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The Water Outlaws by S. L. Huang
Mountain outlaws on the margins of society, the Bandits of Liangshan proclaim a belief in justice—for women, for the downtrodden, for progressive thinkers a corrupt Empire would imprison or destroy. They’re also murderers, thieves, smugglers, and cutthroats. Together, they could bring down an empire.
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Somewhere Beyond the Sea by TJ Klune
The long-awaited sequel to The House in the Cerulean Sea is a story of resistance, lovingly told, about the daunting experience of fighting for the life you want to live and doing the work to keep it. Welcome back to Marsyas Island—home to six magical and purportedly dangerous children. This is Arthur’s story.
The West Passage by @jpechacek
When the Guardian of the West Passage dies in her bed, the women of Grey Tower feed her to the crows and go back to their chores. No successor is named, and no hand takes up the fallen blade, so the West Passage—the ancient byways of the beast—goes unguarded. This is a weird and delightful journey across a deliriously medieval landscape where decay thrives in abundance and giant Ladies rule a palace the size of a city.
Blood Debts by Terry J. Benton-Walker
On the thirtieth anniversary of the largest magical massacre in New Orleans history, Clement and Cristina Trudeau mourn their father and care for their sick mother. But their mother isn’t sick, they learn: She’s cursed. Cursed by a member of the same magic council over which she used to preside. Cursed by someone who will come for Clement and Cristina next.
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Bury Your Gays by @drchucktingle
After so many years, Misha’s big Oscar moment is here. All he has to do? Kill off the gay characters in his long-running streaming series, “for the algorithm.” Misha refuses, but that’s hardly the end, because monsters from his old horror movie days have begun to step out from the silver screen and stalk him.
The Brides of High Hill by Nghi Vo
The Cleric Chih accompanies a young bride to her wedding to Lord Guo, the aging ruler of a crumbling estate, but amid the elaborate courtesies and extravagant banquets, they realize something haunts the shadowed halls. As the big night nears close, Chih will learn that not all monsters dwell in shadows; some hide in plain sight.
Remedial Magic by Melissa Marr
1) An unassuming librarian falls in love with a powerful witch.
2) Previous librarian discovers she too is a witch…
3) …and that she must attend magical community college to learn how to save her new world from annihilation.
Swordcrossed by @fahye
Part-time con artist / full-time charming menace Luca Piere didn’t expect to get blackmailed into teaching a chronically responsible merchant Matti how to wield a sword. He also didn’t expect to find his charge so inconveniently handsome, or to get so entangled in his tale of intrigue, sabotage, and matrimony.
It’s important to read Swordcrossed because while you’re reading gay fiction, you can also study the blade.
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pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader
author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story and english is not my first language :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.
summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…
warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.
Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.
Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.
He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.
Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.
He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.
Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.
Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.
The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.
He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.
Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.
And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.
————————————————————————
It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.
So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.
You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.
“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.
“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”
He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.
“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.
“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.
He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.
“You know you can, bunny.”
Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.
“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.
“Yeah, sure.”
You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.
“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”
“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”
You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.
Jesus.
“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.
With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.
Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.
————————————————————————-
You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.
Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.
“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.
You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.
You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.
Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.
It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.
Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.
You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.
With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.
Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.
“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.
You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.
“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.
The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.
“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.
As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.
After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?
Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?
Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.
With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.
“Fuck.”
Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.
The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.
“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.
“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.
“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.
The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.
His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”
He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.
You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.
“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.
When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.
“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.
“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.
You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.
A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.
“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.
Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.
You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”
“Hm.”
He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.
“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”
Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.
You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”
He says nothing, and that worries you even more.
Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.
“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.
“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.
He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.
“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”
His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I don’t know…”
“What were you thinking about?”
You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.
“What?”
“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.
A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.
“Y/n”
You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.
“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”
Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.
Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.
“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”
“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.
You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.
“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.
“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.
“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”
You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.
“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.
“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.
His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.
“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."
He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.
“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”
“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.
He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.
Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.
Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.
“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.
He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.
“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.
He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.
“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.
You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.
“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”
You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.
While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.
Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.
“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.
“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.
You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.
When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.
“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.
“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.
“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.
You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.
“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”
The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.
Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.
How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.
Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.
Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.
“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.
When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.
“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.
Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.
Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.
He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"It's so big..."
"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.
You shake your head timidly.
"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"
"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.
"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.
"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."
He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.
"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.
"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.
"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."
He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.
"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.
You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.
Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.
He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.
"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.
He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.
As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.
"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.
"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.
“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”
His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.
“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.
He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.
The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.
Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.
“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.
“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.
He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.
“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”
You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.
“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.
When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.
Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.
“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.
“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”
Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.
“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.
“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”
“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”
Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.
“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.
The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.
“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.
With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.
You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.
“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”
You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.
“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.
“I… I’ve never done that before.”
“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.
“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.
He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.
You whine and he stops, looking back at you.
“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”
You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.
Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.
Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.
Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”
“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?
He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.
You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.
He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”
You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”
“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.
Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”
You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?
“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.
When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton imagine#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#lh44#lh44 x reader
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How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?
what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family
series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !
if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.
let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.
the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.
he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.
that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.
if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.
if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.
your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.
bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.
that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.
you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.
and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.
spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.
he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.
you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.
your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.
whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.
your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.
your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.
criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.
now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.
barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!
well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.
... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.
it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.
then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.
tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.
if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.
you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.
at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.
he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.
it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.
tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.
bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.
though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.
it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.
jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.
at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!
jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.
he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.
hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.
you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.
jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.
he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not
you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—
"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.
once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.
he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.
once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.
the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.
dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.
that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.
his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to
his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.
but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.
not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.
he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.
and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.
damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.
so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.
he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.
after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.
eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.
the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!
stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that
due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.
her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.
so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.
but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!
see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...
it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.
so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.
don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.
after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!
cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.
you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.
she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.
you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.
cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.
a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.
and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.
unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.
yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.
cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.
whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.
cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.
then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.
duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.
like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.
but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.
you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?
so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.
'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?
at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!
little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.
but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.
so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.
#🌷... yael's works#🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again#yandere batman#yandere dc#dc asks#yandere batfam#yandere batboys#yandere duke thomas#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere barbara gordon#yandere stephanie brown#yandere cassandra cain#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#platonic yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenario#yandere scenarios
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Hellooo!! literally love your works, can i have ‘Banana & Chocolate muffins’ ‘Red velvet cupcakes’ and ‘mince pie’ with a side of ‘bubble tea’ for either Carlos Sainz or Toto Wolff!
Love your works btw! absolutely loving the bakery!🫶🫶❤️
bakery menu
want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of items to choose from and i hope you find something that you like! i love going through these requests and ya'll are some hungry rabbits! so thank you! and enjoy! for this one i chose toto wolff (because i am a slut for toto wolff), but if you really want a carlos fic, feel free to submit another order! thank you and enjoy!!
banana & chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + red velvet cupcakes ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, jealous!toto, age gap (20s/50s), daddy kink, daddy dom relationship, mean!toto, dirty talk/degrading language, wife!reader
jealousy was an ugly thing. toto wolff thought he was too old to be jealous. after everything he had and had done, there was no need to be jealous. he was a powerful in the world of formula one, most men would kill, lie and steal for power he had.
so why be jealous anything? most were jealous of him. for his status, his accomplishments, his looks. even into his fifties he could make a young buck feel envy. he even had the prettiest little wife in the entire world. nothing should be toto wolff jealous.
but jealousy doesn't run on logic does it?
you had taken a keen interest in formula one after you got married to toto. you thought it was important that you understood on a deeper level. this was your husband's entire world! of course you should be at least a little interested in what the world was about!
but it felt so silly asking questions to your husband. especially when you asked the same questions a few times over (the sport was a little confusing... what do you mean there are four kinds of tires? and what did they all do again?). so you confided in one of your husband's best drivers, george. it also helped that you two were closer in age.
"toto is looking at us." george said as you sat with him before the race. the rest of mercedes was bustling around you two, but you could clearly see your husband. it didn't help that he was often a head taller than most.
you smiled and waved at him, "he's probably checking in on you. you have to start racing soon."
george wasn't too sure. he looked at his boss before he looked back at you, "usually he doesn't look at me like a disappointment father..." he didn't want to think too hard about the age gap between you and toto. he thought you were nice and liked you and he liked working under toto, so he didn't want to get involved.
toto came over and sat down beside you, leaving you in between him and george. he stretched an arm across the back of the couch you were all on and crossed one leg over the other.
he leaned into your personal space like he owned it, but instead of looking at his wife. he looked at his driver, "you're on soon. head to the garage."
george knew when it was time to high tail it. he wasn't a dense man. he nodded and got up. he looked at you, "i'll see you after."
you waved as you leaned up against your larger husband, "good luck! win for us today!" then gave a smile that would make the sun jealous. just like your husband was jealous of george occupying your attention.
once he was out of sight, you turned to toto and placed a manicured hand on his chest and leaned up to him. you maintained eye contact, "i was having an engaging conversation."
toto gave a short chuckle then leaned into your ear. his presence was overwhelming. the warmth and smell of him overtook your senses. you clutched onto him as he spoke in your ear, "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them." the daddy-little dynamic you started with never truly went away with marriage.
you cheeks felt warm as you looked at him, "daddy..." testing the waters of what this could mean. were you dealing with the daddy dom you dealt with for years or the husband you had been married to for a few months now.
he leaned in and rubbed his thumb against your cheek. the calloused pad of his thumb made you run a little hotter. oh, he was jealous. maybe getting involved with an older man who had a jealous streak like the grey in his hair, but you couldn't help but grow a little hotter. even in front of all these people.
in fairness, when people saw the both of you together. the age difference, the size difference, the differences in aesthetics. it was very obvious that he took a more leading role in the relationship. and you with that shiny pink lip gloss and fluttering eyelashes were just happy to be there.
so toto's large hand on your thigh made it appear small as he said, "you're always so good for me, schatzi. my perfect wife. don't make me worried."
you giggled, "i was right. you are jealous."
he simply replied, "i'm not jealous." and you knew that tonight in the hotel room was going to be interesting. you watched him get up, even making a small grunting noise either due to the dull ache in his knee or the hard on in his pants.
during the race, you sat pretty in the back. your curious eyes scanned the screens as hamilton and russell fought their way across the track. there was a lot you needed to know. and while you couldn't see your husband's face from the desk he was seated at. you could feel the tension in your shoulders.
while you were terrible at racing, you were good at one thing. making your beloved toto feel all better after a race. you left the track early, claiming to have a migraine but told toto's assistant to not tell your husband till after the race. you didn't need him to worry more, especially since your migraine was an excuse to go back to the hotel. even though your husband could be a green eyed monster, you still wanted him to feel better.
so one bottle of wine later and a soft pair of panties and sports bra later. you were waiting in the bedroom on your phone for your lover. when the hotel room door opened, you sat up in bed and scooted down to the foot where you sat there waiting for him.
the planes of your body on full display as you heard his heavy footsteps. his voice called out in the room, "schatzi?"
"in the bedroom, daddy!" you chirped.
you heard him get his shoes off and drop his bags. he then headed towards the bedroom. he opened the door fully and drank in the sight of you. while you thought it would've eased his jealousy a little bit, or at least the stress of the race. it only fueled it in his gut.
"where's your ring, schatzi?" he asked.
you perked up, "on the nightstand! i didn't want to lose it in bed or something happen to it!" even though it didn't have the biggest diamond in the world (per your request), you still held immense value to it.
he simply said, "put it on. you're my wife after all." his voice domineering and it made heat pool in your gut as you watched him get undressed. he watched your swallow as you got his slacks off.
you nodded, "yes daddy." then climbed up the bed on your hands and knees to grab it off the nightstand. and while you thought that you'd be in that position for a few moments. the weight of your over six foot tall husband left you pinned on the bed like that.
at least your ring was still on.
"whore." he said, as he rubbed his barely clothed cock up against the curve of your ass, "i see how they look at you. my employees drooling like dogs because you're on the track." he pressed into you further, "dirty, dirty."
you swallowed, face pressed into the covers, "i'm not a whore." you tried to defend yourself. but that was a hard case to make when your pussy was slick and a man much large and much older had you pinned down on the bed.
"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said, words like venom and it made your heart skip a bear. he got his briefs off and left nude before he started to undress what little you had on.
you squirmed a bit to help him get the panties off and let him rub his hard cock up against your wet pussy. you felt your cheeks heat up as you laid under him. and you yelped when he groped at your ass cheek.
"see, this is how i like you, angel." he said with a kiss against your temple, "you can be a good girl for me. you know i love you." he felt you shift under him as he placed another kiss against you. your pulse quickened on his lips as he sank his cock into your sweet, messy hole.
you felt good, as always, around him. even when he hand his hands tightly on you and his weight keeping your pinned to the bed. he moved against you. he could hear your sweet moans. you always made the cutest noises, especially when you pouted between moans. he knew you were pouting against the pillow as he fucked you.
it was the kind of fuck that got the envy out. reminded you who your husband was and that it sated the monster in toto's mind that you weren't going anywhere. how could you'd have the scent of cum and sex on your skin. everyone would know who toto was.
he loomed over you as he moved against you. his pace was fast and his thrusts were hard. it made your back arched, you could feel your heartbeat in your cunt as he fucked against you.
"pretty little treasure." he panted as he leaned in to kiss you on your neck. he loved the feeling of you in his arms. he groaned against your skin.
you replied, "toto, please. daddy. i love you." there was a whine in your tone as your hips lifted a little higher. you squeezed your eyes as you panted heavily into the covers.
"i love you too." he responded. his voice was honey in your mind. he heard you moan into the covers. it excited him. it made him feel hotter as he moved against you. you were his precious in his eyes, even when you made him jealous.
he may be green with envy, but it was to let the green eyed monster talk when he was so deep inside of you. when he rubbed up against some of your best parts. the parts that made you curl up and moan.
and when you said you loved him. it drove him crazy.
he panted heavily against you, paired with your loud moans. even when you whimpered daddy, it all went to his cock. you were a live wire, treasure.
you were running hot and your pants were heavy against the covers. you felt your orgasm stir in your gut. your heart hammered in your chest. sating the envy with your slick cunt.
he came first and stayed on top of you. even though he came, he was still hard. his thrusts continued and came quickly a second time because of the over stimulation and heat in his body before you came as well. your orgasm made him pant heavily into your ear. he left wet kisses on the shell as he rutted against you as you rode out your orgasm.
with two loads of cum deep in your sweet pussy, he didn't need to worry about you running off with someone else. and thus, the jealousy was settled in his brain. he laid out beside you and pulled you into his arms. his slick cock up against your back.
you were both a heated, panting mess as you felt the after shivers of climax. your brain felt fried as you laid out beside him. you loved the feeling and melted into your husband's touch.
"mm. daddy." you said.
he kissed the apple of your cheek and replied, yes, schatzi."
you yawned and turned over to bury your face in his chest. you held onto him as you said softly, "you're a jealous old man." <3
#bunny writes#the bakery#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#formula one smut#f1 smut#torger toto wolff#toto wolff smut#toto wolff#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff fanfic#formula one#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1
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One of the fun things about shipping Haladriel and about Galadriel's story in Rings of Power, for me, is that we know exactly where this is going to end up. And I wanted to babble for a bit about where that place is because I have seen so many people view it as "she is retired to some woods to be a passive wife-and-mother who can do magic but in a mystical New Age-y way", and: no! No.
So a quick overview of where she will end up by LOTR:
Very much not removed from the war against Sauron.
She is constantly mind-battling against Sauron: One of the lines that inspired McKay and Payne's whole show was her talking about this: "I say to you, Frodo, that even as I speak to you, I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the Elves. And he gropes ever to see me and my thought." In one of the versions of the Annatar story in Unfinished Tales, Sauron immediately realises she will be his 'chief adversary', and has apparently not changed that assessment 3500 years later.
She co-ordinates joint efforts against Sauron: The White Council that Elrond talks about in LOTR, the combined force of Ring-bearers, wizards and elf-lords that first drives Sauron out of Dol Guldur - she's not just on that, she founded it.
She gets Gandalf back after Moria and the Balrog: Galadriel learns what's happened to Gandalf from the Fellowship when they arrive in Lothlórien. The the Fellowship are sad; the elves of Lothlórien mourn; Celeborn loses it a bit and says Gandalf 'fell into folly'; but Galadriel sends Gwaihir the eagle to get him, returns him to health, updates him on the situation with Boromir, gives him some messages to take to the others, and sends him back on his way.
She is possibly in Lothlórien because of its position of strategic importance: from Unfinished Tales here, she 'saw that Lórien would be a stronghold and point of power to prevent the Shadow from crossing the Anduin in the war that must inevitably come' and that's why she and Celeborn go there. (There are other versions as with almost everything else in Tolkien, but this is one of them.) She's not there to hide away from Events.
2. Calmer than in TROP, but not all-wise and all-sweet and still pretty scary.
She is still tempted by power and world domination: "I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer [...] In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the morning and the night!"
And, she doesn't just turn down the One Ring because it's abstractly eeeevil. She turns it down because she knows what she, specifically, would do with it. Sam sees a vision of the Shire, and tells her "I wish you'd take his Ring. You'd put things to rights. You'd stop them digging up the Gaffer and turning him adrift. You'd make some folk pay for their dirty work," to which she says that yes, she would: "That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas! We will not speak more of it."
And saying she wants to rule the world here is not me joking about! This is Tolkien describing that moment in LOTR:
It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all that she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full-grown and she rejected it
People are scared of her: The only scary moment we directly see is the Ring temptation, but she does other unsettling things. When she meets the Fellowship she tests them by reading their minds and offering something they really want to see if it would make them "turn aside from the road and leave the Quest and the war against Sauron to others." (She offers Sam a garden; the One Ring later on tempts him with the same thing.) Even the hobbits are a bit disturbed by this and Boromir, who's already said he doesn't want to go into Lothlórien because people who do that never leave again, absolutely does not trust her.
Éomer, a few chapters later:
'Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!' he said. 'Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favour, then you are also net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe.'
She's scary! She's ancient and powerful and people are scared of her.
3. Married, but not in the character-limiting way the nerdbros want it to be and would have you believe it is.
I am not telling anyone they should ship Galadriel/Celeborn or even find it interesting just because I do, but, the angry nerdbros fancasting Celeborn as Henry Cavill and talking about how he'll come back to tame her and tidy her neatly out of the narrative are writing their own little AU headcanons because that is not what's in the text.
She's the more powerful one. Partly because she's one of the 'High Elves' - she's Noldor and has lived in Valinor seen the light of the Trees - which for various reasons about the way Tolkien's elves work just makes her more powerful, partly because she has a Ring of Power and Celeborn doesn't. It's her Mirror; she's the one reading people's minds; she's the one locked in endless mental battles with Sauron; she's the one the Rohirrim (whose lands border Lothlorien's) tell each other scary stories about. Celeborn at no point ever seems to have an issue with this, and calls her his 'treasure'.
They work together. Even in a big-action-sequences sense: after Sauron's defeat, Celeborn 'led the host of Lorien over Anduin in many boats' to Dol Guldur, where Galadriel 'threw down its walls and laid bare its pits'. But the rest of the time, too: she says of him that 'together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat'.
You really get the sense that they have been married for a loooooong time. An actual sequence of events in LOTR, somewhat condensed:
The Fellowship reveal there's a Balrog in Moria;
Celeborn goes "!!!!", complains about dwarves waking it up and says he'd never have let Gimli into Lothlorien if he'd known that;
Galadriel smacks Celeborn down for being rude to their guest;
Celeborn apologises to Gimli;
Galadriel tells the Fellowship that Celeborn is accounted the wisest of elves;
Boromir says something about "old wives' tales";
Celeborn, whose wife is one of the oldest beings in Middle-earth, tells Boromir not to be so dismissive because "old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know";
Galadriel hands Celeborn a drink.
Whatever is going on here is clearly something that works for them, is what I'm saying! And you don't have to find their marriage interesting just because I do, of course; but what it's not is some trad fantasy of domestic subservient-wife anything.
So where her TROP story ends up is ultimately with LOTR Galadriel: powerful, important, tempted to rule the world, a bit calmer than in TROP, a bit happier than in TROP, co-ordinating big strategic efforts in the war, married to someone who's got her back and adores her and they fall out a bit sometimes but generally work pretty well together, and still having Sauron constantly trying to get into her head. I am fine with this! I am more than fine with this.
#rings of power#galadriel#haladriel#celeborn#multishipper rights#'but I don't like Celeborn' oh what a shame he always said such nice things about you#I do not need characters in a ship to be canonically married and walk off into the sunset together#tbh I do not even need the characters in a ship to have ever met#but a ship where they end up locked in endless mind-battles and she's still tempted by what he offered her 3000 years later - so good!#genuinely find it baffling that anyone would think ANYthing season 2 of TROP could do would kill off a ship that we know ends up here#eyeofacat meta
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Self Care
Self Care for the signs; use your moon sign & house placement (transit moon and house placement work as well, you can even use your venus sign if you're feeling up to it)
*TW: mental health disorders are talked about throughout
ARIES MOON/ARIES VENUS/1H MOON/1H VENUS: For these natives, I imagine a lot of energy swirling around the head and face. Stress can lead to overthinking, headaches, acne breakouts, and in more serious cases; vertigo, migraines, and hair loss. Exercise can really help these placements dispense of all the extra energy. It doesn't have to be something intense like body building or running miles (although it can be), it can be as simple as walking in nature or playing a sport with friends. Playing catch with your dog or playing a game of basketball. Other than exercise, Aries and 1st house placements can benefit from a spa day; whether at an actual spa or at home doing a skin care routine and a face mask. Guided meditation is great for these placements too in order to quiet the mind chatter. One last simple thing these natives can practice is turning off their phone for an hour a day; they're so involved in the world around them and sometimes that's a good thing but other times it can be very draining. Tune out the world and tune into your body.
TAURUS MOON/TAURUS VENUS/2H MOON/2H VENUS: Stressed out Taurus and 2nd house placements can struggle with their self esteem whether that shows up as arrogance or insecurity (Moon and Venus here can signify fluctuating self esteem). They also tend to hold a lot of stress in their shoulders creating soreness or even bad posture. Extreme stress can cause these natives to either withhold or indulge in things; usually in terms of food, money, or material possessions. This can lead to disordered eating, stinginess, overspending or possessiveness over their belongings, they do this to feel a sense of control in the midst of chaos. Taurus/2nd house placements would benefit from a massage either at a spa or from a loved one. Since the 2nd house rules over material possessions it's important for these people to reconnect with their element; Earth. Connecting with the Earth can look like gardening or caring for house plants, playing with animals, a simple walk outside, or nourishing their body with fresh fruits and vegetables. Since the 2nd house and Venus rules all things pleasurable, playing up the senses can really benefit these natives. Soft blankets, nice smelling candles or aromatherapy, listening to relaxing music, eating sweets or drinking warm tea are all things these placements can do to relax.
GEMINI MOON/GEMINI VENUS/3H MOON/3H VENUS: Gemini and 3rd house placements are very efficient people, normally. They are great multitaskers and great socializers. Stress with these placements usually shows up mentally at first then it starts to effect them physically. Their body is directly effected by their emotions, like Virgo. Stress can show up as restlessness, anxiety, shakiness or in more serious cases; anxiety attacks, becoming withdrawn, and dermatillomania (Gemini rules hands). In order for these natives to relax, they must take their air energy and create something tangible with it. Journaling is a great way to do this, also painting or blogging. Since Gemini rules the hands, a lot of stress can be relieved by keeping them busy. Knitting, crocheting, video games, playing instruments (double points if these activities connect the brain and hands in some way). Gemini and 3h placements would also benefit from breathing exercises, reading nonfiction books (Geminis love to learn), or even just venting about their problems to a trusted friend.
CANCER MOON/CANCER VENUS/4H MOON/4H VENUS: For people with Cancer or 4th house placements, stress can show up primarily through emotions (surprising I know). Cancer feels all the feels, good or bad. Stress can show up and create sadness, anger, anxiety, pessimistic behavior and being on edge. In worse cases; depression, an anxiety disorder, and rumination. In terms of self care, it's important for Cancer/4th house placements to get in touch with their inner child. This can be achieved by spending time with children, looking back at photos with happy memories, blowing bubbles, watching their favorite children's movie or eating their favorite meal growing up. Since the 4th house also rules family, spending time with blood or chosen relatives is important too (even pets!). Since Cancer is a water sign, taking a bath and staying hydrated are great forms of self care for these individuals. To cater to their nurturing side, taking care of someone else (a relative, loved one, a pet, even a plant) can help them forget their own problems which is great but if this is the only thing they do it can create a habit of avoidance to their own problems. One last thing Cancer/4th house placements can do for self care is cook themselves a hardy meal since Cancer rules the stomach and because, well, they deserve it.
LEO MOON/LEO VENUS/5H MOON/5H VENUS: For Leo and 5th house natives, stress can show up and drain these peoples' sunny disposition; like clouds covering the Sun. Stress can lead to them becoming uninspired, unmotivated, lazy and even bitter. In more extreme cases, Leo/5th house placements can slip into depression, ice out loved ones and hobbies, and become unsure of themselves - which leads to a lowering of self esteem and makes them second guess who they are. High blood pressure and heart palpitations isn't uncommon when these people deal with extreme stress over a long period of time. In order to relieve this stress, Leo/5th house placements can benefit from acupuncture or cupping (Leo rules the back and spine), a massage, or even reiki as a form of self care in order to move their stagnant energy around. Exploring somewhere new, going to an art museum, or going out with friends to a party or out to eat can inspire these natives and get them motivated to create again. Other forms of self care for Leo/5th house placements is reciting affirmations in the mirror daily, affirmations they know to be true about themselves. Pampering themselves in some way can boost their self esteem; whether that be getting their hair done, going shopping, or treating themselves to their favorite meal. Practicing self care for these natives is extremely important in order to keep their sun shining.
VIRGO MOON/VIRGO VENUS/6H MOON/6H VENUS: Virgo, virgo, virgo, always worrying your pretty little head off. I can say this btw I'm a Virgo moon and know this all too well. This goes for 6th House placements too, they are the busy bodies of the zodiac. Like Gemini and 3rd house placements, Virgo and 6th house placements feel stress mentally first and then physically. Stress can make them physically ill; stomach aches especially. When these natives are stressed, it shows up physically as digestive issues, stomach aches, disordered eating and even skin picking (dermatillomania). Mentally, these people can become cold and short with others. Virgo and 6th house placements can also become reactive to situations and look at things quite negatively. In my opinion, it's hard for Virgos and 6th house placements to get in the habit of self care since they are very sacrificial and put people before themselves. They also have a million and one things to do and want to get them done or else they can't relax. Self care for these people should be activities where they can unwind while still feeling productive. Exercise in any form is great for these natives because they love health and wellness. Yoga in all forms is PERFECT for Virgo/6th house placements since they're the epitome of mind, body, and soul (what effects their mind, effects their body, and then effects their soul). One last self care activity for these people is reading a book. Learning and relaxing? A Virgo/6th house placement's DREAM.
LIBRA MOON/LIBRA VENUS/7H MOON/7H VENUS: Libra and 7th house placements become stressed when things aren't harmonious. Relationships, work, their health - if it's not balanced, they really feel it. Stress for these people can show up as acne breakouts, becoming unmotivated, neglecting their physical appearance, and passive aggressiveness. In more extreme cases, these individuals can isolate themselves, be on the verge of tears all the time, and become volatile. Self care comes in the form of facials, baths, getting dressed up for a date. Libra/7th house placements want to look and feel good. Buying gifts for themselves or receiving gifts (big or small); especially clothes, makeup, skincare products, hair care, jewelry, candles, etc. Like Taurus/2nd house placements, they like things that satisfying their senses. Other forms of self care for these natives are spending time or talking one-on-one with a friend, family member, or partner whether that's for receiving advice, venting, or simply distracting them from their issues.
SCORPIO MOON/SCORPIO VENUS/8H MOON/8H VENUS: Scorpio/8th house placements feel stressed when they're lacking connection; emotional, physical, mental or spiritual. They might not like to admit it but they need a shoulder to cry on too. These people are also prone to mood swings so sometimes it's hard to pinpoint why they're feeling the way they do. These natives feel emotions strongly, just like the other water signs and house placements. Stress can show up as a low libido, dark eye circles from lack of sleep, and anger that comes on fast. In more extreme cases, they can experience depression, intrusive thoughts, and develop phobias. In order for Scorpio/8th house natives to relax, they need to channel their emotional energy. This can be hard, especially because sometimes they don't even know what's wrong or what exactly is stressing them out. Writing, painting, sculpting, any form of art is extremely beneficial to these people because even if they can't put a finger on why they're feeling a certain way, they can still express it in other ways. Other forms of self care can include taking a shower, swimming, taking a bath - anything that connects them back to their element. Having sex, reinventing themselves through dying their hair or changing up their wardrobe, and even witchcraft can help them incredibly. Diving into taboos and embracing them can do wonders for these people.
SAGITTARIUS MOON/SAGITTARIUS VENUS/9H MOON/9H VENUS: Do Sag placements even get stressed out..? Just kidding of course they do! These natives become stressed when they feel trapped, bored, and stagnant. You can always tell when they feel a certain way because they will tell you, bluntly and unapologetically. Sagittarius/9th house placement's symptoms of stress is restlessness, becoming impulsive, and being straight up mean. These placements need stimulation and will do things, good or bad, to get it. Self care comes in forms of traveling, learning, and winning. Whether down the street or to a different country, these natives benefit from exploring somewhere new. To them self care is indulging in their wants, and they WANT to explore new places and learn new things. Eating their favorite country's cuisine, going to a new place (a store or a park or a vacation), or reading a book are all forms of self care for them. Sagittarius/9th house placements would even benefit from planning a vacation even if they never take it. Other forms of self care for these individuals is playing board games or sports with friends, gambling (in moderation), eating good food, having a few drinks, throwing a party. They need to indulge, just a little bit.
CAPRICORN MOON/CAPRICORN VENUS/10H MOON/10H VENUS: These natives will never let you know that they're stressed out because they can handle it, they can handle anything and everything all the time, right? NO, but they want to be able to which creates more stress - they literally stress about stress. For them, stress can show up as feeling tightness and soreness in their body, lack of sleep, and disordered eating from trying to gain a sense of control. In extreme cases they will throw themselves into work because they can't feel the stress if they're distracted... this leads to endless problems which, guess what... leads to MORE STRESS. Capricorns/10h placements, take a day off. The world will still go on if you rest. Other than that, these natives benefit from stretching, yoga, meditation, a nice hot bath or shower. They need to slow their roll. One self care activity that benefits them the most is laughing; funny movies, seeing a comedy show, playing with their kids or telling funny stories are all things that can remind them that play is just as important as work. Have fun you guys, you deserve it the most.
AQUARIUS MOON/AQUARIUS VENUS/11H MOON/11H VENUS: Similar to Capricorn/10th house placements, you guys have a good poker face when it comes to being stressed out. What's different though is that instead of throwing yourself into work, you fake a smile until you're all alone... that's when the symptoms of stress take over. Anxiety, loneliness, sadness are all things these people experience when stressed out. They have plenty of friends and support systems but no really gets them, at least that's how they feel. In extreme cases, Aquarius/11th house placements can experience depression, depersonalization, and feeling more and more alienated and different than everyone else. Self care for these people includes meditation, journaling, walking barefoot outside, even hugging a damn tree - anything that pulls them back down to Earth. Planning a day with friends or loved ones to do something spontaneous or adventurous can really help these people. They need to get out of the "box" they put themselves in. Other forms of self care include things that are wild, fun, and get the blood pumping; playing paintball, video games, snowball/water balloon fight, pranks, partying and letting loose with your friends, and creating silly YouTube videos. The best self care for them is connecting with like minded people and having stimulating conversations or doing things that are crazy and silly.
PISCES MOON/PISCES VENUS/12H MOON/12H VENUS: When these natives feel stress, like Cancer/4th house placements, it comes in the form of emotions. Sadness, passive aggressiveness, and even shutting down emotionally in order to not feel anything at all. Pisces/12th house placements feel things so strongly and on every level - so for them, it's better to shut the emotions off because that's easier than dealing with it head on. But, those suppressed feelings will always come back to bite them. Stress shows up as lack of faith and trust, the inability to focus and stop daydreaming, and mood swings. Since the 12th house rules the subconscious mind, sometimes they don't realize why they feel stressed or unbalanced, like Scorpio/8th house placements. These individuals benefit from swimming, visiting a body of water, jumping in a puddle, or even going outside to feel the rain in order to reconnect with their element. Anything art; painting, sculpting, knitting, singing, creating is probably the best thing they can do to channel emotions. I always joke and say Pisces/12th house placements love "old lady activities" but I think it's true. Knitting, playing bingo, spending time with children, baking are all things that can really help them. Other than that, self care for these natives can be as simple as taking a nap to tune out the world. Or giving yourself alone time in a judgmental free place to do what you want. I think the theme here is to tune out the world and tune into yourself, however you can achieve that.
*Note: No placement in astrology is exempt from experiencing mental health disorders, just because I didn't mention it for every sign doesn't mean it can't happen to them, it can. If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, my ask box is always open.
#astro observations#astrology community#astrology#astro community#moon signs#Venus signs#stress#self care#Aries#Leo#sagittarius#Taurus#Virgo#Capricorn#Scorpio#cancer#Pisces#Aquarius#Gemini#Libra#astrology houses#Astro
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‧˚₊ Shotgun in his car
pairing: bakugou katsuki/f!reader summary: random thoughts about Katsuki and driving word count: ~800 words contains: slight nsfw, mostly fluff, aged-up • ao3 link a/n: I blame this song for putting the thought in my already "crying over bakugou katsuki on a daily basis" brain. before I kick myself out, as a bonus "thought": rolled-up sleeves. enjoy 🧡
Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend who pulls up in front of U.A after getting his driver’s license, where you’re supposed to meet up with him, and whistles at you, the sharp tune a shared secret. His proud grin widens when your head jerks up and all you manage is half a curse in his direction as you startle. He knows the words died on your tongue at the sight of him in the driver seat of a car you don’t recognize. Of course not, it was his parents’ gift for his eighteenth birthday, one he hid from you for this very moment. He melts inside when you climb in, throw your arms around his neck, and smother his face with kisses as you squeal out your congratulations. Putting up with all the dumb instructions from his driving instructor was worth it if this was his reward.
Bakugou Katsuki whose strides hold more arrogance when he returns to the dorms and waves his driver's license to everyone. He was the first to turn eighteen, and now, he’s the first with a driver's license. His chuckles resonate just right when your friends groan exasperated and complain how they have to wait, but congratulate him nonetheless and wiggle their eyebrows because Katsuki with a license means a free drive. Wrong.
Bakugou Katsuki plays taxi driver for no one except you. You—the reason why those free drives he vehemently denies become a thing. When you ask him, pretty eyes peering into his, Katsuki thinks “Hell no”, but his mouth says, “Whatever. Fine.” And there are rules. No eating or drinking. Wear a seatbelt. Don’t be obnoxiously noisy. And the strictest of them all: no one, not even his parents, is allowed to sit in the passenger seat. Hell breaks loose on anyone who tries. “That’s my girl’s seat. Get in the back”—not a statement, but an order. It’s that same seat that becomes the first thing he modifies in his car with his first paycheck. Every last yen goes into the best material, best cushion, best everything because your comfort is his. And it’s so fucking worth it when you cuddle up in your new seat with a big smile on your face and love is all he feels when you say, “God, Kat. You’re spoiling me too much” and pull him by his collar into a mind-numbing kiss.
Bakugou Katsuki and driving with one hand, a habit born out of a passing comment you made about how hot he looked when he did that. His brain rewired on your words, spoken in a nearly whiny tone. But with the rewiring came a whole lot of other things. Like his free hand resting on your thigh. Sometimes his fingers trace random patterns and innocently knead and pinch. Other times, they glide higher and tease, twitch with need when your legs instinctively spread for more of what only he can give you. It is for that reason that Katsuki memorized where in the city the secluded places were. Once his name passes your lips on a breathy moan, he knows no driving, only how to pull over and make you come all over his fingers.
Bakugou Katsuki who finds an outlet in driving late at night when stress gets to him and sleep is being a bitch. Becomes his routine, and slowly yours too. “You’re more important than my sleep, Kat. I’m right there with you,” you told him one night when he got angry at himself for daring to disturb your sleep for the third time that week. He kissed you right after, hungrier than ever, insatiable for your love and everything you meant to his world. Katsuki didn’t care that you wore only a T-shirt—one of his old ones—as he dragged you out of your shared apartment and into his car after allowing you a minute to put shoes on. That drive was a learning experience so now, among the many things crowding his calendar, are the nights promising a clear sky. Because he needs a repeat of his car parked on some random grassy field on the outskirts of the city. To watch you beam at the starry sky above and drown in your joy as you tug on the sleeve of his T-shirt, pointing at the constellations and naming what he already knows because Katsuki always listens when it’s you. Eventually, he silences you with a kiss, his love burning too bright and too hot; it overwhelms him. His head spins and spins. It’s a blur that temporarily clears when you finally ease down on him in the backseat of his car, your gaze locked with his lovesick one, hands grabbing everywhere they can. It’s the only time when Katsuki goes against your wishes of fucking you hard. Not a romantic in the literal sense of the word, but the way everything gravitates together in the moment changes his usual pace into something softer. He makes love to you. Heart wide open, soul bare.
#no use of y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#reader insert#female reader#bakugou smut#bnha smut#bnha fic#when the title hits you after you post
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The Plurality of... Bill Cipher (The Book of Bill)
Spoiler Warning for Gravity Falls, The Book of Bill, and the nature of reality as you know it
Hello dear reader.
I recently found in my possession a strange book with no explanation as to how it got there. A bizarre tome known only as The Book of Bill.
I recognized the name and imagery from someone else's memories. Bill Cipher, a character from Alex Hirsch's hit series Gravity Falls.
It honestly seemed too perfect. I've been doing this "Plurality of..." series where I look at plurality in media. And an important part of Bill's shtick was possession.
It seemed simple enough. I can read the book, learn a bit about Bill and his possession, and then write an article about his plurality. But the reality was anything by simple, with far more than I bargained for.
And by the end of this post, this book will have driven me to break a fundamental rule I've held sacred through my "Plurality Of..." series.
What is Plurality?
Before we begin, I should explain what plurality is for anyone new here. Plurality is a term for being multiple in one body in some way.
We call the body's occupants "headmates". These can be anything from alters in dissociative disorders to spirit guides bound to a mortal, to... yes... even literal demonic possession.
Yeah, even being possessed by a demonic triangle from a 2-dimensional universe is a type of plurality. If there are multiple self-conscious agents of some kind there, it's plural!
Time To Get Weird!
(Art by magentasnail)
Let's catch you up on the basics real quick. Again, there will be huge Gravity Falls spoilers.
In Gravity Falls, Bill Cipher is a yellow a 2-dimensional triangle demon bent on causing chaos.
Through the series, Bill makes deals with multiple characters to possess their bodies. This includes both gaining full control over the body of protagonist Dipper Pines for an episode, and more interestingly, sharing control over the body of Stanford Pines for an extended period of time.
Bill's possession of Dipper left Dipper outside his body like a ghost. But his deal with Stanford is much more plural in nature, where they shared control, with Bill only controlling the body in his sleep.
Obviously real plural systems don't have headmates controlling their body while they sleep like this, but the experience can be seen as analogous to dissociative identity disorder, where it's common to experience blackouts and "wake up" in situations unsure how you got there.
That's all you really need to know about Bill for the time being.
With that out of the way, it's time get weird and dive straight into the Book of Bill!
The Book of Bills
As I begin reading the Book of Bill, I'm given a warning from Stanford Pines that the book will rewrite itself based on the mind of the reader. This seems silly, and I of course dismiss the idea out of hand. Surely there's no way a book could change itself based on who's reading it.
As I venture further into this tome, I find the occasional point of interest. References to Bill living in people's brain, him being an idea, etc.
I stop briefly to ponder that. Why does Bill refer to himself as an idea? Isn't he canonically a being from a physical 2-dimensional world? Him being described as an idea is peculiar, but something I tuck away for the future.
The first thing I find that really piques my interest in regards to plurality is the multiple times that it's just referenced that there are multiple Bills in Bill's head. Such as when Bill refers to "the voices in his head" teaming up.
In the plural community, there's a concept known as median system.
A median system is typically a system which has separate parts that are less distinct from each other. There's a pretty solid case that Bill, having a bunch of Bills in his head, could be considered a median system on his own.
In fact, the book itself actually depicts communication between multiple Bills, in the form of an interview.
And throughout the interview, there are times where the Prime Bill seemingly gets annoyed at the interviewer's questions. As if they are actually different people. While this could be Bill simply duplicating himself and pretending for comedic effect, it could just as easily be that both Bills are headmates in Bill's system.
Bill being a median system is a pretty interesting direction.
As I read on though, the book dragged me down yet another rabbit hole, and raised an important question.
Does Bill Have A Dissociative Disorder???
Let's talk about dissociative identity disorder. There are two main criteria for DID. Criterion A is the presence of two or more distinct personality states. You know, like those Bills in Bill's head.
The second is memory loss.
Recurrent gaps in the recall of everyday events, important personal information, and/or traumatic events.
This is what was on my mind when Bill was describing how he was uniquely gifted with the ability to see into the third dimension, and wanted to teach others this same skill.
But when he tries to recount it... this happened...
To me, this sounds exactly what was described in criterion B. This is also called dissociative amnesia.
And it's not just this one-off example. Bill actually references later that he dissociates (his words) and "wakes up" later after a conquest.
With everything we know, it seems incredibly likely that Bill has DID, or at least a related disorder.
Bill is what he eats
Okay... wait...
So Bill can ALSO imprison the souls of those he eats inside himself, and they can apparently take over Bill's body too???
What actually is going on here? Is this one of Bill's powers? He can just eat entire universes and then whatever he consumes becomes a part of him? Or maybe it's something else...
Maybe if we looked at this less literally and consider the previous hints of Bill having a dissociative disorder then perhaps what is going on is that Bill is introjecting these people.
Maybe whenever he enters somebody's mind, some piece of them remains...
I would love to speculate more on this... But this is the only mention of it in the entire book!
At this point, I begin to reflect on the words at the beginning. Maybe it was true that the book was changing itself to give me what I wanted. Little hints of plurality to keep me reading, to ensnare me in its vicious trap and ultimately drive me to madness.
And the worst part was, I was falling into it anyway. Because I had to know, even if this was a trap, I was in it to the very end. My thirst for knowledge and understanding unquenchable.
Even if I knew I should stop here, there was no going back.
Stanford Pines, Bill's Perfect Host
At last, beyond all of the misdirects that were put in my way, I arrived at the reason that I started on this journey.
Stanford Pines.
I need to say that when I started this journey, planning to delve into what the plurality of Bill and Ford might be like, I never imagined that it would be handled so... Beautifully.
I mean that genuinely!
I love the relationship of these two characters in the book!
They are both very out of place in their own ways. Both are aware of things in their world that are denied by others, leaving them ridiculed and ostracized for it. They manage to form a genuine friendship. Even if Bill was using Stanford the whole time to achieve his Weirdmageddon.
The two compliment each other surprisingly well. Bill provides Stanford with a friend who can get him out of his comfort zone, which is something that I think Stanford really needed.
There's a really fun part of the book where Bill just gets Stanford mind-drunk, which is apparently something he can do.
Bill fills a role in Stanford's life that nobody had since he lost contact with his brother. While Stanford had friend in with Fiddleford, his lab partner, and we do get to see parts of that friendship in the book, they are more like work acquaintances.
Alas, it wasn't meant to be. Because in the end, Bill is still an evil demon who was bent on bringing about the Weirdmageddon and was manipulating Ford the whole time.
And when Stanford found out, he tried to shut Bill out. This led to Bill trying to communicate through sticky notes to get Ford to stop ignoring him. He would front in the body at night while Ford slept, and they carried on a conversation through these sticky notes.
Wait... Sticky notes?
This is such an interesting choice for the character! Especially after so many hints of Bill Cipher having some sort of dissociative disorder.
Why?
Because sticky notes are an actual method that real DID systems use to communicate with their alters, as seen in this post from the NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) website.
It's fascinating how, if you were to try to depict how headmates with strong dissociative barriers might communicate, this is one of the ways you would want to do that!
Is this coincidental? Maybe. But the talk of dissociation earlier suggests the author also has at least some basic knowledge of dissociation and how it works. And, perhaps, plurality as well?
Overall, this whole section with Bill and Ford was fantastic, and it was well-worth the read for that on its own.
The End?
I suppose this is the end. I found what I wanted. I got the content I was after. A cool plural story of a guy and his headmate from another dimension who wants to take over the world.
Through all the strange distractions and hints of Bill himself having headmates that seemingly went nowhere, I got more plurality in the book than I expected.
And yet, as I turn the final page of the book, I feel unsatisfied. Unsettled.
"Is that it?" I think to myself.
This is Gravity Falls, a show built on mysteries, and looking deeper than the surface. Surely there has to be more. Right?
What if... all the plurality in this book, is obscuring something deeper? Or maybe hinting at something deeper...
And then... I see it!
After the final page, I come to the About the Author section.
Which means it's time to talk about...
The Plurality of... Bill Cipher Alex Hirsch
Yes, I am going there!
In the beginning, I promised that this post will require me to break a rule I've held sacred through these posts.
That rule... is to never speculate on the plurality of the author.
But, Alex Hirsch, at least in a fictional sense, hasn't exactly shied away from the idea of being "possessed" by Bill. This dates back at least a decade, with him making Tweets like this one.
"Bill Cipher" even did an AMA on Reddit through Alex, playing it off as Bill possessing Hirsch while he slept.
It's a pretty open secret in the Gravity Falls community that Alex Hirsch is "possessed" by Bill. At least in some meta-fiction way that may not be canon to Gravity Falls but isn't quite real either.
And were my analysis to stop here, I wouldn't really be saying anything new or valuable. A lot of this was covered by MatPat on Film Theory.
But there's something I want to go back to that confuses me in this book.
That Bill Cipher... is an idea?
Let's bring this full circle, back to the beginning of the book where Bill mentions that he's imaginary and describes himself as an idea.
These are such weird lines because Bill didn't seem to have originated from people's minds within the narrative of Gravity Falls.
His story is of being a being from a literal flat world. So why then, does he describe himself as an idea? Why does he describe himself as imaginary???
Bill Cipher as Alex Hirsch's Tulpa
While Bill being an idea doesn't make sense if he's speaking as a being from a 2-dimensional world that's real to him, it does make sense if we consider that the Bill talking to us, who wrote the Book of Bill, is a tulpa sharing the body of its creator.
Before going on though, we need to answer an important question. What is a tulpa? The r/tulpas subreddit gives its own answer to this in its FAQ.
The simplest way to describe a tulpa is simply another person who was created intentionally/unintentionally through repeated interaction and shares a body and mind with their creator. A more complicated definition can go as follows: A tulpa is believed to be an autonomous consciousness coinhabiting a brain with their creator, often with a form of their creator's initial choice and design. A tulpa is entirely sentient and in control of their opinions, feelings, form and movement. They are willingly created via a number of techniques to act as companions, muses, and advisers. Tulpa forms can either be visualized in the mind's eye, or, with practice, seen as a hallucinatory figure using a technique called imposition.
And let's stop there on the line about being created as muses, because this is something that's found repeated throughout both The Book of Bill and Journal 3, with Stanford referring to Bill as his "muse."
It's a curious term that doesn't appear in the show, but was added to the lore in these two supplemental books.
The FAQ goes on to explain that while tulpas are often considered to be intentionally created, there are also accidental tulpas that can arise through imaginary friends or from writing characters.
Is it possible to accidentally make a tulpa? Yes - many people join the community after realizing they have had tulpas all their lives, but without knowing what they were called. These "accidental" tulpas often arise from imaginary friends and writing/roleplay characters.
On the point of roleplay characters, something I also haven't mentioned yet is that Alex Hirsch didn't just write the character of Bill Cipher. He WAS Bill Cipher. In the show, Bill is one of the characters Hirsch voices along with Grunkle Stan and Soos.
Writing tulpas and how they come about are discussed a bit more below:
Is this a new phenomena? No, it's a practice that goes back in recorded history at least as far as the Greek philosophers. The present name of the phenomenon is derived from the word used by Tibetan monks in the early 20th century. There's also evidence to suggest dedicated prayer can lead to the development of 'religious tulpas' in the minds of the particularly devout, and on the secular end, writing techniques similar to tulpa development techniques can and have resulted in writers creating accidental tulpas from their characters. Having a tulpa is nothing new, although it's gone by many names throughout the course of history and does so even today. However, we believe we are one of the first groups to address this practice as a psychological phenomena rather than a magical, occult or divine experience.
Tulpamancy and Attention
There was another passage from the book that I found noteworthy.
At the end, Stanford describes what truly sustains Bill isn't power, but attention, which Stanford describes as Bill's "lifeblood."
It's even underlined for emphasis.
Why is this important? Well first, this line goes back to the weird lines earlier suggesting Bill is an idea.
But more importantly, feeding on attention is something which is actually a pretty popular philosophy in tulpamancy. That tulpas feed on and are sustained by the attention of their hosts.
How do I give my tulpa energy? Tulpas are sustained by attention, and energy is a convenient metaphor for this. So, you can give your tulpa energy by interacting with them. It is also possible, through no shortage of work and time on the part of host and tulpa alike, for a tulpa to grow beyond this need and to learn how to sustain themselves.
How much attention/energy/interaction does my tulpa need? During the creation process you should aim to interact with your tulpa daily, anywhere from a few minutes up to a few hours, and narrating to them as and when you can. After they're fully vocal and active, the bare minimum is just acknowledging their existence, but spending time talking to them and interacting with them is very much the point of bringing them into existence. Just don't ignore them, and you'll both be fine.
On Parallels in Writing
Adding another layer, it's likely that Stanford Pines is at least partially based on Alex Hirsch himself.
One point of trivia is that Alex Hirsch has a twin sister, and Gravity Falls was inspired by vacations they would take as children. Dipper and Mabel being based on Alex and his sister is pretty well-known. But towards the end of season 2, it's revealed that their Grunkle Stan is a twin himself, with his brother being Stanford Pines, the author of the journals.
During this part of the story, it starts creating a parallel between the relationships of the younger and older twins, with Dipper (who is based on Alex) bonding with Stanford over how much they have in common. Both are nerds who are into writing and science and uncovering the mysteries of the world. Both are a bit socially awkward as well.
And while not much attention is drawn to this particular connection, both had experiences of making deals with Bill that let Bill takeover their bodies at different points.
Based on the parallels between Dipper and Stanford, one might speculate that Alex based Dipper on his younger self, while Stanford was loosely based on himself as an adult.
The personalities of these two characters are also the most likely to create a tulpa based on the psychological profiles of most tulpamancers.
In 2016, Dr. Samuel Veissiere, a psychiatry professor at McGill University, found the following in his study of tulpamancers:
From coding of qualitative interviews collected in large surveys, the most common tulpamancer profile to emerge is one of a highly cerebral, imaginative, highly articulate, upper-middle class, formally educated person with many consistently pursued interests, talents, and hobbies, but limited channels of physical social interaction. Typical tulpamancers are confident about their talents, but are quite modest and socially shy. They possess – or have cultivated – a high propensity for concentration, absorption, hypnotisability, and non-psychotic sensory hallucinations.
The psychological profile of tulpamancers fits both Dipper and Stanford to a t. And many of these same traits could just as easily be true for Alex Hirsch if these characters were meant to be stand-ins for himself.
Is Alex Hirsch trying to tell us that he's plural?
In the end, this is just a theory. And it's one that I feel nervous making because plurality is so deep and personal. That's why I've avoided speculating on the plurality authors in the past. Even when the writing feels so true to the plural experience that it's hard to imagine that someone who isn't plural wrote it.
So why am I making an exception with this one?
Well, in this particular case, I think that the breadcrumbs are being left intentionally, and if he is plural, then he expects somebody to follow them. I'm not worried that I would be outing somebody who didn't want others to find out.
With Alex Hirsch's love of codes and clues and mysteries, if he were plural, I have to imagine that the hints weren't accidental and he would be wondering if anybody would follow them.
And if I am completely off base and he's not plural, I think that he would still appreciate the theorizing anyway. 🤷♀️
But if these are intentional clues that were left behind to hint at a real life plurality, one might ask why.
Why would he want people to know about it, and hint at it in this way?
Well, I think the Book of Bill might have an answer to that too.
Shame is a powerful emotion. But it grows in the dark. The more I've tried to hide my past with Bill, the more hold it's had over me.
Perhaps this line is meant to reflect Alex Hirsch's own feelings. Because many plural systems have felt this same way about their plurality, having hide their relationships to their headmates.
The actual end now
Finally, we come to the real ending of this.
This is, again, just a theory. I don't want anyone taking it as fact. I admit that I could be completely wrong about everything that I've said here.
But if nothing else, it's at least fun to imagine that Alex Hirsch does have a Bill Cipher tulpa in his head that has been acting as his muse this whole time. And it would give a new meaning to the gag of the Weirdmageddon intro saying Gravity Falls was "created by Bill Cipher" all those years ago.
Thanks for reading, and if you have your own muse that you think might be more than a simple muse, be sure to read my guide on how to know if your imaginary friend is sentient.
And if you like this post and want to see more like it, you may want to check out The Plurality of… Avatar: The Last Airbender or The Plurality of… IF
#bill cipher#book of bill#ford pines#gravity falls#pluralgang#the book of bill#plural#plurality#endogenic#multiplicity#pro endo#pro endogenic#tulpamancy#tulpa#sysblr#disney#standford pines#endo safe#actually plural#actually a system
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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.
It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.
Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.
There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.
Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?
There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)
When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.
It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.
Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.
He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.
Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.
Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.
“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”
“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”
“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”
“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”
Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”
“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.
“Okay, then walk me through it.”
“What?”
“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”
“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”
“Because you’re scared.”
Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”
“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.
“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”
Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.
“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”
“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”
Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.
Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.
*
Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.
Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.
Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.
Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.
Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.
He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.
Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.
He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.
Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.
“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”
“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.
“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”
In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.
“How did you—”
Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”
Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.
“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?
“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?
“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”
Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.
“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”
So, so much.
#steve harrignton#eddie munson#steddie#dustin henderson#stranger things#st4 fanfic#i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol#i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness#proposal au#hehe#short and sweet#excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped
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Jealousy part 1
Part 2 here
Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior
Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir
I'll update the tags as the story progresses, there should only be two more parts.
I'm not sure how far I'll go with certain behaviors, so leave a comment and let me know what you think <3
(This first part is to provide context, the other two will set the story in motion)
Becoming a Padawan was a lifelong dream. Of course, I was young, so my view of the world and what I would experience in the coming years was very limited. The idea of being taken under the wing of a more experienced Jedi master, learning many more techniques, the missions, the travels, all the people and aliens I could meet... I was bursting with happiness.
Not that the exercises at the temple weren't stimulating, I was glad to have made friends, to have developed a routine with them, but I was ready for something new.
So, when I was finally introduced to my future master, I was bursting with joy. I recognized her immediately, it was hard not to. Vernestra was an important member of the Order, involved with the Senate, and was known for her numerous successes. It was an honor for me to receive that position by her side.
Over the years, I had been recognized as an excellent future Padawan, with the ability to learn quickly, a strong sense of observation, and a positive and kind character that always accompanied me. I was often praised for the way I presented myself to others. In short, everyone saw a bright future for me, but I had difficulty seeing it myself. I was young and inexperienced and I believed that the important thing was to follow the rules, the rest was just a part of me, something I did naturally.
I imagine that becoming Vernestra’s Padawan was just the confirmation of that golden path everyone saw me on, but I was too caught up in the newness to really think about it.
However, I soon realized that I lost the balance I had created up to that point, I lost some friends, some simply due to distance, others were... cold towards me.
I didn't understand what had changed. I would never have accused anyone of feeling emotions like jealousy or anger towards me, we were children. Missteps were normal, and we were taught that it was right to face them and learn from them.
But if you asked around, many would have described me as someone who never made mistakes, who always responded with a gentle smile, a comforting word, a hand on the shoulder, or even just a pleasant company if you needed to vent. Perhaps that was the problem. I appeared too perfect in the eyes of others.
And yet, the Master didn’t make me feel that way. She taught me everything calmly, I followed her every step, she reprimanded me harshly, but always with care. She soon realized how much I sought validation in everything I did.
It was stronger than me, I believed I was always making a mistake, that I was in the wrong. After all, who was I to say something was right or wrong? I was just a Padawan. A child.
And anyway, it wasn’t the Jedi’s job to give answers, but rather to push people to understand for themselves.
Even though it was a concept I found difficult to grasp myself.
Anyway, that’s how I met Qimir.
He was Vernestra’s former Padawan, now promoted to Jedi Knight and independent in his duties, but he often visited us, either to seek advice from his old Master or just to ask how she was doing. I found him very sweet.
The first time I met him in person, I already knew his name. He had managed to stand out as soon as he started his duties as a Knight. Among the younger ones, there was a sense of reverence towards him even though we had never seen him in person. And besides, it was rumored that he was terribly handsome, not that it particularly interested me at the time.
I remember I was in the library with Vernestra, she had assigned me some basic readings to start my future physical training. Young ones are already taught at an early age to defend themselves and to learn various positions, but it was more about building an understanding of your Force signature, learning to trust your senses. The real training would then be individual for the student once they had a Master, so she had recommended these introductory readings on the various forms of combat and their use.
Those were afternoons I remembered with particular affection. Sitting in silence, she would take a more suitable book or bring her work documents on her datapad, and the hours would pass in an instant. Sometimes, I would glance at her to see what she was doing. She noticed every time, smiled slightly, and gently scolded me, telling me to return to my tasks.
I was happy. I felt cared for, appreciated, but not in the cold manner of a teacher with their student. It was a feeling I didn’t quite know how to place in my heart, and it worried me a bit, but I kept my doubts for another day.
On one of those quiet afternoons, I met Qimir. The room was particularly deserted that day, so the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard clearly along the shelves. Thinking it was the librarian, I didn’t pay much attention and remained with my nose buried in the book. Even when he stopped in front of our table I didn’t pay attention. Then, a deep male voice I didn’t recognize spoke Vernestra’s name.
Curiosity flared up in an instant, and as the two began a light conversation next to me, I slowly raised my gaze, the book almost serving as a shield, my hair partly covering my eyes. In front of us stood a young man in his twenties, dressed in the classic brown Jedi Knight attire, speaking casually to Vernestra. His slightly long, smooth hair, a light smile, and dark eyes framed by a chiseled jaw.
It was the first time I saw him. And the first time my heart beat so fast in my chest.
I didn’t know if it was because he was undeniably a handsome guy. I had never been too interested in that sort of thing, and anyway, it was forbidden for Jedi to have too impure thoughts. It was more... his aura. The amused smile but attentive eyes, the neat but relaxed posture... he seemed to shine with his own light. It was what I felt when I saw a member of the council, when I glimpsed Master Yoda in the corridors, reverence, respect, a bit of fear.
He was captivating, and he seemed to be aware of it.
I didn’t even realize that I had been staring at him longer than I should have. He noticed the insistent gaze on him. I must have looked quite ridiculous, a young girl hiding behind a book while staring at the great Jedi Knight, but the smile he gave me right after almost took my breath away as I blushed, perhaps for the first time in my life.
“And you must be the new Padawan who took my place. Nice to meet you, I’m Qimir” he said, extending a hand, and after casting a nervous glance at Vernestra, who was smiling at me, I hugged the book to my chest with one arm, my palm tingling, unsure whether to return the handshake.
Another inner turmoil came with that first touch. His hands had long, slender fingers, marked by numerous calluses, probably from gripping the lightsaber or the various missions he faced. It was just another reason why I started to admire him. I could see all the dots connecting in this figure that represented everything I wanted to become. A Jedi. A reference point for those in need.
I said my name in a low, timid voice, and he leaned towards me with a slight frown “Such a small voice, are you always like this, or am I making you nervous?” he joked, but I bit my lip, not knowing what to reply, I pulled my hand away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he began to gently rub my knuckles with his thumb.
“Leave her alone, Qimir. She’s shy, don’t start with your teasing” Vernestra scolded him, at which he let go. I hid my hand under the table, clenching it into a fist, my skin tingling.
“Sorry, sorry. It must be a relief for you to have someone like this after me” she sighed but didn’t deny it either, at which I let out a smile and he, noticing, winked at me.
That was the first time I had dealings with him. But soon I began to see him everywhere. When he wasn’t on a mission, he stayed around the temple, so I encountered him in the corridors, in the halls, in the meditation room, and he always had a kind smile for me.
He made me feel special even though I knew it was a selfish feeling. When I managed to study with other Padawans in the library or practiced in the courtyard, he always stopped by to give me a nod. My friends were jealous, but I wasn’t really offended. Qimir was... kind.
It was like seeing the Force alive and pulsing around him. It was impossible not to look at him, not to wish that he would glance at you even just once.
Everyone wanted to be like him. Charismatic. Confident. Everyone wanted to be his friend.
One of the first missions I did with Master Vernestra was another point of contact. Being young, I wasn’t yet allowed in particularly dangerous scenarios, not to mention that if there was one thing I was lacking in, it was combat. I followed the Master almost everywhere, political life was just as important in a Jedi’s path, and I had to understand the mechanics early on for when I would be older, even though they were often more moments of leisure.
The meetings lasted hours, often discussing places, people, and things I knew nothing about. I tried to stay focused, but it was really difficult, and even Vernestra thought I shouldn’t strain myself too much, so she let me roam around, maybe continue studying, or even just take a little break.
One day, ready to depart, we were loading the luggage onto the ship. We were going to spend a few days on Hoth, and I was incredibly excited since I had never experienced a planet with that kind of climate before. As I was lost in my thoughts, a light knock interrupted me. At the foot of the ramp, Qimir gave me a half-smile "Is there room for me too?" I was still intimidated by his presence since we had never really spoken before. I opened my mouth several times, glancing around awkwardly, not sure if he was teasing me or if I was too stupid to understand what he meant.
"I hope you didn’t bring your usual baggage" Vernestra said behind me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, confused "Excuse me Master, is Qimir coming with us?" I struggled even to pronounce his name, it felt like an insult to do so, as if I didn’t have enough experience to earn such a privilege.
"What, you don't want me around?" he smiled as he walked up the ramp. I squirmed uncomfortably, realizing the embarrassing situation I had caused "N-no, I didn’t mean that—" He smiled even more, but Vernestra intervened again, scolding him "Give her some space Qimir."
The plan was simple: it was a diplomatic mission, and Qimir had joined us to study for a few days with his former master. I didn’t know exactly what he needed, but he wanted her advice. We left a few minutes later, and I avoided the control room like the plague. I only entered once to ask how much longer it would take, burning alive under Qimir’s gaze, then I shut myself in the bedroom and did my homework.
Hoth was as beautiful as it was freezing. But it was worth it; I had never seen such an immense expanse of white, the ground soft underfoot from the snow, the ice mountains, creatures I had never seen before. Vernestra stopped to talk to some locals, and I approached the enormous door overlooking the ice field. I wondered if the entire planet was like this. Did anyone live in those isolated areas? How could anyone survive in such a harsh climate?
A gloved hand rested on my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned, expecting to see my master, but under the hood, it was Qimir’s dark eyes that looked at me with a gentle smile on his face.
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" he asked before turning back to look at the white expanse before us. I nodded hesitantly. Nervous about speaking to him, I bit my lip but managed to gather the courage "Do you know... if there’s anyone who lives in these lands?" He looked at me, puzzled, and I quickly corrected myself "I mean... besides the local species. Or aliens accustomed to these temperatures. Do you think others could live in a place like this?" He let out a small amused puff, "Well, we actually know for sure. There are many bandits or pirates hiding in these lands. Mainly to hide something, you know, it’s not worth sending search teams into snowstorms for a single man" he explained.
I made a sound of acknowledgment, but he continued "And if we’re talking about others... I think so. Someone who likes solitude or seeks peace. It seems like a good place not to be found" At that point, I turned toward him "Completely alone? It seems..." sad. But I was afraid to say it out loud, sadness wasn’t one of those emotions a Jedi should typically feel, but it felt natural to feel melancholy at the thought of people wanting to lose themselves in nothingness, to never be found again.
"Sad?" he seemed to read my mind "You see, emotions are very complicated to recognize. What might seem sad to you might mean peace to others. As Jedi, we often take many emotions for granted, but we often forget to give them context" I listened, hanging on his every word.
The conversation seemed... strange in some way. It made sense. Of course it did, he was older than me, had more experience in the field, and knew what he was talking about. I should have just nodded and thanked him for sharing those words.
I ignored the burning sensation I felt and thanked him in a faint voice It felt silly to do so, but it was the least I could do.
He smiled at me and gently took my hand "Let’s go, we need to warm up a bit. Trust me, in two more minutes, you won’t be able to feel the tip of your nose" he joked. I stifled a giggle and let him lead me inside toward the rooms. I didn’t know if it was because we were both wearing gloves or because of the conversation we had just had, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable being held by the hand.
A couple of days later, I was alone in one of the bases scattered across the ice. Vernestra was in a meeting and had forbidden me from attending due to the sensitivity of some of the information that would be exchanged. The problem was that these places weren’t particularly full of people or things to do. Yes, there was a bar area, but after the third cup of hot chocolate, I was afraid of pushing my stomach to the limit, so I stayed at the entrance, my feet in a pile of snow as I doodled or made small, questionable-looking statues.
I was so engrossed in the crooked little house I was shaping out of the ice that I didn’t notice the snowball being thrown in my direction.
I let out a startled yelp when it hit the hood on my head. I spun around just in time to see Qimir burst into laughter "Why did you do that?!" I stood up quickly, brushing the snow off my head.
"You looked so bored, I woke you up, didn’t I?" he chuckled.
I glared at him with a pout while he continued to laugh, so I decided to get revenge.
I bent down to grab a pile of snow, quickly making two balls. I threw the first one, but he easily dodged it.
He turned with an arrogant smile, ready to boast when the second one hit him square in the face.
I burst into laughter. He wiped the snow from his nose, his smile gone before bending down to grab more snow.
I shouted his name, realizing immediately what he was about to do, and started running through the snow with him on my heels. We didn’t even have time to make proper snowballs, we just grabbed the snow in our hands, compacted it as best we could, and threw it at each other in a never-ending war. Sometimes I noticed people giving us amused looks as they arrived or departed from the base, but I didn’t care, I was so happy that, for the first time, I didn’t even care what people thought of me.
An hour later, Vernestra called us back, giving us a confused look. She sighed and sent us to dry off. I felt a bit embarrassed at that moment, and I apologized for the childish behavior, but she smiled at me and assured me there was nothing wrong with what we had done.
In the end I took a full shower someone had left dinner on my bed, considering how long I had been under the hot water. I ate and, putting on one of the heavy local pajamas, decided to step out into the hallway to ask the Master what we would be doing the next day. I knew she wasn’t in bed yet, based on her nightly habits.
I walked down the hallway on the second floor, where the various guest rooms were located, when I noticed that her door was already open.
I approached slowly and immediately recognized Qimir’s voice.
"I’m just saying, if we block the main routes, they’d be forced to come out into the open" With a sense of curiosity, I pressed myself against the wall to peek into the room. The two were looking at an old map spread out on the table.
"I agree, but it would take too many resources, and we don’t know the exact times or routes. It would take a lot of time" she replied wearily. Qimir, standing next to her, bit his lip before flashing one of his smiles, "Or... we could sneak in"
She sighed again "The point is the same. We don’t have the resources—"
"I’ll go in myself. I’ll cut the power right under their noses, and—" She interrupted him with a wave of her hand.
"Do you realize what you’re saying? Sneaking in like a thief, and then what? Even if I let you do it, they could still escape, and..." He circled the desk, positioning himself in front of her, his back to me, so I barely heard what he said "No one said we need them alive—"
A sudden thud made me jump. I pressed my hands to my mouth, paralyzed, afraid they had heard me "No. Stop this nonsense, Qimir."
I don’t know what they said after that, I was too busy slipping back into my room, the conversation I had just overheard spinning in my head.
Sometimes, as a Jedi, you had to make drastic choices, right?
Or at least, it seemed that way.
I tried to forget about it and went to sleep.
#the acolyte#star wars#qimir#qimir x reader#qimir x oc#first person#jealousy#everyone is here for the age g4p#age g4p#manny jacinto#dead dove do not eat
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Dragon Blood
Chapter 2: Against his best wishes, Jace learns more about you. When the dragonseeds arrive at Dragonstone and you follow them to Vermithor, he has two choices, intervene and save you from inevitable death, or let fate play out.
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Dragonseed (f) reader
Jacaerys Velaryon stood alone in the study, the flickering candle casting shadows on the maps and documents spread on the table. Even though he had dismissed you, your presence lingered in his mind.
He knew he had been harsh, more so than necessary. That was not how he was raised to treat the staff. Rhaenyra had always emphasised the importance of respect and kindness towards those who served them. Yet, your having Targaryen blood had triggered something within him, a defensive reaction he couldn't quite understand. Those purple eyes of yours kept flashing in his mind.
You were beneath him, a mere servant. But you were also a potential threat to his legitimacy. If his mother's intentions to raise a bastard army were true, your very existence could undermine his claim to the throne.
Jace paced the room, his mind racing. In this cutthroat world of politics and power, he could trust no one but himself. Only he had his best interests at heart.
He clenched his fists. He would secure his place as heir, no matter the cost. He would show the dragon seeds that he was to be their king, the one true successor of the Targaryen dynasty.
Jace returned to his maps, his resolve unyielding. He knew he had to play carefully, balancing his duty to his family and his ambitions. The dragon seeds would see him as their rightful leader, along with the rest of Westeros, and he would ensure that any threats to his rule were swiftly dealt with.
••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••••••••••••••••••••
As he passed through the corridors, Jace caught sight of you scrubbing the floors of the great hall, a knocked over goblet next to you, spilling wine across the stone floor.
"You clumsy fool!" A steward barked, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you to your feet. "Do you know how long it took to clean this? You’ll redo the entire hall or go without supper for a week!"
Jacaerys’ eyes narrowed as he watched you flinch, the tears welling up in your eyes, the stammering apology—all of it struck something within him. A pang of sympathy. But another emotion surged within—anger.
How dare someone treat a Targaryen, even a bastard, with such disdain?
He gripped the hilt of his sword. The urge to intervene was strong. But he remained in the shadows.
Only Targaryens should have the power to be cruel to their own blood. No lowborn piece-of-shit steward had the right to mistreat you.
As the man finally released you, leaving you trembling, Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on him. His expression remained unreadable as he turned away, continuing down the corridor with a twisted resolve forming within him.
You were a Targaryen, however distant, and deserved better than this. Yet, you were also a possible threat to his claim.
The image of you, frightened and mistreated, stayed with him. He knew one thing for certain: if anyone dared to harm you again, they would pay a steep price. Only he had the right to decide your fate.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Jace soared through the sky on Vermax as he made his way back from the riverlands after securing an alliance with the Tullys.
As he flew over the market square, his keen eyes caught sight of a familiar figure.
You were making your way towards the castle, a basket of fruits in hand. Your pace was slow and thoughtful as you walked past a group of commonfolk, most of them blonde surrounded by guards. Jace watched as you curiously eyed them before approaching and speaking to one of them. Whatever they said to you seemed to spark something in you, and after a brief moment of contemplation, you continued into the castle, following them.
Jacaerys landed near the dragon pit, slipping off Vermax and making his way stealthily towards the castle. He moved discreetly through the corridors, eventually making his way to the throne room. Hiding behind an entrance, he observed as Rhaenyra Targaryen addressed the gathered common folk, her tone authoritative and promising.
His mother’s intentions became clear as she prepared to lead the dragonseeds to the dragon pit. Jacaerys' heart sank as he realised her plan was to introduce them to Vermithor. It was a dangerous idea and could turn deadly.
Quietly trailing behind them down to the dragon pit, he finally spotted you among them, your eyes wide with awe as you stared at the horrifying creature. Your naive fascination bothered him. How could you and the others be so ignorant of the obvious danger in front of you? The sheer recklessness of it all made him roll his eyes.
His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer. He remembered seeing you being berated by one of the castle stewards just a few days ago. He could see now why you might be desperate to claim a dragon; to rise above the life of a servant.
Rhaenyra walked past the group, and out of the dragon pit, Jace hid behind one of the doors, out of her sight. Then he seized the moment. He slipped past the crowd, moving swiftly so as not to get noticed.
You felt a hand grip your arm, pulling you back from the crowd and out of the room, before your back hit the rough surface of a stone wall in the corridor.
You blinked, shocked to see the Targaryen prince's stern face staring down at you. "My prince!" you exclaimed, struggling to pull free. "I know I told you I wouldn't. But the queen—"
Jacaerys cut you off, his voice low and urgent. "You need to leave. Rhaenyra has led these people to certain death."
Your eyes widened. That didn't sound right. Rhaenyra was always merciful, at least as far as you knew. Always considerate of the small folk. Surely, she wouldn't lead them to a trap.
Before you could protest, the roar of Vermithor filled the chamber. A blaze of fire erupted from the dragon’s jaws, catching the first volunteer. The sight was horrifying as the dragon began devouring the rest of the screaming volunteers.
Panic surged through you as the full scale of the danger became apparent. Jace held you firmly, guiding you away from the chaos. His grip was unyielding, but it was a lifeline in the midst of the nightmare unfolding before you.
As the smoke and fire filled the dragon pit, Jace pulled you to safety, his face set in grim determination. In that moment, you understood the gravity of the situation. The danger was undeniable, and as you fled with him, a new awareness dawned on you. You weren't safe here.
Tag list:
@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction
@rav9n-16
@dracaryxzs
@jacaeryvardaddy
@ericasabe
#hotd fanfic#jacaerys velaryon imagine#jacaerys valaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#eventual smut#hotd season 2#house of the dragon
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the offside rule || j.h.s
Summary: Jake learns that his girl is crazy about football, but not the kind he expected.
Warnings: jake being a sweetheart, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader
Authors Note: This is inspired by @roosterforme's Sundays Are for the Boys and @teacupsandtopgun's Jake and Flick universe. This is also very self-indulgent and somewhat based on parts of my life.
“What are you doing?” Jake emerged from the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend on the couch, watching what looked like soccer.
“I’m watching football, what does it look like?” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table.
Jake didn’t know how to respond. He knew what soccer was, he wasn’t an idiot but he never knew that his girl enjoyed the sport.
“Soccer, baby. It’s called soccer.”
Jake knew it was the wrong thing to say as she turned around, an unimpressed look on her face.
“I’m going to forgive you this time. But in the future, for your information, it’s called football. Not your ridiculous term soccer.” She was all business, a sharp edge to her tone that Jake hadn’t really experienced in their relationship so far.
There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?”
She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.”
“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”
She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers.
Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league.
“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing.
His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance.
In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did.
“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited.
“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.”
He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?”
“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad.
Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her.
“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field.
“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.”
That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject.
“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..”
Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.”
She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.”
“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.”
She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”
“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin.
She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way.
“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt.
“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?”
She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.”
“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed.
“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.”
Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.”
She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up.
If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement.
“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries.
“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.”
Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?”
“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically.
“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?”
Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”
She handed him another beer, smiling softly.
“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked.
He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game.
“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”
He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.”
“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.”
Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”
She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”
“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.”
The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.”
Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?”
Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home.
His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written.
Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United!
Ps. Come find me ;)
“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house.
Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”
Taglist: @wildbornsiren @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @honkytonk-hangman @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster@notroosterbradshaw @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics @septemberrie @somenamewithepineapple @seresinsweetie @crescentwolf @seresinhangmanjake @waklman @roosterforme @rosiahills22 @dempy @i0veless @ilovewriting06 @kmc1989 @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming @hangmanssunnies
#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#fe writes#fic: the offside rule#top gun maverick fic#jake seresin fic#jake seresin
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Loophole (Sub g!p Nayeon x Sub F!R)
Just wrote this because the thought of subxsub was completely burning my mind and honestly what other bratty sub could be as good as Nayeon?
I really hope y'all like it 💖💖💖 (gonna open my requests this week, love y'all!!!)
Cw: +18, g!p Nayeon, sub x sub, jerking off, mutual masturbation, lots of spit, cum eating, sloppy makeout, little bit of oral, creampie, unprotected sex, lots of pleading, a little bit of dubcon, not really proofread.
Finding a community on the bdsm world wasn't something easy. You searched a lot to find out what you were looking for and when you finally found it, it was a blessing. You learned a lot, but the most important: you learned you were a sub. It meant a lot to you to finally embrace that, to enjoy being told what you could and couldn't do and of course all the other aspects of it.
You also made friends, met real people with the same desires as you. Nayeon and Jeongyeon were two of these friends. They weren't exactly a couple, but you knew they had a D/S situationship going on. You also learned how different one sub could be from one another, Nayeon being the perfect example of the complete opposite of you. She could be bratty and very stubborn when she wanted to, going against her dom in the most defying ways; you were obedient and tended to be quite naive, not really letting yourself think too much when it came to pleasure. You let that to your partner.
Well, you just happened to get caught in the middle of the two of them.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
"She went on a business trip and told me not to touch myself" She whined, laying on your bed like a starfish. "How am I supposed to be like this for two weeks?" She pouted while you had your back turned to her, putting on a big tshirt over your smaller frame, only panties beside the tshirt.
"Well, I think she probably trusts you enough to know you'll obey" You said, pulling two lollipops from your backpack and handing her one.
"I think she wants me to fail..." You smiled rolling your eyes, lollipop in your mouth. She sat down watching you suck on it while scrolling through tiktok, her eyes trailed on your pretty lips as it enveloped the candy.
First she felt her mouth water, this heat going down from her belly to her cock and making it stiffen. You mindlessly smiled at her, not realizing she didn't have some dull expression, but rather a predatory one. Her head slightly cocked to the side and that playful, naughty little smile forming on her pretty lips.
"She told me not to touch myself" nayeon said, sitting closer to you with her legs crossed.
"I think you told me that already" You kept your eyes on your phone, not really picking on what your friend was saying. She huffed, rolling her eyes and lowering your phone from your face.
"Would you please be a good friend and help me?" She pouted a little, smiling right after.
"W-what?" Your voice sounded strained. "What do you mean 'Help you'?" She bit her lower lip, stretching her body back to show you what exactly she was talking about.
Her cock had formed this huge imprint on her shorts, you could see it basically suffocating inside it. Of course you knew Nayeon had a dick, she liked bragging about how big it was but damn it... seeing it in real life was a whole new deal.
"Unnie..." You gulped, doe eyes staring up at her. "I don't think Jeongyeon will like that" She squeaked out a frustrated sigh, rolling her eyes.
"But I am not breaking any rules!" Nayeon said, grabbing your hand and putting it over her clothed cock. "Do you think I can live like this for ten more days?" She shivered when you palmed it ever so lightly.
"I-think it's going to be very uhm..." You were going to say hard but that would not sound good. "D-Difficult" You felt your panties dampening, moving your hand with a bit more force and making her close her eyes.
"Just jerk me off, please" She said a bit out of breath, unbuttoning her shorts and pulling her hard cock out. It was leaking so much precum you wondered if she came already. "Let me use your hand sugar, please..." She moaned, forcing your hand to hold her cock; not really forcing, you just let her do it.
Her cock was big and warm and you felt yourself clench when she bucked her hips for the first time, biting back a moan. Nayeon closed her eyes, tossing her head back to open her pretty lips; you felt hypnotized, not knowing where to look at: her expression or her huge cock fucking your hand.
"feels t-too good" she slurred. "More, please" You didn't know what to do, nor what to say to her. You were conflicted, not really knowing what your next step should be. As she fucked your hand her eyes went back to that lollipop inside your mouth, pulling it out and tossing it out of the way of her tongue.
You two kissed, not really caring for teeth clashing or spit, very sloppy and wet, moaning against each others lips as she bucked her hips even harder against your hand.
"let me help you too" she said panting against your lips as her big hand found her way to your own panties, making you mewl. "lord, you are so wet" She moaned, rubbing your clit.
It was a beautiful, sinful sight. You jerking her off as she rubbed your clit, bucking your hips against her hand, nearly screaming against each others lips to try and satisfy that hunger you two had for each other's touch.
"please let me cum" You cried out, asking completely out of habit. Nayeon nodded, closing her eyes.
"gonna cum too-oh my fucking god" She fucked your hand harder, biting your lower lip as she spilled her hot seed on your hand and clothed tummy, your cum coating her fingers too as she kept rubbing your pussy up and down.
You two kept kissing, licking each other's faces in an obscene display of contentement. Your clit kept pulsing inside your panties as you brought your hand to your lips, licking off her cum and she did the same.
"I don't think it was enough..." She said, giving her furiously red cock a look. "Let me fuck you, please" She pushed you onto your mattress, already pushing your knees apart.
"unnie, we can't. Jeongyeon ..." you tried to say but she was out of her mind, already pulling your panties to the side.
"just the tip baby, please" She cried out, her cheeks pink and her lips completely puffy because of your little makeout session. You pushed her but she wouldn't move for anything. "I need you, please don't let me hanging like this" She pleaded.
"j-just the tip" you breathlessly agreed and she smiled, Nayeon loved getting everything her way.
She stared at your pussy for a moment and moaned loud and clear, spitting on her cock and jerking off a bit. You shivered, watching her eyes darken when her cock touched your warm pussy for the first time.
She tossed her head back as her fat tip already felt so good inside you. She scratched your thighs and you bit the back of your hand when she shallowly thrusted upwards, clenching on her throbbing dick. She lowered her body to kiss you and you two went back to the sloppiest makeout session ever as you scratched her back.
"let me put it all in baby" she cried out, her eyes closed.
You nodded your head no, not really understanding why. It just felt wrong doing all that but it felt so good.
Nayeon grabbed both your hands and pinned them to the sides of your head, easing her whole length inside. You both screamed, your kisses getting messier by the second, a mix of screams, spit and tears from both of you.
She pounded relentlessly inside of you, the wet sounds being muffled only by the two of you moaning, screaming each other's names. You couldn't tell which one was shaking harder and actually you didn't wanted to know, the only thing you wanted was to not stop.
"unnie I'm gonna cum" you screamed out, your vision blurred by the tears and the pleasure.
"me too, fuck fuck fuck" she said through gritted teeth, not stopping when she felt you squirting all over lower half, pounding harder and harder until her balls were empty and your pussy dripping her seed.
She kept humping, saying incoherent things against your neck as she suddenly took it off of you to lower her face to your cunt to eat you out, licking her cum and yours until you passed out due to the force of the first and second orgasm.
She was out of her mind, cleaning you until she drank all of your mixed juices, going up to spit them back into your mouth.
You two kept that for what felt like hours, making out until your jaw hurt. When you finally were able to breathe you realized how screwed she was.
"jeongyeon is gonna punish you so badly" you said, feeling her heavy cock resting against your thigh.
"No she won't, she told me not to touch myself" Her naughty tone was evident. "She never told me anything about getting help" She sighed, feeling your warm body with her hands.
"I don't know if that's fair..." Your obedient little mind couldn't keep up with her brattiness.
"Fair or not, pretty girl..." She kissed you again, humping your thigh. "Let's call it a loophole..."
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The MOST Difficult Birth Chart Placements
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
DISCLAIMER
The descriptions of difficult placements are based on astrological teachings and are not definitive or absolute. It is important to remember that every individual is unique, and a natal chart should be considered holistically. Challenging placements can also present opportunities for growth and personal development. The purpose of this post is to affirm your life experience.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
8H MOON or 12H MOON
Having an 8H Moon means dealing with deep transformations & crises. This placement often brings you face-to-face with your deepest fears, traumas, and hidden desires. Every experience seems to touch you on a soul-deep level. Crises and intense situations are a part of your emotional journey, and they shape who you are in significant ways. It’s like life keeps pushing you to transform, to shed old skins and emerge anew, stronger and more resilient each time.
But this depth also means you carry a lot inside. Your emotional world is complex and layered, full of nuances that others might not easily understand. You might struggle with trusting people, afraid to let them see the raw, vulnerable parts of you. It can be lonely, carrying these intense feelings, but it also gives you incredible strength & insight into complex emotions others shy away from or suppress.
With a 12H Moon, subconscious struggles and hidden fears are brought to the surface. This placement may feel like your emotions are a mystery even to you, often leading to a sense of isolation or self-undoing (unless managed). Moon in the 12H brings your unconscious thought patterns to light, making your emotions feel elusive and hard to pin down–almost like trying to catch smoke with your hands.
You might find yourself wrestling with feelings that you can’t quite understand or explain. This can manifest in moments of self-undoing, where your unresolved issues pull you into patterns of self-sabotage.
It’s tough because your emotions are so deeply buried that it’s hard to bring them to light. But acknowledging these hidden parts of yourself is the first step toward healing. Learn to listen to those quiet, internal nudges and understanding that it’s okay to feel lost sometimes. Sit in the uncertainty, you will find the way.
CAPRICORN OR AQUARIUS MOON
Saturn-ruled moons often equate vulnerability with weakness, and this fear can prevent them from forming deep emotional connections. This placement can also symbolize having a strong sense of responsibility from a young age, therefore feeling burdened by the need to succeed and provide. Remember those times when you felt like you had to grow up faster than everyone else? While other kids were playing, you were already thinking about the future, about success, about PROVIDING. It’s a heavy burden to carry, and it can make you feel like you’re constantly walking uphill.
This placement means you’re incredibly disciplined, which is a strength, no doubt. But it also means you might feel an overwhelming pressure to succeed. You set the bar HIGH, and anything less than perfection feels like failure. It’s a relentless but exhausting drive, a need to always prove yourself, to always be enough.
Imagine carrying a backpack filled with rocks, each one representing a responsibility, a fear, a self-imposed standard. How much lighter would you feel if you could set that backpack down, even just for a moment? Vulnerability is a form of courage. It’s saying, “Here I am, with all my flaws and fears,” and still showing up.
SCORPIO OR ARIES MOON
Mars-ruled Moons feel things INTENSELY, but that can get overwhelming. For Scorpio, there's a push & pull, as you navigate through the intensity of your emotions or deep-seated fears. Trust is a big deal for you, and it doesn’t come easily. You’ve probably been hurt before, and those wounds run deep. It’s hard to let people in when you’re constantly bracing for the next betrayal or disappointment. You build walls around your heart, not because you don’t want to love, but because you’re scared of what might happen if you do.
Jealousy and possessiveness can creep in, adding to the emotional turmoil. When you care about someone, you care fiercely, and the thought of losing them can drive you to places you don’t want to go. It’s not that you want to control them, but the fear of losing them or being hurt again can be overwhelming.
This intensity is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gives you a deep, intuitive understanding of others. You can see through facades and connect with people on a profound level. On the other hand, it can feel like you’re constantly battling with your own emotions, trying to find a balance between holding on and letting go.
You’re a warrior (Mars) in your own right, fighting battles that most people can’t even see. It’s okay to feel vulnerable and to acknowledge that this emotional intensity is a part of who you are. It’s okay to take things slow, to let trust build over time, and to find ways to soothe that inner turmoil.
Instead, Aries Moons feel everything intensely & immediately–your emotions can flare up quickly. Patience isn’t your strongest suit, so you might find yourself reacting before even having time to think things through, pointing to emotional burnout. When you get mad, you get MAD. Your temper can flare up in an instant, and before you know it, you’ve reacted without even thinking things through.Your emotions are right there bubbling on the surface, ready to explode. Of course, this can lead to misunderstandings and clashes with the people around you.
But here’s the thing, you also bring energy and excitement to everything you do. When you’re happy, you light up the room: your enthusiasm is contagious. It’s okay to acknowledge that this intensity can be tough to handle. It’s okay to admit that sometimes, you need to step back and breathe before reacting. Learning to take a moment, to pause and reflect, can help you manage those quick flares of emotion and prevent burnout.
1H SATURN OR SATURN CONJUNCT ASCENDANT
This placement can indicate that you’ve had to grow up fast, carrying a sense of responsibility that kids your age didn’t even think about. There’s this underlying pressure to be perfect, to always have it together, to be the rock for everyone else. In those moments when the burden feels too heavy, remember that it’s okay to put it down for a while. It’s okay to take care of yourself and to recognize your own worth, not just for what you do, but for who you are. You’re not alone in this journey, and it’s okay to ask for help. Carrying the weight has made you strong, but sharing the load can make you even stronger.
1H PLUTO
Power struggles, constantly re-inventing yourself & healing the deep issues that people usually shy away from, are a big theme for 1H Pluto. You might find yourself on the brink of change every 5 business days, asserting your dominance & affirming your power. There are moments when everything feels like it’s crumbling around you, and you’re left to pick up the pieces and start anew. It’s exhausting and can make you feel like you’re never truly settled, never truly yourself. But each time you rebuild, you become stronger, more resilient, and more in tune with your true self.
4H PLUTO
This placement can symbolize a tumultuous home life, where finding a sense of stability & security was incredibly difficult. These dynamics may have left deep emotional scars, making you wary of getting too close or trusting people too easily. Your home environment might have been complex, with unspoken rules and hidden agendas shaping your early experiences. Growing up might have felt like walking on eggshells, never knowing when the next emotional storm would hit. You know what it’s like to face the darkness and come out the other side. You’ve learned to navigate emotional depths that others might shy away from, and this makes you incredibly strong and compassionate.
VENUS SQUARE/OPPOSITE SATURN, CAPRICORN OR AQUARIUS VENUS:
You might feel like there’s an invisible barrier blocking you from truly connecting with others–but it's not that you don’t want closeness—it’s that you’re terrified of being hurt, of opening up and then being rejected. This fear can make it hard to let people in, even when your heart is longing for connection. You might find yourself questioning if you’re worthy of love. There’s this lingering doubt that no matter how much you give or how hard you try, it’s never enough. This can lead to a cycle of pushing people away just when they start to get close, out of fear that they’ll leave you first. It’s a defense mechanism, but one that often leaves you feeling even more isolated and lonely. These struggles aren’t just in your head—they’re real, and they’re tough. But recognizing them is the first step towards healing. It’s about understanding that this aspect of your chart isn’t a life sentence, but it’s a challenge to be faced and overcome. Remember, you are worthy of love and affection just as you are. The journey might be tough, but it’s one that leads to deeper, more meaningful connections and a stronger sense of self. Embrace your vulnerability, because it’s through facing these fears that you’ll find true, lasting love.
12H MARS
This can be a tough placement because it often feels like you’re fighting battles no one else can see. There’s a tendency towards self-sabotage, as the aggressive energy of Mars turns inward. You might find yourself in situations where you feel unable to express the intensity of your emotions or assert your power. You may even find it hard to assert yourself openly, leading to suppressed anger & frustration that festers over time. The key is flipping the script, and working on empowering yourself, healing self-sabotaging tendencies, etc. Your subconscious isn’t your enemy, but a part of you that needs acknowledgment and care.
4H MARS
You might have grown up in an environment where arguments & tensions were the norm, leaving you feeling constantly on edge, scared, or unsettled. This placement can make it hard to find peace at home, and you might struggle with feeling safe & secure in your adult life. Finding healthy outlets for your anger and learning to create a sense of security within yourself can help transform that destabilizing, Mars energy into something positive. It can help you break the cycle of conflict and create a home environment that nurtures you rather than wounds.
1H CHIRON
Chiron in the 1H feels like carrying a wound that no one else can see, but that you can always feel. It's a deep pain tied to your identity, that constant struggle with self-acceptance & stepping out of your shell. You might often find yourself second-guessing who you are, feeling like you need to hide parts of yourself to be accepted. It’s like wearing a mask, trying to be who you think others want you to be because being your true self feels too risky. Maybe you faced criticism that cut deep and left scars on your self-esteem. This can make stepping into the spotlight, or even just being comfortable in your own skin, incredibly challenging. But, as you work through your own pain, you become a beacon of hope and support for others. Your vulnerability becomes your strength, showing others that it’s okay to have wounds, to feel out of place and that healing is possible. In embracing your true self, flaws and all, you inspire others to do the same.
This is Part 1! Let me know if you want to see more placements and the difficulties they can indicate.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely. • 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :) • 🗡️ BOOK A READING with me to navigate your life with more clarity & awareness.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
#astro community#astro observations#astrology#astrology signs#horoscope#zodiac#capricorn#aquarius#aries#scorpio#chiron#mars#pluto#astrology tips#astrology notes#zodiac signs#astrology readings#astro notes#astrology placements#astrologer#astro placements#astro posts#zodiac observations#zodiacsigns
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Yandere Castiel pining over Jimmy Novak's best friend (S4)—why do you care for his vessel and not him?
Yandere Castiel became aware of your presence the day he became aware that Jimmy Novak was the person who would be his vessel. He didn't think much of you, simply another human amongst all the others. However, all humans are his father's creations. You seemed like what could be called a good friend—loyal. That is something he could relate to. A loyalty that in the beginning he respected wholeheartedly.
A positive beginning that aged like hard cider into a celestial being's desire of possession and obsess.
Yandere Castiel first met you face to face after possessing Jimmy's body. You had heard about his vessel's troubles and had come rushing over. It's an experience he will never forget.
You parked your vehicle in the driveway and ran out of your car in a panic. He could feel your heightened anxiety and panic, and he almost felt something. It was so peculiar. It made his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up.
He was planning on simply leaving, but you stood in front of him and pestered him with questions. When Jimmy's daughter came out, you told her, 'Me and your daddy are just going for a walk. He isn't feeling well, so we are going to get some fresh air.' Which Castiel thought was ludicrous. He tried to rebuff by telling you 'He is an angel of the Lord and that Jimmy Novak is his vessel—to which you promptly clamped your hand over his mouth and scolded him.
He isn't entirely sure why he got in your human vehicle. He could have simply whisked himself and continued on the mission heaven gave him. He was supposed to. Still, with this unfamiliar reaction to you, he couldn't help but rationalize it as you being important to the celestial plane somehow.
So that's how he ended up in a human hospital with you filling out papers that pertain to Jimmy.
Yandere Castiel found no need to pretend, so that's how he ended up dragging you into angelic affairs. Or perhaps it was the other way around. You were quite insistent on staying near him after he explained the situation to the extent he was allowed. There wasn't even a hesitance on your part. You were simply protective over his vessel, despite the fact he is the multidimensional being inside the vessel.
That's when that odd sensitivity popped up once again.
It was almost like you were just as concerned for him as you were for Jimmy. It was quite a useless emotion for you to have, but he was still... flattered? by it.
Yandere Castiel reluctantly separated himself from you to an extent. You had attracted attention from both heaven and hell, so he had to. He had to. Right?
Heaven wasn't pleased with him getting distracted. They essentially wanted to allow you to wander back into the world with no angelic protection. It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Now Castiel is no stranger to that. He's watched his brothers and sisters slaughter humans for much less egregious acts. Though this time it felt wrong.
He ended up warding you from all angels, including himself, with your consent, of course. He left a specific engraving on your ribs that roughly translates to 'mine. touch this human and I will smite you where you stand.'
Yandere Castiel felt as if his grace had been ripped from him when he was away from you. Could God have created you specially for him? It was an impossible thought. One no angel should have for a human. That's how mighty beings fall. It is heaven's number one rule not to love anything, not even the humanity their God created.
He pushed himself into the mission he was given and tried to ignore the sizzling sensation all over his celestial body. It's a spiritual reaction to being left without your presence for an extended period of time.
He worked with Uriel, then had to kill his brother. He had to kill many more for you to protect you. He met the Winchesters and learned about them; grew attached. Anna tempted him into developing the capacity for human emotion. He was so lost. You were; you are the only thing that makes him feel found—safe.
He took that safety from himself in order to protect you.
Foolishly, he seeked you and, in return, your presence.
That's when heaven knew they had to reprimand him.
Yandere Castiel experienced things up there that would physically not only break a lesser being's psyche but erase it. If anything, it only made that sizzling sensation evolve into a scorching one. It was as if his feathers were being stripped off one by one. An unforgiving hand that forces him towards you. The heart he doesn't have broke and learned to yearn.
Like an obedient soldier, he listened to their words. He swore his loyalty once again, and he was allowed back onto Earth. He didn't go to Jimmy first, no. He scoured the earth and thought you were gone for good until you called for him. That was a rash human decision. You were only hidden unless you made yourself known.
Yandere Castiel had to come and see you. He had to explain himself and rid this fiery ache from his celestial body. Only when he came to your call, your first question was about Jimmy, not him. You looked past him. You ignored the agony that was everywhere on him.
Why? That feeling didn't ease at your lack of care for the angel in front of you.
Your demands to know where Jimmy was and if his family was safe fell deafly on him. He had to put you in your place. Yes, it was out of anger and hurt, but also a certain amount of righteousness he felt he had to regain. You belong to him, even if you don't like it.
"I learned my lesson while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don’t serve man. And I-I certainly don’t s-serve... you."
He's just an obedient little soldier who has been broken by you.
#supernatural#supernatural x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere supernatural#yandere supernatural x reader#castiel#supernatural fic#castiel x reader#castiel novak#castiel novak x reader#yandere castiel#yandere castiel x reader#yandere angel#one sided love#angst no comfort#soft yandere
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Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?
This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.
Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.
As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.
Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.
When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.
Carrying vs. Pulling:
Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.
Warhorse Size Categories:
Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.
Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.
Light-Weight Horses:
A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.
Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.
Medium-Weight Horses:
Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.
Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.
Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.
Heavy-Weight Horses:
The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.
Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.
Ponies:
While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.
Europe-Specific Terminologies:
If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:
Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.
Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.
Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.
Coursers:
Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.
Rouncey:
A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.
It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.
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