#I've never had someone who's old enough to be my mother look out for me like this before
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rainbow-scarab · 18 hours ago
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Sly's Past in the Crossroads
I coulda sworn I put this on my blog but perhaps I mix it up with all those times I've told people on Discord so XD here we are. Theory post time.
Sly used to live in the Crossroads, in that little village where you first find him. I think this for a few reasons.
First, I must speak of Sly's age.
The stasis seems to have some odd effects on bugs, some of which seem to have lived a long time. I'm just assuming that aspect of stasis for this post. Sly trained the Nailmasters, and is almost certainly older than them. Some of Sheo's dialog has him speak of the Great Knights (and sculpt them). He seems quite familiar, at least for someone with an interest in the kingdom's warriors. But according to Lemm, "Both [the Great Knight's] names and appearance seem to have been expunged from history." So it seems Sheo, and by extension Sly, are old enough to have been around during Hallownest's heyday, perhaps centuries ago.
This raises an interesting contradiction. The game manual calls Elderbug "the oldest resident of Dirtmouth". Dirtmouth, it seems, has been living on the edge of the Kingdom, free of the stasis. Elderbug looks and acts old, but he's just....normal old, not supernaturally old like Sly. He doesn't know what Hallownest was like long ago except in stories. When you open the stag station in Dirtmouth, he says "That building lay silent since before even my time."
So, what to do with this discrepancy? Surely Team Cherry could never make a mistake, could they?? If Sly was originally from somewhere else, perhaps that could explain the wording that Elderbug is Dirtmouth's oldest.
(I've heard some say there are some mistakes in the game manual as compared to the game XD it could be for this but that's not all I have here for my theory)
We find Sly in that little village, the same one where we find Gruz Mother and Salubra, in a house that's falling apart. He's partially infected, though Ghost is able to break him out of his haze. Bugs become infected through their dreams. Bardoon says:
I resist the light's allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought… To instinct alone a bug is reduced…
We see reference to the instinctual state of bugs as well in a few entries of the Hunter's Journal, such as guards continuing to act as guards. Sly is not as far gone, but I had to wonder. Why does dream lead him there? To a village that's mostly dead? He thinks of Oro, his past pupil, and whoever Esmy is (I think another prior (and probably dead) pupil, but that's for another post). When Ghost breaks him out of his early state of infection, he says:
…I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn't found me, I don't think I would've ever woken.
He seems to recognize it instantly, even from the inside of a broken house. I think he used to live there, in that same house. A place he knew well, ingrained in him deeper than his current house (and life) in Dirtmouth. Where even if half asleep his feet could carry him there on instinct.
...Lastly. I think. I think Sly and Salubra used to be dating XDDDDDD sorry I am subjecting you all to this. But I have reason to believe it. Or at least that they were flirty in the past.
I think Salubra talks to Ghost somewhat like she used to talk to Sly. She calls Ghost a "gadfly" a couple of times. And this word has a few meanings. One is literally a kind of fly, and Sly is a fly as well. Another is "social butterfly", which could be what Salubra is thinking of (especially with calling Ghost "stylish" and "dapper" alongside the word). BUT THE THIRD DEFINITION--
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WHO'S MORE OF A BLOODSUCKER THAN SLY LOLLLLLLL
I rest my case, Salubra used to call Sly her dapper gadfly, Slylubra canon
.
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(ahem, my primary evidence is mostly the dream instinct aspect as far as Sly's former home, but shhhh Sly/Salubra is clearly the most important outcome of the lore XD)
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shittygothbitch · 3 months ago
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Omg
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 21 days ago
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You'll Be Home For Christmas
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Summary: You agree to do a favour for your coworker but it might be more than you can handle.
Character: Clark Kent
Day Nineeen of the December Daze Challenge.
Prompt - fake dating becomes too real.
Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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"I know it sounds weird, but, my mom's getting up there..." Clark looks away as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. 
You're not sure how he does it. How someone like him can make himself look pathetic. He's a big man. Mountainous really. He dwarfs just about everybody in the office. Even the desks look tiny next to him. And the chisel of his face is so sharp yet in that moment, he looks heart-wrenchingly soft. 
"It's just you two this year?" You ask. 
"Um, yeah," he rubs the back of his neck then drags his hand around and down his chest. He shifts in his chair and clears his throat. "Look, I know I can be nosy but I overheard you and Maggie. You said you don't have any plans this year--" He cringes and leans forward, putting his elbows to the desk as he covers his face then peeks out between his fingers. "It's a dumb idea." 
"It seems like you're pretty stressed," you fold your hands behind you. You don't want to agree with his last statement and make him feel worse. 
"Yeah, after Lois..." he shakes his head, "my mom's convinced I'm going to be alone forever and she keeps telling me how old she's getting. Says she wants to live long enough to see me happy." 
"Wow, sounds worse than my mom," you kid but quickly deflate. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make light." 
"No, it's ridiculous," he heaves and drops his eyes. "I've asked two of my neighbours, I asked my mail lady, and oh, yeah, the girl who made my coffee today. I'm all out of shame." 
"Can I think about it?" You ask. You know you're going to say no, but you don't want to do it right away. 
He perks up and his blue eyes flick to meet yours. His brows rise hopefully and he rolls forward in his chair, "really?" 
"I didn't say yes." 
"But you're the first person not to say no," he smiles. 
Oof, there it is. You've always had a hard time in situations like these. You're a people pleaser in the worst way. 
"Anyway, I should get back to work," you say. 
"When-- when will you know?" He asks. 
You hesitate. 
"End of today?" He suggests. 
You nod. Alright. You just need to get out of there before you cave to that puppy dog sparkle in his eyes. A man who looks like that shouldn't be able to make himself so pitiful. 
You don’t know why you said yes. You really were going to say no but when Clark came back to check in, you weren’t prepared. So absorbed in your work, that you forgot about the odd request. 
So here you are, right beside him, wound as tight as a spring as you try not to show it. It’s not how you imagined spending Christmas. When your typical traditional obligation felt through, you were almost relieved. Now that dread has returned but in a new flavour. Meeting someone else’s family is somehow more intimidating than your mother’s judgement. 
Clark’s own anxiety pales in his knuckles as he drives silently. Only the radio provides some softness in the tension between you. It’s always strange to spend time with coworkers outside the office and now you’re jumping headfirst into their most personal facet. 
You fidget in your seat and let your eyes blur out the window. You didn’t expect his mom to live this far, yet you should have. He’d mentioned before he grew up on a farm. It must have been nice in a way, peaceful, out where you can’t hear the city honking and hollering. 
The snow thickens as you get further into the country. His large truck doesn’t falter as he steers cautiously through snowed over tire tracks. Would the plow even get this far out here? If it did, you don’t imagine it would come very often. 
Your mind latches onto those random things to avoid the obvious. You’ve always been this way. Instead of worrying about your mother lecturing you about your stagnant work situation, you’re usually more concerned with how your hair lays or if she’s going to the like that bottle of wine you spent too much money on for her. 
“Thanks again,” Clark’s baritone rolls over you like thunder. “Really. I know it’s... strange. I’m just not ready to date again but... my mom...” 
“Trust me. I get it. My mom can be... a lot,” you chuckle, though it’s really not that funny. 
“Oh yeah? I didn’t want to be nosy, but...” 
“Right, uh, you know, my brother asked if we could have dinner on Christmas Eve instead and the rest of us agreed. She insisted that Christmas Eve isn’t Christmas...” Your heart picks up with the anxiety you bury deep down. “Well, she cancelled Christmas since no one agreed with her.” 
“Wow, really?” 
“Uh, yep,” you can’t look at him. It’s embarrassing. It’s like when your mother dumped your birthday cake in the garbage because you pointed out you were 13 not 12 that year. Or when she walked out of your graduation because your grandmother wouldn’t switch seats. “It’s whatever. Family, right?” 
“I guess,” he says. “My parents always loved holidays too. Especially when dad was around.” 
“I’m sorry about your dad,” you murmur. 
“Don’t be. Sorry if it seems like I keep bringing that up,” he sniffs. 
You look ahead to the sole structure as it looms closer and closer. A farmhouse that comes clearer through the drift of flakes, and a barn like a shadow near its rear corner. It’s like one of those classic festive paintings printed on an advent calendar or some 1950s domestic dream. 
He pulls up to the house and shifts in his seat. Concern needles in his cheek as he squints over the steering wheel. He wrenches the shifter into park and kills the engine. You sit futilely and let him take the lead. 
“Lights are off,” he mutters. 
You nod, unsure what to say. Is something wrong? 
He gets out and you watch the snow dust into his dark hair and across his broad shoulders. He is unfettered by the deep snow. You zip up your coat and turn to your door. You push it open and look out into the perilous carpet. 
Clark surprises you as he comes around. “Here,” he puts his arms out, “it’s deep.” 
You grab his hand and his other goes to your waist. He as good as lifts you and sets you down in the path he’s stomped through the piles. You thank him and awkwardly detach. He shuts the door and moves around you closely. 
He leads the way to the porch so you can walk through his footsteps. Your lashes catch the snow as you look up at the grey sky. You don’t think you’ll make it home that night. Shoot. 
Clark kicks off his boots as he digs in the pocket of his coat and pulls out some keys. He unlocks the door and gestures you in ahead of him. You try to clear off your treads before you enter. He reaches around the frame to flip on the light. 
He crowds you as he enters. You try not to step off the mat and make a mess of the floor. You slip free of your Adidas, not the best choice for the weather, and shuffle aside. He hangs his jackets and combs his fingers through his hair to clear the flakes out. The dark strands glisten with the moisture. 
“Give me your coat,” he reaches for you. 
“Oh, yeah,” you unzip your jacket and hand it over. It isn’t exactly climate appropriate either. You’ve been meaning to invest in winter gear. A lot of times your intentions are only ever that. “Thanks.” 
“Quiet...” he mulls as his eyes skim the ceiling and he hooks your jacket on the rack. 
“Yeah, a little.” 
“Ma’s probably laying down,” he utters with a hint of concern. “I’m gonna go check and see what’s going on.” 
“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” 
“No worries. She stays up all night reading,” he shakes his head. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” 
“Right, er, okay.” 
You back up as he passes you. He heads upstairs and you slowly pivot to take in the interior. The pale wood is marked with knots which give it an even more rustic atmosphere and the decor is simple but in a quaintly traditional way. The details etched into the slender drawer of a side table or the dainty trim of the area rug give a lived-in effect. 
You tiptoe into the front room and hug yourself as you feel a draught whisper in around the window. You find the light switch and flip it on to cast more light across the neatly arranged furniture. There's an old-fashioned iron firestove in the middle of the room, the flue built up to the ceiling.  
You can hear Clark moving around above. The rest of the house is silent. You look at the old grandfather clock standing against the wall. It’s just after eleven in the morning. 
You turn as the stairs creak. Clark appears in the doorway with a sober expression. “Mom’s just waking up. It might be a while. She... she’s having a tough day.” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is she sick?” 
“She is and she isn’t. Just getting older, you know? Ever since she broke her hip last year, she’s been a bit slower,” he explains. 
“Oh, gosh, Clark,” you say. “Is there anything I can do to help? You said she was planning on dinner but I can get all that started for her.” 
“Sure, she usually thaws the turkey in the sink overnight,” he says. “We should probably start there.” 
“Right,” you chew your lip. 
“It’s nice of you to offer but if it’s too much--” 
“No, no! It’s cool. I’ve just never stuffed a turkey on my own,” you say. “I was always just an observer.” 
Your mother never believed anything was done right unless she did it herself. Then she’d complain about having to do it. 
“I can help,” he offers. 
“Sure, sounds like a plan. I think she might appreciate the help, huh?��� 
He smiles but doesn’t answer right away. For a moment, he only stares. He clears his throat and nods at last, “she would—will.” 
“Show me where it all is,” you show your palms, not wanting to presume too much. 
He beckons you after him as he leads you through the doorway perpendicular to the one you came through. He turns on another light. This place feels desolate with them off. 
“So uh...” he begins as he goes to the counter and peeks in the sink, “yep, turkey’s in here.” 
“Great, hopefully it’s dethawed,” you say. “Alright, do you mind if I poke around?” 
“It’s all yours. I’ll try to help but gotta be honest, as a kid, I was out in the field,” he stands back to watch you. 
“Right,” you come forward to look the turkey over. Good thing is it won’t need extra time due to being half-frozen. 
“Hum... do you know if your mother does stuffing from scratch or a box?” You turn back to him. 
“Scratch, probably,” he shrugs. 
“Cool, uh, I need bread,” you declare. It’s almost nice being in charge. A very new but refreshing feeling. 
The smell of turkey wafts from the stove as you work at the other fixings. You follow the list on the fridge. The paper is a bit yellowed but you can read it nonetheless. At least Clark’s mother is a planner. Although a few of her ingredients are a bit... aged. Nothing you can’t use but the spices have a little extra dust on the caps. 
Clark appears again. He’s been pacing in and out, helping where he can, but he seems too restless to focus. You tap pause on your phone to stop the music. You don’t get any signal out here but you have a bunch downloaded. It helps ease the silence that thickens with the fall of snow. 
“So, how’s mom? She doing okay?” You ask. 
“Mom?” He hesitates, “yeah, she’s getting there. Sorry about this. I know the whole reason you did this was to make her happy. For me. I just didn’t expect--” He blows out a heavy breath and leans on the counter. “It’s hard when you get older and everyone you love starts to leave. Or change.” 
Your heart flickers. You try not to frown too deep, “I’m sorry, Clark.” You look back down at the bowl of soaking cranberries. You take your family for granted. The might be a little toxic but they’re there. 
“Not your fault. I just... I thought I had it figured out with Lois. Everyone was happy and my mom was ecstatic,” he clutches his hands together. You meet his eyes sheepishly. “I just wanted her to be that way again. And you’re so sweet and nice.” 
“Aw, Clark. Well, you know, I should thank you. At least I’m not alone on Christmas,” you try to pep yourself up. “Um, I gotta wait for these cranberries a little long. Could I use the bathroom?” 
“Right, er, it’s just down the hall,” he points towards the second doorway that interconnects with the same hallway that leads back to the stairs. 
“Thanks,” you wipe your hands on a dishcloth and leave him with a thin smile. 
As you flit out, your chest sinks. You think of everything you’ve said since you got there, how insensitive it must have seemed. And back in the car when you complained about your mom. Ugh, he must think you’re so ungrateful. 
You close yourself in the bathroom and tend to your business. You’d been holding it since he picked you up from your building. You wash your hands, pumping the soap bottle hard to dislodge a clog in the tube. You finally finish up but find the smell of mildew stuck to your hands from the towel. 
You come out of the bathroom and look up and down the hallway. You shift to see the framed picture a bit better. Those must be his parents, and little Clark. You can’t believe he was ever that small. 
There are other pictures across the table below. A cluster of frames; class photos, impromptu snaps of memories, and posed family shots. Beneath one, there’s a slip of paper. You try not to be intrusive but the fading font catches your eye. You lean in as you tilt the frame to see the full letter, the card bent and forgotten beneath. 
‘Our condolences. We were so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. Please do let us anything we can do for you.’ The message is signed Mallory and Chuck. You blink in confusion. Maybe it’s an old card meant for his mother; for a grandparent. 
“She died last year,” Clark startles you so you whip up and nearly tip as you stand straight. “It’s my first Christmas without her,” he continues. “I’m sorry I lied but I didn’t want to be alone.” 
You shake your head. Confusion swells through your stomach and clouds your brain. The fog clears and your eyes wander up to the ceiling. 
“Your mom?” 
“I miss her,” his voice cracks. “She took care of me.” 
“Oh, well, yeah,” you quaver unevenly. You’re reeling. Why would he lie about that? And to get you here? You’re just coworkers. “That must be hard.” 
“Mhm,” he nods and pouts. As he comes closer, you tense, wavering with his steps. “You’re not mad at me?” 
Your lips part then close. The wind whistles outside and reminds you of how isolated this place is. Clark drove you here... 
“I’m just... wondering why you need to lie,” you eke out. 
“I know it’s wrong but... if I told the truth, you might say no.” 
You nod and as he reaches for you, you wince away. You hug yourself and push your shoulders up. You swallow, “Clark, what is the truth? Why am I here?” 
He tilts his head and his eyes drift to the side. The light fades in his pupils and his jaw clenches. His fingers twiddle by his leg. 
“To be with me,” he looks at you again and smiles. A smile shadowed sinisterly beneath the worn bulb above. “You’re alone too.” 
You stare at him. Terror floods your veins and paralyses you. You want to turn and run but you won’t get far. All you can do is bide your time and hope that you can find a chance and way to get out. But for now, with him so close, so much bigger, you have to pretend. That is exactly what he asked you to do, after all. 
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mariclerc · 10 months ago
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Predestined | cl16
Summary: Where you have had mixed feelings for years with your brother's best friend... And finally those feelings see the light.
Warning: none, just fluff.
a/n: let me know if u want a part 2 of this!!
Part 2
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You were always surrounded by go-karts, the smell of gasoline and mud, like a good little sister, you accompanied your older brother to his karting races with his best friend. Basically your childhood and part of your teenage years were spent in that, in being the number one fan of those two boys... Your big brother and the boy who always stole your breath.
Currently, you are lost in thought when you are interrupted by a knock on the front door.
“I'm coming!” You say out loud as you leave the living room towards the door, opening it you find your brother's best friend, Charles, or better known as the boy who makes you sigh, in your eyes he always looks so cute. “Oh, hi char! Ehm... Luca is not home... But come in!” you say a little enthusiastically.
He smiled as he walked into the house. “But it's nice to see you little butterfly!” He said as he approached to give you a small kiss on the forehead, something they have done since you were little.
You always found him cute and adorable, even when he and your brother came home covered in mud and angry for losing a race, or when your mother scolded them for breaking a vase while you secretly passed him some chocolate cookies. They are 22 and you are 21 years old, but despite everything, they both always protected you back in the day, not now since you are older, but the affection is the same, especially between you and Charles. Since he always gave you cute nicknames and treated you like a princess, something that didn't bother you when you were little, but now those feelings have changed a little.
“What brings you here Charlie?” you ask timidly.
“Nothing in particular really, just... I wanted to spend time with you, it's been a long time since we've caught up.” He smiled and you felt your cheeks blush a little.
You both went to the couch and decide to watch a rom-com, the laughter and the knowing and slightly flirtatious glances did not take long to wait. You looked like some teenagers with their first love, something you were not lucky enough to have.
“God, how beautiful... How I would have liked to experience something like that.” You say in a murmur, referring to the couple in the movie, he, curious, turns his face towards you to look at your face.
“What do you mean, pretty?” He ask gently.
You take a deep breath. “Well... I've never had a boyfriend.” you pause briefly. “And I know you'll laugh and say it's not true and blah blah blah but...” You say but he shuts you up by grabbing your face gently.
“Who said I'm going to laugh at you? But I find it curious that a girl as pretty as you has never had a boyfriend... Not even something casual?” He asks gently, you denied. “How sad honey, maybe you were looking in the wrong places.”
“It's not just that, it's that... I don't know, no one showed interest in me before and my shyness doesn't help much to be honest.” You sigh.
Right now you are a whirlwind of feelings towards him that are quite strong and strange, but somehow it felt good.
“Maybe there is someone interested in you... For a long time if I'm honest.” He says in a whisper.
You look at him. “Who is it Charles?”
“If I told you that I am that person, would you still see me the same way?” He asks you subtly and you blush.
The times you imagined confessing your feelings towards him were countless, but it never crossed your mind that he would be the one confessing his feelings to you... Maybe it's not the most romantic way of all, but at least it's something.
“Tell me this isn't a joke Charlie.”
He laughed a little. “How could this be a joke, honey? You always caught my attention, you seemed like the cutest pretty girl in the whole city, even when you had your little pigtails and you followed your brother and I through the garden on summer days.” He whispered again. “You were always that impossible crush for me... Maybe now it's not so impossible after all.”
You blushed a lot. “Oh god, Charles... I liked you too, for a long time... But I never knew how to let you know...” You say in a whisper.
His smile widened and with one of his hands he caressed your cheeks in an adorable way that made your heart race. “Oh my shy little princess... Could I give you a kiss?” he asked and you nod slowly.
He shortened the distance between you to join your lips, it was a mix between a soft, shy and slow kiss but with it has a lot of meaning. You always imagined what it would be like to kiss him, if his lips felt warm on yours, and none of that is out of reality because it feels just like you imagined it repeatedly for a long time. In a moment he instinctively places you on his lap, everything feels so new and comfortable at the same time it's like it was meant to be. He fell for you even more when he felt you smile halfway through the kiss, something that drove him crazy in a good way.
All your parents' jokes saying that you were going to end up married to Charles and to which both of you always made disgusted faces finally made sense.
You separate from the kiss breathlessly, with a giddy smile on your face. “Oh my... That was incredible Charles.” You say in a whisper.
“It was better than I had imagined in my dreams.”
You both let out a small giggle and you caressed his face, the untidy trail of beard was present on it, his pink and fleshy lips parted and swollen, his greenish eyes who always looked at you as if you were a goddess and now they do it even more. All those "little" details are what made you fall in love with him and you wouldn't change a single thing about it.
Obviously you were inside your little bubble that you didn't hear the door opened.
“Well, well, well... What do we have here?” You hear your brother's mocking voice and the two of you separate and hurriedly get up from the couch.
You were blushing with shame. “Luca... I... Um... I...” No coherent sentence was coming out of your mouth since you were babbling, you hid behind Charles.
“I suppose you have a better explanation than my sister's, don't you Leclerc?” He asked ironically.
He breathed. “Yes, in fact yes... I don't know if it is or was something noticeable for you for years but I like y/n and, surprisingly, she likes me too.” he sigh. “And well, we decided to take that leap of faith, isn't it petit coeur?” He says and you nod sheepishly behind him. (little heart).
A knowing look and a sly smile landed on Luca's face. “It's amazing how clueless you guys are! I mean, it was very obvious that you both liked each other, you just needed to know it yourselves too.” He said and giggled, you exhaled calmly.
“So you're not angry? I thought you would be!” you asked softly.
He denied as he looked at both of you. “Not at all! Actually, I am very happy for you!” He approached you two. “I'll just tell you something... You hurt my little sister and I swear I will never speak to you again in my life, is that clear Charles?” He said addressing Charles and the aforementioned nodded.
“I would never hurt her... She is important to both you and me, there is no joke in doing that.” He said firmly.
Luca smiled. “Well lovebirds, I better give you guys some privacy.” he said and hugged both of you. “I don't want nephews yet, okay?” He said as he winked and walked up the stairs.
You blushed and Charles was also the same as you, you were smiling and giddy. “Well, I didn't imagine this would be the way he would know about all this.”
He caressed your face gently. “I didn't imagine it either, but I couldn't prefer it any other way.” he whispered close to your lips.
He shortened the distance between his lips again to kiss you a little more deeply, it was something you had longed for for a long time, and that now it was easy for you to access anytime you both needed. It felt so good the way he held you in his arms, how your bodies fit together, it was something predestined to happen, and that idea didn't bother you at all.
“Oh mia principessa... Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked shyly while blushing. “I wouldn't want to be kissing you with your brother around... It scares me babe.”
You nod as you let out a small giggle. “Yep! Of course I would like a date with you Charlie! Although we can always get our way.” you whisper and laugh, giving a little hint that you two could spend time in your room.
“I like how you think cutie pie.” he gives you a little kiss on the tip of your nose and you giggle. “How about I pick you up tomorrow at 6pm or 7pm? We can go for an ice cream, from the ice cream parlor with the pastel colors wall that you like so much... Or maybe go to eat at the Italian restaurant and then go for an ice cream? How you prefer honey, you decide.”
Seeing him so nervous and shy about taking you on a date was something incredible to see, you never thought that he would be the type of guy who gets nervous about taking a girl on a date... Maybe because you are also nervous, you have never had a date and having it with him was more than perfect.
You shushed him as you gave him a small kiss on the lips. “Whatever it is, it's fine! Being with you is enough, you know?” You whispered and you both smiled.
“Then it's okay darling! Oh god, I feel like I'm in a dream... A very cute and adorable one.”
You feel your cheeks blush, you have never felt so many emotions together just for a boy, just for him, but fortunately he was now your boy and that made you happy and content. You stayed for a while hugging in silence, enjoying the warmth that your bodies provided you. Who would have thought that you would actually end up with the boy of your dreams, the one who arrived with an angry face for not finishing a race, but who somehow smiled when he saw you.
After a while you separated from the hug and you walked him to the door.
“So... Tomorrow at 6?” You ask him softly.
He nods. “Yes darling! Oh god... I can't believe I can kiss you now!” He says excitedly and you laugh softly.
“It's better than a podium?” You giggle.
“Oh hell yes! It's much better than a win chérie.” He leans in again to kiss you while holding your face gently.
After saying goodbye for like the eighteenth time, you went up to your room to scream into your pillow like a teenager with her first boyfriend, and somehow you felt that way. You heard a knock on the door of your room and you opened it to find your brother on the other side.
“Tell me something, do I have to punch his face?” He question with a sly face and you denied.
“Not at all, plus I don't think you want to break your best friend's face.”
He shakes his head. “I'm really so happy for you bubbles, you have no idea how happy I am for you two!” He said and hugged you. “And tell me... Has he already invited you on a date?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.
You blushed instantly. “Luca! Yes and I won't give you details until tomorrow when I'm back.”
He smiled while he ruffled your hair. “It seems fair to me.”
***
You didn't stop walking around the room while the clock almost struck 6pm, you had dressed pretty nice for the occasion and you really didn't know if it was too much since you've never been on a date before. You feel butterflies fluttering inside you and it is a pleasant and strange sensation at the same time.
“I'm coming!” You say as you go to the door to find a smiling Charles. “Hi bubba!” You say a little shyly as you stand on tiptoe to give him a small kiss on the cheek, an act that makes him blush. “You look handsome baby!”
He looked at you speechless and smiled. “Damn baby, you look absolutely gorgeous!” He said with a smile from ear to ear. “Oh, here these are for you! I know you like sunflowers and as soon as I saw them I remembered how much you love them, so... I hope you like them.” He said as he handed you the small but very pretty bouquet of sunflowers.
Your eyes glazed over a little. “Oh god, you didn't have to do it! But thanks Charlie, I love them!” You say as you give him a hug and then place the sunflowers in a vase.
“Well, are you ready for the best date? Little princess?” he asked softly and you giggled and blush while you nodded.
“I'm very ready charlie bear!” You giggled.
There was a very tender and childlike aura between the two of you, maybe it was the lack of romantic experience you've had or maybe it's the fact that you've been imagining this moment for years with him and that you both knew each other since you were little, whatever, it was a very nice and cute vibe between the two of you.
***
The date was a fever dream, he was everything you had imagined and much more, he was attentive, gentlemanly and he even remembered things that perhaps were silly to you at the time that you said them, but you didn't know he was taking notes of each one of these little things. There were shy and flirtatious glances, little smiles here and there and he even held your hand very delicately and tenderly, as if you were a little porcelain doll.
After dinner in the cozy Italian restaurant you went for an ice cream at the ice cream parlor he mentioned the day before and now you are enjoying a nice ride in his car.
“Do you know what I loved when your brother had sleepovers? When we made a fort in your parents' living room.” He says with a somewhat nostalgic smile on his face.
You smiled. “Oh yes, it was very adorable!”
He nodded. “The most adorable thing was that I told your brother to include you there. Although, now the best thing is that you are the little princess of our own fort.”
You have the faint memory of those sleepover nights where your brother asked you to stay in your room since they stayed in the living room to play boy things, you always wanted to do a sleepover but you never had as many friends as your brother. When your brother were making the fort in the living room, Charles always asked him if he could look for you in your room, since he didn't want you to feel alone. He wanted you to be the little princess of the fort.
“Oh yes, I remember! You were going to look for me secretly from my brother to take me to the fort.” You let out a small giggle at the memory.
“Yes, well... I think it was from there that I started to like you a lot.” He blushed.
You blushed slightly. “Since I was eight years old? Have you liked me since then?” You asked him and he nodded with blushing cheeks.
“Yep, although now it's better! Since I can kiss you every so often.” he giggled. “My cute little princess.”
“Do you know what I thought about you back then? That you were out of my reach... And yes, it's stupid, but you were so cute and kind with me that I couldn't help but think about it.” You say in a whisper as you look at him with adoration in your gaze.
“Oh baby, you were also a cutie, well, you still are! Ma jolie petite poupée.” He says while caressing your face. (my pretty little doll)
He smiled and brought his face closer to yours to kiss your lips gently, your hands were in his hair and you pulled him more closer to you while he placed his hands on your waist and he caressed the area with his fingertips, the kisses became a little messy, but it was quite pleasurable. You broke apart to catch your breath and both of you had little smiles.
“Wow... I can get addicted to your lips, you know?” You say in a whisper.
He smiled tenderly. “Well get ready, because maybe you will have an overdose of kisses every now and then ma belle.” He said as he gave you a kiss on the forehead. (my beautiful)
“Well that's perfect! We just have to... You know, hide from my brother maybe.” You let out a little giggle. “But that doesn't matter now, I just want to be with you.”
After a while you returned to where it all started, at the front door of your house, you both had blushing cheeks, something constant and common next to him.
“Charlie, thank you very much!” you smiled shyly. “Thank you for taking me on a date, it was amazing!” you giggled.
He winks at you and leans down to kiss your forehead. “Was nothing amour, I really liked this date too!” he smiled.
You stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek, letting out a giggle as his slight stuble tickled you. “That tickles!” you giggled again.
He blushes. “Sorry petit bébé!” he giggled too. (little baby)
Just as you guys are about to kiss each other goodbye (finally), you hear someone clearing their throat, you turn your head to find Luca standing with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.
“Okay, okay, little lovebirds, enough of the corny stuff.” He said while laughing a little, you rolled your eyes.
“Shh, shut up mate, just a couple of minutes with her and she's all yours.” Charles says and your brother laughs and went back into the house. “Well... What were we up to?” He asks and you approach him to shorten the distance and kiss, it was a shy kiss but with a lot of feeling, just like the others.
It's incredible how after so many years of having an impossible crush on him it seems like all the pieces are starting to fit into place and it's something very, very precious. You separated from the kiss and put your foreheads together while smiling like two hopeless lovers.
“I like you so much baby.” He whispers softly.
“I like you so so much baby boy.” You whisper too.
At the end of the day your parents were right with all those jokes, they knew that you and Charles were going to end up together because, after all, you were destined for each other and at some point it was going to happen.
ynusername
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liked by lucay/l/n, lilyhme, georgerussell63 and others
ynusername yes, I still stand on my tippytoes to kiss him 🎀🎀
tagged charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc oh god, my little princess i love uuu 🩷🩷🩷
ynusername i love u too little prince 🩵🩵🩵
user1 omg, Isn't that @lucay/l/n sister?
user2 oh god! I've read that she and Charles have been dating since they were children, but I'm not even sure.
user3 uhh, no. You're wrong! She is Luca's sister (Charles' best friend) but they weren't dating before, they had a little crush on each other while growing up
user2 ohhhhhh, got it! thx!!!
pierregasly FINALLYYYYY
yourmom I knew you guys were going to end up together! I love you my little guys <3
liked by ynusername and charles_leclerc
alex_albon finally we won't have to listen to Charles regret never making a move on you.
ynusername but he did 😋😋😋
lucay/l/n I love you guys so much bubbles and little torment
charles_leclerc I thought you had forgotten about my "little torment" era
ynusername oh god, don't fight silly boys
lucay/l/n k, i got it bubbles!!
charles_leclerc I love you I love you I love you I love you my girl 🎀🩷
ynusername i love you too handsome, please come back i miss you 🥺🥺
charles_leclerc I will be at your door in a few minutes don't worry baby girl <3
ynusername okay cutie 🥰
601 notes · View notes
alottanothing · 6 months ago
Text
This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.
Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)
And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!
Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)
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The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.
It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.
When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.
In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.
Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.
There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.
“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”
Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.
“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.
The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?
“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.
“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.
With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.
And that act of kindness was your mistake.
His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.
When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.
You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.
When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.
Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.
Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.
A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.
You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.
With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.
Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.
Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.
“You need a ride, miss?”
Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.
“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”
Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.
“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.
Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.
“Did he hurt ya?”
You shake your head, “no.”
The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.
“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”
“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.” 
Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.
“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”
Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”
He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.
With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.
Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.
Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.
Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.
A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.
Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.
“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”
Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.
His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.
While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.
“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”
As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.
His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.
“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”
Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.
“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.
“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”
The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.
No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.
“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.
Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.
“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”
The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.
“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.” 
If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.
To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.
“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”
“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.
With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.
You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.
No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.
“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.” 
The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw. 
“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.” 
He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.
The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine. 
When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive. 
There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.
“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.
“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.
“For what I done.”
You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”
He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.
“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.
His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down,  you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.
“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.
The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.
“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.
“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”
His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.
Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.
Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.
“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”
Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.
“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.
You nod, “In shining armor.”
He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.
“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”
You laugh and roll your eyes. 
He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.
“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.
“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”
His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.
For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.
You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.
In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.
The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.
Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.
For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.
His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.
Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were. 
“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you. 
You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”
“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his. 
Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him. 
“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”
You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.
“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”
Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.
“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze. 
Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire. 
“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches. 
As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.
You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.
He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.
“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”
Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.
Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.
“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.
Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.
Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.
“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”
You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.
He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.
“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.
A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth... 
“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.
Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.
Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.
“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.
Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.
“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.
Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.
When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.
“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”
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symp4nat · 1 year ago
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"Even Aphrodite envies you."
clarisse la rue x fem!reader
authors note: post 10 pm cry write guys i need to pee, this is a vent fic. also, headcanon that you call clarisse "risse" pronouned Reese bc awwwwwww
summary - you talk about ur body negatively
warnings - talk about body image, over excercizing, not eating/skipping meals, descriptions of body, flashbacks, itty bitty mentions of praying to not greek gods
Thud.
I wasn't enough.
Thwap.
"You need to work out, you're getting too big, and you're only 14," my mother said. I gulped and sat down. "Can we just... pray," I asked. "You need to fix it, usually, girls your age are body conscious.... haven't you seen [friend's name]? That was such a transformation," my dad said.
Thump.
"She lost so much weight, Y/N/N, why don't you do the same? Most people will do things when they see their friends are doing it," my mother said.
Thomp. My mother put her hand on my shoulder-
I went to punch the person who put their hand on me. They caught my hand and I sighed as I saw it was my girlfriend. Clarisse grabbed both of my hands and rubbed my knuckles. "How about we take a break, hm?"
I shook my head. I had to do this.
"Please, no more boxing for the day, you've been overworking yourself," she continued. "Risse, I'm fine.. I've got this," I reassured her.
"Just please, you've been boxing for at least two hours, maybe take a break, okay," she squeezed my hands and walked off. I sighed and went to the archery range.
I grabbed a fairly sized bow and then a set of arrows. I began to shoot around, not necessarily being good at it.
Thwip.
"Y/n, why'd you get new clothes, your old ones were cute," my friends exclaimed. I shrugged. "No need for old clothes..."
Thwap.
"Why don't we all go for a run, some of us need it," my friends said. I looked down and said, "We aren't all wearing tennis shoes."
Shhhk!
They never necessarily spoke much about my own weight, but they all weighed less than me and called themselves fat. They all were skinny or at least average.
"Y/n/n? Please, go rest, I bet you're tired," Clarisse sighed as she noticed me at the archery range. "I'm fine," I defended. "Go get some lunch, or I'll get some for you," she said. I shook my head. "I got it. Thanks, babe," I said.
-
"C'mon, angel, wanna sit on my lap, maybe take a nap," Clarisse asked. I laughed and shook my head, "You rhymed. And, no, it's... alright.."
Clarisse's eyes became sympathetic. "Baby, is it because this," she asked as you placed her hands on what she called my "love handles" and my hip dips. I looked down and shrugged.
"Baby, that isn't a big deal, you're truly beautiful... do- do you not believe me," Clarisse asked. She pulled me onto her lap and I looked down at my hands. "Hey, eyes on me," she said.
My eyes darted back up to hers and she said, "Would you like to know something really cool?" I nodded and she continued, "I think.. no- I know... That even Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty."
My eyes began to fill with tears as I buried my head into her neck. "I love you, I don't deserve you," I said as tears stained her shirt. "I love you most, and yes you do, okay? You absolutely do, pretty girl," she said gently to me as her hands relaxed on my hips.
She leaned back on the bed and pulled me back so I could lay on top of her. "I doubt you wanna talk about it later... but how about we nap for now? And just... please... never... over exercise or over work yourself, angel," I nodded as she spoke and closed my eyes. There wasn't anything I could have done to have just to have someone as caring and supporting her.
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gguk-n · 5 months ago
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Safe Haven (Carlos Sainz x Reader)
Thank you for the 200 followers. I'm having a lot of fun writing. Hope you guys enjoy this celebration post!!
Summary- Meeting Carlos was the best thing to happen to you.
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{Reader's POV}
Ever since Carlos and I had gone public with our relationship; all the people I had avoided informing of our relationship had found out from the news. It was hard to miss when the world like to talk about who the girl was hanging on to one of the hottest F1 driver was.
The one person I had avoided telling about my relationship with Carlos the most was my own mother. Our relationship was always a tough one; she never could accept my choices or decisions. I've lost a lot of partners because of her. Either she would convince me or them that we weren't meant to be; and the next day I was crying on the bathroom floor.
I met Carlos after a particularly bad break up where the guy cheated on me because my mother said I was cheating on him and he should get me back. I really loved him but I felt like the stars had aligned when I met Carlos at the Real Madrid match I was dragged to by my roommate who was tired of watching me mope. The match wasn't very memorable but the guy I was sat next to was. I didn't know he was some formula one driver; all I knew was he was some hot Spanish guy who's voice made a shiver run down my spine. We exchanged numbers at the end of the night and stayed in touch for a while before we could meet up for a date. The date was beautiful and magical just like the fairytales.
We'd been dating for almost 2 years when I finally agreed to go to one of his races. I had moved out from the town that held me back and far far away from my mother. I felt like I was invincible at this point. I guess I forgot what she was capable of. The moment my face was plastered all over the news, my phone wouldn't stop ringing. I was scared. Carlos didn't know the extent of my hurt and why I avoided my mother.
Until a few days after the race, Carlos was out cycling with his friends and I was busy making cookies when I heard the door ring. Thinking it was Carlos, I opened the door; only to be met with the one person I was trying to run away from. "What are you doing here?" I asked, a tremble in my voice. "I heard you got yourself a rich and famous boyfriend. Won't you introduce me to him?" she asked while trying to look behind me. I tried to close the door but she was strong and walked right in. "Can't believe you actually found someone, gullible enough" she sneered taking the whole house in. My hands were shaking and there was a lump in my throat. "The house is big and looks expensive. You must be giving him a good reason to keep you around." she jeered. "Can you leave?" I asked, unsure of anything. "I could but then I wouldn't get to meet this boyfriend of yours, now would I" she replied taking a seat on the couch.
"Why are you here?" I asked, finally finding some strength. "Isn't it obvious? You got rich and famous and forgot your poor old mother who raised you?" she said solemnly. If I didn't know better, I would've been fooled. She leaned back on the sofa, "Come sit darling. It's your house after all" she said, patting the space next to her. I quietly took my place on the sofa next to hers. "I'm hurt. I see you after years and this is the kind of welcome I get" she sighed. "What do you want, now?" I asked more boldly. "I don't get what he sees in you" she started avoiding my question. "You're not pretty or petite like those models, or have money or fame that you can offer. Must be the sex. Am I right?" she asked. I was disgusted at what she said. "Good thing you learned how to please a man. The previous one had to find solace in another woman's arms because of you" she tsked. "He wouldn't have, if you hadn't lied" I spat. "I was only looking out for him" she smiled. "Carlos won't want you around once I'm done talking" she smirked. "He's different, he loves me." I cried out. "Oh dear, all men are the same. They'll leave for a better thing any day." she replied.
As if on queue, I heard the door open and Carlos called out, "Carino, I'm back and I have your favourite cheesecake from that shop you love." I sat there with bated breath. The moment he came in view, I quickly strode towards him. He had placed the cake in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a quick peck. I turned towards my mother and introduced him to her. "Babe, this is my mother. Mom, this is my boyfriend, Carlos." I said. Carlos sensed my unease with my posture to the way I was shaking slightly. He placed a hand on the small of my back and raised his hand to shake my mother's. "Nice to meet. Mrs Y/L/N. I've heard so much about you" he said. "Sadly, I haven't. You'd think that after you grow, birth and raise a child they'd care about you at least. But she left me to rot" she fake cried; the crocodile tears ready to fall. My heart was beating out of my chest. I felt weak and a part of me was scared that what if he listened to my mother and then what. "Mom, you should go, we have somewhere to be." I said, standing my ground. "What a shame? I was hoping to have lunch with you. Carlos, sweetheart, if she ever troubles you; give her a good beating, she's quite docile. I've let her loose and look at the trouble she is causing us both." she said, shaking her head. I felt like throwing up. Carlos was shocked, "Why would I hit her?" he asked. "It's ok darling, all righteous men hit their wives to keep them in line. I mean if you'll make this whore your wife that is" she snickered. "Y/N isn't a whore and I do plan on making her my wife" he replied disgusted at what my mother said.
"I would like it if you would stop disrespecting my girlfriend and leave right now." he asked politely. "Where would the fun be, if I left?" she asked. "Please leave before I call the police" he said sternly. I was shaking violently at this point, all those memories, resurfacing. Thankfully Carlos was able to get her to leave. When he came back after locking the door, I crashed in his arms. "Are you ok, hermosa?" he whispered. I started to cry, "Please don't leave me. I don't know what I'll do without you. I love you so much" I cried out in one breath, holding his shirt tightly. "I will never leave you, hermosa" he replied now carrying me to the sofa. We sat down in each others embrace while I cried my heart out. His shirt wet from all the sweat and my tears.
After I had calmed down, "I didn't know it was this bad" he whispered. "She's the reason my last boyfriend cheated on me" I mumbled. "Well, he was stupid. Good he left. That way I found you." he said while smiling. I finally smiled at him for the first time since my mother came. "Don't listen to anything she says. She doesn't know me, she doesn't know us. I love you so much and I would never let anything happen to you" he comforted. I gave him a hug, burying my face in his neck. He placed me on the sofa before getting up to go to our room. I thought he was going to get changed but instead he came back with something in his hand. "I had elaborate plans that my sisters were helping me in. But this is a better time then any." He said, while getting on one knee. My hands were on my mouth. "I love you since the day I first saw you at the Real Madrid match. I'm so happy that we were sat next to each other. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honour by marrying me?" he stated. "Yes" I croaked out, giving him my left hand. He got up and kissed me. "I'll make sure no one can hurt you ever again. Not even your mother" he said giving me a kiss again. I smiled into the kiss wrapping my arms around him, knowing I was finally safe. "My sisters are gonna kill me, I asked them to plan such an elaborate proposal" he laughed. "I think they'll understand" I said, smiling at him. "Yeah, they love you more than they love me anyways" he chuckled. I was happy I thought while looking at the ring on my finger.
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brucewaynehater101 · 7 months ago
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Hear me out for something Silly. Jack is not Tim's biological parent. Jack, Janet, and Tim all know this. So does Tim's biological parent. Tim does have contact with his Biodad and they do get along wonderfully. When he has time off from his very busy job and thinks it's safe, he will 100% drop by Gothem to see his son. Even if they can't see eachother a lot, Tim and his dad are still very close.
As for how this happened, Janet and Jack had a three way with a *very* interesting stranger about the time Tim would have been conceived. Since he didn't exactly look like Jack, they did a DNA test and then called the guy and asked him to do a DNA test. He told them he would but only if he got his DNA back after the test. Just one of his weird quirks that worked as Rizz on the pair.
Honestly though, it's nothing short of a miracle that they got The Question of all heroes to do a paternity test, but then again. He has always wanted to be a dad and this is an opportunity that just fell into his lap! And the day he walked into his son of 7 years old standing infront of a corkboard covered in pictures and string? It was the proudest day of his life. He had little Tim talk him through all of the strings and explain his theory and Tim started by smacking his little hand on the board and saying in the most manic voice, "BATMAN IS BRUCE WAYNE."
By the end, Question was pacing around the room as Tim also paced around the room, both rambling at eachother as they used Bruce's connections to uncover who well over half the leauge are. Does Question feel a little guilty about finding out his coworkers identities? Maybe. But he doesn't care, he's bonding with his son! His son is brilliant!! Not even he knew who Batman was!!! He could never have been prouder and it nearly made him cry.
Years later when Tim became Robin, he freely told Question about it and while Question didn't approve fully, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop his brilliant, wonderful, adorable, *stubborn* son. Tim could out stubborn a hundred mules, just like both his mother and his father. Maybe he could even out stubborn the both of them, as evidence by Question being the one to cave first. He caved on the condition that Tim get *proper* training and go to a few people of his choosing after he trains under the people that Bruce wants him to train under. Tim agrees and gets a few extra teachers in his time away.
Tim does not tell the Bats that Question is his Dad, simply assuming that if he could figure out who they were at 7 years old, they can figure out something as simple as who his parent is. Turns out, all of the Bats think that Jack Drake is his father and he doesn't find this out until Jack dies. When he does so, Bruce asks where Tim is going to stay and he replies, "with my Dad and his wife, obviously." To which there is quite a bit of confusion until Tim scoffs and crosses his arms as he states, "Jack Drake was never my father. He and Mother were very open about the fact that they had a 3 way and the other guy there is my biological father. I've been in contact with him regularly since I was 3. Sure he's not there all the time but he makes sure to visit minimum once a month. Usually at least twice a week. He's a good person and I'll be fine living with him and his wife. Hell, he's been trying to get me to move in with him for years anyways! Honestly, I thought you already knew this Bruce. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see my Dad." And simply walked out if the cave.
The Bats. Don't know who his father is. Nor for lack of trying though. His dad is The Question that man leaves no evidence of anywhere he has been and never walks into cameras. He leaves just enough that they know he's real. Jason has seen the man with his own two eyes and swears he is a red head, but the man vanished before Jason could say a word to him. However Damian saw Tim talking to someone with black hair and and blue coat on patrol, but didn't get a look at his face. The guy was gone before Damian could get there and Tim tells him that it was his dad doing a mid patrol check in, which he does sometimes.
There is nearly a very big fight about civilians and identity hiding until Tim snaps, "HE KNEW FROM THE DAY I KNEW. HE HELPED ME WITH MY FUCKING EVIDENCE BOARD AND ENCOURAGED ME. BESIDES, HES NOT EVEN A CIVILIAN ANYWAYS!" And before anyone can question it, he goes on a long rant about how it can't be that hard to piece together who his dad is because they haven't been hiding it from them At All and how disappointed he is in them. As he does so, he is texting someone and when asked who, Tim snaps, "my Dad! I'm telling him to come to the Batcave because you're all idiots who couldn't find the link between us!" This leads to Bruce getting angry about inviting strangers to the Batcave and Tim scoffs about Bruce having invited his dad there before.
30 minuets later, when The Question walks in and says, "Hello Batman." Bruce turns to him to ask why he's there but Tim cuts in and says, "finally! Dad, can you believe that none of these idiots put it together?! They have no idea were related!" And Question just says, "but. We've been living together for nearly a year. I've known you all your life and you are the greatest thing I've ever helped to create." And Tim blushes a bit at the last part but plays it off by insulting The Bats, "right? And they call themselves Detectives!"
They spend the next hour roasting the Bats together and also mentioning off the walls crazy theories that are actually true.
Years later when Tim goes on the Brucequest, he doesn't go alone. He shows his evidence to his dad and Question and Huntress both come with him to help. Tim doesn't loose his spleen thanks to them but they do have to team up with the LOA because they have Tam held hostage. They also blow up the leauge but all credit goes to Tim and when they get Bruce back, they try to give credit to Tim but the Leauge just points at Question and Huntress and says, "those two did it."
Holy shit. This AU is fantastic.
I do not know nearly enough about Question, and you've pointed out the errors in my ways. I should know more about him because you are absolutely correct (also, AUs that speculate who can be Tim's bio parents are hilarious to me).
Fuck. I just binged some of his content (a very small amount), and I swear to gods this man is hilarious. His dry wit, conspiracy theories, humor, and overall demeanor is grand. I should find more.
Anyways, I absolutely love how Jack, Janet, and Question are peacefully coparenting. There's no drama or tension. Jack isn't jealous or mad. They just raise Tim together.
Tim and Question bonding over theories, research, stalker tendencies (referencing when Question said he goes through everyone's trash), and pin boards is adorable. This is a friendship/mentor bond I didn't know I needed in my life until now.
I'm also vibing with Question messing with the Bats while Tim us legitimately confused how they haven't figured anything out yet.
I'm also imagining post Jack's funeral (if this is a good dad Bruce AU), that Bruce turns to the newly orphaned Tim. He has adoption papers metaphorically behind his back and does a blue screen at realizing that Tim has been hiding even more parents all this time. It seems his adoption addictions were stopped this time, dagnabbit.
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kasagia · 2 years ago
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Could you make something like where klaus' girlfriend/wife is really attractive and all of his enemies want her(like lucien or tristan)?
Everybody wants to steal my girl
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: Klaus (and you) have been struggling with hybrid's jealousy for 1,000 years. It doesn't help that you're stunningly beautiful and that all his enemies want to steal you from him. But Klaus will not let his wife ever leave his side—or worse, lose her feelings for him. Even if he is "slightly" insecure about himself. Warning(s): jealous Klaus, jealous reader, a bit smut (I think) but not 18+, Klaus being an insecure puppy Word count: 7k I guess
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She's been my queen since we were sixteen, we want the same things We dream the same dreams, alright, alright?
Klaus stormed into the abattoir in a rage. He promised himself that he would rip Lucien's heart out of his chest as soon as the circumstances were right, making sure he had suffered enough for his heinous act beforehand.
Klaus was the only one who could flirt with his wife.
He'd have to make sure that this pathetic creature got the message the next time they met. Lucien had condemned his life to death anyway, but Klaus might have had the pity to spare him from his creative torture.
Y/N didn't like it when he got blood on the floor. And when their daughter Hope came into the world, she tried to keep the violence around her to a minimum. Which didn't mean Klaus shouldn't fight every potential suitor of his baby's mother. Hope would agree with him if she was old enough.
When he calmed down, he decided to look into the room of their miracle child. He smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he saw Y/N putting their daughter to sleep. She sang an Old Norse lullaby they both knew from their human days.
Klaus flashed back to the days when he was just a teenager, head over heels in love with the daughter of their village chief. Then he wouldn't even have had a chance to hold her hand in public. His family was lower in the village hierarchy, which meant he could only dream of marrying a(n) Y/N. Which didn't stop them from falling in love. And turning her into a vampire with the Mikaelson siblings—the only thing he owed to his mother.
They both wanted and dreamed of the same thing: being together. They've had their ups and downs over the past thousand years, but they've always stayed together. She was the only person in their family that Klaus had never stabbed. Besides, he couldn't. She was a hybrid, just like him. After breaking his curse, it turned out that their lost dreams of having a family together weren't all that lost. Hope appeared. And they both hoped she wouldn't be their only child. But first, they had to deal with their enemies.
Klaus knew he would do anything to protect his girls. And in moments like this—when Y/N smiled softly at him, holding their sleeping daughter in her arms—he knew that his efforts were damn well worth the hard work and sleepless nights.
His wife might just not be so irresistibly, wonderfully beautiful at every fucking moment of the day. It would have saved him a lot of nerves and fits of jealousy every time someone flirted with his goddess.
"Tough day?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on his cheek. Klaus didn't even notice when she approached him.
"It's better since I've seen you, love." he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest to bury his nose in her delightfully fragrant hair.
Klaus adored every inch of her.
I know, I know, I know for sure Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me
On days like this, Klaus was more murderous than usual.
Y/N knew full well that after agreeing to Tristan's polite request for a dance, Klaus was going to explode tonight. Not that she wanted to dance with the brother of a bitch who wanted to take her husband. Tristan's compliments to her, or even the subtle hints of his attraction to her, weren't pleasant to her either.
That was the plan: she was to distract Tristan while Klaus and Freya searched their house. The only thing Elijah didn't take into account was Klaus' enormous tendency to get jealous every time he touched her or received a compliment from another man.
Y/N could have sworn she saw Kol in the crowd eating a pack of popcorn, waiting for things to happen.
So she wasn't surprised when Klaus appeared at one point, snatching her from Tristan's arms with a warning growl. Or that he later marked her neck carefully and every inch of her body that had been contaminated by another man's hands.
Y/N was HIS and no one could ever change that. Not when he was around.
Elijah then burst into your room, being very annoyed at his brother's behavior. But honestly? He should have known better than to hope Klaus wouldn't give in to his jealousy. Tristan was lucky he didn't rip his hands off on the spot. On that day, the second of their first-turned vampires handed down a death sentence. Klaus wouldn't let anyone steal his wife.
Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me
The cup of bitterness overflowed in Klaus when Lucien approached you on your annual "wedding anniversary" date. Yes, Klaus dared to show enough of his sentimental and tender side to declare this day a national holiday. No murders and no bodies on this day - that's what he promised you thousands of years ago.
But when he brought your order to the table and saw Lucien shamelessly flirting with you in front of him, inviting you for a drink at his suite, he seriously considered breaking that oath.
Unfortunately, he couldn't do that. He would rather avoid your wrath.
So instead, he walked over to your table with a sly, confident smirk, put the food on the table, and, grabbing your chin, pulled you close to kiss you passionately in front of the vampire.
He was marking his territory.
You smiled as Niklaus ignored Lucien's awkward grunt, only kissing you fiercely. He only let you go when he was sure your lips were swollen enough from his kiss. He smirked at your slightly disheveled state.
"Were you very bored without me, love?" he asked, playing with your hair.
"I kept her company, Klaus." the hybrid winced at Lucien's voice. He mustered up all the rest of his patience and turned his head, acknowledging the vampire's presence.
"Oh really? I didn't notice you, Lucien. You can go now." he brushed him off, turning back to you. Disgust in his gaze gave way to pure adoration. You were always amazed at how quickly you could change his mood with just your presence.
"Nik, sweetheart, it's very inappropriate to talk like that to our oldest friends, isn't it? Lucien, darling, we'll continue our conversation someday. You have to forgive me, but I promised my grumpy husband that I would focus all my attention on him today." you excused the two of you with a cute smile. Lucien just nodded, blushing.
You grabbed Klaus' arm and pulled him out of the bar before he lunged at the vampire.
"Niklaus, my heart and soul, you know I'm only yours, right?" you asked, kissing his cheek to stifle the surge of his jealousy.
"Yes. Which doesn't mean that this creature knows it too. And I'm not grumpy." he grunted, the furrow of irritation on his forehead deepening as he remembered Lucien's sweet words to you. He wanted to vomit as soon as you answered him in an equally nice and polite tone. "Every enemy of mine has a crush on you anyway; even my father doesn't feel disgusted and murderous toward you."
"Yes? You should have seen Aurora's face when she passed us a few minutes ago. She must have sent Lucien here to spoil our evening."
"Wait a minute, love... is that why you've drawn me to this very nice, unexpected, passionate, mind-blowing kiss in the middle of the street?" he asked with an incredulous smirk, watching with satisfaction as a treacherous blush crept onto your cheeks.
"What am I supposed to say? You're as territorial in this relationship as I am. Besides, we don't want to give our enemies the false impression that we see anything but each other, do we?"
"It's good to know you get jealous of me from time to time too, love."
"Time to time? Please, have you seen yourself in the mirror? I'm still at war with all these horny women who want to steal you from me. Such cheekbones, wonderful eyes, and an English accent are the dreams of many."
"Maybe, but I'm probably the one who chases away the most suitors out of the two of us. You have no idea how many people have had a crush on you over the centuries."
Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me
There was going to be a celebration of the summer solstice in their village. Young Klaus was just waiting for you to sneak out with him after the ceremonial rites for your own celebration.
You've been courting each other for over three years now, and today Klaus was finally going to pluck up the courage (with the help of Elijah and Rebekah and Kol's teasing) to propose to you. The ring was safely in his pocket, and the sword was well hidden where the two of you were supposed to spend a romantic evening.
Everything was planned and ready. Nothing could go wrong today. He anticipated and ready for every circumstance, and his mother (the only one of your parents who knew about this secret relationship) promised him to keep his father away from your tryst's place.
But it never occurred to him that another man would try to steal you away from him.
Thor Ragnarsson, the strongest and most powerful young warrior from their village, has been dancing with you since the beginning of the night. And it didn't seem like he was going to let you go that easily, and after the rumors he heard from Kol, Klaus found out that the man wanted to court you.
Klaus had a panic attack. How could he—weak, one of the many sons of a lesser warrior—compete with such a man for your hand? Thor could give you much more than he can. He was stronger, richer, more famous, and handsomer... No. He couldn't think like that. Not when you were destined for each other by fate, stars, spirits, gods, or whatever was watching over you. He had to do something, and fast, before that son of a bitch charms you and you forget the boy who wrote you poems and painted your portraits on the bark of trees.
Klaus may not have been the strongest, but he had something that many of their villagers lacked. He had the cunning, brains, and skill of the best assassin. He will snatch you from this brute's clutches. But first he'll have to figure out how to do it (and take control of the deepening feelings of jealousy that clouded his good judgment.)
Thor only had two weaknesses. Beautiful women and strong drinks. He doubted that he would get drunk so easily; they don't know each other, so even if he offered him something stronger to drink (with an admixture of sleeping herbs), he would probably refuse and sense Klaus' ruse. So he had to resort to Plan B.
"Rebekah!" he shouted, trying to find his sister in the dancing crowd. He found her pretty quickly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from talking to some man (whom he and Elijah needed to check out in the future) and dragged the protesting blonde to a place where they could watch you and Thor. "I need your help. Do you see this skunk who is talking to my Y/N? Please distract him so I and Y/N can run away from there. You know I wanted to propose to her tonight, and that lesser man is ruining my whole plan!"
"Couldn't you have asked Tatia? She would have helped you because of Elijah."
"They got out of here before Kol could scare off another woman. Please, Rebekah. Won't you do it for your favorite brother?"
"She better say yes." she sighed in defeat, threading herself into the dancing crowd. After a moment, she hit Y/N's partner and winked at Klaus. He didn't waste a second. He ran over to you and, making sure everyone was too busy to notice you, threw you over his shoulder and took you from there.
"Nik! You can put me down now." she laughed at him as they entered the forest. Klaus reluctantly set her down, immediately drawing her into a passionate kiss, which she eagerly returned. "What took you so long?"
"I had to make sure the inconvenience wouldn't bother us when we sneaked out."
"That inconvenience has a name. Besides, Thor's just my friend. We both know very well that my heart belongs to only one man in this village."
"And who is it, love?"
"Well, he's quite tall; he has blonde hair and beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes; and he's artistically talented. I've never seen more beautiful things than the ones he's made, and he's soooo jealous of me, but that's only because he loves me and he's pretty insecure about himself. Thinking about it like that, I guess I should make sure he knows how much I desire and love him so he doesn't come up with some weird ideas. What do you think?"
"I think this man was born under a lucky star to be worthy of a miracle like you."
"I forgot to add that he charms me with his words like no one else." you murmured, placing a tender kiss on his lips, which accelerated the rhythm of your already madly beating hearts. He pushed you into a tree, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close, not wanting the world to let this moment between you ever end. You pulled away from him, placing your hand gently on his cheek. You smiled, looking at him with love in your eyes as he turned his head to kiss your hand. "I dare not agree with you. I'm the lucky one to have you, Niklaus. And believe me, nothing on this earth can change the way I love you. Nothing is even close enough to steal me from your safe, loving arms."
"So what do you say when..." he knelt down in front of you, trembling with nerves as he took a hand-made ring from his pocket. "Will I offer you my heart, soul, and body forever? You have my eternal devotion, loyalty, and love regardless of your answer, but know that it will be a real honor and a gift from the gods to call you my wife and to have a family with you. I want nothing more in this world than for you to be mine, Y/N. And I may not be the best choice; I am not very rich or strong, but I promise you that I will try to be the best husband for you."
"Oh, Niklaus, you stupid, insecure man... of course I will marry you!" you screamed with tears in your eyes, throwing yourself at him and knocking the two of you to the ground. You both laughed happily as you kissed each other's faces. Klaus gently slid the ring onto your finger.
One satisfying thought lingered in his mind as you both lounged in the field, embracing each other and watching the stars, talking about your future together.
She belongs to me.
Kisses like cream, her walk is so mean And every jaw drops when she's in those jeans, alright, alright? I don't exist if I don't have her The sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn, alright, alright?
"Any party you forgot to invite me to?" Klaus flinched at your pretentious, cold tone of voice. He turned away from the table to explain why Lucien, Aurora, and Tristan were sitting at the table with him and his brothers but fell silent, trying to keep his jaw from dropping.
"You look breathtaking as always, darling. Tristan and I missed having a beautiful woman at this table." Klaus stared murderously at Lucien as he kissed your hand, ignoring Aurora's offended snort. He knew you did it on purpose.
This morning, when he asked you to take Hope to visit Aunt Hayley for the day, you were wearing a completely different outfit. Now you were wearing those annoyingly tight jeans that showed off your curves perfectly, and you knew he loved them. Paired with a plunging neckline blouse, diamond jewelry, and little makeup, you looked like a goddess. Aurora could hide in the septic tank with her elegant, short dress.
You smirked at Aurora, sitting down between Lucien and Tristan, across from your husband. And that, too, was a deliberate ploy. You were out of reach of his hands to tease him with your beauty even more, regaling those idiots by your side with your heavenly presence. Klaus will make sure you pay for your little feat tonight.
He shot you a warning look as he noticed Lucien inching slightly closer to you, but you ignored him completely, smiling at some comment from the younger vampire.
Oh, yes, you will definitely be punished.
"Something wrong, sweetheart?" you asked him, knowing full well where his thoughts wandered.
"No. You're messing up the world order by fawning over this scoundrel instead of sitting next to me."
"Perfectly fine, love. Just admiring your beauty tonight."
"Only mine?" you asked, casually swirling her glass of wine and glancing meaningfully at Aurora, who tensed slightly under your gaze. You smiled meanly, ignoring Elijah's staring at you with irritation.
After failing to get anything meaningful out of Lucien (Klaus wouldn't let you get close enough to use his tricks), Elijah figured Aurora's weakness for Klaus could be exploited. But this time he didn't anticipate that you'd pick up on your husband's jealous behavior.
And you were much worse than the mighty hybrid.
"You know you're the only one I belong to, love." Klaus finally answered, shocking the younger vampires. They had never witnessed the world's deadliest vampire softly professing his love and devotion to you. You smiled sweetly at him, offering him your hand, which he kissed without hesitation. You shot a malicious, defiant look at Aurora.
They thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but it turns out to be quite the opposite...
Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me
"Cheer up, she's just talking to him and not even of her own free will, Nik." you heard Kol calming down your husband when you tried to get information from Lucien.
For some reason, a vampire who has been impersonating your husband over the years has fallen for your extraordinary beauty and become infatuated with you.
Elijah decided to try again and use this to your advantage, much to Klaus' displeasure and fury. This time, Elijah put his other younger brother on guard. Honestly, it was fun to watch Kol occasionally hold Klaus by his henley to keep him from running towards you.
But of the two evils, Kol preferred to fight Klaus' jealousy over yours. You have proven more than once that you are a more dangerous opponent than his already bloodthirsty brother.
"Are you alright, darling?" Lucien pulled you out of your thoughts as he looked at you with concern.
"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hope's been getting on my nerves lately. She's so little, and she already has her dad's temper."
"A beautiful and caring woman like you deserves one night off." he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and placing a flower there in the process. You had to admit that it was a very sweet gesture. You blushed involuntarily, smiling shyly at the vampire. "Will you do me the honor?" he asked, extending his hand towards you. You really didn't want to flirt with him, but Elijah didn't give you much of a way out. You hoped Klaus knew that. But from the burning look you could feel in the back of your head as Lucien led you to the dance floor, you knew you were bound to have a fit of jealousy at home.
You just hoped no one would die until you were alone in the same room with your husband to ease his jealousy.
You glanced out of the corner of your eye at Kol and Klaus' hideout. You almost burst out laughing as you saw the two brothers jostling with each other as Kol was trying hard to hold Klaus by his henley.
"Bloody hell, calm down before I put a dog muzzle around your neck!" Kol hissed at him, deftly dodging Klaus' fangs as he tried to inject him with his werewolf venom.
Fortunately, Freya came and took control of them, thanks to which the rest of the night went without incident (except that Klaus barged in at the end of the party and, together with Kol, pretending to be drunk, laughed at their ball. The divas, as always, had to show up.)
You thought everything would be fine, but on the way back, Nik didn't say a word to you, only holding your hand in an iron grip as he put up with Kol's story about what a "jealous and rabid dog" he had been throughout the whole ball.
The son of a bitch only made him angrier and escaping to Davina at the first possible opportunity after you were parked under abattoir.
The rest of the siblings got out of the car quickly, leaving you and Klaus alone. You had to defuse the ticking time bomb that was your husband before it was too late, and also on your own.
"Nik..." you began in a sweet tone, but the man didn't even look up from your joined hands as he played with your wedding ring on your finger. "Nik, listen…"
"Do you regret your decision?"he blurted out, not letting you finish your sentence.
"What?" you asked, shocked about his unexpected, serious question.
You turned to him so you could get a better look at him. He was staring at your hands nervously. You could feel his grip tightening with every second of the tense silence between you two.
"Do you regret marrying me?" he asked in a trembling, rueful voice.
"Oh, Niklaus... my best friend, my king, my soulmate. How could I ever regret marrying my first, true, epic love?" you took his cheeks in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. "I love you. All of you. In your good and bad days, and nothing can change that. None knows me as well as you do. Nobody is even close to making me feel the way you have been making me feel for these last thousand years. You are my peace, my home, my security, my heart, and my everything. There could be a billion people asking for my hand, and I'll choose you again, and again, and again. You, our sweet Hope, and your siblings are the only ones I care about in this bloody world. I'm yours, Niklaus, and I'm not going anywhere in the following eternity."
"Good." he murmured, barely holding back tears, and pulled you into a needy kiss.
You grabbed his shoulders and straddled him, knowing full well that, after moments of uncertainty like this, he needed your tender, firm touch.
And with the uncles and aunts watching over your daughter, you were more than willing to take care of your insecure husband.
The next day you woke up alone in your bed, but in a room filled with various beautiful flowers… none of them were like the one Lucien had given you and Klaus had burned.
Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na
You lay in bed together, sleeping off the long weeks of fighting the de Martels and Lucien. You finally killed them, returning to that blissful, peaceful state. AND! Hope has gained a new Uncle Finn and Grandpa Ansel. And it looked like Aunt Davina would join your happy, crazy, Mikaelosn's bunch, thanks to Kol. Klaus allowed them to look after the baby under the watchful eye of Rebekah and Freya.
It'll probably be years before he trusts them enough to leave them alone with Hope, but that's just how your husband was.
Always a protector, a warrior, repelling any evil that could reach his loved ones.
"Stop thinking. Go back to sleep." he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.
Lately, he has had a strange urge to stay very close to you. Maybe it's because spring is coming? You didn't want to ask him about his wolf side yet. He was fairly new to it and... shy. You were glad that now Ansel would be able to help him understand his other half.
"I thought we established a long time ago that I disobey your orders." you started to comb his hair, smiling as you heard him purr softly. He deserved to rest after bravely defending your family. You didn't know how much time you had left until another bomb exploded in your face.
"You could at least pretend to be a little obedient to your husband." he huffed, his eyes still closed.
"Me? Obedient? I thought you knew what you were taking, Mikaelson. Now, it's too late for any returns." you snorted, amused. Klaus graciously opened one eye, staring at you adoringly.
"I did. You're mine forever." he replied seriously, making your cheeks flush furiously and your heart speed up.
"Good." you whispered, placing a tender, short kiss on his lips.
"Good." he replied, cupping your cheeks and kissing you "properly" stealing your breath away. You enjoyed a moment to yourselves, touching each other tenderly, grounding in the familiar feeling of another's lips.
You two needed it after weeks of jealousy and uncertainty on both sides. Reminders that nothing and no one can take each other away. You belonged to him as much as he belonged to you. Soul and body.
You still were kissing as Klaus slid his hand down your neck, breasts, and belly and started to lift your shirt, making you shiver every time your bare skin made brief contact with his fingertips.
Suddenly, Hope's cry came from downstairs, effectively breaking the moment between the two of you. Klaus groaned, resting his forehead against yours.
"Your daughter is calling us."
"And since when is she just my daughter?"
"Since she's been demanding our attention purely because of her current mood. You spoiled her, Nik, and she's not even 4."
"I know another woman I've spoiled, and she's not complaining about it at all. Maybe that's not a bad thing."
"Just bring her here. I need her too." you backed out, knowing full well you couldn't win this fight. Thousands of dresses, jewelry, and your portraits painted by Klaus spoke clearly against you. Hope may have been spoiled by her dad, but over the past thousand years (and probably many more to come), your husband has made sure you get everything you want. Even a fucking star in the sky.
"As you wish, love." he murmured, kissing your forehead before going to fetch your daughter.
She knows, she knows that I never let her down before She know, she knows that I'm never gonna let take another take her love from me
Klaus couldn't let his guard down. You just had to attract everyone with your beauty. Even the Salvatore brothers. He wasn't worried about Damon. He was too smitten with Elena to even think about making a move to get your affection. But Stefan… the golden, Salvatore hero—who had some dark points in common with him but was definitely a better choice than him. Bloody hell, he would want him too, if he had to choose between himself and him. So he has to work really hard to prove to you that he may be better than Stefan.
It didn't help that the younger vampire was stealing you in front of him and dancing with you most of the time at his mother's ball.
Not also the fact that you were willing to let him lead you after Klaus argued with you about Esther's intentions. You sensed something wrong with her aura, but Klaus believed (or wanted to believe) that his mother meant well. That, like him, she wanted to reunite the family.
You guys argued pretty hard about it. And now you were dancing in the arms of his enemy, honoring him with your beauty, smile and attention.
The worst part of it all was that you didn't send him a single malicious smirk. You didn't tease him like you usually did after your fights. You didn't even notice him as he watched you doggedly, tipping another glass of champagne. His name probably never crossed your mind this evening.
He played with the wedding ring on his finger, watching carefully as Salavtore flirted with you in front of him. He promised himself that this time he wouldn't give in to his jealousy. He won't play by the rules of your game, and he won't play the jealous husband. You will come to him yourself and apologize to him.
At least that was the plan until he saw you take your wedding ring off.
This was too fucking much for him.
He set his glass down on the table and with a quick, slightly unsteady step, walked over to the two of you and twisted Stefan's arm, the exact one he had dared to touch your bare shoulder.
Salvatore groaned, drawing the attention of those around you. But you stood firm as you watched your husband break at least two of his bones. He released Stefan in disgust and grabbed your hand, dragging you through the crowd of onlookers to his studio - the only place where no one would dare disturb you.
"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, slamming the door behind the two of you in anger.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, sweetheart."
"For your own good, don't make me more mad than I already am, love."
"And you, for your own good, remember that I AM NOT the meek wife you can order around! I'm the hybrid, like you, an original. You have no power over me, wolfie, no one has."
"Are you sure, love?" he growled throatily, taking a big step towards her. You backed up until you hit the wall behind you. Klaus walked over to you, your chests rubbing against each other with every breath you took.
He suddenly kissed you aggressively, taking out all his anger and insecurity on you as he bit into your enticing mouth and began sucking the slowly oozing blood. He groaned at the sweet, addictive taste on his tongue.
With one hand, he untangles your complicated hairstyle and wraps your hair around his hand, tilting your head back. While he was busy fucking your neck with kisses, you took advantage of his distraction, digging your nails into his arms, taking revenge for biting your lip. He hissed, annoyed at your bratty attitude, and pressed his lips to yours again. Once he had distracted you, he gave away two of your dresses and slapped you hard on the ass. You moaned into the kiss, rubbing against him, making him even crazier with desire. He had to control himself before you went too far for him to carry out his plan.
"Such a willing… so needy whore for me." you moaned as he brushed against your core, still teasing you, his fangs on your neck as he bit your skin gently. "What a pity I only fuck with my wife." he growled, pushing away from you and heading towards the exit.
"Niklaus!" you gasped in anger as his body heat left you.
"Put your wedding ring back on, and maybe I will help you with your... little problem." he threw over his shoulder, ignoring your shouts of protest and threats.
He didn't even get his hand on the doorknob when you pinned him to the door, kissing him passionately. He grinned, throwing you onto the piano in the corner as he caught a glimpse of the familiar black gold on your finger out of the corner of his eye. Where the fuck should always be. He leaned over you, grabbing your chin hard to make you look into his eyes. Need and lust shone in your irises, making him harder than ever.
"You're mine. I am the only bloody man who'll ever hear your sweet moaning in pleasure like a whore. Nobody can take you away from me. Don't ever dare to think you can have any lover but me."
"Then stop talking and prove it."
"With a fucking pleasure, love." he growled, kissing you hungrily as he tore your dress in half.
Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me
Hayley and Jackson's son stayed over at Hope's, and Klaus was more terrified than when he had fought his father. His little girl was playing with some kid. What if he started flirting with her? He had read somewhere that kids that age often find "boyfriends and girlfriends" and call every other person they are friends with that. He wasn't ready to hear from his little daughter that she had a boyfriend.
So ever since Hayley brought him in, he'd been giving the boy a stern look, much to his wife's annoyance. Klaus' reluctance gradually began to turn into indifference when, after hours of time Hope spent with her friend, he did not notice anything suspicious. They'd lasted all day, and there was no indication that the kid would have to be wiped off the face of the earth (or at least taken back to his parents immediately).
But then came breakfast. And Klaus noticed that this kid was staring at you in adoration. And he didn't like it at all.
He was not at all prepared for the insult, the insult directed at him, which the child said after you helped him cut his food.
"You are beautiful and kind as an angel. When I grow up, I will be your husband." Klaus spat out his cup of tea, choking as you tried not to burst out laughing at the 6-year-old's comment and Nik' reaction.
"Honey... but I already have a husband. He'll be very sad if I find another." Hayley called her son, who said goodbye to you and ran to hug Hope before mom took him away. You looked at your stunned husband with amusement. "Well… at least you don't have to worry about him flirting with Hope."
"This kid won't be stepping over the threshold of this house again." he growled, leaving the room to make sure the little one was out for good.
"Niklaus! It is just a child!" you shouted after him, laughing at his jealousy as you ran to make sure he didn't intimidate the poor boy.
Everybody want to steal my girl Everybody want to take her heart away Couple billion in the whole wide world Find another one cause she belongs to me
It's been quite a few years since Klaus' last fit of jealousy. After the (victory) fight against Inadu, you were finally able to enjoy a moment of normality.
You had lunch at some diner in Mystic Falls; you visited Hope at her school, and somehow it happened that a group of her colleagues accosted her. She introduced you, you chatted with them for a while, and everything was supposed to be a normal dinner with your daughter and her friends, until one of them... crossed the line.
"Now we know from whom Hope inherited such loveliness. You are very beautiful, Mrs. Mikaelson."
You quickly grabbed Klaus' hand across the table, politely thanking the boy. Hope, seeing what was going on, escorted her friends away and left you alone for a moment.
"Niklaus, he's just a teenager."
"Uhm." he muttered absently, staring with daggers at the departing boy.
"He could be our son, for God's sake!"
"Most people on this planet could be our children, but that doesn't stop them from flirting with my wife." you rolled your eyes, smiling with amusement as he growled at the boy staring at you when Hope was explaining something to him. The poor guy looked away in panic and ran away as fast as he could.
You were going to scold your husband for scaring your daughter's friends, but you decided to leave it to Hope. The smart girl knew how to talk to her father better than you. Maybe she'd finally knock those stupid fits of jealousy out of his head, with which you've been struggling for 1,000 years.
"Your pregnant wife, I would like to point out. And we're not going anywhere. Certainly not with a teenager." you said, grabbing his chin and pulling him to you so you could kiss him. Klaus grunted, pleased with the feeling of your lips on his, and automatically placed his hand on your yet-unseen belly, smirking as he felt the pulse of the youngest member of the Mikaelson family growing inside you.
"I'm back!" Hope screamed, stepping behind you with a nervous smile. You raised an eyebrow, while looking at your daughter. Oh, no. You knew that look in her eyes. Klaus had the same gaze as he was about to do... something in Mikaelson's style. "Taking the opportunity... I mean, now that you're reassuring dad. Mom, Dad, I have a boyfriend. His name is Landon, and he's coming to the family dinner on Friday for all of you to meet him. So, bye! I'm going back to school. I love you both!" she said, kissing you both on the cheeks and leaving you both stunned. You burst out laughing at Klaus' shocked, defeated expression.
"Nik? Are you okay?" you asked, still laughing. Your husband's patience really was tested today.
"I told you we should stay in bed today. I knew something bad was about to happen." he growled, giving you a menacing look as you still couldn't stop laughing. You kissed the corner of his lips, a huge smirk still on your face. Klaus rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back his smirk any longer while he was looking at you. The power you hold over him... one your smile was easily changing his mood. Even in situations like this.
"Don't be such dramatic. It's probably better that Hope is dating teens than me, right?"
"Stop it, love." he growled, putting the money on the table. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar.
"Stop what?" you asked, pretending to be innocent as you strolled towards your car.
"Teasing me."
"But it's my favorite part of the day… and we all know you enjoy every ounce of my undivided attention." you replied, stopping both of you in front of the car and putting your hands on his shoulders. You stared at him with a mischievous smirk, playing with his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he leaned against your car.
"You know you're ruining my carefully crafted reputation as the greatest evil in the world?"
"I'm not too concerned about this… how about you?"
His only response was a light chuckle before he kissed you with all his love for you. You smiled, cupping his cheeks and pulling him as close to you as possible. You both loved those moments of peace between the two of you. No witches, vampires, or werewolves wanting your death. Just the two of you in each other's arms, too busy with each other to care about anything else.
"Let's go home, love. Before that bunch of Salvatores come down here with white oak stakes." he hummed tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
He could stare at your beautiful face for hours. Even if it meant dealing with the people who wanted to steal his goddess first. It was worth every effort to hold you in his arms again.
"I don't think we're on the top criminals list anymore. Stefan was recently joking that you had retired. And before you get a seizure in the middle of town, let me say that I didn't talk to him. Hope is friends with Delena's daughter. She might have overheard something."
"The gods must have punished me in some way for my many antics, so they sent me a wife to teach my daughter how to get on my nerves without even trying."
"Oh sweetheart. I love you too." you laughed as you both got into the car to go home.
Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Oh yeah Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na Alright Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na She belongs to me
You were sitting in a rocking chair, holding your newborn son in your arms. The baby finally fell asleep peacefully, and you were afraid to make any move after hours of putting him to sleep. It looks like you'll have to sleep in this chair tonight.
"Rescue you, love?" Klaus' soft whisper tore your gaze from Henric Nikolas Mikaelson.
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid he'll wake up the moment he leaves my arms." Klaus slowly walked over to you, kneeling in front of you and gazing tenderly at the baby you held. "I guess you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that you're going to have to share me with someone else." the man rolled his eyes at the comment about his jealousy. He shifted his gaze to you and gently grabbed your hand, being careful not to let any sudden movement wake his son.
"I'll live with it as long as our kids are the only ones taking you from me."
"You are a very gracious, all-powerful hybrid." he chuckled, making a tired but genuine smile appear on your face. "Save yourself while you still can. I don't think I'm going back to bed tonight." you murmured, looking at the little usurper in your arms.
"Nonsense, you are going with me.." he lifted you from your chair with your soft, startled squeal and held you in his arms, careful not to wake your son. He carried you to the bed, making sure you were comfortable. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and stared at the two of you, spellbound. "You can sleep. I'll keep an eye on you two."
"Remember that your siblings and dad are coming tomorrow. Kol and Davina pick up Hope. And please, for God's sake, don't argue with Kol again about him being Henric's godfather, because we both know you don't want anyone else to take his place."
"Well, we always have Marcel and, God forbid, Finn. Besides, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't torment him every chance I got?" you rolled your eyes, pressing your son to your chest, and used your free hand to grab your husband's hand.
"I just hope you didn't teach our daughter that."
"I'd be surprised if she didn't pick up on our habits herself." he murmured, kissing your hand and watching you fall into a peaceful sleep while holding your son and his hand. Your rings shone in the moonlight on your joined hands.
Yes... you were definitely belongs only to him.
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bumblesimagines · 6 months ago
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no, i've never met you before in my life.
don't give me that look.
we could try being friends.
Sarah Cameron
Pronouns: He/Him/His
CW/TW: Underage drinking, sexual content, cheating
Got carried away with this one🧍🏻‍♀️
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Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, Sarah unscrewed the cap of the flask while her friends huddled around her, subtly attempting to hide the flask from the adults around them. She took a quick swing of it and almost coughed at the burning sensation trickling down her throat before quickly passing the flask off to another friend. 
"Sarah! Come here a second, baby!"
She immediately straightened up at the sound of her father's voice, quickly wiping her lips dry before she spun around with a wide smile full of feigned innocence. Sarah shuffled through the crowd until she reached her father's side, her eyes flickering over to Wheezie questioningly but her little sister merely shrugged in return. "What is it?"
"I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine, sweetheart. We go-" Ward blew a raspberry, a hearty chuckle leaving him. The other two strangers present laughed as well, giving Sarah polite smiles when she glanced their way. "-way back. This is (F/N) and his wife, (M/N). They moved back a few weeks ago with their son, (Y/N). He's about Sarah's age, right?"
"Oh, yes, I think so." (M/N) nodded, dropping her arm from around her husband's waist and looking around the other guests bustling around until she spotted her son and waved him over. "He's currently studying online but it'd be great if you could introduce him to some of your friends, Sarah. Rafe has already been a pleasure showing him around."
Yikes. "Yeah, for sure! It'd be no problem." Sarah nodded, her fingers brushing back some blonde strands swaying with the light breeze passing by. Her attention turned onto the young familiar man who slinked up to stand beside his mother, offering her a quick peck on the temple before he turned to look at the Cameron. She stared at him, lips parted and eyes wide as he shook Ward and Rose's hands, his own body tensing when he finally looked at her. 
"I know you." Sarah blurted out because how on Earth could she forget him? When they'd met she thought he'd been just another touron visiting the island for the summer who'd manage to get invited to a Kook house party. (Y/N). The name rang a bell a little too late. Rose and Ward glanced between the two curiously.
"No, I've never met you before in my life. I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." (Y/N) gave a little forced laugh and she squinted at him, her brows dipping. "But, I'd be happy to get to know you better, Miss Cameron. Maybe while we walk to the dessert table? I've been craving a slice of that cake since I first saw it."
At his words, the adults shared a laugh and chuckles. Ward clapped his hand over (Y/N)'s shoulder a few times, his eyes crinkled with amusement and his lips pulled back into a wide smile. "He's all you, (F/N). Always making a beeline to the desserts everywhere you go!" The adults laughed again, although Rose continued glancing between the two with uncertainty. 
(Y/N) stepped forward and offered Sarah his arm, letting her loop hers around it before the two parted from the adults and made their way through the guests, avoiding those dancing and mingling. Sarah peeked back toward her father and stepmother, ensuring enough distance had been made before she slipped her arm away from his and swatted at his stomach with a scowl.
"Oh, don't give me that look." He huffed and stopped by the dessert table, taking a quick glance over the treats available before looking back at her. "What'd you want me to say? 'Oh, yeah, I know your daughter because we hooked up at a party' doesn't sound great to say to a man you've only met twice. Do you even remember half of what happened?" 
"Of course I do!" 
"So, tell me, Spiderman," Sarah spoke teasingly, bringing the beer bottle back up to her lips and taking a gulp of the last of the liquid swirling around in it. She swallowed and set the bottle down between her crossed legs, her gaze drifting away from the Kooks partying below near and in the pool to look at the teen beside her. "Do you always climb onto the roofs at parties?"
"Sometimes." He grinned, his head tilted back to gaze up at the twinkling stars above them. "It's... nice to take a breather every once in a while. Especially at night when it's too dark for someone to call the cops on you." 
Sarah giggled and tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder and resting over her jean jacket. "Have you ever fallen off?" She asked, glancing at the distance between them and the ground. She was no stranger to climbing on roofs but she'd hardly call it a habit like he did.
"Nah," He clicked his tongue and looked at her. "I know when it's a good idea and when it's not a good idea. But, if I ever did fall, it's all part of the risk of taking adventures. I might break a bone or two but at least I can say I had fun."
"So, you're like... a daredevil?"
"Eh, you'll never catch me jumping out of a plane but climbing a water tower or cliff diving? Been there, done that." (Y/N) shrugged and her brows raised, a soft hum leaving her throat. Sarah ran her thumb over the rim of the bottle, unable to wipe the smile off her lips as the two stared at each other. He was handsome, a fresh face in a sea of people she grew up with, and held a soul for adventure just as she did.
Topper lingered in the back of her mind with his boyish smile and brown curls, but he was... boring, at best. Predictable and almost puppy-like in the way he trailed after her and her brother hoping to get a taste of that Cameron attention. Figure Eight saw it as something big when the Camerons liked someone, like a symbol that person was worth something. It was nice to befriend others easily but Sarah always feared they were after one thing or another. But with new faces who had no idea who she was or how much money her family had? She could be whoever she wanted. 
(Y/N) broke eye contact first, pushing himself off his hands and wiping them on his pants. "Come on, buttercup," He said, lightly patting her hip and carefully pushing himself up onto his feet. He wobbled a bit but caught his balance in no time, his hand dropping down and extending toward her. Sarah held onto it as she got up, her head bowing semi-bashfully when (Y/N) kept a gentle grip on it as they carefully made their way toward the open window. "After you, madam."
"Thank you, kind sir." She laughed, her index finger and thumb tightly wrapped around the neck of the bottle while the others pressed over the top of the window. She stuck her foot in and bent the knee of her other leg, feeling around blindly for the window seat until she felt the top of her sneaker press into the cushion. 
Carefully, Sarah ducked and tightened her grip on his hand as she took a step onto the window seat and fully entered the game room of whoever had hosted the party. Sarah vaguely recognized it from a distant memory of gathering around the pool table with friends and a drink in hand but the memory proved too fuzzy to remember who actually lived in the house. She finally released his hand and hopped down from the window seat, setting the bottle aside and offering her hand in return as he followed in after her. He landed beside her with a louder thump, though the hip-hop song blaring through the speakers downstairs drowned it out. 
"What are you going to do now, Spiderman?" Sarah asked, her veins tingling with the buzz of drinks she'd ingested finally taking effect. She watched him brace his knee on the window seat and tug the window closed, his fingers fiddling with the latch until it locked. "Going back to being Peter Parker for the night? Pretending like you give a shit about any of the people downstairs?"
"Are you talking about me or talking about yourself?" (Y/N) arched a brow at her playfully and stepped back from the window seat, taking a proper look around the dark, barely lit room. She chuckled softly and released a soft hum, unable to deny that while she loved her friends, most of the time she could hardly stand to be around them for more than a few hours. Her teeth dug into the inside of her cheek when he checked the time on his phone. 
"Are you leaving?" She asked quietly, the disappointment surprising her. 
"Maybe," (Y/N) shrugged and stuffed the phone back into his back pocket, raising his head to look back at her. "Might grab another drink or two... see if anyone's started a game of beer pong. If not, you and I could always start one and see how well of a team we make, Gwen Stacy."
"Mm, I don't feel like drinking." She murmured, her head lolling to the side and lips stretching into a coy smile. Nerves danced along with desire, mixing with the buzz and euphoric feeling spreading through her body.
Something about being intimate with someone always frightened her, scared her into drawing away from her boyfriends whenever they tried taking it to the next level. Some were kind about it, others got huffy and annoyed. In the end, she always dropped them before things could fully get serious, even if part of her earned for the closeness of a partner. Her friends always said a one-time thing a stranger would ease things for her, take away the chance of coming face to face with the guy again and having to face the fact she'd allowed herself to be fully vulnerable with someone. 
"And what do you feel like doing, buttercup?" (Y/N) mimicked her, tilting his head to the side as well and giving a knowing grin. She pursed her lips, her fingertips brushing over the rips in her shorts in deliberation. She thought of Topper and how he definitely wouldn't know what he was doing versus cool and relaxed (Y/N) who seemed like the sort of guy you could lose yourself in. 
Without giving it further thought, Sarah stepped forward and reached out, her hands curling around the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. She pressed her lips to his, glad to at least be well-versed in the art of kissing, and dragged her arms around his shoulders. He tasted like beer and the subtle scent of his cologne filled her nose. His hands landed on her waist, fingers lightly digging into her warm skin. They explored her bare stomach and back before his arm curled fully around her waist and his other hand dropped to grasp the back of her thigh and lift her leg. 
Sarah giggled against his lips, a soft squeak following when she found herself backed against the wall by the window. She felt breathless when he pulled away to press messy kisses along the side of her neck, the heat spreading across her face only darting down to her lower belly and gripping her gut like a vice. She gasped and sighed softly, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders and digging her nails into the fabric of it.
Her jean jacket slipped off her shoulders and with a small wiggle, it slipped further down her arms. She moved her arms and heard it flop softly on the floor by her feet, teeth catching her bottom lip when (Y/N) explored the newly exposed skin. Sarah dipped her hands beneath his shirt and ran her palms along his stomach and sides, her back arching slightly off the wall and against him with each delicate drag of his teeth along her shoulder. Definitely the sort of guy you could lose yourself in.
(Y/N)'s finger hooked around the middle of her floral bikini top and gave it a swift tug, the laces undoing with ease and the top falling to the floor alongside the jacket. She shivered, the instinct to cover herself abruptly fading when his lips latched onto one of her hardened and sensitive nubs, a strangled whine drawing from her throat when his hand fondled the other. His leg pushed itself between hers and her hips automatically rolled against his thigh, her head lolling back from the combination of sensations. Goosebumps rose along her skin, hairs raising with each graze of his tongue and teeth against her. 
"(Y/N)," She exhaled and whined again when he hummed, his hand lightly squeezing the delicate mound of flesh as he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to her chest. He chuckled at the sight of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes jumping up to her half-lidded ones. 
"I've got you, buttercup." He pressed a kiss to the tan line on her shoulder, his fingers undoing the button and zipper of her shorts and slowly dragging them down. (Y/N) moved his leg and pushed the shorts further down until they fell past her knees and down to her ankles along with the rest of her clothes, her phone thumping softly against the floor when it slid out of the pocket. 
Sarah's arms slipped around his shoulders again when he grabbed her thighs and lifted her, her brain growing more fuzzy from all the sensations rushing through her body. Her lips dragged along the side of his cheek, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He gently set her down on the edge of the pool table, her legs dangling down the sides and cool wood pressing against the underside of her thighs. She reached again for his shirt and pulled it upward, latching her mouth on his when he finally took it off. 
Her back arched automatically when he cupped her chest again, his thumb running over her perky nipple while her hips grinded down against the wood. Sarah's head tilted back again, strands of her hair beginning to stick to her skin from the sweat forming and soft pants escaping her semi-swollen, spit-slick lips. (Y/N) wrapped his fingers on each side of the laces keeping her bikini bottom fastened to her body and pulled on them, tugging the fabric out from underneath her. Sarah's cheeks flushed at the notable wet patch.
"Lay back." (Y/N) told her and her thighs clenched together, a shaky breath leaving her as she lied back, feeling the green fuzz of the baize beneath her on the pool table rub against the heated skin of her back. She took a deep inhale when (Y/N) pried her legs apart, his hands hooked underneath her knees and holding her legs up.
Sarah gasped, her hands flying down to the top of his head when his tongue pressed flat against her slick folds, the vibration of his chuckle enticing another strangled noise from her. She felt hot and woozy, every lick and suckle sending another wave of heat and pleasure through her body. He released one of her legs to rub his thumb against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, the repetitive action ripping a cry from her throat; luckily muffled by the loud singing and rap song playing through the house. Her back arched off the table, her hips raising and grinding against his face desperately. 
While Sarah had envisioned her first time plenty of times, she'd always ensured to lower her expectations with each story her friends told her about their disappointing first time, most of them warning her to keep her expectations low on guys and them preferring receiving over giving. But (Y/N) seemed to find her reactions amusing, almost purposefully seeking out new ways to get her thighs trembling and voice crying with pleas. Her expectations had certainly raised, as had her standards.
When (Y/N) replaced his thumb with his mouth, the agonizing knot that'd formed snapped suddenly, her hips stuttering and trembling legs instinctively clenching around his shoulders as another cry tore through her. He chuckled again and kept his mouth on her as she rode through her high, the overwhelming feeling leaving her lightheaded and bringing tears to her eyes until he leaned back with wet lips and a soaked chin. 
"You good, buttercup?" He asked teasingly as he wiped his mouth again, his voice dripping with amusement at her heaving form. She swallowed, still reeling and unable to form the proper words to respond. Sarah stared at the ceiling above her until she could form coherent thoughts and slowly pushed herself up onto her hands, her hair brushing along her skin. He tilted his head at her. 
"'m fine." Sarah breathed with a soft laugh, wiping away some drool that'd trickled out the corner of her mouth. She ran a hand through her hair to push it back before leaning forward to kiss him again, groaning lowly when she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Her body pressed against his again, his hands running along her legs and back soothingly. 
She reached down to his jeans, clumsily working on unbuttoning and unzipping them with still trembling hands. (Y/N) hummed against her mouth and pulled back to look down at her hands, a quiet snort escaping him once she finally managed to pop the button and pull the zipper down. His fingers massaged into the fat of her hip, his head lolling to the side and his gaze lifting to meet Sarah's.
"I wasn't expecting to sleep with someone when I got here, Sarah," Somehow, hearing her name rolling off his tongue only made her flush even hotter. "I'm gonna assume you also don't have any condoms stored away either, and I don't think you'd like waiting around for me to find a towel or rag in this big ass house." Sarah internally thanked Rose for being insistent on getting her on birth control the second she entered high school despite the embarrassing conversation that led up to it with her father. 
"I'm on the pill, it'll be fine." Sarah exhaled, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down as far as she could. She swallowed at the sight of his length, her lips pressing together. She'd seen plenty in her life; dumb drawings on buildings and school property, nudes a select few of her friends would show each other and laugh about, among other things. Still, she felt the nervousness return. 
"Buttercup," (Y/N) pulled her attention back to his face, his brows furrowed and head still tilted. "Are you a virgin?"
She pursed her lips, contemplating lying or saying some sort of flimsy reason for her reaction but ultimately, her shoulders sagged and she gave a meek nod. "It-It's not, like... I've had chances, I just... it never felt like the right moment."
"And now it feels right? With a guy you just met? At a house party?" His brows raised with each question and Sarah swallowed again, pushing back some loose strands over her ear and leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Sarah-"
"Yes, it feels right." She murmured, scooting closer to the edge of the table and slipping her legs loosely around his waist, her fingers running along his length and savoring the shudder that ran through him.
Sarah leaned back to look down again, experimenting as she curled her fingers around him and slowly jerked her hand, taking note of each reaction and noise he made. She licked her lips and quickened the pace of her hand with each pump, feeling a hint of pride trickle through her when he groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder. She continued experimenting; squeezing, jerking, and trying different paces while focusing on what earned her more reactions. Sarah grinned when his hips jerked and stuttered, practically beginning to hump into her hand. 
Sucking his teeth, (Y/N) pulled Sarah's hand away and lifted her up and off the table, spinning her around with ease. Sarah blinked, lips parting to question him but a strangled curse left her when (Y/N) pressed against her from behind, pinning her lightly against the pool table. His length pushed between the plushness of her thighs, dragging along her slick folds agonizingly slowly. Her body bent over, her arms bracing against the pool table and her head falling forward with her hair spilling over her face. 
(Y/N) moved his hips slowly, rubbing himself along her thighs and her heat before his hands returned to her hips and pulled her back, only leaving her arms on the table. He drew back and Sarah inhaled, a quiet whine dragging out of her lips when she felt the tip push against her, her mouth falling open as he slowly pushed inside. Her nails dug into her skin, eyes squeezing shut as she felt herself clench instinctively at the intrusion. (Y/N)'s hand ran along her side before cupping her tit again, massaging the flesh gently. 
"Breathe, sweetheart." (Y/N) cooed from behind her, coming to a stop and waiting for her to regain the ability to breathe, only for the air to be pulled from her lungs again when he continued. Her hand fell over his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he continued fondling her chest. The hand on her hip dug into her skin, keeping her steady.
She sighed heavily when he bottomed out, drool dripping from her parted lips that she wiped away once she grew used to the new feeling of being full. "Shit." She whispered when he slowly drew back to the tip, hands planting firmly against the wood of the table and a long, whiny grunt leaving her when he pushed back in, moving slowly while she adjusted once again. 
"Relax," (Y/N) leaned over to peck her shoulder, moving his hand away from her chest and back to her hip, digging his fingers in and slowly moving her hips forward as he drew back before pulling her backward when he drew forward. Sarah's arms trembled, her toes curling in the inside of her shoes and her head tilting back. 
Eventually, the careful pace slowly quickened and Sarah's mind grew jumbled once more, pleas and noises escaping her lips as (Y/N) began snapping his hips in and out of her drooling cunt, the hands on her hips keeping her jelly legs from giving out on her. Her body swayed and jiggled with his movements, the filthy sound of skin slapping together combined with the soft squelch and noises made her skin burst with heat. The knot formed again quickly, each passing second reducing her mind to a mess. 
"(Y/N)!" She cried out in a half-sob when his hand reached down to rub against her clit again, teeth digging into her lip and nearly breaking the skin when the knot burst again and ripped through her; her body practically convulsing and one foot lifting and slamming against the ground repeatedly. 
(Y/N) hardly relented, his arm sliding around her midsection and pulling her back flush against his chest. He mouthed at her neck, his own grunts and huffs muffled against her skin. Sarah raked her nails along his arm, unable to do much else other than release broken noises and incoherent babbling while he chased his own high in thursts that began turning sloppy. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, squirming at the feeling of him pulsing inside her before she released a gasp at the feeling of him pushing deep inside, the both of them nearly staggering when he released. 
"Jesus," (Y/N) murmured, stepping back with uneven breathing and slumping down on the window seat before they could fall. Sarah went limp against him, running her fingers over the scratch marks on his skin apologetically and tilting her head to peer downward. Desire tightened around her gut at the sight of his release oozing out of her slightly, releasing a shaky sigh. She certainly wouldn't forget him. 
"I remember everything," Sarah told him, thankful her long flowy dress hid the way her thighs clenched together involuntarily. She inhaled deeply and snatched a strawberry from a tray, dipping it under the chocolate fountain before biting into it to distract herself from her vivid memories. "You could have said we met at a party or something!" 
"Not a good first impression either," (Y/N) muttered under his breath, grabbing a small golden plate and getting himself a few sweets. 
"Why didn't you mention you moved here? And my brother's been showing you around this whole time?"
"He invited me to that party in the first place, Sarah. I knew he had two younger sisters but he never said their names or described them. Besides, you never mentioned your last name and this place is packed with rich white girls who vaguely look like Rafe." (Y/N) huffed again, taking a bite out of a brownie and glancing over his shoulder toward their parents. "I never said anything about visiting. You made an assumption." 
"An assumption you never bothered to clarify!"
"Okay, look," (Y/N) sighed. "We could try being friends or we pretend it never happened-"
"Oh, is that what you do with all the girls whose virginity you take?" Sarah dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "You 'pretend it never happened' to avoid talking about it?"
"For the record, I was fine with not going all the way. No, I don't go around sleeping with virgins, Sarah. The only other virgin I've slept with is the one I lost my own virginity to and she's still my fucking girlfriend." (Y/N) snapped in an equally harsh whisper, shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth and swallowing it down with a drink. Sarah blinked at him, her jaw going slack.
"You have a girlfriend?"
"And you have a boyfriend. So, I'd say we're in agreement on pretending it never happened, yeah?"
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cowboyjen68 · 1 year ago
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Hi!!
I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.
I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).
But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.
Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.
I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.
Is this strange?
ps love u and ur blog lots xx
This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.
I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)
Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.
When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.
When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.
I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.
Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.
You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.
Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.
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howlingday · 11 months ago
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Talk about dark. Well, what if Jaune has his ways of accidentally swooning older women? I'm talking about Glynda, Cinder, Sienna, etc. Like if he tries it on Weiss, she scoffed. But to other MILFs, they'd be over the moon.
My apologies for not delivering a satisfactory product. Let's shift to something more lighthearted this time.
--------------------------------------------
Weiss: Excuse me?
Jaune: Uh, I said I see you got your good looks from your mom.
Weiss: And that was your attempt at wooing me?
Jaune: Um-
Weiss: You are beyond pathetic. (Leaves)
Jaune: ...Yeah, that was kind of a dumb plan.
--------------------------------------------
Jaune: Mrs. Schnee, I can see where Weiss gets her angelic features from, and it's definitely not her father.
Willow: (Blushing) O-Oh my, um... Th-Thank you, Mr. Arc. And please, call me Willow.
Jaune: Only if you call me Jaune.
Willow: Ohoho! You are too much, Jaune~!
Weiss: (Hissing) What the hell are you doing?
Jaune: (Whispering) I'm being friendly!
Weiss: Well, stop it! The last thing I need in my family is a scandal involving my mother and someone old enough to date her daughter!
Jaune: Sorry! I'll dial it back!
--------------------------------------------
Ruby: Wait, how old are you?
Cinder: Excuse me?
Ruby: You look kind of old to be attending the academies, aren't you?
Cinder: D-Do I? Oh, well, I didn't think I looked so old.
Jaune: Not really that you look old, just more... mature. Like a woman who's seen a lot more in life. Someone with experience, wisdom, and everything else that only gets better with age.
Cinder: (Flushed) W-Well, I... Excuse me, I have some... business... to... do. (Runs away)
Ruby: (Sighs) Thanks for the save, Jaune.
Jaune: Any time, Ruby. My mom says I've got a knack for saying the right things at the weirdest times.
Ruby: Amen to that.
Cinder: (Around the corner, Hand on heart) What was that? I've never felt so... admired... and not in a way I was prepared for!
--------------------------------------------
Jaune: Oh, uh, sorry, Professor Goodwitch! I didn't recognize you for a second.
Goodwitch: Yes, yes, I'm aware that time has worn on me. It's still rude to stare, Mr. Arc.
Jaune: Oh, no, I-I didn't mean that! I just meant that I didn't recognize you because of how different you look. Like, I remember you used to wear glasses and had your hair tied up.
Goodwitch: Because I was the deputy headmistress, yes. And I still wear those as the headmistress. I'm simply out on errands at the moment.
Jaune: Oh, well, for what it's worth, Professor, I think you look a lot better with your hair down and your glasses off.
Goodwitch: (Pink cheek) Khm. Yes. Well, it has been years since you left Beacon, so I am no longer your Professor. So please, refer to me as... Glynda... outside of Beacon.
Jaune: Oh, uh, sure thing, Pro- I mean, Glynda.
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kurosstuff · 10 months ago
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HIII I was the one who requested the Lute fic and I absolutely loved it!!! I was wondering if I could request again, this time could it be a Carmilla x Reader, where she ( and her daughters ) gets redeemed and when they get to heaven they find reader who is Carmilla’s spouse ( GN! Or Male reader please ) and they realize that reader doesn’t recognize them because those who go to heaven don’t remember those who went to hell, just a lot of angst hehe
( again if you aren’t comfy doing this it’s alr ^^ !! Thank you !! )
I've never written her before I hope I did her good?♡
Also! I do only write GN! or female reader(can't write male readers I'm sorry♡)
Also what's her daughters names? I looked ut up and I'm getting like a mix of answers so their names aren't stated csuse of it
But♡ hope you dont mind how angsty I made it with? A twist♡♡
Carmilla x reader: Heaven *cruel* rule.
Carmilla didn't see herself as a angel. She's a demon for fucks sake yet- the ones more deserving to be redeemed were her daughters. But they only entertained it if she would.
So like any good mother? She joined them. Not wanting her daughters to be left behind. Wanting to ensure their safety. She trusted Charlie enough but her trust doesn't include.. the odd bunch she allowed to be helpers to the sinners on the path to be "winners"
She truly thought the dream was just that. A dream. Nothing more then just a childish wish Charlie had but here she was in heaven. Her girls in the rightful place- smiling she glanced down at her gold ring.
Maybe she'll see you- her love once again? In the only rightful place you should be in.
Heaven
She smiled at the thought.
Carmilla fidgeted something felt.. off today as she walked around heaven. Her daughters are not long behind her, holding her dress in nerves. Humming seemed they also felt the same. "My daughters~ don't worry were safe now, ok?" Her new bright wings fidgeting still uncomfortable at the new feeling looking up she froze - seeing the angel - her love - the spouse she had in the living world before she was stripped away from them in death. A bright smile came onto her face seeing you- healthy- happy.
-
Turns out Heaven? Does have rules
Alot
Humming going through a book of rules Carmilla was so close to just giving *up* trying to find another angel was JUST as difficult with all the rules added to it. How there's a wait list but.
No one under Carmine other then her and her daughters were anywhere was there stated of another person. Frowning closing the book. Sighing, she stood up, stopping to smile at one of her daughter
"Did.. you find them, mother?" Smiling sadly, she walked to her, holding her hands out, pulling her into her arms. Her wings automatically curling around her daughter as a cocoon as if? To protect her
"Not yet, my daughter.. but I will"
-
"Mama- is that-" her eldest asked, whispering out watching her parent. The one she and her sister sobbed for years seeing them not with in the afterlife. But seeing you in heaven? She couldn't help but be glad you were in such a safe place.
As if sensing someone looking, you turned seeing the three newcomers moving to walk up to them to the strangers
"There you are my lo-"
"hi~ I'm glad you made it in heaven~ what's your names? I'm sure there's helper angels for new angels~" you cut off Carmilla accidentally pulling out a almost scroll looking thing "sorry I'm well aware in hell some technology is more advanced and all but~ in heaven some things like this? The council loves the old feel~" humming
Blinking, she tilted her head now. Confused? Why weren't you throwing yourself in her arms? Not calling her your love? Your wife? Bile reached the back of her throat and now an unnerving feeling. That something? Is very, very wrong here
"Do you not know me?"
That made you stop looking up at her, slowly tilting your head in thought, "..no I'm sorry, I don't believe we ever met~" before she or her daughters could ask more a voice called out- making a huge smile appear on your face the same one you used to give her- her blood ran cold.
A beautiful woman stepped out of a house holding what looked like a child. Blinking, she watched as she walked to you, kissing you gently happily humming. She finally realized. The lack of a ring on your finger- well you did have a gold band. But not your band. Not the one you wore during your marriage. Not the one that matches hers.
"I'm sorry, my friends~ My wife needs me for a moment~" Do you need any more help?" After handing her the letter with the angels name to help her and her daughters - gently wrapping her arms around them, pulling them close, sensing how upset they were rightfully so.
"..m-may I ask what the little ones' name is?" Voice breaking, making you smile, grinning looking over at her "her names Carmilla~ I don't know why, but.. the name felt very important~" Purring out kissing the child's head gently making her close her eyes nodding
Turning she guided her daughters away from her lover- her now ex lover. Not stopping until they all reached their new home. Pulling them close sobbing along with them "did they abandon us?" In her tearfully state she didn't know who asked bur she was quick to shut that idea down kissing her daughters heads
"No, no- they'd never - not in a million centuries... heaven.. heaven makes angels forget demons. It's a cruel thing.. that I forgot about - im- I'm so sorry. " Holding them closer, sobbing loudly with them until they passed out from exhaustion looking out the window tearfully sorrowful. Like the day she lost you- she lost you permanently.
She couldn't WOULDN'T tell you. It'd be wrong. Even though she wishes to kiss you. Have you in her arms once more. She wouldn't do that to you. Or your wife. Especially with your child. Its none of your faults for the law of heaven and hell. But - she couldn't help but think. If she wasn't such a horrid woman in the living. Didn't get her daughters involved? Would she have gone to Heaven with you?
Would that child be hers?
It was a cruel, sick thought she quickly took away. Looking down disgusted with herself. She sighed
"I hope your.. happy my love" she whsipering rubbing the band on her finger. She needed time. Then she'll finally take it off. Closing her eyes she sighed.
Love is.. painful.
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breaking-binary-system · 6 months ago
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So, especially with it being disability pride month, I've noticed something more and more: A lot of people, disabled and able-bodied, give a TON of hate to us ambulatory wheelchair users. So, I decided fuck it let me tell people a story about one.
There was this boy. He grew up with a disabled father and a mother who had a ton of chronic pain. He could see the effects. By the time this boy was 5, his father walked full time on a cane.
When he turned 11, he started suffering from severe debilitating leg pain. To the point he would miss school for days and would spend all day every day sobbing his eyes out from how severe it took, even after taking the max amount of ibuprofen and Tylenol he could. He eventually got into seeing a rheumatologist out of fear it was something rheumatology related.
For 6 years, the boy was constantly in pain and the most he would get told is "well your double jointed that's why you have this much pain, just go do physical therapy". That never helped him. When he turned 17, everything changed.
He went to go see a different doctor at this office, one he had to wait years for since she saw adults and, well, 17 was just close enough to be tolerated. She looked at his blood tests and did a physical and came to a realization.
"It's not that you're double jointed, you have rheumatoid arthritis. It's why your shoulders grind, they lack cartilage now from years of this disorder. Let's do our best to treat it"
That started a year's worth of trial and error before she finally decided to give the boy an immunosuppressant that had worked for his father who also had the disorder. He wasn't cured but, quickly, his symptoms started to go away more and more.
This boy, from the age of 15 on, had to use mobility aids frequently if not all the time. It started with a simple cane and while it helped, his hands couldn't take the pressure on his nerves. So, he tried a walker. And that helped too. Forearm crutches were best to get him still able to have some ability to walk. He found something that made his life a lot easier however.
His grandfather had a multitude of issues, many of which required him to have a wheelchair before he passed. So, his grandfather made it known that any mobility aids the boys father didn't use, the boy was more than welcome to have. So, he decided one day to try and use the wheelchair.
Suddenly things were so much easier. He couldn't walk all the time yes and he didn't need the chair 24/7 but it meant that when his POTS was acting up or he was in a arthritis flare up, he could use a wheelchair and still be mobile. It changed his life. However he wasn't free from shame and hate on how he shouldn't use one.
He was told repeatedly it wasn't that bad and he was being dramatic and was taking away from people who actually needed them. This boy was 18. He had a disorder that was seen as an "old person" disorder. His body was literally attacking itself. And here was a ton of people attacking him for needing a wheelchair or, if he was in a store with them, a mobility scooter.
This boy took months of steady therapy to be willing to even go in public with the wheelchair again. A lot of it took support from his boyfriend and his father who encouraged him and reminded him that it was OKAY to use a mobility aid, even if he didn't need it 24/7.
If you haven't caught on now don't worry, I'll just say it. I am that boy. I still need reminders from my boyfriend or my father that it's okay to need my wheelchair and I'm not stealing anything, my body has day's of different intensities. Take today.
I thought all I would need is forearm crutches and I'm typing this in my wheelchair and I feel a lot better now that I've used it since, due to the fact this chair is meant to be sat in for someone with a disability not just a regular every day chair, my legs are feeling a shit ton better.
My left knee has been in an awful flare up for about a month and a half at this point. Today it got unbearable so I just sat in the wheelchair my dad keeps at his job for me. I can move now without wanting to cry.
This is a really long post and I'm not entirely sure why i started it to be honest, blame the whole "oh yeah I have a CDD" and the fact that, well, I've been diagnosed with ADHD, specifically attention deficit part.
Something I wanna end this long post on. Don't think just because you saw someone walking yesterday or even 10 minutes ago and now they're in a wheelchair that they're faking or something. Shit can change in a matter of MINUTES.
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hightwers · 1 year ago
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ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT ─── DBF! DILF!ANAKIN SKYWALKER
summary: dad's been friends with anakin forever, of course you've always had a crush on him, who wouldn't, i mean, look at him. and yeah, guys your age are fine, but maybe you just need someone... older. warnings: age gaps ( reader is 18+ ), unprotected sex ( wrap it up before you tap it ! ) mentions of handjobs, mentions of blowjobs, p in v sex, pussy eating, fingering, inappropriate relationships and minors dni; ageless blogs will be blocked.
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it was her first summer she didn't go to her mother's; and this had been premeditated, of course. this was the first year she was old enough for her dad's best friend anakin. to be truthful, she'd always noticed that the girls he brought around were always a little young.
younger than him, much younger than him. not that anakin was old, but he had always had a taste for younger girls, kept him young is what he said.
the minute she stepped onto her dad's back patio, anakin let out a wolf whistle. "there she is, lady of the hour," he teases as he takes a sip from the glass bottle of beer in front of him.
"hardly a lady," her father scoffed. "she's got all the boys at school wrapped around her finger,"
anakin laughs. "do you really, cupcake?"
she rolls her eyes. "can't call me that, i've grown," she replies with a grin.
anakin rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. its darker now, she can only assume he's dyed it because of his age. "i'm sure you have, sweetheart," he shoots back almost instantly.
anakin rakes his eyes over her frame and lands on the shorts, showing off her legs, nice and thick in all the right places. "those boys, eh?" he asks teasingly.
she shrugs. "nothing serious, just... a distraction," she says as her father hands her a glass of iced tea as she plopped down onto the chair in between her father and anakin.
anakin raises an eyebrow. "what about the sucker from new years?" he asks.
she shrugs. "too serious, too young," she responds as she looks up at him and bit her lip.
there it was. anakin knew this all too well. when a girl would approach him, they all did this thing.
they all looked up at him from underneath their eyelashes and bite their lips.
and most times, they ended up with their hands around his cock or with their lips wrapped around his cock, in no particular order.
he fights the urge to groan and he glances at her. "too young? what are you? a cougar?" he teases.
"oh please, you aren't any better, i remember all the pretty girls." she reminds him. "so young, older than me but still young, what was the last one? kira? maiah? avery?" she asks.
"you're not funny," he shoots back and his eyes flit to her father sitting next to them before leaning down and whispering in her ear, "keep this up, and i'll fuck that attitude out of you,"
something inside her shifts and she swallows the lump in her throat; he notices and he lets out a low laugh. "oh you'd like that, huh, sweetheart?" he asks softly.
she bit her lip. "no," she said before looking at her dad and looking back at anakin. "you shouldn't say these things, he could hear you,"
"please sweetheart, most times he just talks into a stupor, he'd never notice a thing, you could be sucking me off and man will be still talking a mile a minute,"
she crossed her legs, attempting to relieve the building coil in her being. "anakin," she warned him.
they turn their heads to look at her father, talking to himself and not having a care in the world. "hey dad," she says.
her father glances at her. "hmm?"
"I'm driving anakin to the store, he uh needs a new pack of cigarettes,"
he waves them off and she dashes into the house with anakin in tow.
he shuts the door behind her and she bolted towards the hallway, anakin chasing her and pinning her against the wall. "someone needs an attitude adjustment," he murmurs in her ear. "talking about all my girls, and yet, you act like them,"
she glances at him. "as if you could ever pull another girl my age," she shot back. "you're getting old,"
he runs his tongue along the inside of his lip. "say that again sweetheart,"
"you're getting old," she says again, more force behind her voice. "nobody's gonna want you,"
he grabs her hair, tugging it so her head tilts back, his free hand snaking down her body, grazing the skin of her navel. "these shorts of yours, they're a little short, you walk around like this on campus? looking like a slut?"
something inside her melts at his touch and she shakes her head. "oh no? you get fucked good by those boys at that college?" he asks as his fingers dip into her shorts, caressing her pearl through her panties.
a small breathy moan escapes her lips and he chuckles. "look at you, sweet girl, all needy for me,"
he pauses his ministrations before glancing at her, sinking to his knees, "i bet you're pretty down here too," he murmurs, swiping a stripe between her thighs with his fingers.
her back arched against the wall and he pressed his free hand against her navel, stilling her, "christ, you're soaked and i've barely even touched you," he teased as he tugged the shorts down her thighs, ignoring how she shivered as the cool air grazes her skin.
he pockets her thong, his fingers swiping at her arousal between her thighs, rubbing the slick mound, spreading her slick, the pads of his fingers teasing against her folds and his thumb rubbing at her pearl. he presses his lips together and glanced at her, "i bet you taste good too," he whispers as he pressed a kiss to her pussy.
she let out a soft moan, his tongue flicking at her clit, he devours her, licking and nipping in all the right places, teasing her, making sure his tongue left no crevice unexplored.
she'd heard the stories from girls in her hall of how anakin skywalker ate pussy like a man starved, she just never expected to be the one writhing on his tongue with his nose bumping against her clit, providing a delicious amount of friction.
he licks, sucks, and swirls his tongue around her clit, his fingers buried deep inside her as they work in tandem, his fingers matching the pace of his tongue, each drag of his fingers against her walls sent a new wave of pleasure through her being.
she burns everywhere he touches and she burns everywhere he doesn't. at a particular nip on her clit, she bursts on his tongue, her juices coating his lips, and he pulled away from her, wiping at his mouth with the tattoo sleeve.
fuck. if she hadn't just cum, she would've done it again with how he seemed unbothered as her juices dripped down his lips, down his throat, and onto his chest.
he tugged down his pants and gave his cock, a couple of rough strokes, before glancing at her. "said i'd fuck the attitude outta you, didn't i sweetheart?"
he grips her hips, guiding himself in between her legs, letting out a low hiss when he enters her tight pussy. "fuck, you're tight," he mutters as he begins to move.
she glances at him as he begins to move, her fingers digging into his back, clawing at his back, her lips omitting a string of slurred curse words with his name falling off her lips as if it were a prayer.
"god," she moans and he shakes his head.
"no, god can't help you now sweetheart," he murmurs, gripping her tighter as he moves deeper into her, placing her hand on her navel as he thrusts deep into her cervix, a small bulge forming in her belly.
"see that? feel that?" he asks softly. "that's how deep i am, sweetheart, gonna fill you up so good, you'll never think about fucking one of those little boys,"
she cries out and its enough to push them both over the edge, spilling his seed into her, her fingers tangling in his hair and tugging it roughly as he buried his face in her neck as he came.
"good girl," he whispers against her slick skin. "all you needed was an attitude adjustment,"
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author's note: c'est saia, heyyy. so this took me a while but it was based off a joke i made on my friend bel's (ioveanakin on tiktok ) tiktok edit. but what did we think?? i don't think i'll continue teacher's pet as i lost inspiration for it. but what do we think about dad's best friend anakin?? let me know!!
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laswells-ashtray · 6 days ago
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Okay, here me out on this. Gonna do this anonymously cause social anxiety is scary and I've never left an ask before, first time for everything I suppose. :')
I was randomly just watching the missions for MW3 cause I loved the concepts of some of them, just hated how most of it played out (Like how did Graves survive being blown up? Or how it felt like the story was rushed at points). Then I remembered the mission where Price got trapped in that silo thingy with the poisonous gas stuff that I cannot remember for the life of me what it is called (Think the mission was called Reactor,if you wanted to look it up if I don't explain it that well). Loved that mission cause to me it showed that Price wasn't this almighty powerful captain that doesn't get injured that badly compared to everyone else in 141.
Had a random thought of just the in-between part of when Price passed out to when he woke up on the helo. Was scrolling through the random posts and when I got to the one where Mac had met Price's team and stuff all I could think about was what if Gaz or Soap or anyone who's met Mac just tell Nik or Laswell to call for grandpa. I find it hilarious just the thought of Price's subordinates panicking over the fact that their captain, (and practically father figure sometimes due to how often he mother hens them), had inhaled poisonous gas then passed out and wanted help from someone who's known Price for years. Then cue Mac just showing up on base in Price's office or calling Price really late at night being like "You have 5 seconds to explain what happened and how in the world you got into that situation Mister. I do not care that you're a captain now I still hold seniority over you Price, I will pull that card you little shit." Cause despite the fact that Price was a pain in the ass when he was Mac's sergeant he still cares for the stubborn Brit's wellbeing.
Sorry if I started ranting, I love cod and finding the posts have made me do my happy stims. :) Especially reading the silly ones, always makes me feel better when having a bad day.
Made me get my glasses for this one, in a good way I'm just blind as shit. A little bit. Also never apologise for ranting, this is a safe place for ranting, rambling and threats of bodily harm but only if they're polite about it.
Firstly, I know exactly what mission you're talking about because I can't get past the second juggernaut and had to rage quit because I was giving myself a stress headache.
Secondly. I've missed writing more Mac if only because I have to write so English-ly for everyone else.
When the door opens, John doesn't look up. He assumes it's Nikolai coming to check on him, Ghost popping his head in to call him a twat again or one of the sergeants asking how he's doing. He doesn't expect to see the same, worn soles of some battered old boots that he's been trying to convince Mac to get rid of for over ten years park themselves on his desk.
Nor does he expect to see Mac watching him, arms crossed over his chest, and a look of blatant fury on his face that makes the hair on the back of John's neck stand up.
His chest is still tight and there's a familiar ache in his throat, he's too old to be getting fucking gassed anymore. Whatever cancer he'll be riddled with in ten years is not worth it.
"Well?"
He isn't stupid enough to answer that, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. If Mac didn't look ready to deck him, he'd likely be lecturing John about "uncooked joints on the table".
"Jus no gonnae say a fucking hing tae me? Dae a luk like a store dug?"
He groans and ignores the rattling behind his ribs, running a hand over his face as he prays that maybe, just maybe Mac will go easy on him.
"What have you been told?"
He doesn't bother asking "and by who?" because he doesn't want to be annoyed at any of them, and it was likely Kate.
"Ye inhaled a fuck ton ae somehin ye shouldnae 've and a hud to hear about it fae someday else."
He nods, looking at the older man wearily. "That's about it, didn't think you'd need a play-by-play."
Mac lowers his feet off of the edge of the desk and drags his chair closer to the desk with a grating scraping noise that makes john wince.
"Right, lad. Genuine question, are ye a fuckin tit?"
It appears to be just that, a genuine question if the way Mac is arching a brow at him means anything. The Scot doesn't allow him the opportunity to answer before talking again.
"Ye must be, cuz we both ken launchin heed first intae somethin filt wae somehin that mangles ye is some biblical arsehole-ity, John."
John briefly considers slamming his head on the desk. It'd do no good to explain that it was for the mission, Mac would probably just skelp him over the back of the head for implying that wasn't something the retiree already knew.
"You did worse back in the day."
MacMillan only narrows his eyes at him, clenching his hands into fists on his lap.
"Dae ye take me as a gid fuckin example wae these things, son?"
John shakes his head, staring down at the desk in front of him.
"Swear tae fuck, ye pull a stupid stunt like that again and a'll huv yer fucking knees wae a crowbar. Christ, is yer self-preservation that far oot the fuckin windae?"
That has John looking back up at him through narrowed eyes, everyone kept jumping down his throat about it as if they wouldn't have all done the same for the sake of a mission. It was part of the job.
Mac slams his hand down on the edge of the desk, irritation washing over his face in waves.
"Dinnae fuckin luk at me like that, crabbit wee git. A get tae rip intae ye fir stupid shite like this or did ye forget that? The fuckin heart attacks ye put me through fir years and ye huvnae changed a bit? Ye canne be dain that tae every, ye might act like an ignorant arse but ye've got folk aroon here that actually don't like the thought ae attending yer fuckin funeral, ye daft cunt."
Maybe the older man can see the exhaustion that's settled in John's bones, wearing him away from the inside out. Or maybe this is just how MacMillan felt years ago, it might just be an inherited trait that presents itself alongside the captain title.
"Get tae bed, son. We're talkin aboot this the morra. And tea wae lemon fir yer throat, ye sound like ye've been gargling shrapnel."
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