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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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Freelance Inventor Part 2

Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)

"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.

The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .

It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.

It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.

"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.

Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."

Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.

This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.

Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.

He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.

For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.

It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.

"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.

Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.

Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."

Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."

"Yes, Danny"

Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.

"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.

"You don't speak Romani."

"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"

"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.

Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.

Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.

______________________________________________

"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.

Anxious.

It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.

Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.

"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.

Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.

He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.

Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.

Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"

"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.

Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.

"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.

Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.

Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.

Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.

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

"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.

It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.

His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.

He hadn't meant to.

He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.

Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.

He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.

It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.

Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.

Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.

This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.

He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.

Only heard, he was not enough.

So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.

He just needed to respect it.

"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."

Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"

"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."

After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."

He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.

Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.

"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."

"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."

Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.

"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"

"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.

The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.

"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.

Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"

The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.

But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.

Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.

Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.

(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)

No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.

His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?

Bruce being Batman?!

Please.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #freelance inventor #part 2 #spirit halloween #Danny being a dad for the three first robins #Bruce not understanding emotions #And the kids not understanding their own emotions #Jazz trained her brother well #Fenton's are crazy and Super smart #They are aware of Danny's Not-Boyfriend and his kids #They love them

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writersdrug · 7 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3

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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it

A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.

Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.

You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.

You decided to phone a friend.

"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.

"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."

"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."

You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."

"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"

"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."

"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"

You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."

"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."

You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"

"You know it! Nina's coming too."

You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."

"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."

"She'd better be. Love you!"

The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...

Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.

"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.

She sighed and looked away.

Maybe it was time for a walk.

"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.

"Fancy a walk?" You asked.

She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."

On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.

"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.

You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"

She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.

Oh, right. Military dog.

"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.

For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?

You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.

Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.

"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"

She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.

"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"

She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"

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

Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.

Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?

He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.

"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.

"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.

"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"

Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."

"Who'd ye get?"

"What's it to you?"

"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"

"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.

He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.

But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?

Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.

...

Fuck.

He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...

He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.

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monzamash · 8 months

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off the record — lando norris

"the line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it." lando norris x you (femreader) | 2.1k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) masterlist

The media pen was mayhem after what had been an eventful morning on track. Cameras hoisted every which way, journalists vying for their chance to get front row. And then there was you; little old you trying your best to muscle into every nook and cranny available, wrestling with the big boys and girls. You were a bit of a hot shot now, rising through the ranks online as a media personality and bringing it to the stalwarts of mainstream media.

And you were good – really good. An exceptional storyteller and an extractor of sorts when it came to getting the scoop, something you had honed in on during your days working freelance before eventually realising your potential. Somehow, you’d made it here. Reporting for Sky Sports. Coming to you live from Monaco. Dream shit.

“Lando Norris…” You started, microphone locked and loaded in front of the sweaty, nonchalant McLaren driver.

“Felt like you left a little bit out on track in practice this morning. P10 – where do you think you can get the car in qualifying this afternoon?”

“P1 obviously,” Lando quipped, chewing through his comically large drinking straw in an attempt to hide his smirk. Mocking.

“Yeah?”

“What do you reckon?” He asked, leaning forward ever so slightly with a mischievous glint in his eye that had you rolling yours.

You shrugged, “Wouldn’t count the McLaren car out, that’s for sure.”

“The car and…” Lando smirk widened, lips still pursed and baiting.

“The driver too? Maybe?” Dickhead.

“Maybe that too…” You gave in with a sigh, eliciting a wide smile from the man standing in front of a gaggle of reporters, waiting for your next question with snickering expressions.

“So high expectations going into quali then?”

It had always been like this with Lando from the moment you stuck your little hand held recorder in his face at Bahrain last year to now. He knew he could wind you up and find levity in whatever situation he found himself in at the end of a session – good or bad. It was always a friendly back and forth between journalist and driver. Harmless banter to make the monotony of the media pen just that little bit more bearable. Professional, until it wasn’t.

“The flirting is getting out of hand,” You whispered into his kiss, teeth clashing, hands fumbling as you fell back on your hotel bed with a huff.

“But you look so fucking cute asking me questions like that,” He growled in retort, hands making quick work of the jeans clinging to your hips – the ones that had been taunting him all day.

Everywhere he turned he saw you swaying from side to side, aching to have this moment with you now.

“Well duh,” You quipped confidently, eyes fluttering shut as his feverish lips ghosted above the damp patch of excitement between your thighs. Focus.

“But it has to stop.”

“Oh you want me to stop right now?”

“I’m not talking about…” You stopped mid-sentence when you caught the mischievous glimmer in Lando’s eyes, lips pulled into a smirk, “Okay, fuck you.”

“You love it,” He breathed out in barely a whisper, leaving a trail of marks down the inside of your thigh before finally giving you what you were waiting for.

“And don’t pretend like the thought of me going down on you when you’re asking me those silly little questions doesn’t turn you on.”

Well he fucking had you there.

Lando punctuated his point with a long, teasing stripe to your cunt before burying himself between your thighs, only coming up for air when you tugged on his curls and demanded a kiss. He knew how you were, how needy and insatiable you could be. This was a thing now; a god forsaken mistake in Australia that had turned into a runaway train. Neither of you could stop it.

“I can’t live without this.”

The desperation spilled from your mouth in a guttural moan as you titled you hips upwards and let the twisted knots in the depths of your stomach unravel. The sight of you thrashing in pleasure below knocked the wind out of Lando, eyes and mind focused solely on fucking you through your high so perfectly, fingers bruising the buttery flesh of your thighs.

“God – fuck…” He could barely breathe, “Don’t – you don’t have to.”

And with one last pump, he was coming into the condom he’d slipped on without you even knowing. It was second-hand now, muscle memory and so fucking good. But it didn’t start that way – no, it was awkward goodbyes and a cold ‘thanks for that’ which made you regret ever answering your hotel door. The situation had changed in the blink of an eye – now he was lingering, kissing you in places that had you melting into the mussed sheets and begging him to stay a little bit longer.

It was pathetic how reliant you’d become and how distant you could be when he had to leave. The leaving part was the thing that changed and had you questioning all of it. It used to be that you could go shower and come back to an empty bed and not even flinch. Four months of he is just a causal fuck, no hard feelings to now not being so stoic on that sentiment but you wouldn’t admit that. Not to yourself and especially not to the man peering down at you – all lazy smiles and dimples and ocean eyes. You were fucked.

“I gotta go,” Lando whispered, brushing the stray strands of hair from your flushed face, pout present and needy.

“You don’t really though.”

“If I don’t go now I’ll never leave.”

The little voice in your head was monologuing – screaming out all of the reasons why he should stay because maybe deep down that’s what you wanted. But you couldn’t have that. The line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it. It was the devil on your shoulder that tormented you when it came to Lando, pushing the boundaries more and more every time you had him in your clutches. Risking it all.

“Kiss me before you go.”

And he did. Passionately, like a man in love because maybe he was. Maybe he had been for a lot longer than he’d realised – somewhere between Miami and now he let his guard down too far, too soon. You were flawless though, unattainably perfect that he couldn’t be blamed for falling victim to your allure – sharp eyes following you around the paddock, wishing he was the little notebook in your back pocket that garnered all your attention on race weekends.

“See you tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky,” Lando quipped, knowing he would be the one curled up in his cold, lonely bed for the rest of the night waiting impatiently for tomorrow.

In any other circumstance you would think the two of you were like magnets, drawn together amongst the travelling circus that was your workplace. But you had a job to do and that was to seek out drivers and team principals, digging deep for any story you could find. There was a trust that you’d built with the teams, all of them respected your work and knew that you weren’t malicious; in fact you were the opposite.

“I really appreciate you not writing about my drunkenness last weekend… It wasn’t my finest moment unfortunately.”

Oscar was a rookie driver but also a total sweetheart, who admittedly had found himself in a precarious late night adventure in a Miami nightclub post-grand prix. How he ended up that drunk, you had no idea but you saved him from himself with the help of Lando, who Oscar would’ve thought was suspiciously close by if he wasn’t black out drunk.

“I got you, buddy but I think your Australian citizenship might have to be revoked after an effort like that… Very disappointing,” You teased in jest, both smiling into the blistering Monacan sun as you walked side by side into the paddock.

“I woke up with an L on my forehead which I can only assume Lando put there so I think my ego’s bruised enough thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah,” You cringed, “That might’ve been my eyeliner.”

“Is that right…”

Oscar’s tone was laced with suspicion but before he could quiz you on why you were still there that night and that he had started to notice the budding friendship between you and his teammate, he was being whisked away by one of his McLaren publicists. You were thankful that they'd taken his curious questions away – how the tables had turned.

Lando was watching you wander through the paddock behind his dark sunglasses, as had been the trend all weekend. Every time you glanced around he was there, wondering if he could sneak over and say hello. Sure, you were friends with a few of the drivers outside of work but when you stepped over that white line, the barriers of professionalism came up again. They had to, otherwise you would end up in a situation like this – gawking at someone you shouldn’t be.

But god he looked good.

He wore what he knew was your biggest weakness – a backwards cap and the black denim jacket he slung over your shoulders on that dark, stormy night in London a few weeks ago when Imola was cancelled and you needed a fix. Hotel hook-ups only. And all of this had you asking yourself, how on earth could you deny a good morning from the man who was the subject of your every desire?

“Good morning.”

“Well it’s not a bad one,” You smiled, more energised than Lando who was yawning into the crook of his arm, “Late night?”

He loved it when you did that. Sneaking little inside jokes into seemingly innocent conversation, naughty reminders of the nights you shared together when nobody was watching. The cheeky grin tugging on his lips a definite tell-tale that he enjoyed it – the tells getting easier and easier to spot the more you got to know him. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought that maybe he was into this as much as you. Little did you know.

“Yeah just squeezed in a late cardio sesh – you know how it is…”

A soft ahh slipped from your smirking lips, eyes trained on your path ahead as Lando strolled alongside, “What’s on the agenda today?”

You shrugged, half out of genuine cluelessness and the other half deflecting how nervous you were. Working in the media was your dream but walking through the hallowed halls of a sport you had loved for your entire life and that dream coming true made your stomach churn with every emotion under the sun. Especially in Monaco.

“You nervous?” Lando asked quietly, shaking you from your thoughts and panicked that you were talking out loud.

“Huh? Oh…” You waved him off and chuckled, “No – I mean, yeah but I always feel like this on race morning… But obviously you’re probably a lot more nervous than me so it’s nothing…” You were a stuttering mess and all Lando wanted to do was reach out and give you a hug.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. This was your little secret, a delicious secret that only the two of you knew and he didn’t want to ruin that. Instead, he dug his hands into his jean pockets a little deeper and gave you a reassuring nudge. Shoulder to shoulder, the same way you laid together the night before after what could only be described as the best sex of your life. Lives.

“My mum always said that nerves mean you care,” Lando’s voice was lower than before – a seriousness taking over, “You’ll do great, as always.”

“Thank you,” You matched his tone, “Hopefully I’m interviewing Lando Norris, Monaco Grand Prix winner…”

That’s all you really wanted deep down. Not the breaking story of the weekend or the drama surrounding contract talks at Red Bull. Just for the guy you had grown profoundly fond of to have some semblance of good luck for once. He’d worked hard for it, you’d seen it first hand and you’d seen the heartbreak when things weren’t going his way. Alas, that was what started this whole situation – frustrated post-race sex. Chef’s kiss.

Lando simply rolled his eyes and sighed loudly before leaning in a tiny bit closer than what you considered a safe workplace distance, “Kiss for good luck then?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” You laughed, kicking his calf with your platform boot as his infectious cackle of a laugh echoed through the growing crowd.

You watched him disappear somewhere between the motorhomes, searching for his team. The lingering feeling in your stomach made you slightly nauseous and a little excited for the next run-in with him. It was like a game of cat and mouse and you weren’t sure who was who but you liked it. More than you wanted to admit because he was Lando fucking Norris – f1's most eligible bachelor, the naughty boy from Bristol, all curls and dimples and undeniable charm. You couldn't help but wonder how many others he had wrapped around his finger like you.

He's just a casual fuck, you mumbled under your breath as you flicked open your notebook and got to work.

masterlist | askbox

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #monzamashmasterlist #lando norris x reader #formula 1 imagine #off the record fic #off the record series

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lionheartedmusings · 1 month

Text

hi everyone! i talked about my new "dream job" very briefly a few times, but turns out you really shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. i debated not saying anything multiple times, and frankly perhaps i should've kept quiet, but i refuse to let this situation eat me up and i feel like the community also deserves some transparency on some things that realistically, you'll never get unless people speak up. i want to preface this by stating very, very clearly that everyone that i met in the studio on a personal level is incredibly talented, passionate, and kind. all of them deserve much, much better than the way they get treated. i applied to be a writer for quackity studios / qsmp and got an email back on the 18th of january. i interviewed for the position on the 23rd of january, and entered trial period on the 28th after signing an "nda".

early during trial period, i asked one of my supervisors about payment and was told they weren't responsible for that and didn't know, but would get back to me as soon as they knew which never ended up happening (i do not blame them at all, they’re incredibly busy people). i should've pressed further, but as someone in a very, very sensitive financial situation and someone who loves the qsmp and admires the talent of everyone who poured their heart and soul into the project, i chose to wait and expect the best. i was officially welcomed into the studio on the 10th of february, and while i waited to be contacted regarding a contract or payment, i had to once again ask (even after i was already working) about payment. i was redirected to "the" head admin as it was him who handled payment, and had to wait days for him to log on so i could add him as a discord friend and ask about my salary. during that conversation, which took almost a week from start to finish, i was asked multiple times if i'd worked professionally as a writer or freelancer (to which the answer was no) before finally being offered between 200-250 dollars (which i later found out shakes out to 170€) per month. i had to ask how i was being paid, and of my own accord provide him with my paypal email in hopes of a response as he never made it clear to whom i should send it. i was incredibly lucky compared to so many members of that team, because i did get paid for my work over that month, even if it felt like i had to beg for compensation that had been promised to me before. it was an awful salary, but i was desperate and so excited to be a part of the team that i accepted the conditions. after léa's tweets, the response "jay" posted, and quackity's emergency stream, i heard once from a supervisor that things were on hold but we'd be informed of any changes. to this day, there has not been any communication either publicly on the discord server or privately, even though i asked a supervisor privately for any possible updates on anything. there's been absolute radio silence. i want to add that i do not in any way blame my supervisors for any of their lack of communication, as they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me and i imagine they'd say something if they could. i have nothing but the utmost respect for them. a few days ago (and i apologize for not being precise with the date but i wasn't checking these things closely as i had no reason to) i noticed that my access to just about everything on the server apart from the announcement channel had been removed, and the only role i retained was the main "writer" one. upon checking, the other writers on the team still retain all of their previous roles. for some reason i do not know nor understand, my access got removed without any sort of word, communication, dm, anything. anything i've ever learnt about this situation, i learnt in the middle of the night live on twitch.tv while i waited to see if i still had a job or not. the only reason i can find for my access being removed and not the other writers is the fact that i'm friends with pomme's admin. i do not know if that is why, it's merely my own speculation, but it's the only link i can see that would lead to that decision. i hope i'm wrong, but hope hasn't gotten me very far in this yet. yesterday, i quit.

i only applied in the first place because i love the qsmp. i love this community, i love this project, and i genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to help build it as well as be able to in some way support myself while being creative. i'm not making this post because i hate quackity and want to see anything burn — i'm just exhausted, and stressed, and losing sleep over a business that ultimately does not care for the people that made it a reality. i could not in good conscience not say something, because while i was very lucky that my time there was short and while i made friends there that i believe i will take with me for the rest of my life, i've never been someone who can sit and watch others be mistreated so blatantly and just ignore it. i honestly and sincerely hope that moving forward, things change, but after what i've seen i have very little hope left in me. this isn't just about the exploitation of people, or just about not providing people with payment for their work — it's about treating other human beings who are killing themselves and working themselves to the bone with the very minimum of care and respect. it's about people who made the qsmp what it is being discarded and disrespected constantly, and who live in fear and anxiety. these people deserve to be treated well, and that lack of respect hasn't changed regardless of any "announcements" made. my heart and full and complete support goes out to everyone who is dealing with these very unfortunate circumstances and treatment (my dms are always open if you ever want to reach out), to léa for being so incredibly brave and putting herself in the line of fire for the tens of people still in the studio, to all the actors and the twitter teams for the absolute silence they've received as payment for their hard work over almost a year, and to pomme's admin who despite what's going around on twitter has not received any contact from anyone in the studio yet, and deserves so so much better.

it’s my most sincere hope that qsmp thrives and conditions change, because everyone there deserves that. everyone there deserves to be treated like gold because they’re some of the best people i’ve ever met. i wish it didn’t feel like we have to put ourselves in the line of fire publicly for any sort of response because clearly staying silent hasn’t helped anything.

please, support the people who spoke out and support the people still in the project. they're the ones who made the qsmp the qsmp. they're the ones you should be standing with first and foremost.

#qsmp #qadmins #i'm so sorry guys but i personally don't feel comfortable tagging this with like discourse or neg #but <3 i will not be offended / upset if you use those tags if you talk about this #aaaaaaaaa

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thef1diary · 2 months

Text

Little Big Fan | Five

- Little Big Surprise

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.3k

The house felt too empty, too quiet.

Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.

A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.

You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.

You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.

This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.

Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.

Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.

Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.

You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.

You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.

But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.

You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.

Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.

"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.

"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.

"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I mean—" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"

You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.

"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.

You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.

You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.

"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.

"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"

You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"

"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"

"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.

"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."

Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.

"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."

He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.

You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.

"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.

Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."

You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."

Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.

Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"

"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.

"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.

Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."

You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."

"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and fries—made with freshly cut potatoes—because that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."

"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"

There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.

"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."

You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.

You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.

Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.

"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.

Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.

The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.

However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.

He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.

You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.

Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.

You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.

Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.

Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.

Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"

He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.

"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."

"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.

"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.

"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.

You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.

Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.

You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.

"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.

"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.

"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."

"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.

However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.

"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."

You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"

He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."

"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"

"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.

"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."

"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."

Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.

"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"

"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."

"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.

"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."

He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."

"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"

"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.

"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."

You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.

Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.

When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.

Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.

You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.

"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.

"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."

"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"

Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.

"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.

"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.

"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.

"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"

"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."

"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.

You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she would’ve been beaming about it.

"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"

"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.

"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.

You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.

You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.

But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.

Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy

#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #fluff #f1 fluff

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waywardxrhea · 3 months

Text

Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage.

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend.

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes.

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you...

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod.

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added.

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party.

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in.

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped.

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said.

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show.

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink.

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby.

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made my way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth.

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar.

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile.

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood.

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback.

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms.

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes.

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips.

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed.

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside.

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him.

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily.

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.”

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them.

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss.

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks.

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him.

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him.

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it.

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process.

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again.

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.”

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body.

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?”

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground.

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively.

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up.

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously.

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty.

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come.

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

#bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #bucky barnes #oneshot

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roseykat · 6 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 9

TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you

PAIRING: Seungmin x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.

TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.

KINK: Freelance

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x

There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you.

Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it.

He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them.

The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him.

“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”

“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”

“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff.

“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.”

Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”

“Can’t do that either-“

“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”

Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”

You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being paid to do.”

“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.”

“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him.

“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough.

“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”

“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.”

It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too.

“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face.

“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”

“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back.

“Bingo.”

“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through.

“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.”

Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”

“It’s just me, I swear.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?”

It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.

In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?

So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes.

He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people.

“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class.

You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are.

“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him.

“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”

“Geez, that bad is he?”

“The fucking worst,” you confirm.

However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week.

You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.

“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.

“And if I don’t?”

“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table.

“See, how hard was that?”

You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”

Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”

You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”

“Say it again.”

“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”

“Fucking brat.”

Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.

Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy.

It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on.

“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase.

“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin.

You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act.

“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego.

His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.”

You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt.

His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up.

“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down.

Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear.

“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble.

His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder.

It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.

Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head.

“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers.

Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”

Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just.

Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps.

Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.

He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:

“Are you a virgin?” He asks.

You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”

“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation.

“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.”

“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace.

You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way.

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support.

He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly.

His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear.

“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.”

No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before.

“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back.

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.”

Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.

Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him.

“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”

Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.”

It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat.

“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard.

“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.”

Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!”

With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half.

“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #i.n x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin x reader #changbin x reader #han jisung x reader

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stuckinthesun · 11 months

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How about Leon x reader one where Leon is a lot more experienced than reader and because of that and the whole Ada situation (with her just randomley appearing) she’s been putting off having sex with Leon.. Leon finally catches on and reassures her that she is all he wants and then they gave sex

the end ⭐️⭐️⭐️❤️

Yessss Ada angst is just *chefs kiss*

Ily ⭐️🫶

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, slight angst, p in v, soft dom!Leon, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of aftercare

wc: 2.3k

Leon Masterlist

You and Leon have been dating for a little over a year now, you love this man so much and you know he feels the same about you.

Even so, the two of you still haven’t had sex.

Honestly the two of you have barely done anything other than make out. There were a handful of times where you jacked him off while he rubbed your clit, but other than that, the two of you have done nothing together sexually.

Leon has tried to take the next step before, pull you into his lap while kissing you, rubbing your thighs or slipping his hands under your shirt. You always stopped him though, saying you weren’t ready or that you weren’t in the mood.

He was always a gentleman, saying that it was perfectly fine and that you guys would go at your pace. You were thankful, of course, but it also made you feel guilty.

The truth was, it’s not that you weren’t ready. God did you want that man to fuck you senseless, but you were scared you wouldn’t be good enough. You weren’t very experienced sexually, and you don’t want to sound like one of those girlfriends, but he is.

Leon has been very honest with you about his lack of a stable relationship before you. How he spent years just bed hopping and never settling down, especially with a reoccurring morally grey, red wearing, freelance agent.

So you were scared you wouldn’t be able to live up to his expectations, even though you knew logically that he didn’t have any.

Tonight had been one of these moments, the two of you were making out and Leon pulled you into his lap. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer, letting you feel just how hard he was.

You moaned but instinctively pulled away, feeling that small bit of panic building. Leon’s face instantly softened, but he also looked confused and it made you feel even more guilty than usual.

“Baby,” He started, tone soft, “You know I’m more than willing to wait until you’re comfortable to have sex, and I don’t want you to feel pressured by any means, but is it something I’m doing?”

A different type of panic filled you, “No! Oh my god, Leon no absolutely not! You’re perfect and probably really good at it and just, you’ve probably had sex with women who know exactly how to make you feel good and I’ve barely done anything and-“

Your rambling was cut off by Leon putting his hand over your mouth. You looked at him, not having even realized you were looking at your lap in your panic, and saw his look of confusion had deepened.

“Wait, so the reason you haven’t wanted to have sex is because you don’t think… you’ll be good enough at it for me?” Leon asked, saying the last part like it was painful.

Suddenly embarrassed and with his hand still over your mouth, all you could do was sheepishly nod.

“Oh, honey.” He immediately melted, moving his hand to cup your face and pull you down into a kiss. It was gentle this time and you gripped his t-shirt to ground yourself, your head spinning from the emotional whiplash.

“I love you,” Leon said the moment he pulled away from the kiss, making you smile.

“I love you too.”

“And it doesn’t matter if you’re bad in bed, which I don’t think you will be by the way,” He whispered the last part teasingly, making you blush and giggle, “but even if you are, it’s not a big deal because I love you and I just want to be with you, okay?”

“Leon-“

“Besides,” He cut you off by wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up, causing you to yelp, “I don’t plan on making you do much of the work, anyway.”

You realized Leon was carrying you in the direction of your shared bedroom, making you squirm “Wait what? Leon-“

“Now that I know what the problem is, my love, I can fix it.” He said, walking into the room and gently setting you on the bed.

He knelt down in front of you and rubbed his hands along your thighs soothingly, “Can I show you how much I want you, and just you?”

You stared at him and he stared right back, his face telling you just how serious he was. In that moment for the first time you didn’t feel scared, you felt wanted.

“Yeah.” You nodded and Leon gave you the sweetest smile.

“Thank you baby,” He said, leaning up and kissing you again, just as sweetly as before.

This time when his hand’s started to slip under your shirt and push the fabric up, exposing your skin, you let him. You didn’t flinch or move away, instead you gasped a little into the kiss, causing him to smirk against you.

“So sensitive,” Leon teased, and you whined a little, pouting into the kiss, “It’s cute baby, don’t worry.”

Leon pulled away from you and slipped your shirt over your head, and both of you were glad you weren’t wearing a bra, having already changed into your pajamas.

Although the two of you haven’t had sex before, that doesn’t mean Leon hasn’t seen you naked. He has, multiple times actually, but this is the first time he’s seeing you naked in a sexual manner. Yes you guys have done touched each other in the past, but it was always with the lights off and clothes on. It was never like this, never something so intimate.

So when you brushed your hair out of your eyes and looked down to see Leon just staring at your chest, you immediately felt uncomfortable.

“Don’t stare,” You mumble, crossing your arms to cover yourself.

Leon blinks a few times and literally shakes his head a few times to snap himself out of whatever trance he was under, before looking at you face again with an embarrassed blush, “Sorry, you’re just really beautiful.”

Now you’re the one that’s blushing, you’re eyes widening. Flustered and embarrassed you huff and reach down, tugging at the collar of his shirt, “Your turn.”

“Okay okay, impatient much?” He teased before standing up and tugging his shirt off, tossing it across the room. You stare at his defined torso, sculpted from both the gym and hard work.

“You have no right to call me beautiful when you look like that.” You hadn’t actually meant to say it out loud, thinking you would be met with a teasing laugh. Instead you were flicked in the forehead.

“We really need to work on your confidence.” Leon huffed, looking at you with almost a sad look in his eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows and open your mouth to say something but he’s already gone back to playful, leaning down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and ask, “Now, do you think you can lay back on the bed for me pretty girl?”

You’re eyes widen at the pet name and you’re automatically nodding, making him smile, “Good, come on I’ll help you.”

He does, he gently lays your head against the pillows and presses kisses along your lips, cheeks, neck and collarbone as he does so. The further down his mouth travels the wetter the kisses become, making goosebumps appear on your skin and small moans escape your mouth.

“There you go princess, just relax.” Leon whispers against your stomach as his fingers slip into the waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly slipping them off.

“Fuck baby, already so wet for me.” He groaned and you couldn’t help but squirm a little as he practically peeled your panties away from your cunt.

You looked up when he leaned away from you, fully pulling your shorts and underwear off and tossing them without looking, fully focused on your dripping center. That alone had you rolling your hips against nothing, making Leon spread your legs and scoot further down the bed to settle between them, “I know baby, I know just keep your legs spread for me okay?”

His tongue licked a long wet stripe between your folds before you could even nod. You let out a loud moan, your hands instantly flying down to tangle in his hair. He groaned against you, the vibrations of his voice making you roll your hips against his face.

You’ve only ever had one guy go down on you and already Leon far surpassed him. You’re back arched as he circles your clit with his tongue before sucking on it, rolling it a little between his lips.

“F-fuck Leon.” You babble breathlessly, your head turning into the pillow.

He continues like that for a little longer until he moves lower, his tongue nudging your entrance until it’s inside of you. Almost immediately you feel that familiar coil in your abdomen, making you moan louder and pull at Leon’s hair, “I’m so close fuck please I’m gonna-“

With his tongue inside of you and his nose nudging your clit, while he moans likes he’s the one being pleasured, you cum hard. You’re back arches almost painfully and you pull him closer to you, riding out the best high of your life.

As you come down you have to pull Leon off of you, his tongue still thrusting inside of you, overstimulating you.

“Sorry baby,” He mumbled, and you get the feeling he isn’t actually sorry. You look down at him and his mouth and chin are completely covered in your slick, and it’s by far the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You feeling okay?”

“Please fuck me.” You beg, reaching down to grab his face and yank him up to you, kissing him despite the mess, “Right now,”

“I planned to.” Leon smirked and gave you another quick kiss before standing up and stepping out of his sweatpants. He was already hard and leaking, and your eyes widened at the sight.

“You had me humping the bed like a teenager there baby, you sounded so hot.” He said reaching into his nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom.

When you raised an eyebrow at the little foil packet he just shrugged, “I like to be prepared.”

You watched as he ripped open the little packet and pulled the condom out, rolling onto his cock after giving it a few strokes.

Leon held his length in his hand, slowly sliding the head through your folds, gathering your slick and working you back up. Soon you were rolling your hips with him, the head of his cock massaging your clit.

“Read baby?” He asked, leaning down so your foreheads were touching.

“Yes.” You moaned, nodding against him.

Leon nodded and leaned back again, watching as he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in.

“Fuuuuck,” Leon groaned as he watched the head pop inside. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, fists clutching the sheets tightly.

“Hold on to me baby, I’m right here.” Leon whispered, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he slid in more. “There you go princess, just stay with me.”

Once he was all the way inside he stopped moving, letting you adjust to the new feeling of him being inside of you. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you had sex and the feeling was almost overwhelming.

You took some deep breath’s and tried to keep your body relaxed, trying to remember the pleasure from moments ago and not the pain of right now.

The pillow behind your head crinkles suddenly, and you crack an eye open to see Leon white knuckling it. All at once you’re aware of how much he’s twitching inside of you, how hard he’s breathing and his breathy little moans. He’s trying so hard not to move, and you can’t help but smile.

Maybe you really were worried for nothing.

You tilt your head to the side to whisper in his ear, “You can move.”

“Okay,” He says with a raspy voice and slowly starts to roll his hips, causing both of you to moan.

The rolls of his hips turn into thrusts and soon he has a rhythm, fucking into you with purpose. He almost immediately finds your sweet spot, hitting it every time, making you see stars and claw welts on his back.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good just like I imagined. So perfect, absolutely perfect like this on your back for me moaning my name.”

“L-Leon,” You moan exactly like he said, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer, deeper.

“S-shit baby I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” Leon groans into your neck, fucking into you erratically.

“Me too, fuck I’m gonna-“ You’re second orgasm is ripped from you without warning, making your eye’s roll and your legs shake.

“God!” The feeling of your walls tightening around him pulls Leon right along with you, his hips stuttering as he fills the condom.

He fucks both of you through your orgasms until it becomes too much, and he slowly pulls out of you before flopping down next to you on the bed.

The two of you lay there, panting and boneless, and you try not to think about the gross feeling of your slick drying between your legs.

“Wow.” You mumble, staring at the ceiling.

Leon chuckles, “Yeah, wow.”

You hear what sounds like him pulling off the condom but you’re too exhausted to actually sit up and look.

It’s okay though, because suddenly Leon is leaning next to you, head resting on his arm and and a smile on his face, “So, did that help your worries?”

You turn your head a little too face him and give him a small smile, “Yeah, thank you.”

“Of course, my love.” Leon beamed, leaning down to kiss you, “Now why don’t I run us a bath, hmm?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

This might be my best one yet🤔

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon re4 #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon re2 #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon vendetta #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #leon re6 #leon kennedy x fem reader

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seat-safety-switch · 3 months

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One of my more accomplished friends is an MRI operator. When we first got talking about what we did for a living, I didn't get very interested. Now, don't think I'm some kind of elitist snob. My career (freelance journalist/greasy dirtbag) is a laugh-a-minute thrill ride, where you're as likely to get hunted down by friends of corrupt small government as you are to throw up in the back of a diesel-swapped Geo Metro being used to chase cows back into the paddock. It's set the bar very, very high.

By comparison, MRIs are boring healthcare stuff, meant for taking extremely high-quality pictures of people's junk all day long. Those pictures are then viewed by doctors, who will sneer at those people for not eating enough cauliflower. Just an absolute snore, which although involving a cool machine that's very loud, didn't fascinate me in the least.

That is, until they mentioned The Quench. In case you're unfamiliar, MRI machines operate on the principles of magnetism (that's the "M.") Big-ass magnets are used to send pulses throughout the machine, and those pulses are inconveniently blocked by chunks of your body standing in the way. By recording how irritated those magnets are, we can figure out what's going on inside your shit. Of course, you need big, big magnets for this, you're not running down to the grocery store and diagnosing a brain misfire using that cute little toddler-art-retainer shaped like a frog.

Sometimes, when shit really goes wrong, you need to stop the magnetism in a hurry. Maybe a patient walked in with a fully loaded firearm, and the magnets are now using it to shoot the inside of the machine. Perhaps you just decided that you would like to end your career. Either way, hitting the "quench" button douses those magnets with several hundred thousand dollars' worth of liquid helium, which makes them stop doing magnet-y things and start racking up billable hours for the MRI maintenance guy. This kind of highly expensive mechanical failure is my jam, and I asked immediately where I could get me some of those quenched-up magnets. Surely, they wouldn't reuse anything they've beaten up in this way?

My so-called friend figured out what I was up to, and clammed up almost immediately. Almost. He gave me just enough information for my inquisitive journalistic mind to figure out that they just chuck these big-ass magnets into the dumpster out back of the hospital, and someone with an enterprising enough mindset could then un-chuck them into the back of, say, a U-Haul van with the license plate removed after being careful to avoid all the security cameras along the way. Not that I would do such a thing, especially because it involves driving through a particularly weak chain-link fence near the seniors' centre.

Coincidentally, are you coming to my unveiling of my new magnetic-levitation Volare-launching system this weekend? I promise to listen very intently to whatever bullshit you say about your boring job, you'll love it. The Mayor is gonna be there, cut the ribbon and everything. Shit. Siri, remind me to get plastic scissors for The Mayor.

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sofiaruelle · 7 months

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Aaa tumblr deleted my ask before I was done smh, anyway I was wondering who you think would do better at the ifuudoudou dance/shuffle, ass gang / she trio ?(stardew) i think they’d both give up in the middle from the quick-exhaustion, or how funny it’d probably be to see those sillies knocking each other over.

Aww man the ASS gang would DEMOLISH the SHE trio doing the ifuudoudou shuffle. Something something about being old and their old man knees (Abigail’s words). And in this essay I will explicate my take on the dance battle:

I can imagine the ASS gang would have to teach them how the dance moves first. The SHE trio practices for a bit. Harvey and Shane would definitely have a little with coordination (especially with the double bounce) but they get it down and are actually some what in sync as a group. Since Elliot was able to pick up on the dance moves quicker, he somewhat moves a little faster than the other two. Harvey tends to get flustered in the middle and would flail his arms trying to catch up to Elliot’s tempo thinking he messed up somewhere. Poor Shane would strugggglllleeeee with cardio. He blames the fact that he’s hungover to save face (he’s not, he’s been sober for a while, Elliot and Harvey pick up on this and just teases him)

Meanwhile the ASS gang is much more familiar with the song and dance. (my lil HC: Sebastian is a big fan of vocaloid; though he has yet to tell the rest of the gang what the song is about). For a time it had been a trend amongst them to dance the shuffle around town and filming themselves doing shennanigans. coughtiktokcough Despite being quite familiar with it, Sam struggles to move in the same direction as the others and bouncing on one place. He does quickly recover though!!!! Not his fault Abigail tends to forget to do the double bounce though hahahah. Sebastian has *perfected* the dance catch him practicing in between doing freelance programming.

I have this Idea™️ during the shuffle battle, Elliot realizes the song lyrics is quite scandalous and catches Sebastians eyes and they have a some kind of telepathic conversation which causes Sebastian to get flustered and embarassed at the implication of the lyrics. Elliot just laughs in amusement and nearly falters. Abigail in the middle of egging on the SHE trio notices this and calls out Elliot for the sabotage! Shane, tired of her teasing, tells his buddies to avenge him before collapsing on his ass, completely out of breath. Harvey to check on him but Shane waves him off. Also Sam nearly knocks everyone out trying to match up with the direction his hands should be facing, almost tripping on Shane. 😂 😂 😂

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critterbitter · 3 months

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HELLO HI ID LIKE TO ASK WHAT PROGRAM AND BRUSHES YOU USE CUZ IM LITTERALY EXPLODING EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR ART

actually actually... *pulls out whole stack of paper*...I have. a FEW,, a good few,, questions to ask. they are not many I swear 😇

OK SO FIRST OF ALL HOW DO YOU DRAW SO FAST???? everyday I log onto Tumblr I always see something new from you and I get very very happy. But then I start to question my own existence because not even I CAN SPEED RUN ART LIKE THAT. AND SO SPECTACULARLY TOO

Last question! how do you color and make it look so well?? just. How. I need to know. This is a CRY FOR HE-

anyway thank you for being one of my favorite artists that always feed my brain rot, pls keep making amazing art because like a little yamper I will follow behind and stay updated.

(Stands there)

Response and thoughts under cut!

First question! What art program I use!

Mostly procreate, along with a handful of brushes! (Specifically the Jing Set and some custom stuff, which is really just a circle brush with the shape changed to a square.)

Second question! How do i draw so much!

Okay so. I am. Ahhah. Unemployed,,,,? No, I do freelance illustration, but hmm. A studio job would be nice.

i graduated college last year and I’m very used to eight hour art shifts. The body sort of remembers to keep working, even though I no longer have storyboards or visdev homework to do.

Also. The hyperfixation is a deep vast tunnel I STILL have not seen the end of the light to, good golly. (I have dreams now about the kids committing shenanigan crimes. I wake up in cold sweat and write them down in a journal. It’s like being the mouthpiece to an angry god.)

So the overall gist is: I was trained to be a storyboard artist with a visdev background, and I’m using that higher education to draw funny muppets because my brain’s funny.

I also DO have a queue, and I’ve been treating this as a sort of inktober project. I am definitely going to slow down soon though! Maybe. Hopefully. Ah… (sheepishly drops my kofi here)

Third question! How do i color!

I. I, uh. I dont know man the coloring demons have a grip on my soul and i just go along for the ride. But also, if it helps, i prefer to limit my pallets to only a few colors at a time. Lighting is king, so if you can figure out if you want to focus on either on your lights or shadows, you’ll have a much easier time composing. That, and symbolic colors— idk, something hits different about art drenched in gold with a tiny hint of a man staring into the blinding horizon, or a green leafy environment with a single dot of artificial red. I also like using blue and purple for shadows, and I’m a big fan of muting colors with only one or two that pop— one of the reasons why I was so attracted to submas in the first place is because from a design aesthetic, they’re both super funny muppet men AND really cool train guys that have a limited pallet and thematic apparel.

Overall response! THANK YOU SO MUCH. This goes out to a BUNCH of people who sent me inbox queries— sorry for not responding, it’s a tad overwhelming because some of them are story questions even I don’t really know will go yet, and others are words of praise and I’m selfish and like scrolling through the inbox to look at them when I feel down. I am more of an artist who sits in the corner and sprouts like a potato rather then a branching vine who socializes, but I really do see people’s responses and they make me go :)))))

Okay ramble over. Thanks for coming to the soapbox, and good luck on creating!

#critterbitter #ask #mailbox

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thankskenpenders · 10 months

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As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

youtube

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

#tkp post

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thebibliosphere · 1 year

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It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

#I need a tag for my weird dreams #they happen infrequently but when they do they’re always bangers #long post #literal fever dream #thanks delayed reaction to the Covid shot…

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