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capitanooos · 19 days ago

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coins and sapphires, swords and sandals // lucius verus x reader

-`♡´- pairing : lucius verus x reader (fem)

-`♡´- summary : when readers first betrothed unwillingly finds his way back to Rome as a gladiator, things go differently than he had expected.

-`♡´- warnings : violence, gladiator 2 spoilers, and 1 too i guess, kiss kiss mwahmwah. acacius as readers daddy. reader is about 25, lucius 27ish to make the timeline in my head work lol.

-`♡´- extra : for more updates on more parts or lack of, check my other blog @jorra3lagon !!

-`♡´- notes : i guess this can count as a summary, or introduction to a whole fanfic ill write soon cause i cant get enough of paul mescal as lucius hihihhihi

-`♡´- word count : 4538

dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission. not my gif

211 AD

As the farewells came to an end and the halls of the Acacius villa emptied, silence returned once more.

Ever since her father returned from his conquest in Numidia [Name] her life felt like a sick joke. From her black clothing, to the tear stains on her cheeks, to the constant visits of important people. Her second husband was dead. Her third love had left her alone in this world. The gods had damned her.

As she sipped the wine from her cup she stared at the fish in the water. So carefree, swimming endless circles in the pool, not having to worry for a second of losing their loved ones. They looked stunning, the fire from the lanterns reflecting on their colorful scales as they let out small air bubbles.

“Dear,” Lady Lucilla stood behind her, speaking to her softly as she moved to sit at [Name]'s side, also admiring the colorful fish. Now the two were connected by her father, Marcus Acacius, but before that their connection would’ve laid with [Name] her first betrothed. Lucius Verus. It had been nearly twenty years since his disappearance, and as time went, it became evident he would not be returning. He was presumed dead.

[Name] had gone on to marry a high lord as was expected of her. The lord who died of illness that took him away quickly, not too long after their marriage. She knew his interests lay not with women, they had an understanding and he was a good man. Had he lived longer, she knew her life would have been well with him, for he would never have hurt her, but alas, the good never live long.

Two years later, she remarried. As a lady of her status and bloodline, it was her duty. This time she married one of her fathers trusted advisers. A man, not older than thirty. With him, she had carried one child, who never lived to take his first breath. Two and a half years later, her second husband followed their child to the next world.

Now she had returned home once again, sharing a roof with her father and stepmother once more. The house that once kept Lucius safe and warm too.

“I feel for you, daughter.” Lucilla spoke again softly. Her hand comes up to caress [Name]s in a sense of comfort. The younger of the two women looked up, the tears in her reddened eyes reflecting in the red of the fire. Unlike the beautifully reflecting fish, her tears were angry, full of grief, shame. They fell with no shame. Tear after tear, grieving all that she had lost, and seemed to continue losing.

“As the daughter of our beloved General Acacius we mourn with you, Lady [Name]. It brought us much regret to hear of the passing of your late husband.” Much to her surprise, Emperor Geta spoke as he looked at her when she bowed before him in greeting. She was invited to one of their parties, where they would allegedly show one of the barbarians they captured in Numidia.

“Thank you, sire.” [Name] bowed her head at the Emperors again. They intimidated her, as they did with almost the whole of Rome. In the few times she had the absolute pleasure of being in their presence, she had always stuck close to her father, later on husbands, when they’d approach. The looks in their eyes scared her, they were like lions, able to snap and attack at any moment.

“Ah, you’re the girl who was betrothed to Lady Lucilla’s boy?�� Emperor Caracalla spoke up as he looked at [Name] with funny eyes. She froze before nodding,

“Yes, sire, may the gods be with him.”

Emperor Geta gave his brother a look, seemingly confused as to how his brother would remember that given his… situation. He waved her away with a small half smile before returning his attention back to one of his concubines.

Giving one last bow, she moved to the sidelines, her once black dresses now back in their usual colorful state. Jewellery adorning her neck, hands, arms, waist, and ears clicking like a soft jingle as she walked among lords and ladies. Eventually her eyes laid on one of her friends. “Fortuna,” she smiled as she approached the woman. “I’m so glad to see you.”

The woman returned her greeting, pulling the other woman in for an embrace. “I’m also glad to see you here, out of your mourning clothes with that.” She spoke as she linked their arms together and moved back through the crowd. “Father says he’s getting the fiercest of the barbarians your father captured here to fight one of the Emperors their own champion.” smiles were exchanged as they politely pushed through the people. “Here look, he’s sitting right there.” Fortuna pointed to an exit, there on a bench sat a young man, looking down at the ground.

His dark blonde hair shone brightly from beneath the dirt that coated it. Cuts covered his face and arms, and probably the rest of his body too. She couldn’t see much more than that as Fortuna kept talking and walking to the front of the crowd to get a better view at the fight that was to happen soon.

“I saw him fight in the arena where my father bought him. He was biting away at some of the apes they fought. They call him the ape-eater.”

The guests cheered as the Emperors their champion was brought in. He bowed before the red haired rulers and they offered him a nod. [Name] her gaze wasn’t laid on either the Emperors or their champion. It was laid on the barbarian from Numidia who was being brought in. His shackles were undone when he stood in front of the Emperors as well. Up close she could see his bright blue eyes as they reflected in the sunlight that entered the big room. His facial features were sharp and he looked exactly like the statues of Roman heroes. [Name] her mouth slightly hung open as only one thought ran through her mind.

Lucius

As the name ran through her mind like a mantra the barbarian looked at her, and his eyes grew a tiny bit. His gaze was fierce and his beautiful blue eyes were filled with rage and anger as he studied her own eyes.

Lucius

His gaze swept over her face, down her body before snapping back to her eyes. His gaze now hardened as he looked at her again before turning his head away as a sword was thrusted into his hands.

Emperor Caracalla’s giggles and the screeches of his monkey echoed through the room as they fought, but [Name] her gaze was stuck on the same spot on the wall where the barbarian stood seconds ago.

Yelps and screams snapped her out of her trance and her eyes looked around, breathing out in relief when she saw the barbarian unharmed, impaling the Emperor's gladiator with his sword. The crowd cheered and clapped as the fallen champion was dragged out. [Name] continued to stare at the barbarian, who resembled so much more than he realized, as he refused to speak to the emperor.

His laugh echoed through the room as he finally opened his mouth after Marcrinus made up a lie. He stared at the Emperor intensely as he took a step toward him. The former took a small staggering step back as fear crossed his face for a split second, unknowing what the barbarian in front of him might do if he stayed within arms length of him.

“The gates of hell are open night and day, smooth is the descent, and easy is the way. But…” [Name] her mouth fell open in shock of hearing Virgil, poetry coming out of his mouth, “...to come back from hell, and view the cheerful skies, in this the task and mighty labor lies.”

The edges of [Name] her vision began to go dark as she held onto Fortuna for support. The woman glanced down at her and upon seeing her pale face she brought her to a place to sit. The dark haired woman searched the others' eyes, not being able to find anything.

“What is the matter, friend?”

[Name] held a hand to her sweating forehead as she closed her eyes. Trying to get rid of her false hope and get herself together before anyone noticed that she was acting off.

“I suppose my stomach can not handle violence and bloodshed from this close up.” she lied with a small laugh, hoping she didn’t act too out of character for herself. “It felt like I was about to have a fainting spell.”

The other woman smiled as she offered her her drink. “I’ll have someone call for your carriage to get back home.”

The ride home was a blur. It must have been nothing more than a coincidence. It couldn’t have been anything else. She was greeted by a servant who accompanied her to her rooms and helped her change. The summer heat peaked these days and even the lightest clothes seemed suffocating if you wore them too long.

She kept silent for hours. The servants assumed she was still mourning her late husband, which would make sense. Supper went the same, any questions were just answered with a nod or shake of her head, eyes cast down at the food on her plate or the wine in her cup. Lucilla and Acacius exchanged looks, and Acacius couldn’t help but see his daughter as herself from a decade ago. Rebellious in her teen years, maturing into a young woman, looking more and more like her biological mother who had left the world too soon. He could see past her facade, he could see the clockworks rotating in her head, focussed, thinking, lost somewhere deep in her own world up in her head.

After dinner she had quickly excused herself before returning to her quarters. She stood in front of the collection of crystals, rocks, gems, and other small trinkets that laid on the desk. They had collected dust over the years that they had laid there. Their price value wouldn’t be that high, but their emotional value lay high. Higher than any money could ever buy.

Back when Lucius and she were betrothed, she was no older than six summers, Lucius not a full moon above eight. Lady Lucilla had a big part in the betrothal, knowing the girl’s mother as a childhood friend from court and believing they would make a strong couple. The daughter of a general, and the Prince of Rome. When Lucius had found out, he saw it not as a betrothal but as a friendship, after all, they were both children, they wouldn’t understand until at least a little later in life.

So always if Lucius found out [Name] would be in the city, he’d have his guards find her so he could give her small gifts. They were young but the pair grew oddly fond of each other and soon, a whole shelf of crystals and other precious shining items came to be in her rooms.

The years after Lucius’ disappearance she understood more and more how much he had meant to her, what would’ve been if he was still here, how different her life would have been. The items meant everything to her, for they were her last real connection to Lucius.

“You know, I would always be missing some items from my jewellery boxes when Lucius went out into the city. Or sometimes it was servants who reported missing items from the halls.” Lucilla said as she stood in the doorframe, admiring the young woman who had a bright green gemstone pressed against her chest. “It didn’t take long before I found out it was Lucius who took them. I followed him into the city, to the markets where I saw him giving you something. I watched as you took out a gold butterfly and smiled brightly. I never said a thing about the missing items, and often I laid out things for him to find and take.” Slowly she walked into the room and stood beside [Name] “He really loved you.”

The young girl nodded.

“What is bothering you, daughter?” Lucilla took one of her hands, holding it tightly as she searched her stepdaughter's eyes. They were filled with sorrow, her whole face portrayed it. She felt [Name] grip her hand as she stared at her.

“The Numidian barbarian I watched fight at the Emperors’ gathering…” she shook her head, looking down at the green stone in her hand.

Even when all hope seems lost, know it will return. Little wise Lucius Verus’ words from when he gave her this stone rang through her head.

“Curls as blonde as your own, eyes as blue as the heavens.” Lucilla’s eyes were still on her, “The only thing I could think of when I saw him was Lucius. He recited Virgil; The gates of hell are open night and day, smooth is the descent, and easy is the way… Lucilla, you mustn't think of me as crazy.”

She felt the elder woman tighten her grip on her hand as she slowly pulled her along. They walked through the halls, crossed the courtyard, and entered the secret door that led to Lucius his former chambers. [Name] had only been there once or twice, years and years ago.

Lucilla stood still as she looked up, where drawings and words decorated the walls. [Name] followed her gaze, eyes widening upon realization. The words laid right in front of her, the exact words the blue eyed barbarian had recited.

The gates of hell are open night and day, smooth is the descent, and easy is the way. But to come back from hell, and view the cheerful skies, in this the task and mighty labor lies.

“General Justus Acacius, and with him his daughter [Name] and his wife, Lucilla! The daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius!

[Name] entered the Emperor's box in the Colosseum behind her father and Lucilla, hearing the people cheer for her father as they were introduced. It would forever surprise her how loud, and how massive the place was. She did not attend the games often, for it was known the bloodshed often fell bad on her stomach, but now, she felt like she needed to attend.

She took her seat next to Lucilla as her father spoke to the citizens. His voice rang through the crowd as they chanted his name. She saw Emperor Geta look in her direction, smiling wickedly when he caught her eyes before turning back around.

As the announcer spoke up again, the doors opened and the first gladiators came out. [Name] held her breath in fear as she looked among them. Her hand was interlinked with Lucilla’s, who saw him before she did and tightened her hand so hard her knuckles turned white. She followed her stepmother's gaze, and her eyes landed on the blue eyed barbarian once again and she returned the grasp on her stepmother's hand. The gladiator's eyes shifted to hers, and his gaze held familiarity, but before she could react, he had already looked away.

The south doors opened and in came the Emperor's prized champion.

“Hail Caesars!” he bellowed and the crowd followed with cheers and chants.

The two women up in the Emperor's box held their breath as they exchanged a knowing look. A mutual understanding.

Boo’s echoed through the stadium, cheers encouraged the gladiators, excitement buzzed and the emperors grew more blood thirsty every time a gladiator dodged the massive rhino.

When the blue eyed barbarian thrusted his sword down into the sand, and bent down to grab two fistfuls of sand she heard Lucilla breathe out a shuddering breath as she looked at him in curiosity and confusion.

The rhino crashed into the wall of the arena, causing a stir in the crowd and the Emperors rushed to the railing to see what happened like two little boys. A fight broke loose, the rider of the rhino and the barbarian fought. The upper hand going to the rider of the rhino, he kicked and threw the barbarian around and Emperor Geta spoke up.

“Brother, it’s that poet, is it not?” he spoke as he watched his brother sit back down with the excuse of not knowing. “The gates of hell are open night and day… Smooth is… I forgot… Smooth the…”

“Smooth is the descent, easy is the way.”

Below, the fight was still going, clouds of dust rising up in the arena as the crowds chanted for mercy. The chants turned into roars of excitement as the Emperor granted mercy in the name of the Gods. “No mercy!” the barbarian yelled, looking up to the box as he rested on one knee. “I would rather face your blade, than accept Roman mercy!” With that he stood up as the rhino rider charged for him again.

It happened in the blink of an eye as he rolled around and sliced his sword into his chest, watching how he fell to his knees as he cradled the wound. Now the crowds chanted for the kill, and the barbarian complied. The crowds were loud before, but now they went ballistic, and [Name] was certain all of Rome could hear them chant the gladiator's name.

“Hanno! Hanno! Hanno!”

The name continued to ring through [Name] her head as they made their way home. Lucilla had seen for herself what [Name] had told her days prior, and she too knew this was her son. Two decades had gone by since she had sent him off for his own safety. Two decades of wondering if her son was still alive, and now he had stood below her, captured in Numidia, fighting on the same ground where his father died.

Marcus Acacius was now looking at two distressed women. The two women he held closest to his heart, seeming in utter despair as they held their silence.

“Alright, what is the matter?” he spoke up once they reached the safety of their home, he couldn’t pretend any longer. He watched as the two women exchanged a glance, then stared confused as Lucilla ordered the servants out of the room.

“Lucius is alive,” [Name] started and her father looked at her with widened eyes. Her eyes were cast down on the stones at their feet, hand wrapped around the golden necklace at her neck.

Acacius looked at his wife who nodded, “He’s alive.”

He closed his eyes, his memories instantly snapping back to the young prince he once knew as his future son-in-law. The small, blonde boy with eyes as bright as the heavens.

“You are certain?”

“Yes, I know my son.”

[Name] her father sat down, looking at her. The tears were gathering in her eyes, she had mourned that boy greatly for many years. For a while she had refused to marry her first husband, saying it felt wrong, knowing she was still promised to another. She had prayed to the gods, prayed for his safety, prayed for his safe return to Rome, and now it seemed it had become reality.

“Father, I knew it was him when I watched him fight at the Emperors’ gathering. His reaction to seeing me was enough to prove my suspicions.” she met her fathers eyes, walking toward him and taking one of his hands in hers. “I know of your plans. I overheard the conversations with the senators. The dream of Marcus Aurelius. With Lucius alive, those two ginger maniacs have less claim to the empire. Please allow me to speak to him, get him to work with us. Fortuna won’t tell a soul if I ask her, she is like a sister to me and she owes me a favor.”

If Lucius Verus was truly alive, and back in Rome, that would change everything. Their plans to overthrow the Emperors would be easier with a male heir, the heir of Emperor Commodus, Lucilla knew that too. So Acacius nodded at his daughter, whose teary eyes turned into a smile as she embraced her father.

“Thank you, father.”

Once she stopped in front of the gates to the place Marcinius kept his gladiators, she slipped off her horse. Her fathers personal guard stood at a distance, ensuring her safety on the road. She walked to one of the sides, looking for the window she knew too well and when she did she called out.

“Fortuna!” It was soft, but loud enough for the other woman to poke her head out of the window. She nodded and disappeared again before appearing at the side gate leading to her and her fathers house.

“I want to see the gladiator Hanno.”

Her friend looked at her in shock but grinned as she took her hand and led her through the now dark courtyard. She was never more thankful for her friend as she opened the cell and let her in, standing on the lookout not far away.

“So, you’re the barbarian from Numidia.” [Name] spoke as she looked at the gladiators back. He wore no shirt and she could see the scars and wounds on his toned back. “Hanno, no?”

He turned around when she called his name, eyes once more growing in surprise as he saw her.

“My lady, yes.” he said, eyes tracing her whole form. From her dark blue dress to her dark robe, and the singular gold necklace, it was different as opposed to the light colors and many jewellery items she wore when he had first seen her. “What do you need from me?”

She studied his eyes, he was much closer now than he’d been in the last few days. The moon light shone in through the high barred window and fell on his face.

She took off her necklace and she held it up in front of his face. “Do you know who this is?” she spoke as the coin shimmered in the moonlight, illuminating the face on it.

LUCIUS VERUS II it read around the face.

“Lucius Verus the second?” Hanno spoke, reading it off the coin.

“You can read, you know Virgil, I’ve been informed you know Roman history, you fight like-” fought exactly like the boy she used to watch as he parred with his guards. “Like a trained Roman swordsman. You are no Numidian, so don’t pretend to be one, Lucius.”

He raised his brows at her, at her choice of words, at the name she called him. A cocky smile adorned his face as he took a daring step forward, his smile widening when she didn’t move back, instead only straightening her back and raising her chin to look at him.

“Whoever you think I am, you are wrong.” Hanno bent down a little, towering over her as she held his fierce gaze.

She reached into the pocket of her cloak, her fingers wrapping around the cold stone as she brought it out.

“Nineteen summers ago, I got this sapphire from my betrothed, the young prince Lucius Verus. When he gave it to me he said the words; even when all hope seems lost, know it will return. Not long later after that he disappeared. Whether he knew it then or not, he would be our hope in the future. He is our hope now. Not only to save Rome from the rule it is now under, but also to bring the dream of Marcus Aurelius to reality.”

Hanno looked at her, something in his gaze changed as he stood straight again. His gaze fell to the small treasures in her hand.

“You carry the face of a missing prince around your neck? How your husband must like that.” he scoffed as he turned his back to her once more.

“He was a dear friend, and a great loss not only to me, but his mother too. I loved the prince, with my entire heart. I still do.”

That had Hanno turning his head around, looking at her as she turned to leave the cell before turning her own face back to him.

“Lucius Verus is our last hope. Stay alive gladiator.”

“Wait,” Hanno turned back around and took a big step forward, she could feel his warm breath on her neck. “Why? Why do you think I am your precious prince.”

[Name] turned around to face him, her brows furrowed at his choice of words, his arrogant, nearly mocking tone. She looked at the necklace that was dangling between them.

“The gods have damned me, but that does not mean I forget the ones I love. Some things do not change, can not change. You have three birthmarks on the left side of your neck. Along with a scar covering both of your calves from the same sword strike from when you insisted on practicing with real swords with your uncle, Emperor Commodus.” She reached a hand up to his neck, lightly touching the three birthmarks before trailing behind him, and sure enough, the white lines covering his calves stood out among his toned skin. “The gates of hell are open night and day. Smooth is the descent and easy is the way. Those are the lines written on the walls of your childhood bedroom. I can go on, but I knew it was you from the first moment we made eye contact at the Emperors’ gathering.” she finished as she circled back in front of him.

Hanno looked at her with wide eyes, his breathing heavy. He had not counted on being recognised that easily. Hell, he had not even counted on seeing her. His eyes darted between hers before they fell on her soft, plush lips. All those years and she still remembered the smallest things about him, carrying his face around her neck, close to her heart. Kept the trinkets he had gifted her all those years ago. She risked her life coming here just to seek confirmation of what she already knew.

“We-”

He pressed his lips against her own, his worn and scarred hands coming up to cup her face as she returned the kiss. Her hands moved to his chest, one pulling him closer by the back of his neck as the other felt his heart go crazy below his skin. The kiss was slow but rough as one of his hands travelled to her lower back and pulled her body closer to his.

They broke apart when they heard soft footsteps approaching. They looked to the door of the cell to see Fortuna motioning it was time for [Name] to go.

[Name], who still held the gold necklace in her hand, looked up at the man before her. She reached for the necklace with her other hand before moving them around Hanno’s neck and locking it.

“Remember who you are, and remember what is rightfully yours.” she cupped his cheek and he leaned down to touch his forehead to hers. “Stay alive, Lucius.”

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

dont forget to like and reblog <3 please😓😓

dont translate, modify or repost my work. you do not have permission.

#gladiator 2 #gladiator #paul mescal #lucius verus aurelius #lucius verus x you #lucius #lucius verus #lucius verus x reader #gladiator movie #gladiator II #paul mescal gladiator #hanno gladiator #gladiator lucius #hanno x reader #gladiator2 #i need this man so bad #pedro pascal #marcus acacius #justus acacius

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yan-randomfandom · 2 months ago

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Yandere!Jinx x GN!Reader Headcanons

Y'know, in a way, canon Jinx is already a platonic yandere for Vi.

Jinx—Powder loves her. She clung to that love for so many years. And when she saw Vi again, God, she really did think that things could go back to... normal.

Then Caitlyn came into the picture. Her sister followed her willingly, became her company. Jinx wouldn't admit it, but jealousy and fear overwhelmed her. Her detestable hallucinations made a show for it.

She proceeds to kidnap them both. Playing with their lives. The whole lore stuff happens, but one thing's for sure—Jinx loves Vi. And that's only platonically.

So, does Jinx have the capacity to be an actual yandere? Yes. Yes, she does.

Mentally unstable, capable of killing without remorse, and obsessive—the whole package, sadly. I'm gonna go with the one-sided love for this headcanon specifically. I can't imagine her being in an actual relationship.

Alas, she's overwhelming. Her presence can be extremely suffocating.

Expect little to no boundaries or personal space. Honestly, just don't expect any sense of privacy from her at all. She'll pop up at anytime, anywhere, regardless of what you're doing.

Jinx adores you so much, and depending on your relationship, you can get her to do almost anything for you.

But remember, she's unpredictable, as always. She might do things that are completely out of sight.

For example, taking out that one topsider who whistled you over... What? Why are you upset?? You can't expect her to let that slide!

If you ever decide to ignore her, she'll simply follow you around—like a puppy almost—and quietly stare at you with her doe eyes.

You care about her. That's one of the many reasons why she fell for you. Even if it was out of pity—it doesn't matter. All she knew was that your actions felt genuine.

She gives you the same favor back in her own way.

Sure, she might not be able to comfort you like you comfort her, but look! She worked her ass off to make this music box for you! (Surprisingly enough, it doesn't explode when it finishes.)

"A fine tune made by yours truly, babe!"

Jinx has an intense fear and paranoia of you leaving her. She killed lost so many people. There are times where she'll keep her distance from you, but you and she both know it won't last long.

To counter her anxiety, she secures your safety in one way or another. Even if you can handle yourself.

At the very least, I don't think she'll kidnap you. She doesn't have to unless it's absolutely necessary.

But that's only because you're under her watch 24/7. If anything happens to you, it happens to her.

Please take note that she doesn't get along with jealousy well.

Be kind to her. Don't try, or even think, about leaving her.

Adding more stress won't end well for both of you.

btw jinx is doing this sign rn → 🫶😉

so silly tbh 🏄

edit: written before act 2 ..... i would have done this very differently

#yan writes #yandere #yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #jinx x reader #yandere jinx x reader #yandere jinx

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youryanderedaddy · 7 months ago

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tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)

He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.

He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.

It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.

To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.

"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."

You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.

"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."

And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

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hexlenx · 2 months ago

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Could you do more of Sergei? Or an alphabet? Plsss

A/N: absolutely! But the alphabet might take a while since I'm thinking of more headcannons for that. I'll do both fluff and nsfw alphabets for that since there isn't really a specific kind of alphabet so I hope you don't mind the slight delay!

PLANT LIFE — sergei kravinoff

note: I do not own sergei kravinoff or Aaron Taylor-Johnson even though I wish I could but only in my dreams, the only thing I own here is the plot which is very much random.

warning!: none 'cuz we fluffy today, pookie<3

__________________

Sergei never thought of having a life outside of violence when he grew up only knowing it. His family wasn't really the best and it was one of the reasons why he split off with them but alas, old habits die hard.

But then there was you. A ball of sunshine that barged into his life like when the sunlight rayed through his windows in his bedroom. You were a sudden gift that he didn't know he could have. All the teachings he learned from his life suddenly went out of the window the moment you flashed him a smile.

So here he was, in a grey t-shirt and black slacks leaning against the metal pole holding up the small tent you both fixed up for some of the plants you bought in the city. He was watching you tend to the vegetables you both started to grow in the last few months, courtesy of you convincing him that this would make your daily lives easier than just shopping for some food in the supermarket.

See, while you both live in deep in the woods. That doesn't mean that you both weren't able to adapt to the society, no. You both agreed that you can continue in this medieval life as well as in the modern society in harmony. While Sergei might not admit it, it did make it easier.

It was hot outside meaning it was time for you to water the plants before the sun dried it up. Standing up from your spot you walked towards the faucet on the wall of the back of the cabin. Your lover installed it in the moment he saw you struggling to get water from inside the kitchen to water your plants. You were grateful and gave him tons of kisses as thanks which made him swat you away gently. This caused you to giggle since you knew he was not used to affection, he only ever showed it to you and it made you fall in love with him more.

Filling up the tub full of water you began to carry the heavy object with your hands but it proved to be difficult as it was too heavy for you. Seeing this, Sergei shook his head in amusement as he continued to watch you. He really liked seeing you suffer from the smallest things.

Sighing, he began to make his way towards you before grabbing the tub from your hands and carrying it instead.

"You're weak." He mocked but there was no heat in it. You pouted before slapping his arm, not like it did any damage anyway.

"Well, sorry for being a woman I guess." You retorted in feign annoyance before making your way towards the farm with him following you.

This happened everytime you both spend time together. Bickering like an old married couple, tending to the plants behind your cabin, spending it walking around the forest, drinking coffee in the living room by the fireplace, spending heated nights together. It was peaceful and everything you both needed.

Never would have Sergei thought that having you in his life would bring this much peace in him. To the outside world, he was cruel, vicious, cold-hearted, and insane but to you he was a kind, warm, thoughtful and a very tentative lover. He was everything that you wanted and you were everything that he wanted as well.

Your laughter echoed behind the cabin as Sergei tackled you with his whole body being wet from the tub that you purposely pushed towards him. The water from his body soaking you up as well as his hands roamed around your waist. This tickled you as your waist was pretty sensitive and he knew that.

You were both now covered in dirt from your playfulness. Pausing to take a breather, you both then started to get lost in each other's eyes. Taking in each other's appearances even with how long you've been seeing each other, it still felt like it was the first time.

You beamed at him as you cupped his face into your hands making him smile slightly but it seemed to make you smile even more brightly than before if it was even possible. Just seeing his smile made you feel accomplished. You knew how much of a hard guy he is and seeing him melt because of you made you feel warm inside. The way he just gazes at you like you're the most important thing in the world, his touches making you feel like a masterpiece that should be cared for and the gifts he gives you made you feel like you were worth it.

It made your heart flutter everytime.

"We might need to water them now before it dries up even more from the sun." You said as you continued to examine his entire being and vice versa.

"I'm not the one who threw the water to the other, love." Sergei retorted as you giggled making him sigh quietly in content from hearing you laugh.

"You insulted me!"

"I only speak the truth."

"Blasphemy!" You gasped out dramatically as you hit him in the chest but he only smirked in amusement as it did no damage.

"But seriously, though—" you spoke out before getting cut off.

"The plants can handle being dry for a day but you, darling, do not."

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj #atj x reader #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff #kraven x reader #kraven the hunter #marvel

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fuctacles · 5 months ago

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extras: | 🐈 | 🐾 | 🐈 |

Eddie was lowkey disgusted by how his uncle would talk about one of his neighbors. No, he doesn't think it's bad for old people to fall in love or have crushes. But it's weird to know these things about his own uncle.

And it's also sad to watch, because it's been months of Stephanie this, Stephanie that, and nothing came of it, so he felt safe to assume the infatuation was one-sided. So when he tells his uncle he can't go feed her cats that week, he figures it's for the best. And not only because of Wayne's twisted ankle. To his surprise though, he doesn't seem fazed; he just waves his hand and says:

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No climbing the stairs with this thing." He pokes the cast with his crutch. "I've already volunteered you anyway."

Eddie raises his eyebrows because he surely misheard that.

"You did what now?"

"Told Stephanie I'll send you to feed her cats," Wayne says, confirming his fears.

"Why?! She has so many other neighbors!" Eddie points out, gesturing vigorously around the room, implying but meaning the flats surrounding them.

Wayne clicks his tongue at him.

"Would you let in just any of your neighbors into your home? She already trusts me, and I'm vouching for you."

Eddie gapes at him, hating that he's making a valid point. Damned be his old man and his reasonable thinking. He crosses his arms because while it makes sense, it doesn't mean Eddie can't be angry about it.

"When?"

"She's visiting her friend this weekend so she asked for Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And stay with them for a while if possible, so they don't go crazy. Ah, and the plant in the kitchen needs watering."

"Great," Eddie grits through his teeth. He's so delighted at the prospect of spending time with some old lady's cats. The whole place probably stinks of cat piss and he'll definitely kill the plant as soon as he touches it. (It was his only superpower, which is not what he aimed for when his five-year-old had been praying, thanks for nothing, Jesus.) He just hopes he won't have to meet her. Hearing some old hag complain about his clothes, hair, and general adolescence was the last thing he wanted on his weekend off. But, alas...

"She asked you to come over tomorrow so she can show you where everything is."

Eddie groans.

It's a Friday afternoon, he's at his uncle's taking a break from college and work. He should be sharing a beer with the old man, complaining about the coursework, the professors, and other students, not picking him up from the hospital, and running errands while his foot is in a cast. And certainly not meeting up with old stinky spinsters.

To add insult to injury, Miss Stephanie, (which, by the way, is such a typical old hag name) lives two floors higher and the elevator is perpetually broken. Not too high, but high enough for Eddie's anemic lungs to start collapsing.

He stops around the corner to steady his breath, because regardless of his overall attitude, he didn't want to worsen the first impression. He already refused to 'dress like a decent man' and didn't want to wheeze into the lady's face on top of it.

Once his lungs are functioning properly again, he walks into the hallway, looking for number 54 as Wayne instructed. He knocks on the door, hoping he didn't mess it up and is at the right place. What if it was 45?

It must have been because he was told Stephanie Harrington lives alone.

"Uh, sorry, I must have—"

"Are you Eddie?" The woman who opened the door takes him in. At her feet, a tabby cat peers curiously at the new human.

"Uh, yeah? I'm looking for Miss Stephanie?" he offers awkwardly. Maybe that's the friend? Or a sister?

But the woman extends her hand and smiles brightly.

"That would be me, but please call me Steph. I wish I could drill that into Wayne's thick skull." She rolls her eyes fondly.

Her big, gorgeous eyes, framed by thick lashes. She's not an old hag, she could be in her forties at best. She's tall and curvy and her hair looks straight out of a shampoo commercial. She's gorgeous. Eddie shakes her hand in a daze.

"Hi," he croaks as he's ushered inside.

"Come in, come in! I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally see you in person. I must say," she turns around and gives him a quick once-over. "Wayne's stories didn't do you justice."

Did she just check him out?

Eddie clears his throat, suddenly dry like his elbows during winter.

"Uh, same to you."

"Yeah?" She puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What does he say about me?"

"Good things only," Eddie assures her.

"So you're saying I'm a bitch." She squints at him.

"No!" His eyes widen. "What?!"

"Well, if he's saying only good things about me, and you say they don't describe me right..."

Eddie gets the point she's making and quickly shakes his head.

"No, he just made you sound like a crazy old cat lady, and you're..." He waves his hand uselessly. "Not that."

She sighs softly, shoulders sagging a little. It would be easy to miss but Eddie's senses are heightened after his fuck up.

"I kinda am, though," she says with a shrug.

Eddie feels the need to reassure her somehow.

"Well, you're not eighty and your place doesn't smell like cat litter, I think you're fine."

She barks a laugh, it's low and surprised and Eddie's cheeks are red because he's just digging further into the hole he's in, isn't he?

"Good to know the bar is so low."

Eddie groans, tired of doing damage control that's not controlling anything.

"I'm gonna shut up now."

"Please don't." Steph smiles wide and teasingly. "You're a funny one. Just like your uncle told me."

Eddie scoffs. He's going to have a word or two with the old man once he's back.

"Great, this is exactly the impression I was hoping to make."

At his words, the woman eyes him up and down again, and he can feel his cheeks heating up.

"Yeah? Not as the local punk satanist?" she teases, making Eddie bristle.

"Metalhead," he corrects instinctively and immediately winces.

"Ah, my bad. I'm not good at the subcultures thing." She smiles apologetically but it doesn't read well with how clearly amused she is. "Anyway, here's the plant I want you to water tomorrow evening. Just like, half a glass."

Right. Plants. Cats. He came here on a mission.

"Come on, I'll show you my cats."

There's only three of them and they come rushing from all corners of the flat at the rustle of a catnip bag. Eddie never saw high cats so he's glad to have this opportunity now. Stephanie points to the tabby he saw earlier.

"This is Dart, she's not actually mine, but my friend couldn't keep her at the dorms. This is Garfield," she points to the orange cat, making Eddie huff a laugh. She grins. "Yeah, don't tell anyone, but he's my favorite," she whispers, to which Eddie mimics zipping his mouth shut.

Lastly, she points to the black cat rolling on the carpet.

"And this is Arwen."

Eddie frowns.

"Like, The Lord of the Rings Arwen?"

"Yeah," Steph sighs. "Dustin named her. He's the friend I've mentioned. Dart is short for D'Artagnan and I've fought teeth and nail for Garfield not to be called Pippin."

"Pippin is a great name, though," Eddie points out.

"Maybe," she huffs, crossing her arms. "But I wanted one for myself, okay? Not everything has to be about Dustin."

"Is Dustin like, your brother or something?"

"Kinda?" She frowns. "We're not actually related but I babysat him, and then we became friends. He just stuck around, somehow." The words sound angry but her face betrays the fondness she has for her friends.

"That's nice," he offers. "I'm an only child, never met any cousins, and only ever had friends my age."

"Well, good for you. Maybe if I had friends my age I wouldn't be living alone with a bunch of cats."

Eddie frowns.

"Hey, now..."

She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"I'll show you where the food is."

Eddie's in a daze when he comes back downstairs, only realizing his visit ended when he's standing in his uncle's living room. He's been gone for only half an hour but it feels longer.

"How did it go?" his uncle asks, pulling him out of his reverie.

Edie turns to him and blinks, fighting the cotton around his brain.

"Fine?" he offers. "She's not as old as I expected," he admits bluntly. His uncle snorts.

"What, just because she lives alone with her cats you assumed she's on her deathbed?"

Eddie winces. It's exactly what he did.

"Well, the people in her life weren't kind to her, so now she relies on her pets. Nothing wrong with that." Wayne shrugs.

"What do you mean?" Eddie frowns, curious. Concerned. He goes to the kitchen, not wanting to seem too eager to get an answer, and grabs a beer for himself and his uncle. He opens the junk drawer to find an opener and hears his uncle answer from the adjacent living room space.

"She doesn't say much about it and I never asked, but she's always alone on the holidays. Her friends visit a few days before or after."

Eddie walks back in and hands his uncle the opened bottle.

"Thanks, son."

He nods and settles heavily in an armchair. Focusing his gaze on the label peeling off of his beer, he hums thoughtfully.

"No family?"

"Seems so." Wayne nods solemnly. "I think it was a conflict of lifestyle choices, but I'll be honest, I'm basing it off of rumors and my own assumptions." He scratches his cheek, frowning at the wall. "It's not my place to pry, though I offered to hear her out if she ever felt like needing an ear." He sighs. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. Invited her for dinner over Thanksgiving, when you couldn't come. I was surprised she's into basketball," he muses.

Eddie was seeking answers and now was even more confused.

"You invited Miss Stephanie. For a dinner?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. She was alone, I was alone, figured I could at least ask. I'm still surprised she agreed. She declined all my other offers."

"Wow." A teasing smile creeps on his lips against his will. "You've been inviting a lot of women since I moved out?"

"Listen," Wayne takes on his stern voice and it takes all of Eddie's willpower not to cackle. He can see his uncle's mustache twitch. "Stephanie is a lovely lady, but she's way too young for an old man like me. And this old man is too old for romance anyway. Besides—" he cuts himself off like he realized he was saying too much. Which, of course, piques Eddie's curiosity.

"Besides?"

Wayne shrugs.

"I don't think I'd ever be ready for someone like her."

Eddie makes a confused face.

"The fuck does that mean?" he asks, irritated.

"Rumors and speculations, son."

#trying again bc it flopped hard #does tumblr hate the m word or was it something else?#idk anyway heres a repost #steddie #stevie harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #mine #steddie fanfiction #transfem steve harrington #crazy cat lady stevie #Stevierything

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vhaos-chaotic-writing · 2 months ago

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🌌💗💜MOONSTORM'S BACK BOYIE!!🫶🫶 With another request of part 2 of my last request Yandere ALL tfp characters x super shy reader, the same ever reader, the whole thing being an scenario how the Autobots, even Ratchet, come back from an mission to find thare beloved SUPER innocent🥺 reader upset, sad or happy with Jack, Miko and Raf trying to chear tham up?💜💗🌌😘

MOON IS BACK!!! \(@^0^@)/

(TFP) Yandere!Autobots w/ Shy Cybertronian!Reader Pt. 2 - "The sun to my sunflower"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Cliffjumper ain't here - boy is dead af. Reader has PTSD and has an anxiety attack.

Every day, like clockwork, sunflowers wake up and bend toward the sun, following its path from east to west - no matter how soft or harsh the sun is feeling that day, the always follow it until it sets.

Their optics always follow you, loving everything about you - it brings them peace in the middle of the war. They love to see you interacting with, well, anything! They love the way you express, talk, think - and while they would rather have you happy all the time, your negative emotions always remind them the reason why they love you and protect you.

Of course - their favorite emotion to see painted on your faceplate is happiness.

Your soft and lively laugh makes Bumblebee, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus turn their helms, forgetting what they were doing for the sake of burning inside of their memory softwares the sound of your laugh and smile. Finding you laughing as Miko shows you those silly cat videos of them sleeping in funny positions, making funny noises or doing just something with their owners! Your laugh makes their sparks sigh and burn, and it brings them peace. While Ultra Magnus would stand back to keep admiring you, Bee and Wheeljack would get closer and ask you what were you laughing about, loving to hear you explain them with such joy the origin of your present contentment.

A small whine or defeated hum would make Smokescreen and Bulkhead turn their helms in the blink of an optic. To see you frown and with an annoyed expressiong makes their spark shout a 'No! No! Wrong! Sweetspark should not be annoyed!' and make their engines work quickly to fix the problem! The two mechs are quick to ask you what is the problem? Why are you upset? Are you okay? Do you need help? How can they help you? They can't stand not see you happy and pleased! When you express your frustration of having heard Jack is stressed with his studies and haven't thought how to cheer up the teenager after seeing him so down, it broke your spark. Bulkhead and Smokescreen are so relieved that you are okay, making them melt at how you keep the well being of the human children close to your spark.

Oh, but when a soft sob or the beginning of a sparkbreaking wail reaches their audials - every single one of them feels something in their spark twist and wail back. A couple of weeks ago, Raf had got you an amethyst geode since you seemed to find so fascinating the minerals from earth. You were enamoured with it, thanking Raf for nearly a whole week. The team knew how much you cared for that small gift - it brought them happiness and knew how that object brought you some kind of support whenever you were anxious or nervous.

Just when Optimus and Arcee were arriving back from a mission and being welcomed back by Ratchet, the sound of crystal breaking is heard, followed by a desperate inhale. The leader, the medic and the soldier are quick to run to your recharging room and when they enter, the sight breaks their sparks. The geode was now in pieces on the floor, with you kneeling and seemed to be holding a couple of said pieces in your servos - you must had accidentally added to much pressure as you held the mineral against your chestplate to find the comfort in order to control your anxiety attack. Alas, the moment you heard the crack and saw the pieces escaping from your servos, you broke down just as the painful memories of the beginning of the war attacked you. Ratchet and Arcee are quick to reach you, trying to calm you down, holding your servos and let you cry on either chestplate.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" You cry, your helm held against Arcee's chestplate, the fembot hugging you closely as Ratchet holds one of your servos, the medic and the soldier whispering to you supportive words. When Optimus finally moves, the medic and the soldier slowly move away but don't stop touching you until you are in Optimus' hug. The Prime holds you and when you hug him back to sob against his chestplate, Ratchet and Arcee place one of their servos on your backplates. It pains them to see you like this, crying and with tears in your precious optics. They'll end this war so you never cry again.

Like a sunflower, all of them turn their helms towards you, as you are the sun to their universe. The precious, bright and gracious sun.

Shyly asking you if you want to be mutuals... (/ω＼*)……… (/ω•＼*) Vhaos out!

#transformers #transformers x reader #yandere transformers #yandere x reader #tfp x reader #autobots x reader #transformers prime x reader #transformers prime

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thewanderingkaya · 6 months ago

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when gentle meets calloused .

pairing: wriothesley x reader

summary: in which wriothesley wonders what’s so hypnotic about his hands (fluff + teensy bit of angst)

wordcount: 800

a/n: i love wriothesley and i love hands , why not combine the two? but seriously calloused and ruggedised arms and hands have me on the floor, especially if wrio is a boxer and has a backstory. g/n reader , a teeeeeeeny bit of wrio’s backstory , 2nd person (kinda omniscient) , lowercase on purpose , dividers : rookthornsartistry

“did it hurt?” your hands trail over wriothesley's arms, fingers coming to trace the imperfections that littered his forearms. his bandages discarded which allowed you to have a clear view of his arms. strong biceps, he did nothing to stop you, only turning his head sheepishly.

as you lay idly on a small blanket splayed onto the grass, a breeze drifts, tousling yours and wrio’s hair. his eyes met yours as you looked up at him, awaiting his answer.

“well.. of course it did,” his gaze drifted to his hands then back to you, he tagged on, “you get used to it after a while.”

you hummed, your head rested on his shoulder. running you whole palm against his fore arm. you could feel wriothesley heat up, even without looking, you knew he was flushing. dry, his arm felt — not dry like sandpaper, but in a way more.. hardened — a contrast to your soft touch.

wriothesley shivers as you trace a deep scar that hugged along the underside of his forearm, running down from his wrist all the way to the inside of his elbow. your smooth hands were so different compared to his rough and hardened hold, something that, even to this day, wriothesley always seems to be amazed at. you studied the mark, discovering that inside the scars, there seems to always be even more cuts and scrapes near the main body. who knew, something so brute could be so intricate at the same time.

these moments.. where you could study others, every blemish had a story. and with wriothesley, you knew that each scar would have a story, each scar contributed to the man you have come to love today. you treasured it..

while you cherished his imperfections, wriothesley only saw them as such flaws. though he didn’t care if outsiders saw and judged them, he cared dearly about what you think. he tries to pull away every time they catch your attention, afraid something might spark and your feelings may suddenly change about him, or worse, you’d be afraid of him. wriothesley wasn’t prepared to take that risk.

“it’s not something i’m proud of either..” he breathes, just barely — though you caught his utterance. looking away as his hand relaxes in your touch.

“i think all your scars perfect.” you sighed, your palm slid into his, “after all~ they are what made the most handsome and strong man i love today” you smiled cheekily up at him.

your comment made wriothesley crack a smile, along with a deep chuckle. you heaved yourself on top of him, his arms coming up to your waist to stabilise you. despite his cryo vision, he always had warmth emulating from him. like your own personal heater.

“is that so?” he ran his hand through his hair in a mock flourish. “maybe i should show it off in public more often—“

“now hold on, mister,” you pressed a finger to his lips, wriothesley glanced down at you, “i don’t want anyone stealing my husband now.”

“I—“

“but alas—“ you cut him off, straightening your posture but still perched on his stomach. placing a hand on your chest, as if preaching your own monologue in mock rejection “I guess i can’t have everything to myself.. even the duke of meropide himself.”

you got up to make a dramatic exit, still playfully in character. a hand grabbed yours, yanking you back down before you could get any further. planting a kiss sweet on your lips; your facade dissolving as you melted into his hold.

there was no doubt you were a fan of wriothesley’s kisses, they were gentle but firm. your hand flew up to his hair, the only thing separating you two was the need for air. leaving you flushed a bright crimson and him a satisfied smirk, you tried to turn away, but being straddled in wriothesley’s lap didn’t really do any good to hide from him.

a warm hand brought you back face to face, he chuckled. “woah now, no need to be so jealous. i’m not going anywhere.”

“what? i not jealous!” you sputtered out — though it came out mixed with a nervous laugh — shrugging your shoulders.

“no, no it’s okay,” wriothesley let out a sigh mixed with a snort, you caught a scent of earl grey tea, bringing you back to that cup you had shared before he suggested you both leave for a short while to enjoy one moment of sunlight. of course it was only meant to be a brief outing to relax, only at a shore just beside the fortress of meropide.

wriothesley seemed to be in no rush, so were you. even if duty calls — even in that dark and cold fortress with little to no fresh air — you still treasured even the briefest of breaks you had with wrio, and delayed getting back anytime soon.

a nonchalant voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“you should know,” he flashed you a corny smirk, rough fingers intertwined with yours, “this duke is all yours.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #kayas.writing #i love wriothesley #first post!!!11!!1\

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oveliagirlhaditright · 1 year ago

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So, the Walt Disney (company) 100th anniversary special that was on TV last night was really good. Oh my gosh.

#my only complaint is i wish they had talked about kingdom hearts. i mean: of course they wouldn't have right?#but they literally talked about EVERYTHING in this thing (some of it even feeling a little random) so i feel like they could have put it #in here and it would have fit nicely. like they were even saying how they felt marvel stories. in some way. were the opposite of what you'd #expect from disney in some respects but kh is SO disney. like they could have told the elevator story and it would have been so cute!#and. i mean. gaming is a billion dollar industry. and kh is a well-loved triple a game that's made them a lot of money. but alas #also i feel like disney on ice weirdly didn't get a lot of love. they only showed one shot of it #maybe they could have put more of it in the section about the disney musicals?#but other than that this was a++ stuff #i know some might argue that kh isn't really disney--it's of course more square enix--so of course they wouldn't mention it #but neither is marvel lucas films avatar or fox and they talked about those things #they also didn't talk about indiana jones when they mentioned lucas films but somehow i was expecting that #and the only fox thing they mentioned was the simpsons #i'm also surprised they didn't mention doctor who. because don't they own that now too? or am i mistaken?#and i'm rambling now. anyway...#but there was so much about this that i loved (all of it). like all the things they thought to cover #seeing walt's whole story was so cool #and i like that they covered the theme parks and the musical #and all the disney channel stuff #and the music in disney #and a ton of stuff i'm probably forgetting now #oh! and the pirates of the caribbean ride!

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writteninlunarlight-years · 6 months ago

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I know that sinners canonically cant have kids but I don't care atm cause I got baby fever REAL BAD. So lets just... pretend that fact doesn't exist for this ask haha. Can you do headcannons for how Adam, Lucifer, Alastor, and Husk would react to finding out their s/o is pregnant?

Adam

You were terrified to tell him at first about the pregnancy. Being the first man and all is hard, but being the first man's angelic kid now may be more challenging.

Not to mention, Adam didn't give off fatherly vibes; he was more like a daddy in the sheets vibe. However, what sealed the deal for you that maybe he could be a father was how he treated Emily.

When you finally confessed, Adam was the happiest man alive. He doted on you hand and foot. He wanted you to have the smoothest pregnancy, and after seeing Eve do it a bajillion times, he had a good idea.

He loved holding your belly for you. Do you want 5 extra minutes of breathing room? Sure, he got you. Do you want to sleep on your side? He is right there.

When you finally pop, he is there the whole time, coaching you through the experience. He holds your hand and lets you call him every name in the book with no sarcastic remarks.

After you hold your baby first, he is eager to be the second. As he holds your bundle of joy, he is a broken, happy man. He will do everything to protect your child and you. He would still be the same old Adam, but with his lover and child, he is a big old softie.

Lucifer

He openly talked about another child, often even getting Charlie to join in. He wanted to have a family with you so badly, and even when you told him no, Charlie was enough, he still tried.

You were the one that was the most afraid just because your body was changing and that can be scary. However, Lucifer loved every second of your changing body. He would even show you what size the baby was each month.

He was about following the best routines and processes to have a child. So he kept you on a regimen; however, our man here was not afraid to let you cheat a few times to curb those cravings the baby was making.

He warned you how big Charlie was and offered that maybe a C-Section would be better, but both agreed whatever the doctors and midwives say you'll do. So long as you lived, he was happy and content.

When you finally had the baby, Lucifer fainted approximately 4 times. No one fully knew why, but he did get found all 4 times by various staff at the hospital.

Once he got to hold the baby, he was a tearful mess. Honestly, until your child was about 6 or 7, he would cry holding them. He is a fantastic dad who cherishes all the time he gets with you and your now two kids.

Alastor

The man was in denial for a very long time. He was convinced he never needed children, that he wouldn't be like his father and would become a corrupt powerhouse.

Yet when you ashamedly asked one day what he would say if you were pregnant, he was a blushing mess. You, his little lover, full and round with his offspring.

When he realized you asked cause you actually were, he was terrified and elated. He went to Rosie first to learn all he could to help you.

He was far more affectionate and possessive over you, the animal instincts kicking in. He wanted to ensure you were safe and well taken care of so you could make him a fine, healthy baby.

When you finally went Into labor, his nerves were overwhelming you, so he had to sit outside. As soon as the doctors came out, he was rushing into your room to see you.

Once it was his turn to hold the baby, he genuinely cried and smiled with the child. Soft coos and smooth jazz played as he rocked the baby. He was so excited to make a little psycho prodigy.

Husk

He never wanted kids. Saw them as an annoying excuse to give up on life. He wanted money, power, and fame. That was till his soul was taken. Then he didn't want kids cause fuck Alastor.

However, you came into his life, and things just changed perfectly. These urges to domesticate and have a soft life with you. Even with Alastor looming around, he wanted to have a little family.

He feared what Alastor would do or say when you showed him the test. Yet he was happy to know you wanted to go on this journey with him.

He was supported by most of the hotel and was able to get you a whole nursery set up so that you two could easily care for the baby while still maintaining your duties at the hotel.

When you finally popped, he wasn't expecting multiple babies. I mean, yeah, your stomach was big, but three kids at once. He was a little shell-shocked, to say the least. Cats always have a big litter.

He was a soft and caring father. He would never drink while the kids were awake and made sure you didn't do all the work alone. He loved being the one to calm their worries with sweet words and gentle touch.

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whorekneecentral · 1 year ago

Text

A Sandy Christmas

Sugar Daddy!Jenson Button x Fem!Reader

Warnings: the iconic sugar daddy JB, college aged reader (over 20), expensive vacations, gift giving is his love language, you're both soooo all up on each other, the use of daddy both in a sexual and non sexual context, thanking him in good way ;), oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, some old man teasing at the end.

Word Count: 1,714

Author's Note: this is for my og jenson girlies that were here from the start, dedicated to the anon that sent in the first sd!jb ask cause you started all of this pookie!!

merry smutmas series

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning.

Exam season is killing you, mentally and physically.

Every bone in your body hurt from being hunched over at your desk for 18 hours a day and your brain felt like it was going to explode if you kept it up for much longer.

Jenson knew as much and he also knew your exam schedule; he couldn't bear to see his girl like that so he did the one thing he did best.

He whisked you away the moment your final exam was over. He knew it'd be a welcomed distraction given that you'd be returning home for the new years; your obnoxious sister was getting married to her high school sweetheart - you'd rather fall down the stairs than attend the wedding but Jenson promised to take you in to trade your car for a new one if you went.

To be fair, he did just get you the car 2 years ago but he figured he needed some sort of reward to get you to go. If he could join you at the wedding, he would but alas he can't.

Sunny Bora Bora was a welcomed distraction; the sunshine, the beaches, the endless cocktails and cock, were keeping you happy.

The first few days were you and Jenson rolling around in bed, lazing and eating whenever, barely getting dressed and spending sun up to sun down on the beach. You had everything you needed right there.

Despite it just being you and Jenson, he rented a whole villa. All the privacy in the world for you two; it was more so, so he could fuck you anywhere he liked but I digress.

Christmas morning and you're woken not by the sunshine but the feeling of Jenson's stubble on your neck.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."

You hum, a hand on his jaw. "Merry Christmas, Jense."

"C'mon, I have something to show you." He whispers in your ear, not giving you a moment to gather yourself. Instead he pulls you out of bed, his hand in yours as you sleepily follow him though the villa.

There's a massive Christmas tree by the windows, right in the middle but that was there when you arrived. What wasn't there before were all the gifts surrounding the tree.

"Jenson," you stop, looking at him. There's a grin on his face. "You didn't."

"I couldn't let Christmas pass without giving you a gift." He smiles, kissing your temple as he sits on the couch.

"We agreed that this trip was my Christmas gift."

"But the trip is for me too, so it can't count. Loophole baby," he raises his eyebrows, almost as high as his ego. You huff, "this is more than a gift, Jenson."

"You're a good girl, I'd buy you the world if I could." He tells you, smiling as you kiss him.

"I don't need the world, Jenson." You tell him, sitting in front of the tree. There are at least 20 bags and boxes neatly wrapped and set under the tree.

"I'd still buy it for you, princess." He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee as you unwrapped your gifts one by one; Gucci, Prada, Van Clef, Louis Vuitton - you name it, it was under the tree.

You had no idea how you'd get it all back home.

You thank him, doing a little try on haul as you unwrap the gifts. Jenson smiles, sitting comfortable as he watches you model your gifts for him.

"Happy?" He asks, patting his thigh. You sit yourself on his lap, an arm over his shoulder as you lean into him.

"Beyond happy," you whispered against his lips. "Thank you daddy."

"Anything for you, baby."

The two of you go about your day, you'll be leaving your little paradise tomorrow and returning to reality so you were trying to soak up the last of the sunshine. Lazing by the water, you watched as Jenson attempted to surf, gave up and decided on a swim instead, the man came back to kiss you, dripping the sea water all over you.

You push him away, giggling as he tries to grab at you. You rolled away, getting up and running from him; Jenson chased you down the beach right back to the villa.

Jenson planned dinner for the two of you, a little restaurant not too far from your villa. You wined and dined, chatting about his work and your plans not to strangle your sister with her veil. He assured you that you'd be fine and that as soon as the wedding was over, you could return home to him.

Upon returning, you decide to pack. This way you two could spend more time in bed in the morning rather than having to rush and pack then.

Jenson's back is to you as you bring in the last of your presents from the living room. He'd manage to fold what you had brought with you into the one suitcase opposed to the two it was in originally and had been trying to fix your gifts into the empty one.

He feels your arm wrap around his waist, fingers drumming against his midriff as you watch him put the boxes into the suitcase.

You're on your tiptoes, a kiss pressed to his jaw; Jenson thinks it's innocent enough and yet, he feels your lips drop lower. From his jaw to his neck and your fingers are pulling at his shirt collar, trying to expose more skin.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, swatting away your wandering hands. "We need to pack."

"Mhm hm," you turn him to face you, your hand on his jaw when you kiss him. Jenson leans on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him

He was easy like that, a kiss from you and he's like putty in your hands.

He watches as your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, sliding under the hem of it. Jenson takes that as his hint to take it off, tossing it on the floor somewhere. Your hand wanders further down, brushing over the cold metal of his belt.

Jenson smiles, pecking your lips softly. "Let me thank you," you whispered against his lips. His brows furrow, "what for?"

"Everything," you tell him, sinking down onto your knees in front of him.

Jenson undoes his belt and the button, “open.”

Without hesitation, your mouth opens and you’re looking up at him once again. He slaps your tongue with his cock softly, waiting for a reaction. The slight curve of your lips was enough for him to know it was okay. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling and pushing you, setting the pace.

The stifled gag was enough for him to pull back, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes fixed on you as your lips wrap around his cock, his chest dropping and raising with each breath.

He can’t help but notice the lipstick on the base of his cock, your head bobbing up and down. Jenson's hand pulls your hair away from your face, letting you set the pace.

His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? My good girl.”

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster. Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Jenson's hips buck, your nose brushing against him.

His head falls back against the couch, breathing out a string of explicits as you hollow your cheeks. “C’mere.” He pulls you off him slowly, savouring the feeling of your tongue sliding up the underside of his cock.

You kiss him, the moan slipping from your lips as he manhandles you.

“Turn around,” he whispers against your lips, a hand on your hip as he turns you around to face the bed.

Your arms are propped on the mattress, holding yourself up. He pushes your dress up, bunching over your hips. His hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward.

Panties pushed to the side and Jenson reached forward, a hand tangled in your hair to pull you up, forcing you to look at the reflection in the window. His other hand holds your hip once he pushes into you.

“See,” he mumbles to himself, glancing down between the two of you before his eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Look how pretty you are,” he whispers, kissing along the back of your shoulder as his hips dig into your ass.

The knot in your stomach tightens when his hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. The feeling of his fingers pulls your attention.

"Please daddy-" you're cut off by a moan and by Jenson pushing you down onto the bed.

You prop yourself up on your forearms once again, eyes fixed on anything but what he was doing.

He could feel you clenching around him, pushing back into him for more.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, I know.” He tells you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

The two of you in sync, Jenson's chest pressed to your back as you came down from your orgasm. He peppered kisses all over your back, rubbing your side softly. He leans to press a kiss to your neck before pulling out slowly.

You can feel Jenson wiping your thighs and between your legs, cleaning you up before fixing your dress. You're still facedown in the mattress, too fucked out to even think about moving at the moment. He senses as much, giving you a push by the ass and up onto the bed you went.

The clink of his belt comes from behind you, the man fixing his pants - you assumed he'd be joining you in bed but instead, you heard some sort of shuffling behind you.

Rolling you, you see that Jenson had resumed his packing from before.

"You know," you start, sitting up. "Most men your age are dead to the world after a fuck like that."

Jenson laughs, walking over to you. His hand cups your jaw, "I'm not like most guys my age."

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