duvet, covering my bare chest. She raised her hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear before resting her hand there. I smiled at the contact and felt a warmth spreading all over me at the affectionate gaze she sent my way.

"I know, love, you only said it several times," I teased lightly, making her chuckle. "I love you, too, though, in case you didn't know."

She sighed contently, eyes closing. I admired how beautiful she looked with her hair sprawled over her bare shoulders, smile on her lips and freckles dusting her skin. Her touch still ghosted my body, taste still embedded between my lips, scent still wavering in my nose. She was permanent and I was certain she'd never leave.

"We should probably get up in case somebody comes to check on us," she said, interrupting my moment of admiration.

Her eyes flickered open slowly, blue with golden flecks glistening right back at me. Suddenly, anything that happened after this didn't matter to me. For once, I appreciated where we were, what we had and nothing more or less. No wedding, no future... just now.

"We should," I agreed regretfully, though her leg moved closer to mine and made me wish we could stay here longer. "I wish we didn't have to."

She smiled halfheartedly, hand moving down my cheek, caressing the skin, before they rested at my chin. She outlined my lips with her thumb before leaning forward and stealing a kiss.

"Can't we have a few more minutes?" she asked, lips brushing mine as she spoke.

She was making it very hard to deny her and judging from the playful smirk on her lips, she knew that.

"I guess we can," I agreed quietly, making her smile with satisfaction.

She rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss as her bare chest pressed to mine and my hand found her waist for support. As usual, the effect she had on me was indescribable and I couldn't imagine us ever leaving the bed. I knew for sure that I'd never been happier than I was in that moment.

It was such a perfect moment, but it haunted me. Nothing felt right without her. She'd overwhelmed all of my senses and remained, even when I didn't have her by me in person. The wedding was literally in a few weeks, but I hadn't managed to get over her.

How could I be her maid of honour when I could barely speak to her? Not without wanting to curl in a ball and cry afterwards. Every thing I did seemed to be filled with memories of her. She was inescapable.

A groan left my lips as I dragged my hand down my face with frustration. I couldn't let her get to me yet again. I had an interview with the local paper today. The last thing I needed was Wanda as a distraction.

So, with that lovely thought lingering in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

—

Press interviews weren't something I was used to.

Whenever Y/B/N had them with journalists for his books, I wasn't present. The only thing I heard was when he came back and told me how it went, then I proceeded to read about it in the paper the next day.

I was sat in Steve's office at Maximoff Publishing with Steve sat by my side, sending me a supportive smile. A journalist from the local paper sat before us, notebook and pen in hand as he watched on with curious eyes.

"So, Y/N," he began. "I'll start with the obvious, if you don't mind."

I glanced at Steve who nodded encouragingly. Clearing my throat, I looked to the journalist. "Sure thing."

He smiled and glanced at his notebook before asking, "How does it feel to be published? You're Pietro Maximoff's first female author."

"An author who happens to be female," I corrected, hoping I didn't come off as rude. "And that isn't something that should be new, in my opinion. It should be normalised."

He nodded, noting it down in his notebook. "Controversy... I like it."

Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I think the readers would like to know how you managed to score a publisher," he began his next question. "How exactly did you get noticed amongst the many authors that look to be published?"

Okay, not so difficult, I could answer that.

"Well, it was actually my–" I paused, Wanda's face flashing to mind. Okay, maybe a little difficult.

"Your...?" the journalist prompted.

I blinked, attempting to find my words.

"Wanda," Steve answered, starting me off.

I looked to him with grateful eyes before looking back to the journalist. "Right. Yes. Wanda."

"Your brother's fiancé, right?" the journalist asked for clarification.

"Yes," I answered, with an accidental clipped tone. "She... she was the one who gave my work to her brother. Asked him to look at it. And the rest is history."

The journalist was making notes as I spoke, nodding and humming in response, before looking to me with raised brows.

"So, the wedding," he said, making me wince subtly. "Are you excited?"

Forcing a smile, I said, "Ecstatic."

"How does it feel to have your two families uniting?" he asked, and I chewed on my lips, unsure how to respond.

"I– er–"

"Are you afraid that Y/B/N marrying Wanda may put him in Pietro's good graces?" he interrupted eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't land me in hot water or make me look like a jealous sibling. Glancing to Steve questioningly, he thankfully noticed my speechlessness and gave the journalist a warning stare.

"Can you stay on topic, please?" he asked the keen journalist. "Y/N is here to talk about her book and nothing more."

"Okay, okay," the journalist gave in, making me exhale slowly. "What's next in store for your readers, Y/N? A sequel, perhaps?"

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "I'm still in awe at the reception from the first one."

He nodded, note taking as he listened. "How many books do you think you'll get out of your career before getting married like your brother?"

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. But I didn't get to answer as he was already moving onto his next question.

"Are you not worried about getting married? You know, men don't like smart women."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I clenched my fists by my side and was very close to strangling him before we were interrupted. A servant whom I recognised from home knocked on the door and earned everyone's attention.

"Oh, tell him to go away," the journalist said dismissively, waving his hand.

Steve looked to me and I plastered a bitter smile on my lips as I glanced at the journalist.

"I'd let him in if I were you," I told Steve, and he seemed to understand that I was about to pummel the journalist if I wasn't distracted, because he nodded and motioned for the servant to enter.

The journalist sighed rudely and I clenched my jaw before looking to the servant with a quirked brow. He looked out of breath, panting for air and face flushed red.

"Did you run here?" I realised, cocking my head to the side with confusion.

He nodded, straightening up and attempting to catch his breath. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Very sorry to interrupt, but your mother insisted I hurry."

My eyes widened. "Oh, God, what happened? Is she okay?"

"Kind of," he answered, before clarifying, "The wedding between your brother and Miss Maximoff has been cancelled."

"What?!" everyone in the room asked at the same time.

What did he mean the wedding had been cancelled?! Wanda and Y/B/N weren't going to get married?

"I don't know the details," the servant got out quickly. "I just know that your mother sent me to fetch you as soon as possible. She's distraught and requires you home immediately."

I nodded instantly, already making a move to stand up, then I remembered where I was.

"You mustn't publish anything you just heard," I told the journalist with a stern finger, but he seemed over the moon at the news.

"Go, Y/N, your mother needs you," Steve said, resting a hand on my shoulder as he, too, stood up. He side-eyed the journalist as he added, "I'll take care of this tool."

At that, the journalist's eyes widened with fear and judging from the smirk on Steve's lips, I knew things would be okay.

"Thank you," I told him, hugging him quickly, before looking to the servant. "I'll go now. Thank you."

After giving the servant some money to grab a treat and calm him from his breathless state, I got a carriage home with my mind racing a million thoughts a minute.

Why was the wedding off? My mum was distraught, according to the servant, so that could only mean it hadn't been her choice. Was it Y/B/N? Had he broken it off? Or maybe it was Wanda? But no. She'd never do that. She wouldn't hurt her family like that.

I wasn't sure what it was, but I definitely didn't know how to feel. This could either be heavily in my favour or go against me in the worst way possible...

When I arrived home, I found my family in the dining room. My mum was sat down, upset and shaking her head in her hands, tear marks on her face. My dad was sat beside her, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering calming things to her as my brother stood to the side, looking apologetic and uncomfortable.

"It's okay, mum, it'll be okay," he was saying to her from across the table. "It's not a big deal. I can find somebody–"

"Hello...," I began awkwardly, standing in the doorway and hesitant to move forward. "I just got the news from our servant. What happened?"

"Oh, Y/N, you shouldn't have–" my father began regretfully, before my mum slammed her hand on the table and glared at my brother.

"Y/B/N broke off the engagement!" she shouted with frustration.

"There you go...," my dad mumbled before returning his attention to his wife.

"Mum, I–"

"You did what?!" I cut Y/B/N off with raised brows. "You broke off the engagement? You dumped Wanda?"

He looked to me with sad eyes. "Y/N–"

"You idiot!" I shouted, feeling angry as I imagined the effect this must have had on the Maximoff family. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you–?!"

He grabbed my waving arm and dragged me out of the dining room, making me shove him off when we reached the hall.

"Why the hell did you break it off?!" I yelled at him with a glare. "Why would you–"

"I didn't!" he whisper-shouted back, looking down at me with a downcast expression. "She did!"

My anger faded as I realised he was telling the truth. He looked genuinely hurt, eyes glassy and a frown on his lips. Wanda was the one to break it off? What?

"She broke it off with me," he elaborated quietly, so our parents couldn't hear. "She told me this morning. She said she didn't love me and that she couldn't marry me."

I swallowed hard, looking away from him momentarily. "Why did you tell mum and dad that it was you who broke up with her?"

He pinched his forehead with agitation. "Because it looks a lot less foolish if I say it was me rather than her. She doesn't love me, Y/N. She never did."

I risked looking at him, seeing his disheartened expression. Part of me felt guilty because I knew it was my fault this had happened, but I couldn't exactly say that to him, so I stayed quiet. He shook his head once more before walking away, leaving me standing there with shock.

"Er, Miss Y/L/N?"

I spun around when one of our servants approached me.

"I know now isn't the best time," she began, "but a letter came for you earlier. I left it on your desk as you were at work."

Nodding, I offered the servant a halfhearted smile before watching her leave. There was so much to unpack right now...

I headed upstairs and to my room to see what letter was here for me. But I was finding it hard to focus since all that was on my mind was the broken engagement and Y/B/N and Wanda... I needed to see her. What the hell was I doing here?

Planning on going to see Wanda as soon as possible, I grabbed the letter from my desk with the intention of reading it on the way out, but then I recognised the handwriting on the front and paused at my desk.

It was Wanda's handwriting.

I hurried to tear open the envelope, wondering what she had to say. It was no doubt related to the broken engagement.

Dearest Y/N,

I hope that you manage to read this letter before you hear the news, but knowing our families, you'll read it afterwards. In which case, you will know that I have broken off the engagement with Y/B/N.

It was the right thing to do. I chose to do it and I'm sorry if it's caused tension between your brother and your family, but I knew that I couldn't go forward with it when I'm in love with you. I'm not expecting you to come back to me and run away together all dramatically – this isn't about that.

I did this for myself. I'm not in love with your brother and I never was. He should have known that. He had to. Because if not, I'm afraid I broke his heart. And that's the last thing I wanted.

I also did this for you. I need you to know that I'm not heartless or horrible and I didn't expect you to sacrifice anything for me. Cheating on your brother with you... I never meant for this to happen, nor did I mean to get in the way of you both. Falling in love with you was completely accidental, but I don't regret it.

I don't want to go on too much, but I just needed you to know the truth, from me, that I am truly sorry for causing you such pain. I'm still in love with you and I'll never forget what we had. In another lifetime, maybe we could have worked. I'm certain that you were always perfect for me, as was what we had. You are magic, Y/N. I just wasn't powerful enough to keep you.

When I finished reading, I flipped the page over, expecting to find more, but it was blank. She'd ended it there and I didn't know what to think. My heart was racing, mind adjusting too slowly for my liking. She'd broke it off with him for me. I knew she loved me, but I guess I'd never realised just how much.

After recovering from my shock, I put the letter away and left for Wanda's, not bothering to tell my family where I was going. My dad was attempting to console my disappointed mother as Y/B/N moped around somewhere else, so I took that as my chance to nip out without them noticing.

I was trying to plan what to say to her – I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her. She said she didn't expect me to get back with her, and even without Y/B/N and their engagement in the way, we still couldn't be together. Not like how we wanted to be. But I wanted to. I wanted her. All this time without her had been heartbreaking – I didn't want to leave her again. I didn't know the specifics of how we would work, but we could work. We had to.

When I reached her house, it was her mother who opened the door. And that's when I realised that I wasn't sure if she blamed Y/B/N or her daughter for the engagement breaking apart.

"Iryna, hi," I greeted with a nervous smile. "I'm sorry if this is a bad time–"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're here," she cut me off, immediately pulling me in for a hug. "Thank you for coming."

I nodded with mild confusion, returning the hug, before pulling away.

"I'm so sorry for the pain Wanda has caused to your family," she said regretfully. "I hope that your parents aren't as distraught as we are."

I eyed her strangely, still not sure what Wanda had told her. Either way, I didn't bother questioning it as my urgency to see Wanda was overpowering my curiosity.

"It's okay, Iryna, there's no need to apologise," I reassured her. "My family will be okay... I just thought I'd come and check in on Wanda. It's a lot, what happened."

She nodded sympathetically. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're such a good friend to her." She stood to the side to let me in. "Go on up. She's in her room. Hasn't come out since this morning."

I offered a small, awkward smile Iryna's way before letting myself in and going upstairs to Wanda's room. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry – stupidly juxtaposed – when I stopped before Wanda's door. On the way over here, I still hadn't decided what to say. I figured it would just come to me when I saw her. One could hope.

Knocking on the door, I heard her sweet, accented voice give me permission to enter. My stomach flipped at the sound and I did as she said. Closing the door behind me, I turned and saw Wanda sat at a stool before a canvas.

Noticing I didn't say anything, she glanced over her shoulder casually, probably expecting a family member. She widened her eyes when she realised it was me and immediately stood up, smoothing out her paint-covered smock in an attempt to look neater. The simple action warmed my heart – she was adorable and I couldn't help but smile.

"Hi," I said quietly.

She cleared her throat, eyes darting around nervously. "Hey. I didn't– what are– hi."

I let my eyes wander, admiring her messy ponytail and the strokes of paint on her face that she definitely wasn't aware of. She was stunning, even with her confused eyes and pursed lips. Better yet, her hand was ring-free and I was reminded of the fact that she wasn't engaged anymore.

"I assume you're here because you read the letter," she began apologetically, but I didn't let her finish because the longer I was in her presence, the more I realised I wanted to kiss her.

Approaching her, I found her eyes before pressing my lips to hers. My hands cupped her cheeks as I held her close, revelling in her taste and scent and touch. She was quick to react, her fingers curling around my waist and tugging me towards her, squeezing our bodies together. Breathing became a problem and we regretfully had to pull away, but remained close enough to exchange breaths and swim in each other's eyes. I'd never been more relieved to see the colour green.

"You're not mad," she realised, looking between my eyes as if trying to search for some anger.

"How can I be mad that you broke off your engagement for me, knowing we can never be together in the way that you deserve?" I asked with disbelief.

She smiled beautifully, making my heart flutter in my chest. "You still love me."

I stole another kiss from her lips. "I never stopped, Wanda. Of course I still love you."

She rested her forehead to mine and closed her eyes peacefully. "Thank you for coming back."

I laughed, feeling tears brim my eyes. "I'm not leaving again, love. We'll find a way to make this work. I promise you that."

Wanda Maximoff deserved the world. And I was going to give it to her in this lifetime and beyond.

#wanda maximoff au #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagine #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Green with Envy

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer gets green with envy over something reader can’t control angering reader- hot and heavy makeup sex ensues.

A/N: hey guys 🥺 this is my sixth fic for my 1250 follower celebration and this is a day late- thank you to everyone who was super nice and considerate about me pushing this off till today- I was having a super hard time emotionally last night and I needed some time to myself. Again thanks so so much- this is based off of a combination of this request and this request for jealous Spencer. Also part two to Dr. Jekyll will be out tonight or tomorrow depending on if I can finish it- still a little bit behind schedule from me pushing this off last night. Thanks for reading 🥺

Warnings: 18+, Someone’s harassing reader at work, Spencer is a jerk at first I promise he apologizes, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (F receiving)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k

“Could you go and check case evidence? And bring the detective with you.” Hotch had approached me, giving me orders for the next step to take in the team’s investigation. I accepted them with no discernible dissent in my voice towards Hotch, even though I would have rather stayed with Spencer working on the geographical profile. Especially since the detective had not taken my subtle hints of turning him down when he flirted with me. Unfortunately like many of these instances it was just easier to keep my mouth shut rather than cause problems with the police department we were liaising with. Though I still did know if I’d I had told Hotch he would’ve understood and changed it with a drop of a hat. it was still just easier to not say anything and power through the case, however sad and disappointing it was.

The detective had been hot on my heels ever since we had touched down here. At first it had been endearing and I just carefully let him down, saying a simple no to coffee.

I was sure he got the impression that if he ‘convinced me’ more he’d get me to say yes. I hadn’t told him until later that I had a boyfriend because it hadn’t been his business. I had only told him with a snippy tone in frustration when he would not let up. Unfortunately for me again he seemed to take it as a sign of ‘playing hard to get’ and did not stop his pursuits. I should probably tell Hotch about it before I punch him in the nose.

I was frustrated and annoyed, plus basically every other negative feeling in the book. I just wanted to be alone, or with Spencer.

When I finally got time to slip out of the room for a breather I scampered my way over to where my boyfriend was as he always gave me some sort of solace.

Unfortunately, it seems like the universe was against me this week.

Spencer’s eyes usually held not one ounce of anger, especially not towards me. When he flashed me a glare I got a little angry myself. What had I done to face the wrath of the genius? His demeanor towards me wasn’t doing anything to squash my bad feelings as it normally did, right now it was just fueling the flames.

I decided to just ask him upfront after a third glare was flashed in my direction instead of dancing around the issue any more, we did have a job to do, “Hey- Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His tone was clipped and sharp, sharp enough that it felt like it could cut me.I wouldn’t have been that surprised if it did. It was obvious that ‘nothing’ was not true, there was obviously something going on.

I decided to ask again just to be sure, though there was definitely a possibility I was going to be snapped at again, “Are you sure?”

The harsh glare I was given was more piercing than the previous ones, cutting me deep.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Was whispered shouted at me along with the glare. It took every fiber of my being not to snap his head off even harsher than what he had done to me. Blinking back tears I got up and stormed off, completely done with the day- with this case. I just wanted to put this case behind me, putting it in the files to never be thought about by me again.

—

When we got to the hotel, after we were finished for the day, there was an eerie silence that fell over us. The silence only held for a moment as we stared at each other. I wasn’t going to speak before he was and if it wasn’t an apology I didn’t know if I had the energy left in me to say anything back.

I had ended up telling Hotch what had been going on with the detective, it had become too much for it to be reasonable to brush off (though in a perfect world brushing off someone like that wouldn’t be a reality but that’s just a daydream of mine I guess)

I stood at the other side of the room for a minute waiting to see if he’d say anything or if we’d be dancing around each other like this for the rest of the night.

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, looking like he was trying to collect his thoughts and sat down on one of the beds in the room. I wondered also if I’d be slipping into the second untouched bed by the window tonight.

“I-I’m so sorry.” My only response at first was a slight hum from the back of my throat while I processed my own thoughts. He seemed sincere, I wanted to believe he was sincere that is.

“Sorry for what?” On the ride back to the hotel, once my irritation towards his attitude had somewhat satiated in the cool silence of the car, I had figured out what he had been bothered by. Spencer wasn’t all that hard to read once I got to know him. However, I wasn’t going to provide the reason for it, I still wanted to hear the reasoning from his own mouth.

“I was envious- jealous of you and the detective today.”

“You were envious?” Being green with envy wasn’t something that Spencer had ever expressed in our relationship before. Being envious- or jealous as most people would call it could be something to be played with in a relationship. It’s an emotion to be delicately handled otherwise the relationship could be filled with possessiveness and aggression.

Spencer was for sure out of line earlier today, he was certainly right when he said I’m sorry.

But, since he had said sorry and that I could tell he was sincere, maybe there was still a chance to play with the delicate emotion in a way that would not crack the foundation. Plus the added fact that I didn’t need to ask for an apology was comforting. There was no need for a fight when the person at fault admitted it. And, in time I’m sure when our relationship has had more time to build a larger foundation, those feelings of envy would not be so easily provoked— unless of course if it was time to play with those delicate emotions.

“Y-yeah, I was getting mad that I wasn’t the one that you were with today. A-and- I also didn’t like that the detective wouldn’t stop flirting with you…” His stuttered apology wasn’t what I was totally paying attention to, though don’t get me wrong I did appreciate it. What I was focused on was how much I wanted to claim him, to show him how much I was just as much as he was mine.

“Well, I’m glad you apologized, I accept it and I understand where you were coming from- plus the case hasn’t been easy on any of us. Just don’t ever do something like that again, please.” Spencer’s shoulders slumped from a sigh and an added nod, relaxing from my words after being tense with anxiety. Sauntering over to him after I had accepted his apology with one plan in mind made my panties wet with anticipation. When I straddled his lap his eyes blew wide, not expecting these turn of events. I grabbed the back of his hair, not too harshly, just enough to get a firm grip to tilt his hair back while I spoke into the shell of his ear, “And, now I’d like to show you how much I belong to you— and it’s just as much as you belong to me.”

Instead of getting an intelligible response from Spencer all I got was a moan, not that I was complaining. While I captured his lips in a breathless kiss I began to grind my hips down onto him in slow circles, giving him a taste of what’s to come.

He surrendered to my dominance in the kiss almost immediately, letting me guide him in any way I wanted him to go. As I rocked my hips over the bulge in his slacks I could feel it grow harder underneath me, I couldn’t wait to free it from its confines. I made sure to mark up his neck with as many hickies that made me satisfied- plus I let him give a few to me as well.

His submission underneath me wasn’t something that I was unused to. This time seemed to be a little different however.

I couldn’t place my finger on what exactly was different, maybe it was that we were so desperate for each other that the clothes practically melted off- which was a lot quicker than how we normally took our pace.

“Can I show you how good I can be for you, Miss?” His eyes were wide and begging, there was no way I could refuse a face like that.

That was how I ended up riding his face, with no hesitation in sight from him. All he wanted to do was to please and he was greedy for it. Even after I had started to pull up off of him after I had already had a shattering orgasm he pulled his hands down onto my hips to have me writhing on top of him im overstimulation. I could’ve punished him for it, but it felt too good to punish.

I was going to make sure he was ready too, possibly by taking him into my mouth for a bit, which I loved to do. However, his little whimpered out pleads about how much he wanted to feel me were just as hard to ignore as the previous pleas. It was hard to say no to a face that looked so pretty when he begged.

I sunk down on him slowly, at least letting myself relish in that feeling for a bit before Spencer would undoubtedly coax me into a faster pace because of how desperate he was. My own desperation wasn’t too far behind to be honest.

When I took him down fully to the hilt I only let myself feel the weight of him inside me for a moment before I started to roll my hips to create a rhythm. The pace I created was just as everything else up until this point had been, desperate.

While I bounced on him I had become unsatisfied with the amount of marks I had left on him before, diving into his neck to pepper them with hickies not really considering the fact that we had to go to work tomorrow. At least he still had that concealer he bought when we first started dating.

Seems that Spencer could not seem to think of it either as in between my ravishing of his neck and upper chest he’d also been getting in his fair share of marks. His were more centered at my chest, he’d been making sure my boobs were not neglected.

My second orgasm washed over me when Spencer brought up his fingers to rub my clit in quick circles. When my pace began to stutter in their movements as I rode myself through my orgasm while trying to help Spencer reach his, his hands came up to my hips to help aid me. Once my pleasure had partially abated I began to focus on his.

“Come on, sweet boy, you’ve shown me how good you are, now I want you to cum for me.”

His eyes rolled back into his head at my words, close to falling off the edge. I grabbed both of his hands interlinking them together and pinned them to the bed to help push him towards his release. A high pitched whine came up from his throat and he fell over the edge, cumming inside me.

We stayed together like that for a bit while we were both coming down from our highs. For a while there was only silence between us as we basked in each other's presence until I decided to make a joke.

“Are you no longer green with envy?” I simpered a bit at him, teasing him just a little as I started to even out my breath some whileI also traced all the marks I had left on him. I was teasing him about the events of today, but I’m reality that horrible detective was far from my mind- it was just Spencer and I. I’d have to see later while looking in the mirror what marks he had also left on me to claim me just as much as I had done to him.

His nose scrunched up at me and he giggled, his giggles were my favorite sound. When I first heard it I knew I would become addicted to pulling little giggles out of him as often as I could. In an uncharacteristic comeback through giggles Spencer then said, “No you kinda fucked it out of me.”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Note

Perhabs could u continue the drabble of the mad scientist waking up captured by the hero and told they have to work for them? It was mmmm so good I would love to see more - blue ✨💙

Thank you so much for the prompt fren blue! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this, but in better news, I’m at almost 35k in my book!

This one is a little unorthodox, but I hope you enjoy!

CW//Electrocution, dehumanization, forcefeeding, captivity

For Mad Scientist, it was nap time.

At the very least, that was what the Voice had demanded of them. The stupid, tinny little voice, buzzing from both sides of their head at once. The Voice had stated it to be nap time, and they had been far too exhausted to resist.

Besides, the bed was comfortable. In some ways, they hated that fact, even as they now snuggled deeper beneath the thick, quilted duvet. It was a true bed. Not a cot, nor a concrete slab. No, it was a real, wooden bed, mattress, blankets and all.

They would almost have preferred the concrete. At least then, sleep wouldn’t have threatened to take them as their body shifted deeper into the boxspring. Then, they would have felt like a prisoner.

When Mad Scientist had spat in Hero’s face, their response to being told to ‘comply’, they were more than expecting to be struck, or sent off to some torture chamber. In fact, that was exactly what they had been led to believe when they were shoved in a wheelchair and rolled down a long, grey, tiled hallway, which met their every expectation.

Then, they’d been dumped into a bedroom. That was what it was, though now, they didn’t dare to look out from under the covers. Didn’t dare to incite the Voice’s ire, to make it realize that they were not actually asleep.

As much as the room’s steel door was deadbolted shut, it was still strangely, terribly comfortable. The floor was thickly carpeted, so much so that she could stick her hand into the threads and nearly lose sight of it. Wood paneling turned bare walls into a cozy environment, aided even more so by the soft orange light that buzzed overhead. Alongside the steel door, another, wooden door led to a compact en suite restroom.

Hell, it was even nicer than the room Mad Scientist stayed in in their normal abode, above their lab. It was still a cell, of course, but even calling it nice would be an understatement. It was comfortable, and they hated it.

It was a cell, and they were a prisoner.

Beneath the covers, a shimmering yellow light ignited, and the Voice spoke:

“Nap time is over. It is now time to read.”

They were a prisoner, and the Voice controlled their life. That was the worst part of it. In some ways, no, in a lot of ways, Mad Scientist would have preferred to be kept captive in the normal sense. To be stuck in a dark, dank cell, and beaten until there was more blood in their lungs than air.

At least then, they would have had control. The control, the ability to tend to their own wounds, to sleep when they so chose, and to not sleep when they did not choose to.

Here, they had no control. Not an ounce of it. It made them want to tear their hair out, but the Voice would not allow it. They couldn’t even harm themself. Didn’t even have the option of pain.

The Voice had spoken its command, but the scientist had no intent to read. No desire to, either. Instead, they nestled deeper into their bed, hoping that, perhaps, sleep would at last take them.

But nap time was over.

The only warning they were given was another flash of those bright lights-- that was the worst part of it, perhaps. The Voice itself came from a pair of vivid yellow tags that had been clipped onto their ears, marking them like cattle. That was where the light came from, as well, and, of course, the pain.

It felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck the very tip of their spine, where vertebrae connected to their skull. There was nothing voluntary about the scream that was ripped from their throat, nor the way they scrambled off the bed in a panic, leaving the duvet in a messy heap.

Terror lurched in their heart as they crawled across the carpeted floor, thick shag at least giving their fingers something to curl into. The agony tore their muscles to shreds, making even the most slight of movements feel as though they were moving through water. Making it to the chest of drawers was an excruciating effort, taking the book out from the first drawer even more so. Their fingers trembled desperately as they tore open the novel to its first page, finding the very first word, printed in bold under a neat typeface that read ‘Chapter One.’

It was only then that the agony stopped. Mad Scientist fixed their trembling gaze upon the words, eyes moving down the page.

The Voice said it was time to read, and thus time to read it was. They knew full well what would happen if they dared to take their eyes off the page.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the knock came on their cell’s door the next day, it was TV time. That was what the Voice referred to it as, at least. For Mad Scientist, it was the time when a screen rolled down from a wall, and they were made to sit on the floor and stare at it until their ear tags said they were done.

It had perhaps become their least favorite part of their strictly-enforced routine, besides the times when they were held down by guards and hand-fed slop. Hell, even that was more entertaining than sitting and watching sitcoms. Their captors could have at least put on Star Trek, but no. It was shitty comedies.

The laugh track made their ears hurt. For them, the knock was a welcome respite, in some ways, even as it terrified them in equal measure. They had just had lunch. Dinner wouldn’t be for a long while.

Yet, when they looked away from the screen, their ear tags gave a bright flash, and their eyes locked once more at the blinding pixels. Their muscles still burned from their last bout of electrocution.

Thus, when Hero entered the room, they could only be identified in Mad Scientist’s peripheral vision. And, of course, by their stupid, snarky voice.

“Enjoying your stay?”

The scientist waited for the TV’s next laugh track to play out before they responded:

“The second I get out of here, I’m going to kill everyone in this building.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Their captor snarked. “You can look away, now.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Fine, then. I guess I’ll just be on my way and leave you to enjoy, what is that, Seinfeld?”

“Friends.”

“Sheesh. And I thought I told them not to torture you. Look, if you want to be left alone, then I’ll leave you. But I really do think you’d like to hear my offer.”

That got them to turn their eyes away from the TV. Their ear tags flashed, but no agony accompanied the warning. Their eyes flashed with floaters from staring at the screen from too long, but soon their vision had cleared, giving them a crystal clear view of the biggest jerk on planet Earth.

“Offer?”

“I’m sure you remember when you first woke up, that I offered you a position in our labs.”

Mad Scientist gritted their teeth.

“Not happening.”

“I expected that. That’s not my offer. We have our own scientists, yes, and they’ve been absolutely befuddled by your work that we seized.”

“Don’t touch my shit.”

“That’s not your choice I’m afraid. No. What I want from you is information.”

Before Mad Scientist, Hero lay a piece of paper and a pen.

“Your serum.”

“What about it?”

“My scientists would like to know its chemical structure. I’ve heard that testing has so far proved... volatile.”

The scientist curled an upper lip into a snarl.

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Freedom-”

“Really?”

“The freedom to feed yourself.”

Well, that dashed their hopes quick.

“You mean your grunts won’t force slop down my throat anymore?”

“Yes. You’ll be feeding yourself that slop.”

They hated just how good that sounded to them in that moment. Though their hand shivered with fury as they picked up their pen, begrudgingly, Mad Scientist began to draw the diagram.

Even as they hated it, they would do anything to get their control back.

#villain whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whump #hero villain whump #scientist whumper #mad scientist whumpee #whumpee #whumper #hero whumpee #hero x villain #whump writing #whump scenario

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let-me-write-shit · 5 years ago

Note

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

To add yourself to my Taglist, click HERE

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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

Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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

Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years ago

Text

Stray Kids Reaction: First Kiss

A/n: I hope you like it! I think these turned out super cute! feel free to request again!

Requested by: @tropicalwrites (thank you bb)

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti (Tag List is open)

Bangchan:

Dates with Chan had been sparse lately. It wasn’t his fault. They were doing promotions for a comeback and Chan had absolutely zero free time and any time he did have, despite his protests, you wanted him to spend resting. “Y/n, please! I wanna see you!” Chan whined over the phone.

You sighed and looked at the time. The boys were still at the company, but would most likely be at the dorms in an hour or two. “Okay how about this. I’ll come over to the dorms and cook dinner for you and the boys tonight. That way you guys can have dinner as soon as you get home.” There was silence on the phone. “Chan? Chris? You there, love?”

“Sorry, you just made my heart explode.”

You laughed and hung up the phone. After a short car ride, you were inside the dorm and cooking a nice dinner for your incredible boyfriend and his band members. The steam from the cooking vegetables were starting to make you sweat a little. Grabbing a clip from your bag you pulled your hair out of your face and continued making the boys a good meal.

“Y/NNNNNNNNN!” Several boys screamed as the dorm door burst open. You smiled and finished putting food on plates. Felix attacked you with a hug and Hyunjin and Jisung followed soon after. “This looks really good, Y/n,” Felix said when everyone was seated at the table, Chan beside you. “I’m glad to have a break from cooking for these weirdos.”

Soon Chan was sending all the boys off to bed with full bellies and food comas. “I’ve missed you so much,” He said taking your hands and sitting on the arm of the couch. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you, to hold you, and... other things,” Chan said blushing.

“What kind of other things?”

Chan looked down and shrugged, his dimples making a shy appearance. You watched him play with your fingers, subconsciously pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take a psychic to know what was on his mind. With a smile, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over your skin. When you pulled away Chan had the dopiest grin across his face. He fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling in a trance making you laugh.

“That was so awesome.”

Minho:

Minho sat next to you on the couch. He wasn’t necessarily close to you, but he wasn’t on the farthest side of the sofa either. The boys had been hinting that maybe your feelings for Minho were reciprocated. You had been reading into everything lately and you still came up with nothing. Minho was impossible.

The focus of the boy next to you was heavily trained on his phone. Some random game was enticing his attention away from you. Giving up, you crossed your arms and stared at the TV.

After letting out many precisely planned sighs hoping to grab Minho’s attention and failing you conceded and started flipping channels. Settling for a drama you watched the soap opera romance that played out on the screen. An hour passed and your stomach was beginning to growl.

“I’m gonna order a pizza.” You said pulling out your phone. Minho hummed in response. rolling your eyes you walked into the kitchen to grab a soda for you and the thick headed boy in your living room. The doorbell rang and you looked to the couch. Minho showed no sign of getting up still zoned in on his phone. “Don’t worry I’ll get it.” Your feet trudged over the door and you gave the pizza guy a half assed smile.

“Hi! That will be $22.46.” The boy smiled when you handed him the money as well as a nice tip. “Thanks, have a good night!”

You closed the door and plopped back onto the couch setting the pizza on the coffee table. A hand grabbed your wrist before you could open the hot cardboard box. Minho smashed his lips on yours, hand coming to the back of your neck. He pushed you onto the couch, hovering on top of you. Caught up in the moment your hands tangled in his hair enticing Minho to deepen the kiss.

As quickly as he had come onto you, he retreated, moving back to his previous spot on the couch and reaching for the pizza. You lay on the couch, completely confused. “What the hell was that?” Minho shrugged acting as if nothing had happened.

“What?” He picked up a slice and took a bite out of it. “I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?”

You shook your head in disbelief. What? “Girlfr- What? When did this happen?” Again he shrugged like this was common knowledge you were the dumbest person on the planet, and you were starting to feel that way. He thought you were dating already?

“Y/n, you’ve cat-sitted for me at least twenty times. In my book, we are in a committed relationship after ten.” He handed you a slice of pizza and turned back to the TV. You watched as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Congrats on being my girlfriend, dummy.”

Changbin:

“Seo Lewis Changbin!”

“Oh no.” Your best friend mumbled. He took off his headphones and turned to see you marching through the door of his studio. The pissed off expression on your face said everything and also nothing. Changbin only had a matter of seconds to recount everything he had done in the last twenty-four hours and apologize or face the consequences. “Hi, gorgeous, how’s your day?”

You simply rose an eyebrow and he quickly shut up. “Changbin, do you have something to tell me?” You could see the gears turning in his brain. The gears screaming ‘what did I do wrong this time’.

It was honestly a little fun to watch him squirm. You crossed your arms and ignored the giggles coming from the other side of the studio door. You knew Felix and Seungmin had followed you down the hall. They were the ones who told you about Changbin in the first place. “I’m sorry that I used your sweatshirt to clean up Minho’s cat piss. But you can have my hoodie.”

“YOU WHAT?”

He screamed as my hands attacked any unshielded spot on his body. “Stop! STOP! I BRUISE EASILY!” You huffed and stepped away. Changbin rubbed his bicep as if you had actually hurt him. “I’m sorry okay!” He scorched farther away from you. Though you had gotten him to confess it wasn’t the secret you were looking for.

“While I am pissed about that, and you will be getting me a new hoodie, that isn’t what I was talking about.” Changbin watched with wary eyes as you inched forward and leaned on the arms of his office chair. “I had a little conversation with Seungmin and Felix earlier.” Changbin visibly gulped.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“They sold me out?”

“They did indeed.” Changbin’s ears turned a dark shade of red. How you had never noticed your effect on your best friend before you would never know. Possibly because you were too focused on your own infatuation. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a sweet kiss. Tilting your head you let your teeth drag slowly across Changbin’s bottom lip.

“Was that like a friend kiss or-?” Changbin asked when you pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kissed him again before he could ask another stupid question.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin was walking you home after a late night boba date. His hand was intertwined with yours as you walked in the warm spring air. “When is your next free day?” You asked swinging your hands as you strolled down the dimly lit streets. You felt safe with your boyfriend next to you.

He hummed, head lifting to the sky in thought. “I think...two weeks from now?” You sighed and he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I know, baby.” It was hard not seeing Hyunjin. He himself was having withdrawal issues from your company and the boys were starting to notice. His dating ban wasn’t up for another three months, so the two of you had to sneak around.

“What about nights?” He shooked his head ‘no’ and stopped under a street lamp. Leaning you back against the steel pole, you looked up at Hyunjin. “What about before morning meetings?” Hyunjin laughed, the sound making you smile.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and dragged his touch down your arm. “Y/n, you and I both know neither of us are going to get up at four thirty in the morning.” You laughed and pulled Hyunjin closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile and looked down at you. He made your heart pound in your chest. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two weeks without you, Jinnie.” He sighed, nuzzling into your neck.

“Believe me, if you can’t then I definitely won’t.” You ran a hand through his soft hair making him sigh in content. Eventually, he pulled away and stared at you with longing. His eyes looked from your eyes to your mouth in question. After seeing the smallest nod he leaned in pressing his lips against yours.

You smiled into the kiss, threading your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “What if I just ran away with you right now?”

“Jisung would absolutely murder you. You’re supposed to record tomorrow.” You said a little breathless, wanting his lips on yours again.

“True. Very true.” He came back, another fiery kiss being shared between you. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. The two of you savored your last moments together under the dim golden glow of the street lamp.

Jisung:

“Hey, handsome,” You answered your ringing phone.

Jisung’s tired voice came through the call. “Y/n, baby, can you come over to the dorm?” You checked your watch and saw it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Usually, he was at the studio until three in the morning.

“Sure. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” Slipping on a big hoodie and your shoes you grabbed your wallet and car keys and drove over to the dorms. When you got there most of the boys were in the kitchen or the common room. “Hi guys! Where’s Jisung?”

Chan waved and gave you a hug. “Oh- he’s in his room. Top bunk.” The boys waved as you walked by and you knocked quietly on the last door. A muffled voice belonging to your boyfriend told you to come in. You saw a single sweatpant covered leg hanging off one of the top bunks. Jisung’s head peeked over the side and he gave you a smile.

“Hi!” He said sleepily. Your sock feet padded over to the bed and you looked at him from over the side. “You wanna take a nap with me?” There was no helping the laugh that escaped.

“You called me just to take a nap with you?” He nodded, his eyes already droopy. It looked like he was waiting to fall asleep until you arrived. With a sigh, you began climbing up the ladder and Jisung lifted up the covers giving you a place to lay on his chest. “This is a tiny bed.”

“Shhhh. It’s nap time baby.”

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep. It was easy to relax in Jisung’s arms. He radiated warmth with his arms and legs wrapped around you. Soon your eyes blinked open only to find a dark room. You reached over Jisung to grab his phone. You looked to see it was nearing 11 o’clock at night. “What’s wrong, babe?” Jisung mumbled feeling you move. You told him the time and he laughed. “There’s no point in you leaving, so why don’t you just spend the night?” He whispered.

He smiled feeling you nod and he started running his long fingers through your hair. In the low light, you could only barely make up the features of Jisung’s face. You were only slightly surprised to feel Jisung’s lips on yours. The kiss was slow and sleepy, but sweet none the less. Your hands already around his stomach slipped under his shirt., feeling his warm skin.

Sleepy kisses were exchanged, Jisung’s long fingers playing with your hair and holding you close in the dark. He pulled you on top of him, leaving no space between you. After a while, the both of you fell back asleep and didn’t wake until morning

Felix:

Felix got a running start before launching himself off the cliff and into the water. You watched from the shore of the little alcove the two of you had found. You cheered seeing your boyfriend resurface in the center of the clear watering hole. “You gonna try?” He called, treading water. You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, there’s a smaller ledge, closer to the water.”

You looked to the rock face Felix had climbed moments earlier. The colors of green and blue were vibrant around you, making your own little paradise. “Fine.” Felix smiled, seeing you shed your coverup and began swimming back to the shore. He took your hand and led you to a smaller ledge half as high as the one he had previously jumped off of. The waterfall roared next to you and Felix laced his fingers with yours.

“Ready?” You nodded, a nervous smile on the corner of your mouth. You were comforted seeing Felix’s grin. “3, 2,..1!” The two of you leaped from the ledge and into the cool clear water, screams escaping as you fell. Felix held onto your hand tightly as the two of you sank beneath the water’s surface. “Wasn’t that fun?” He exclaimed as the two of you swam above the surface.

“Yeah, okay. That was fun.”

Felix smiled as the two of you treaded water. “You wanna do something else fun?” Before you could answer Felix started swimming to the waterfall. Trusting him, you followed. He gently took your hand, lifting you up on the slippery rocks. He led the two of you carefully behind heavy curtain of water into a tiny cave. The roaring of the falls echoed in the small space, obstructing your view of your secret alcove.

“Wow!” You said, reaching your hand under the water. Felix grinned, wet hair falling in front of his eyes. Stepping carefully, he made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but you nodded palms resting against his bare chest. Hesitantly, Felix leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, then picked up as Felix grew more confident. His lips danced against yours, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair. The two of you parted, breathe heavy and lovestruck grins plastered on your faces.

Felix pulled away and started to do a little dance making you laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” He just continued to do his weird little dance as you watched and laughed at your dorky boyfriend behind the waterfall.

Seungmin:

Two weeks after Seungmin and you started dating, he and the rest of the boys left for a US tour. Thankfully his dating ban had been lifted early after an analysis by the company, so Seungmin was free to spend time with you anytime he wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with his schedules.

Your fingers tapped against your steering wheel. The red light turned green and you drove the rest of the way to the airport. Chan called you early this morning, about two hours ago, and told you their flight was getting in at five-thirty in the morning. You yawned, pulling into Seoul International Airport. Seungmin had called you the night before and told you not to bother meeting him since they would be arriving so early in the morning. But, you were determined.

After asking an attendant she directed you the flight gate the boys would be coming from. The sign you had made in the last hour, was bumping up against your legs as you ran through the cold airport. Seungmin’s sweatshirt was blocking the cold air from hitting your skin as you looked for gate A6.

A few other people were waiting as you approached the gate, but you pushed your way to the front. Your eyes frantically searched the sea of people as passengers came off the plane. Spotting Chan’s curly frizzy hair you held up your sign with a huge grin on your face.

Chan spotted you first and then laughed at your sign. He called back into the group of boys behind him, who all turned to look at you. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was pushing himself to the front of the group and he laughed when he saw your sign, falling to the ground and covering his face.

‘Welcome Home Hot Stuff’ the sign read with a funny meme of Seungmin that Felix had sent you a couple days ago glue on the poster board. Not wanting to be apart from you anymore Seungmin ran over and wrapped you up in his arms. “Y/n, I have missed you so much. Why are you here? It’s 5:30! Is this my sweatshirt? I can’t believe you’re here! Honey, I’ve missed you so much-”

You smashed your lips against his cutting off his ramblings. After getting over the shock, Seungmin kissed you back, dropping everything in his hands. He cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Your head was spinning in the best way possible. “Welcome home, Minnie.” You whispered against his lips, making him smile.

“Let’s go get breakfast.” He said with a smile and took the sign from you, looking at your craft project.

Jeongin:

Jeongin and you lay on the floor of your dorm room a board game between the two of you. Rain pelted against your window, thunder rolling outside. Jeongin moved his game piece six spaces before looking up at you with a smile. You sat with a mug of warm tea in your hands and Jeongin’s hoodie swallowing you in warmth.

“You are too cute,” Jeongin mumbled, leaning his cheek into his palm.

Attempting to hide your blush, you brought the steaming cup up to your mouth and took a sip. “Jeongin, really you don’t have to stay here. I’m no scared of the storm.” He shrugged and rolled the dice for you, moving it four spaces. You got up, the sweatshirt falling over your shorts. The mug clunked against the wood as you set it on your desk.

Jeongin watched you walk over and pulled you down into his lap. “What if I’m the one scared of the storm?” He questioned, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. Rolling your eyes you giggled and kissed his cheek. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not scared of the storm.”

“Innie, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. My roommate is staying at her boyfriend’s.”

Jeongin smiled, placing a loving kiss on the side of your neck. He reached over and rolled the dice as lightning flashed outside. The cold air of the dorm made you snuggled deeper into the warm fabric of Jeongin’s hoodie. Sensing movement in his lap he wrapped a protective arm around you as he moved his game piece with his other hand.

“I think I’m going to win in the next two moves.” You said, causing your boyfriend to turn his head. He looked at you with raised brows and laughed.

“Oh really?”

You nodded and moved your piece to the final block on the board. “Yep. I win.” Jeongin laughed and looked into your eyes. His knuckles brushed over your cheek his breath ghosting over your lips. You inched forward, desperately wanting to close the small gap between you. A smirk tilted on the corner of Jeongin’s mouth, seeing your impatience.

Softly, gently, his lips pressed against yours. His lips tasted like coffee, and he smelled like the rain that was falling outside. You dragged your lips against his savoring every moment with him. As you pulled away Jeongin chases after your lips, making you giggle.

Your eyes looked to the window and Jeongin trailed his lips tenderly down your jaw, before resting his chin on your shoulder. “You stand corrected.” He whispered, kissing your lips again. “I win.”

Requests are open lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

882 notes · View notes

whenimaunicorn · 5 years ago

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The Split

The Mandalorian x female Reader

(gif contributed by @bennskywalker) (much love and undying gratitude to @equalstrashflavoredtrash for constant cheerleading, support, and beta services, and saving me every time I felt stuck on a scene; and also to @cptnbvcks for indulging the Big Meat headcanon and guaranteeing it’s happening in all my fics)

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: choking, spanking, dominance/submission, threats during intimacy, rough sex Words: 8478

Summary: The Reader is a fellow Nevarran bounty hunter, working with the Mandalorian to catch a quarry and splitting the reward. They keep renegotiating the split until passions spark and other, kinkier interests start slipping out.

Full Fic:

There’s one thing you can appreciate about working with the Mandalorian: he sure knows how to be terrifying to his quarry. It’s not about bluster with him, or wild threats that can make a hunter seem unhinged; it’s in his sheer presence. He’s caught up to the quarry you’ve been tracking together, and now he looms over his prey like he’s inevitable.

‘Course, you’d never let him know he even made you shiver. “Enough with the dramatics,” you say to him, coming up behind the cowering bounty and yanking her arms together behind her back. “I’m the one that got her blaster out of her hand, and that’s the hardest part. Once they’re disarmed it’s all over. That ups my cut to 70%.”

A frustrated little hiss emanates from your business partner. He points that looming mask more squarely at you. “Fifty-five was what we agreed,” he says, words clipped. “And that was only because you had the specific location—”

“Without which your schedule wouldn’t have been worth shit,” you finish for him, pressing the binder around your quarry’s wrists. At least, the metal cuff clicks shut around one of them…

Suddenly the woman is whirling around, slamming the solid metal of the binder, hanging off just one wrist, right into your stomach.

You try to grab her but the momentum is not in your favor, especially with the wind knocked squarely out of your gut. You brace your hands on your knees, willing yourself not to fall completely down as you fight the pain, not in front of Mando, and manage to suck in a decent breath as you look up with involuntary tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

Just in time to see the Mandalorian grab the woman by the throat, stopping her escape in its tracks. He shoves her to her knees, bristling with frank irritation, and presses the muzzle of his blaster to the side of her skull. “Stay down.”

You stagger one step in their direction. Your gut hurts just about as much as your pride.

You can’t see a smirk on that cold metal face, but you know there has to be one as he looks over at you. “What were you saying about the hard part of the job being over? I’ll take that seventy.”

“This gets you maybe an extra five,” you wheeze, stomping to the quarry kneeling at his feet and jamming her other hand into the binder where it belongs. “And you’re forgetting that I was the one that noticed her sneaking out that hatch in the back.”

Another one of his annoying silences follows, the one where he stands so still and makes you wait, just guessing what thoughts might be bouncing around inside the helmet. “And she’s going back in my ship. My fuel, my carbonite. I’ll take sixty.”

You huff.

“You’re the one that started this. I would have been fine with the original agreement.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ll talk about it after she’s loaded in.”

“Up,” the Mandalorian barks at the quarry, digging those orange-tipped fingers into the cloth covering her shoulder and hauling her to her feet.

The woman complies, looking defeated, and you all start walking across the plateau toward where the Razor Crest has been hidden. Mando’s been in the game too long to pay docking fees at an official spaceport on a planet so chaotic that you can get away without.

Soon enough, the quarry says what everyone with a price on their head says, once the binders are tight around their wrists. “You know, you two really don’t have to worry about your split. Just let me get back to my guys, I can pay you each as much as that whole price on my head.”

You snort. “If that were true, we wouldn’t have found you working in such a shit-hole. No way the syndicate values you that much.”

“I seem to recall a story about you taking up a quarry on an offer like that once,” Mando’s modulator emits at you. He slows his pace so he can see your face as the three of you trudge across the uneven ground. “Didn’t it end with another Guild member finding you stripped and tied up in a cellar? That would have been a sight to see.”

“I heard that story too,” you shoot back. “Wasn’t me. But if you want to see me like that, Mando, maybe you can try to play your cards right a little later…” you force your mouth to close. Not the most well-thought-out comeback. Nor the kind of thing to say if you want a fellow Hunter’s respect. Which you do. It’s just that there’s something about the Mandalorian that’s damned enticing, that makes you wonder if he ever loosens up even a little, lets anyone touch the warm body that’s gotta be somewhere underneath all that armor.

“I know a good hotel in the East Quarter,” the quarry pipes up before Mando gives you a response, “soft mattresses, and real good soundproofing in the walls. Maybe you two need to work out some of this sexual tension before taking me back to the ship? You can just stick me in another room until you’re done.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d just twiddle your thumbs and wait real nice for us.” You stick your blaster into her ribs and prod her to move faster, just for being annoying. “Sweet of you to be so generous, but don’t worry. He and I’ll have plenty of privacy while you’re stashed away in carbonite for the ride to Nevarro.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet turns toward you sharply.

“What? It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mando, but I always collect in-person. I’m riding with you.”

Mando’s ship is a real bare-bones operation; it’s not much more than a cargo hold and a cockpit. It’s almost enough to make you regret insisting on coming along. You can’t find a spot to get comfortable in, and there’s nothing to do. Mando’s not helping; he’s been sitting at the controls of the ship, back perfectly straight, since take-off. The course has already been set; the eerie lines of hyperspace are streaking by, and there’s nothing in this cockpit that actually requires his attention unless something goes wrong.

“So… what do you usually do while you’re in hyperspace?” you finally ask, slouching against the cockpit wall.

Mando’s hands turn palm up. “This.”

“You serious?”

He shrugs. “Good time to meditate.”

You look out at the rushing stars. “You have got to be kidding me. I’d go completely crazy in about five minutes.”

“You probably would,” he says. So calm, so matter-of-fact.

You look down at him sharply. He hasn’t moved a muscle, though he could be looking at you sideways through his visor and you’d never know. Infuriating. You plop down into the seat behind him. “You don’t think I’m capable of being quiet?”

“I’ve never known you to be.”

You flip your hair. “Some of us have a thing called ‘people skills.’ But it doesn’t look like they cover that in Mandalorian school.”

Now he turns his face toward yours. “Is that what you think you have.”

You nod, stifling the quick words that heat up your tongue so you can prove how quiet you can be.

“I’ve seen you try to get free drinks from soldiers that haven’t had shore leave in months, and still not be able to seal the deal.”

Mando? Teasing you? That’s new. You scoff at the accusation. “You just left too early. You would have seen where that night went. Try loosening up a little sometimes.”

Another silence. Then he swivels away from you, back to his perfect posture. “No thanks.”

“What are you jealous?”

The stack of armor in the pilot’s seat gives you no reaction at all.

You exhale loudly. “You know, I always thought you must have had some other kind of life to go back to, the way you drop those pucks off with Karga and never stick around.” You glance down the ladder at the empty cargo hatch, thinking of the junky little cot you saw crammed into a closet down there. “But you really live like this? Nothing but work for you, huh. Is that what it takes to be the best hunter in the sector?”

His helmet moves a fraction in your direction. “At least you can admit it.”

Your face gets hot. You did not mean to give that to him. “Some people say that about you.” You cross your arms, trying to get more comfortable by throwing your feet up on the control panel to his left.

He rolls his neck, beskar facing pointedly at your feet until you huff and move them.

Your frustration cracks into all-out mockery. “Ooh,” you blurt out in a sing-song voice, “I’m Mando, when I’m not hunting I sit perfectly straight and stare into space; my capture rate is near-perfect because I never sleep and guns are my religion.”

His helmet tilts above his metal-encased shoulder, dangerously close to actually looking at you again. “If you’re going to keep running your mouth like that, I can think of a few ways to make you shut up.”

It takes you a moment to recover from the rush that shoots through your body, a confusing mix of adrenaline and frank arousal as he speaks to you with the tone he usually reserves for quarries. Then you bark out a laugh. “Mando! Did you just make a dirty joke?”

Slowly he swivels the chair toward you, until he’s facing you squarely with his legs spread and fists on his knees. “I suppose you could take it that way.”

And then he just sits there, staring at you, as you decide which way to take it. Was he trying to say he hadn’t meant it as a come-on? That you’re the only one here with a dirty mind, that immediately imagined him shoving his cock down your throat? Fuck. Or does he want you to take it that way, to climb into his lap and sit your ass down on the battered metal plate covering his thigh…

You have to shake your head a little to make the thoughts stop. That is so not what he means. “You’re just mad that we make a great team,” you say, standing up and grinning, trying a new tactic. “That after almost bungling the hunt today,” the helmet cocks sharply at that accusation, “you realize that you need me. I’ve got skills you can’t even come close to.”

It’s hard to determine what sound comes out of his modulator, but you think it’s a snort. “What are you talking about.”

“My aforementioned people skills, for a start. Don’t forget I was the one that took in that warlord on Strigoth by getting him to follow me out to the edge of town without any of his guards. Not everything has to be a shootout. And I knew the quarry today was going to run before you did.”

Mando crosses his arms over his chestplate. “Keep telling yourself that. I’m still not raising your percentage.”

“I can hack any security system since the final Imperial update release, which is most of them in the Rim, and on top of all that”—you swing your left hand in like you’re going to slap him upside the helmet, and when he lifts his arm to block, you smack him over the ear with your right—“I’m faster than you.”

You jump back instantly, not sure how he’s going to react. His body tenses up into a fighter’s crouch, starting to come up out of the chair toward you. Then he sits back down, body language deliberately relaxing. He adjusts his helmet with one hand. “You’re a child.”

“I call it playful,” you shoot back, the adrenaline rush of what you just did almost making you giggle. “Another asset you seem to be lacking.”

He only shrugs in response, then swivels back to facing the oncoming stars.

He’s given you an opening that’s impossible to resist. As soon as his back is turned you swing your open hand forward. He’s ready for it, which you basically expected, and he knocks your arm away before you can make contact with his helmet this time. And ouch, that gauntlet of his jars your forearm all the way to the bone. You make a frustrated little noise. “Well, if you want to stick to business, we still have to talk about the final terms of the split. We can go back to 55-45, if you admit that today I had the superior skills.”

“With you taking the forty-five?”

“Hell no.”

He pauses, and you think he’s about to say something mature and reasonable, like he always does. Instead, he comes back with a very calmly-worded: “I could put you out the airlock right now.”

You swear there’s a wry little tone to that modulated voice. “You’d have to catch me first”—you slap the bucket on his head again—“and we’ve already determined I’m faster than you.”

“Stop that,” he growls, finally standing up. His cloak swirls dramatically and you try to suppress the primal feelings that make you a little weak in the knees when he comes up to his full height in such close quarters.

“Make me.” The words are out of your mouth before you can decide if they’re really such a good idea.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts. Now it’s his turn to try and work out what you may or may not be implying. When he finally speaks, there’s a new tone in his voice, one that catches something deep in your belly and drags. “You think you can take me?”

…Can you? You may be as good a Hunter as he is, but you couldn’t say unarmed combat is one of your strong suits. And you don’t even want to think about how much he out-weighs you, especially with all that armor on. But how can you possibly eat your pride and back down after you’ve provoked this?

You look around the tiny space of the Razor Crest’s cockpit. Mando’s helmet stays squarely aimed at your face.

“A lot of expensive equipment in here,” you say casually. “Wouldn’t want to damage anything throwing down right now.”

“Mm-hmm.” His skeptical hum makes the modulator crackle. Did he just lean in closer?

At this point the sexual tension is thrumming like a mis-firing engine in the space between you. If he had a face you could read, a mouth you could tilt your face up and kiss, you’d know what to do, but this? Even your renowned ‘people skills’ are failing you now.

You look away from the impassive, dark lens that covers his eyes, and that’s when he retaliates. One heavy gloved hand whips around your side and thuds a stinging strike right into your ass. The impact knocks you forward, almost into his chest, but you stop yourself before your hands touch his breastplate.

You suck in a breath and freeze, wide eyes drawn like a magnet back to that beskar face. Mando just spanked you. Hard. Mando… just… The pain ignites an arousal so sudden and strong that you’re worried you’re about to start trembling. It would absolutely kill your reputation if any Hunter found out that your sexual tastes ran submissive, that a deep secret part of you wanted nothing but to be overpowered and forced, to be used by someone stronger than you, better than you…

You can’t think of anything to do but flee. “I… uh…” His helmet tilts again, watching your face closely as you stutter. “Yeah, I guess I was being a little too childish. I’ll stop…stop trying to make you lighten up.” Your eyes slide away from his helmet’s eye slit, unable to handle even the imagined eye contact. “I’ll leave you alone to do whatever it is you do up here. Meditate. I’m gonna go down and…” you make for the ladder to the cargo hold, “and clean my blaster.”

He just watches you go. You can still feel the impact of his hand on your ass, with every movement of your leg as you climb down the rungs of the ladder. Fuck, it’s making your pussy tingle just a badly, too. Your head has just dropped below the hatch when Mando’s modulated voice follows you down with a suggestion that sounds suspiciously like a command. “Why don’t you clean mine, too.”

You feel your face and chest getting hot as soon as you get down to the relative privacy of the ship’s lower level. If you were trying to maintain control of the conversation, you’d say something sassy back to that, not let him win an inch of dominance, but you’re not in control anymore, are you? Not of yourself, not of whatever this is that’s going on between you. And it’s so dangerous. How would you keep his respect, if your top competitor in the Guild knew this about you, what you wanted him to do to you…

Mando’s weapon rack is set into the wall across from the ladder. Certainly there’s cleaning supplies stashed somewhere in that section, but you’re too shaky to get right to work. Instead, you walk down along the racks of carbonite, idly inspecting his cargo as you try and pull yourself together.

Four of the racks are currently occupied; the Mandalorian has been busy. Each one is tagged with a bounty’s chain code. You recognize two of them from Karga’s list. Quarries that you had passed on, that seemed too difficult to be worth their price. Bastard was about to show you up again when he unloaded these trophies.

You take a deep breath when you reach the end of the line. Your ass still tingles in the most tantalizing way, but you grit your teeth and tell yourself to ignore it. Maybe if you just stay down here, avoid your traveling companion until the ship reaches Nevarro, everything else will go just fine. No more bruises to your pride, no dirty secrets revealed. Yeah. That’s smart.

You turn and Mando is just there, boxing you in between the racks of carbonite carriers. How can a guy covered with so much metal be this stealthy? You try not to let shock show on your face; which only means you end up freezing like a prey animal.

“You liked that.” He makes the accusation solidly, with the weight of heavy interest bearing down behind it.

“What are you talking about.” You know, but you don’t want to answer for the heat that surely showed in your face when Mando spanked you. You try to wiggle past him, but he doesn’t acknowledge your intent, makes no move to make way for you.

“You know.” He’s just staring down at you.

You twitch in irritation and decide if he’s ignoring personal space, so can you. Your chest and thigh slide against solid armor as you force your body through the gap between him and the carbonite. “Get out of my way.”

His helmet is the only thing that moves, tracking your labored progression. “Make me.” He echoes your earlier challenge with an amused little tone.

“Fine.” You use your entire body weight to slam him into the rack on the other side. But he recovers too quickly; when you try to step away, into the center of the ship’s hold, he gets an arm around your chest.

As if your adrenaline wasn’t spiking already; now your combat reflexes kick in and you pull him in tighter, squatting low and grabbing that arm for leverage. With a quick burst of effort from your legs, you flip him over your shoulder.

You follow him down, taking advantage of the way a fall inside all that metal has to stun him, and climb on top of his body. “Fifty-five percent.” You also attempt to change the subject.

He reaches up and it’s a struggle to control his arms. He’s kriffing strong, and you’ve already taken off your combat equipment with the hidden tricks you usually use to deal with opponents that are bigger than you. He twists underneath you, in some way that you don’t expect, and with a rough shove and a brief crushing sensation along one leg you find yourself flat on the deck beneath him. “Are you really going to pretend you don’t like this?” his modulator purrs down at you.

Subject not changed. Every one of your nerve endings is in high gear now, and there’s a powerful urge inside you that wants to mewl and spread your legs apart for him right here, like a bitch in heat acknowledging the alpha male. You push the image back with a growl between your teeth, and use your thighs only to try and throw him off you.

Mando responds to your offensive by smothering you back down with his hips. Something solid crushes into the apex of your thighs, and you remember his armor does not have a codpiece.

A feral little moan escapes past your lips. Mando stops, lifting up just a little off your body and cocking his helmet to the side where it hovers only a hand’s breadth above your face. “What was that?” he asks, voice pleased.

And just like that, the whole game has changed. You were so worried he was trying to embarrass you, get one over on you. But if he likes it like this too… You reach your hand down boldly and throw his question back at him. “What’s this?” you ask as your palm makes contact with a delightfully solid bulge straining against the thick fabric of his pants.

A deep rumble purrs out of his modulator. “If you can manage to behave, maybe you’ll find out.”

How does he know exactly what to say to make you squirm? Your body floods with heat as you inwardly flail around to find a non-submissive answer. “And what happens if I don’t behave?”

“Then, maybe things get really interesting.”

Oh. Fuck. Now there’s an option. Maybe you don’t even have to submit to get the kind of tumble you want from him. You bare your teeth in a ferocious, challenging grin, and take advantage of the way he’s pulled his weight back to twist out from under him, knocking his helmet one more time with your elbow as you go.

You scramble across the deck out from under him, but a heavy hand catches your belt before you can get very far. You kick but Mando’s already inside your reach; your heel glances off his armor without even slowing him down.

He tugs on your belt, harshly, and climbs over the backs of your legs to force you down. “Where do you you think you’re going?” His voice is tight with the effort of getting himself positioned on top of you, squishing your belly into the deck.

“Mmf” is the sound you make in response, because now he’s pressing a forearm into your back and putting most of his weight on it.

“Hold still.” You give him a little token resistance, but mostly you let him get settled how he wants, holding you down to the floor evenly with the left side of his body. Leaving his right hand free. “So. What happens when you don’t behave.”

He spanks you, solid and centered and sharp.

You expected it just enough to hold your breath, and make sure you don’t cry out. You may be face-down on the floor under the Mandalorian, but you still have your pride. The first smack is followed by two more, and he grunts when you still don’t make a noise.

Heavy fingers smooth over the sting in your flesh. His hand feels amazing as it covers the swell of your ass, a slow, deliberate drag that feels warmer than it ought to and much more soothing than you expected.

“What’s it going to be, Y/N?” he asks. When you don’t answer fast enough for him, he swats at your other cheek, lazy and powerful.

Maybe he got a little noise out of you with that last one; it’s just too hard to stay quiet and not flinch both at the same time under the strength of that arm.

His helmet comes closer down to your face. “It’s okay to let go.” He speaks with such confidence, such seductive calm. “I can tell you want to submit. You don’t have to keep fighting it.” He shifts on top of you. “Though I do like it when you struggle.”

Your body rolls enticingly underneath him, without your brain’s permission. “Don’t you dare tell anyone you got me like this.”

“Of course not.” His answer is immediate. You remember how he’s always been an honorable man, that part of his reputation impeccable. Perhaps you really can trust him with this side of you. He sticks to the Code, he honors his promises, and lives by the Way of the Mandalore.

That last one begs a certain question, of course. “I wasn’t sure that Mandalorians could even have sex.”

A throaty noise makes the modulator crackle. “We have our ways.” A pause. “Is that what you want?”

You lift your head a little higher. He doesn’t give you much freedom, but he shifts just enough to help you feel comfortable breathing again. “If that’s what you’re offering, yeah, I wouldn’t be opposed to things ending up there.”

His hand gropes over your ass, fingers diving to tease more sensitive flesh between your legs. “After we… resolve a few things.” He grips tightly, almost cruelly. You agree in a sound that comes out much more high-pitched than you intended as he palms your ass and kneads it boldly. “Like whether you’re ready to start behaving like a good girl now.”

You still can’t bring yourself to just say yes, as hot as his words are making you. But you curl into his hand, just a little. To encourage him.

He growls something in a language you don’t know. It sounds like a curse and his weight is pressed down on you again as he scrambles with your belt, loosening your pants just enough to shove everything off the curve of your hips, baring you to mid-thigh in the ship’s cool air. When he spanks you now it’s sharper, the sting lighting up your tender flesh under every open-palmed strike that just keeps coming and coming. “Rubbing your ass on me does not count as an answer.” Smack. “I want to hear you say it.” Smack. “That you submit.” Smack. “That your ass is mine tonight.” A few involuntary cries squeeze out of your throat before he relents and rubs you again, the leather of his glove singing over your overstimulated skin.

You slow your panting breaths before you speak up, endeavoring to match his even tone. “Maybe I’ll play along for a little while.” You twist further, until you can stare up into his silver mask. “What do you want me to do?”

He pulls back, sitting up on his hip. From the angle of his helmet you’d guess that your answer does not really count as the submission he was looking for. Nor did you mean it to be. Someone’s gonna top you, they’ve got to earn it. Even if they are already, physically, on top of you. His moment of thought ends. “Take off your clothes.”

His hand squeezes at your ass one more time as you shift, like he’s loathe to let go while you comply with his command. You make as quick of work with your boots as you can, then push your bottoms off after them. Mando’s sitting beside you, leaning up against a large cargo crate, helmet fixed on your slowly-revealed body.

You’re so self-conscious that your skin feels like it could be glowing, as you bare it for him inch by inch. There’s nothing to read in that cold helmet, but its angle never wavers, riveted on you.

Once you’ve gotten yourself completely naked, he beckons you to come to him with two curling fingers. It’s amazingly erotic to move toward him with nothing on, while every inch of the Mandalorian warrior is still covered in battle-scarred plates.

He reaches out, palm up for your hand. You place your hand in his and he draws you in, until you’re kneeling right beside him. His fingers trail up your arms, over your shoulders, coaxing you closer. His touch is lighter than you expected. But you can hear him breathing through the mask. He’s struggling to stay this calm. To savor this.

His helmet tips down as his fingers knead harder; he watches himself press and squeeze the flesh of your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. The modulator translates another buzzing hum. Does it fascinate him, to see so much bare and vulnerable skin, when he can show none?

You feel your nipples tighten, a silent craving for contact. This feels good, but you want so much more. You look right into his eye slit. “I won’t break,” you say, twisting yourself tighter into the grip of his hands.

The Mandalorian growls and rises up to his knees, helmet filling your vision as he presses himself close and rakes his fingers down your back. He’s looking down at your panting chest and squeezing your ribs, watching the way your pristine tits are so close to brushing against his dirty metal chestplate. He clutches you in, pressing your belly against his, betraying a desire for closeness that he just can’t achieve.

Your hands come up to his shoulders, burrowing through the cowl wrapped around his collar, trying to make contact. Your fingers curl up the column of his neck, where the thinner fabric lets you feel a hint of his body heat. He stiffens when you come close to the bottom of his helmet.

“Leave it,” he snarls, just as you’re telling him “Don’t worry, I wasn’t—"

He scoops you up tightly and sets you on top of the cargo crate he had been leaning against. Your legs open and wrap around him of their own volition as he presses between them. You cross your ankles underneath his cloak, locking his body in close. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, just inside the pauldrons, but don’t attempt to slide under anything again.

Leather-clad fingers rake up your ribs, dragging up the sides of your body before they close over your breasts. Finally. You arc into him and let your eyes close, feeling the texture of his gloves across sensitive skin, the hungry twisting and tugging against your nipples.

“Open your eyes,” he demands, voice breathy with as much arousal as you’re feeling. “I want you to look at me, keep looking at me, let me see…”

He trails off, but you can guess what he means. Let him see what it feels like to be touched. You tip your chin down and lock your eyes on that T-shaped window in his helmet. His fingers pinch around both your nipples at once and your jaw drops. He tickles around the edges, then grabs up the full swell of your tits and squeezes. Your eyes try to flutter shut; it’s already hard to remember his instruction.

He settles into an entirely delicious rhythm, kneading your peaks, watching every crease of your brow, reading every gasp and twitch of your lip so that he can tweak at your nipples just right, until the pleasure is almost unbearable. You don’t even realize your eyes have fallen closed until his hand disappears from one of your tits and slaps at your cheek.

It’s not hard, just a slight sting, the corrective swat of a playful alpha. “Eyes,” he reminds you, then goes right back to his blissful torture.

Your core is warming almost unbearably. Every tug at your nipples is drawing a tingling line of pleasure right down between your thighs, taking the heat that had already awoken there during your spanking and fanning the flames, until the need for more is almost unbearable. “Mando,” you moan, tilting your hips forward on the crate, “please…”

A pleased little sound comes out of the modulator. “Please what?”

“Urmmm,” you moan at him, twisting your body, trying to scoot your hips a little closer to him. “I need more.”

He responds by pinching your nipples harder, just enough pain to make you gasp and curl. You pout up toward his helmet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But you like it.” He does it again, and this time you cry out. A stabbing ache deep between your legs reminds you you’re still not getting what you want.

Fingers tickle down your belly, brushing across your inner thighs. Then they slide around behind and pinch you hard on the ass. You wail in frustration.

Mando tips his helmet closer to your face. “Tell me again how I don’t know how to be playful.”

“Fuck!” you cry through gritted teeth.

“Fuck what?”

Your hands scramble down his armored chest, aiming for his belt to just reach down and show him what you want.

“Uh uh.” He grabs your wrists before you can do more than pop the buckle on his utility belt. “Hands stay on my shoulders.”

You immediately comply, too far gone now to be contradictory. “Fuck me, Mando.”

“Oh yeah?” He straightens up a little, his posture cocky as he stands there wrapped in your naked legs. “You ready to say it?”

“I’m yours.” You don’t even hesitate. “Do whatever you want with me.”

He takes his belt the rest of the way off with one hand, lets it drop to the floor. The other hand is busy squeezing your ass, then traveling around your hip. He pushes your legs open a little wider, then his thumbs come running down your inner thighs, pulling at your labia, spreading you even more. You lean back, curling your hips up, to give him a better view.

His breath hisses out from under the helmet. “You want me to fuck this little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moan, as his thumbs stroke up and down, just around its edges.

He pulls you open wider. “You ready to be a good girl, and do exactly as I say?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Exactly,” he repeats, and a ghost of a chill runs down your spine in the midst of all this heat. He takes one of your hands from his shoulder, and turns it palm up near your mouth. “Spit.”

The thumb of his other hand is still sliding up and down next to your opening, not touching your wetness. You appreciate that he’s not about to let his dirty gloves make things unsanitary. You gather up saliva to the front of your mouth and carefully coat your first two fingers.

Mando keeps his grip on your wrist, and pushes your hand down to your entrance as soon as he’s done watching your lips and tongue work over your own fingers.

You smooth the spit over your slit, Mando’s grip still guiding you, making sure you do a thorough job lubricating yourself. His other thumb creeps down over your clit, rocking across it carefully, steadily, his helmet angling back up to watch your face.

It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open against the pleasure of that pressure, finally right where you need it. But you remember his rule. You keep your gaze locked on the beskar as your own fingers find a rhythm underneath his, the gloved hand locked around your wrist urging you to press into yourself deeper, faster, in coordination with his rolling thumb. You find yourself clutching at the back of his neck just to keep your balance as the needy pleasure explodes. “That’s it,” his voice soothes over the modulator, “get yourself ready for me.”

You’re doing more than getting ready. Even just this much touch from him is sending you straight toward a spiraling orgasm, now that all the wild pleasure built up by every slap and struggle and pinch finally has somewhere to go.

He sees it coming, the way your eyelids go tight at the effort to keep them open and looking at him. “Don’t,” he warns. “Save it.”

He stops moving his thumb, though he doesn’t release its pressure. He swirls your hand inside of yourself one last time before drawing it out, then setting it back onto his shoulder in line with the other one.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his thumb while Mando starts loosening his own clothing. You want to call him cruel when he removes that hand too, bringing it up to caress your neck, but you have no ability to talk back anymore. Especially when his fingers curl up underneath your jaw. “Now. The most important thing.” You can feel him pulling himself out of his pants, though he’s brought his body in closer and you can’t see that far with your head tilted up in his hand like this. “Don’t look down.” His fingers squeeze tighter around your jaw, the heel of his hand pressing into the top of your throat. “If you look, I’ll have to kill you.”

He could be exaggerating, just to make this hotter for you, more intense, but you remember what he said to some over-curious bitch at Karga’s tavern once. No living thing has seen me without my helmet. Apparently The Way is preserved if violators quickly become only the formerly living.

“Yes,” you say quickly, voicebox buzzing against his wrist, words mumbling together against the unrelenting pressure in his fingers, “I understand.”

A few more quick movements down where you can’t see, and then you feel something warm and thick pressing up against your core. You both moan together as he slides his head up and down your slick folds, only fumbling a little before he finds his aim. Fuck. This is what you’ve been craving. You brace yourself against the cargo crate as best you can, squeezing your legs around him to invite him in.

You think you're ready to take him, but you're not. He crushes in bigger and wider than you’re used to, and you wail up into that impassive beskar face and try in vain to remember how to relax and take a dick like this one.

His breath is catching in little straining grunts; apparently this is pretty overwhelming for him, too. When he’s halfway in he removes his guiding hand from his own shaft and returns his thumb to your clit; that helps. The more familiar pleasure of his pressure helps melt your walls into the stretch of him. “You’re so. Fucking. Tight.” His hand never wavers on your jaw as he starts to pump, in and out, getting a little bit deeper into you with every thrust, groaning a little louder with every inch he gains.

Fuck. This position has every muscle in your body straining, which is probably why it’s so hard for him to fit in, but you don’t even care because the intensity of it is everything that you’ve been craving. “Fuck—” he adjusts his grip just a fraction, so you can talk a little easier, “fuck me just how you want, Mando, I can take it.”

He groans and takes his thumb off your clit, bringing that big hand around to grab onto your hip and brace you for a wilder pace. You only bemoan the loss of his thumb for a second, because the new angle slides his cock against a wicked spot deeper inside you.

“Ahh!” you wail, and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, needing him to hold you up as he fucks up into you at an angle that destroys the precarious balance you had been maintaining on the edge of this cargo crate. His controlling grip on your neck is choking you just a little, a sensation so erotic that you can feel your impending orgasm sizzle and tighten all around his cock the more you focus on it. “Mando, I—Can I?” you pant, your face so close that your breath is fogging up the beskar.

“Yes, fucking come for me,” he orders, then presses into you harder, his grip momentarily cutting off your airway completely. A second later your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, spasming every muscle in your core, your thighs, in your silent, breathless chest, and Mando just keeps fucking you through it all.

As soon as the heel of his hand slides off your throat you’re screaming through your teeth, the sound bouncing along with his thrusts. His pace is relentless until your orgasm finally peaks, and the stiffness of your body starts to melt against him. You realize that you’ve wrapped your arms fully around his helmet, getting as close as his controlling grip on your jaw would allow.

His pace slows, but it does not stop. From the aching deep inside your belly, you know that he’s still fully hard, just giving you a brief moment to recover yourself.

You sigh into the side of his head, a long, lovely sound. Your body shivers with aftershocks around his solid shaft, keeping your pleasure brimming, not letting it fade. That hand controlling your jaw pushes you back, gently, until he can see your face again.

His grip spasms on your ass. He must like what he sees. “Close your eyes.” You do, and he starts to pull away. “Keep them closed. I’m turning you over.”

You unlock your ankles from behind his back as he draws his length out of your body, both of you gasping and shuddering as he withdraws. Your legs come down to the ground rather stiffly, and you’re glad of the way he manhandles you along, until you’re bending over the crate with your thighs pressed into its edge. You’re not sure your legs would have held you up without his help.

Mando wastes no time lining his cock back up again. You hold onto the edges of the cargo crate as he presses in eagerly. A gasp rips from your throat as your head lifts up in an involuntary bend of your back; this position lets him drive in deeper, forcing you to adjust to his size all over again.

A split second after your head comes up, Mando’s fingers squeeze through your hair at the base of your skull, using that grip to hold you steady and facing forward. You really weren’t trying to turn and look, but you suppose he can’t risk it. He keeps control of your head, pulling your hair a little in time to his thrusts, as he groans out a deep, pleasured sound. You give voice to how you’re feeling, too, letting little sobbing moans spill out in time to his insistent thrusts. He can’t see your face anymore, and you barely have the leverage to move your hips against him, so this is the only way to keep the connection.

“Oh, keep making those sounds,” Mando pants, then the modulator keeps crackling with more of his soft grunts as he plumbs your depths. “You take me so good.” When he flattens his hips against your ass it definitely hurts; he’s reached the end of you, and is trying to stretch past it, deep inside. But even that pain is erotic; you wail and submit under his praise and his smothering need.

His grunts and his thrusts both start coming faster, and just as you fear that you’re hitting your limit, that you can’t take any more, some new dimension of release and submission open up inside you, and all that suffering transforms into a pleasure so fierce that your walls are clenching and your mind is wiped by an orgasm that turns the rest of your body to jelly.

When your mind clears you find your cheek flush to the surface of the cargo crate. Mando’s hand is pressing it there, with his fingers wrapped across your eyes, and he’s groaning through his teeth as he smashes himself as deep into your body as he can get. He shudders and bucks, roaring through his orgasm, the modulator translating the sound with an almost musical edge.

When he’s done he sags partially on top of you, his belly resting on your hips while his arms keep his chestplate from digging into your back. His cock is keeping you plugged, a thick presence that makes you feel stretched even when it’s going soft. One of his hands is still resting over your eyes, but all the tension has gone out of it. You wonder if he’d feel the flicker of your eyelashes against his glove if your lids accidentally parted. You keep them closed.

He hums, fingertips running softly up your back. You wonder if he’s looking down, admiring your bare skin once again. Your entire body is thrumming, the satisfaction spreading to every muscle fiber. You know things will feel awkward soon, but for now you really don’t want to move.

Eventually Mando pulls himself gently out of you. A spurt of warm liquid follows, running thickly down your leg. Fuck, how backed up was he?

“Don’t move,” he warns, lifting his body up off of yours.

You give him a contented little murmur and stay perfectly relaxed. “Eyes still shut,” you reassure him. You’re not even annoyed at the lack of trust these constant reminders might convey. This is something he has to control strictly. Certainly it’s a great privilege that he even took the risk with you. You listen to his footsteps retreat and return, as you lay draped over the cargo crate and enjoy the bliss that is only just beginning to fade.

“You can open them now,” he says softly once he’s standing over you again. One hand slides over your ass, pausing at a spot that feels surprisingly sensitive. “I’ve given you a welt or two here.”

“Souvenir,” you grin up at him, twisting your spine while keeping your hips relaxed under his hand. “Thanks.”

Mando nods his helmet back at you. He’s got a cloth in his other hand, dampened from the fresher, and he wipes up the mess he’s left between your legs with careful, steady dabs. “I should be the one thanking you,” he says softly, maybe even a little awkwardly. “That was…”

“Overdue?” you quip, as he’s wiping all the way down to your ankle to clean up the enormous load he had for you.

“Maybe just a little.” He steps away to trade the towel for a thin, precisely-folded blanket, which he shakes out and spreads over you. You stand up in his arms as he does, guiding him to wrap it around your shoulders. You hold it tight and lean in toward him for a snug embrace. The blanket makes pressing your bare body against his armored plating much more comfortable. “Come here,” he mutters, and draws you to sit on the floor with him, leaning up against the cargo crate and each other. Even the afterglow of wild sex with the Mandalorian doesn’t make his spare ship any less uncomfortable, but you focus on the way his arm holds you tucked in tight against his body, the way you can feel him breathing against your ribs.

“That was good,” you breathe.

“Yeah.”

You lean your head tentatively against his shoulder, wondering how much intimacy he’s going to allow now. His arm shifts, helping you get more comfortable, and his thumb is dragging back and forth, idly, along the top of your thigh.

There’s one question you have to ask.

“Would you really have had to kill me, if I looked?”

He holds his breath for a moment, then lets it blow out with a soft glottal sound. “Most Mandalorians would. But honestly? To me, that wouldn’t have made a difference. Even if you didn’t live to tell the tale, my honor would still be smirched. I’d know I’d failed a central tenet, and from every day after I’d be living a lie.”

Your brow creases, and you turn to look up at him even though you can’t read his face. That was kriffing serious. “So it’s not just about the helmet.”

His beskar mask nods. “Not the way I was raised.”

You turn your gaze away, idly looking across the cargo bay. “Wow.” You’d never seen him not covered head to toe, and you never would.

“But I think…” he trails off as his hands burrow under your blanket, coming around to meet each other in front of your belly and fumbling with something. “I think this is acceptable.” His hand finds one of yours, and air rushes into your chest in a silent, measured gasp as you realize the fingers winding between yours are his, warm skin, completely bared to the wrist.

You sit together in silence for a long time, feeling the twin pulses of living palms pressed together, the small twitches of muscle and the sparkle of nerve endings when a finger softly strokes across the back of a hand. The more you imagine how much this must mean to him, the more it means to you, until your head is spinning and you can barely handle the intimacy of the kind of touch you’ve always taken simply for granted.

You’re afraid to ask what this means. This whole encounter was so unplanned; you don’t even know what you want from the Mandalorian, much less what he wants from you. Is he doing this just because of the afterglow rush of soft hormones, or does he think you and he could be something more?

And when you feel awkward, you talk. People skills, remember? You squeeze his hand and restart an old conversation. “Told you we make a good team.”

He grunts.

Maybe you should just shut up and enjoy the cuddle. But his non-answer does not help your racing mind to still. The urge to tease him starts taking over again. “You know, we’re still not done negotiating that split.”

Mando groans softly. “The only split I want to think about is how far I can split open your legs.”

A new thrill runs up your spine, but you stay on track with only a small giggle escaping your throat. “How about we round it back up to sixty percent for me, and as soon as that big dick can get hard again, I’ll throw on a blindfold and give you the best head you ever had in your life.”

Mando’s fingers card through yours, and his other hand comes up to play with your hair. “Tempting.” There’s a rumble deep in his throat that makes your aching cunt tighten. “But let’s just call it 50-50, and we can fuck all the way to Nevarro.”

Part Two here

My Mando Smut Masterlist

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