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#and im old enough to remember knowing him at one point
sparklingcid3r · 3 days
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ik in the musical they changed it from darry to darrel bc it sounds close to dally, but in a deeper way what is ur hc of how in the book only the socs call darry 'darrel' and also now in the musical that darry is in charge everyone calls him darrel? what do u think that switch was like for him, and how did his brothers react to it?
you’ve come to the right place bc i LOVEEE overanalyzing the whole name thing. reaching is my favorite pastime fr. i’m gonna try and answer ur ask and then some bc i feel so strongly abt this deadass (me making up for the fact that idk how long this has been sitting in my inbox without me knowing, anon im so sorry lmfao🙏)
i think darry probably just went by darrel at school because the right to call him darry was reserved for the people he grew up with. my own hc is that paul used to be one of the only people from school who called him darry because of how close they were, but paul didn’t stick to one name, he switched between darry and darrel. tho after the fallout, it’s exclusively darrel or just “curtis,” as a way to distance himself from the fact that they were once closer than he cares to admit.
as for the musical, i could definitely believe that at least pony and soda grew up calling him darry, but stopped as they grew older, like outgrowing a kid’s toy. especially when their parents died, the name darry kind of died with them, it’s a relic of their innocence that they can’t use anymore without remembering what they’ll never get back.
i kind of also want to get into why the coordinators of the musical chose to change darry’s name over dally’s, when they just as easily could have had dally go by dallas and kept darry’s nickname. and this is where the reaching starts so don’t take me seriously i’m just being a D1 yapper rn
but to me the decision to keep dally’s nickname is a symbol of the fact that dally literally is a child. to the average audience member who has little to no knowledge of the source material, “dally” is probably a little bit childlike and serves to remind them that no matter how touch he acts, they’re watching a kid make incredibly big decisions for other kids
darrel meanwhile is the designated adult of the group, and that’s only by circumstance, not because he genuinely is old enough/has enough maturity to handle it. but by taking away his nickname, it emphasizes the point to readers/movie watchers that darrel can’t afford to be seen by anyone as too young or childish, not even the audience. he’s hiding behind even his name to put up the illusion that he knows what he’s doing, where they’re going, how they’re going to get there.
but yall ik this is some crazy headcanoning i’m just a girl having fun lmfao🫶
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the-kneesbees · 4 months
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just watched my brother graduate
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marcmorrigan · 7 months
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@fenglianweek day 6: memories/growing up
the best thing thats ever been mine
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princessmyriad · 5 months
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#must not text him texting him is the growth killer#must not text him texting him would be bad because it will make us feel bad and its my fucking bday this weekend#im not letting me do that to us#but fucking god i miss him rn and a lot lately 😭😮‍💨 was there a traumaversary i didnt know about??#the only him related traumaversary already happened in feb and we handled it pretty fairly well (mostly due to the ffected being dormant)#but still like. what did i do last year for my bday? what did we do the year before he was probably there then but i dont remember feeling#this way around last bday? which he prroobbabblyy wasnt there for? time is not easy for me#idk its driving me crazypants lately like i miss him so much i thought he was my everything forever he told me he would be#but hes not and he never was and hes done a lot to hurt me but none of it was on purpose he was never mean or violent#and looking at old pictures we look so fucking good together and old chats the way he talked to me was so sweet and but that doesnt change#the fact that at this point in time and probably never again is he actually here#fuck this noise man ive got a cute outfit ready im going to the local museum with my grandma for my bday day#and ive got weed and tunes planned for the evening there are so many things to look forward to coming soon why#why do i seem to be stuck in the past lately. like not in active ptsd mode im not triggered as the kids love to say but i just cant stop#thinking abt him and the whole relationship and wishing he was here. wishing he never left? or more like wishing hed come back#hoping that hes changed enough and that i have too to make it work. i keep having awful visions of him coming to my door after a life attemp#and im so mad at him but i cant leave him out here so of course i invite him in to care for him and make sure hes ok#and its awful because it feels like a whisper away from being reality. its too close to what could be real#and its awful not because its a dream but because the closeness to what could be reality hurts so much when logic kicks in#and i know its not reality no matter how dang close it seems#personal#i think im splitty lately. im losing more time than usual and i cant get this boy outta my head.#i hope hes a lingering thought and not a permanent resident oh that would fuck us up so so bad#idk. idk dude! everythings fucked up atm im doing a lot of personal growth but im also behind on so many other things#i just want him out of my brain. its my fucking goddamn birthday and im making this one a good one for fucking once#i can handle the other shit later but this one do be fucking me up in a major way lately the last few days. weeks? who knows
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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bad idea, right? // theodore nott x fem reader
part 2 for but daddy i love him!
playlist: bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo
"im sure ive seen much hotter men but i really cant remember when!"
summary: you agreed to go out with theodore nott and you did infact go on a date with him! however ever since your date with him youve been doubting your judgement.
y/n used , part 2 , gryffindor granger reader , swearing , mention of dr*gs and alcohol , not proof read
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its been a week since theodore nott confronted you in that classroom. and its been a day since the date you went on with him. it was nothing too special ,just coffee in hogsmeade and overall it was great!!...except from when some guy in slytherin came over asking if theo wanted his 'weekly supply of the good stuff'.
you had almost gagged on the spot. being a muggleborn , throughout all of your muggle education you were preached about the evil of drugs. so when theodore smirked and whispered something to the guy before showing him off.....you got the ick.
and its been 24 hours since then, and youre going crazy about it.
"girls , i cant condone drug use!! that shit is fucked up!" you screeched as you paced a hole into the carpet of your shared dorm.
lavender , parvati and hermione all stared at you with concern , having listened to you panic and rant for the past half an hour.
"y/n we know! but i mean you cant even know that it was what youre thinking! cmon you were the one that protected his character like he was a saint a few days ago!!" hermione argued back, trying to calm you.
"before , i knew he was doing drugs!! WEEKLY!" you cried , collapsing onto your bed as the three girls stood up and surrounded you.
"i mean...whats so bad about that?....the gryffindor guys do it at parties all the time-" lavender started before parvati threw her a harsh glare , making her stop her scentence.
"its more about that its making me question if i really know him well enough to commit to dating him!" you groaned , face down into your pillow.
"y/n i think youre being dramatic! you like him too much and now youre scared. its okay lots of people get like that dont worry!" hermione sympathised.
you paused at this , eyes widenening at the thought that this was likely very true. you did like theodore. a lot. maybe more than you found comfortable. and now you were finding a way to shut out the overwhelming feelings.
at this epiphany you sat up , eyes wide and mouth dropped open.
"youre right mione. i think im gonna take a small distance from him and...firgure it out!.... yeah... figure it out.." you mumbled quietly as you got up from your bed , your friends staring at you wearily , "i mean theres always hotter guys out there and it was always a bad idea...right?".
you looked at your friends with red cheeks and a hesitant expression , they stared back as you took slow steps towards the door before bolting out of it , running down the stairs before they can stop you.
"y/n-!" parvati shouted trying to stop you before the girls stood in stunned silence , "ive never seen someone change mood and mind so quickly..."
"shes going to avoid him , isnt she?" lavander said knowingly as the other two girls noddly grimly.
"yeah...she definetly is." hermione sighed.
----
and that you did! youve been avoiding theodore nott like the plague for three whole days and it was driving everyone around you insane.
ron. he had been walking with you in the corridors , slowly commuting to potions when you eyes spotted something in the distance with great suprise and terror. the next second you sprinted the way you and ron had come from. leaving ron extremely confused and left to walk to potions alone , and getting points taken off by snape when he was the only late person.
harry. you swore that you would watch him practice quidditch and give him pointers on how to improve his technique - you were the old gryffindor seaker before you quick months after joining. but after finding out slytherin and gryffindor were sharing the pitch that day , you never bothered to show up. harry was mad at you for days , knowing the reason was your avoidance of theodore. yet you denied it and said you were ill.
hermione. you were studying with hermione in the library , both of you equally focused on the task at hand , until you perked up at the sound of a deep familiar voice walking towards you and hermiones area of the library. you gasped in suprise before ducking under the table , spilling a pot of ink in the process all over hermione pages. she gasped also , but in pure horror , and thankfully was able to cast a spell to clean the ink before being distracted by someone standing infront of the table you were studying on.
theodore. if anyone could be described as going insane at your constant avoidance , it was theo himself. he had been practically ripping his hair out everytime you avoided his eyes , or walked in the opposite direction when he approached. of course he had noticed , there wasnt a single moment he didnt notice you. and every time you left or ran away , he became more and more desperate.
so now he stands infront of you sister in the library , fist clenched in the deep desperation to see you; to know what he did wrong.
"where is she granger." he said through gritted teeth.
"nott , im actually quite busy cleaning the ink off me , so a little more context to who 'she' is would be great in this moment!" hermione argued in a annoyed tone as the smoothed down her recovering parchment.
"y/n!" theodore replied in more of a shout , making hermione jump and loud hushes echo through the library in response.
"oh!...oh...shes right h- ow!" hermione screeched as you hit her from under the table shaking your head furiously , "yknow what ive had enough of this , you WILL talk to the boy and you WILL sort this out. everyone is sick out it y/n so come out NOW!"
hermione pure fury and demanding tone made you cower at your older sister , before slowly coming out from under the table with deep embrassament.
theo watched as you came out and stood infront of him , head down , "theodore-".
you words were cut short as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the library , avoiding your protests and tugging.
he dragged you in the same manner , through the dungeons and through the slytherin common room , until you reached what you supposed to be his dorm.
then he pushed you infront of him , the back of your legs hitting the wood of a bed frame as you stumbled for balance , watching him pace the room.
"you have to tell me what i did , please PLEASE tell me what i did because i cannot go on any longer with you avoiding me!" he stammered.
you silenty watched as he try to push out his words , the consequences of your actions setting in.
"i-..i got second thoughts-"
"WHY!" he shouted back , walking towards you.
"because - because... YOU DO THE GOOD STUFF!" you finally stammered out as he stared back , dumbfounded.
there was a short pause of silence as he blinked in confusion , "...what the fuck is the good..stuff?..."
"DRUGS!" you finally let out with a sigh of relief , like a weight had been lifted off your chest.
"you-..i-...what the fuck?!" he breathed out in shock , eyes wide , "i- i dont do fucking drugs!"
"oh yeah? then who was that boy on our date? he asked if you wanted your weekly supply nott!" you shouted, angered by his denial.
he stared into your eyes with pure confusion before seeming to peice things together in his mind , his exression dropping.
before he laughed hysterically , holding your shoulder for support.
"what...why...why are you laughing?" you asked, bewildered.
"the good stuff..is..its not drugs!" he let out between loud laughs , "its fucking chocolate!"
your jaw dropped as you stared at you bankly , "what- what do you mean?!"
"this boy in our year - in slytherin - he gets chocolate from his mum every week , he hates it and doesnt want it to go to waste every week..so he gives it to me because i really like it!" he continued to laugh through his explanation as you cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
"what-...i-..who the fuck calls chocolate the good stuff!?!" you screehced in pure shame , theodores wheezing drowing out your feelings as you begin to laugh with him.
after a few seconds of theodore collecting himself he grinned and looked you in the eyes , holding your face softly , making your breathe hitch and giggles cease , "i cant believe you actually thought that.why would i ruin my godly body with that stuff?"
you smacked his arm as he smirked and winked , both of you laughing , "i guess i just...i got scared , truthfully , i like you a lot theo and i guess i was just begging to not...falll for you."
"so you avoided me? rather than speaking to me?" his eyes saddenned as your heart shattered at the sight.
"im so sorry teddy , ive- ive never had a boyfriend before im new to this feelings and- its terrifying it really is!" you desperatly tried to reason to him , words speeding out of your mouth.
he softly ran a hand through your hair , eyes seeping with adorations as a soft smile found his lips, "i know. dont worry i get it. just...dont avoid me ever again - just talk to me, okay?"
you nodded swiftly as he smiled brightly at you.
"now...how about we lay down and just...talk. then you can really get to know me and never misjudge again..sound good?" he whispered.
"sounds like heaven." you smiled back at him , his lips finding yours much softer than your first exchange , with much more love and delicacy.
for the next few hours you did exactly that , talking and talking. you talked about everything- you even told him your favourite film , of course its the little mermaid.
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gamblersdoll · 3 months
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an: this one may not be suitable for all readers
sometimes you were a nasty bitch. like, really, really a nasty bitch.
so nasty to where you tended to like being called a slut, some cockdrunk whore from down the street who loves big men.
so nasty to where you loved being spat on, a man so mean to you and pulling at your hair like handlebars. even when your black tears of mascara dripped down your face.
so nasty to where you had fantasies about your boss bending you over his desk and fucking into you for such a raise, it became a one time thing.
so nasty that youre fucking your best friends father. and not only that, your friends father knew you for so, so long.
you had came back from college, coming home for summer break and seeing all of your old friends from highschool. of course, you had to see your best friend, megumi.
megumi and you were tight, staying together as best friends since you were practically kids was the longest relationship youve ever even had. of course, there was ups and downs, but its reality.
you had came home only last week, settling in at megumis house because yours was full of people your sibling had over. you, knowing that megumi’s house was your second home, went there second.
and to your disappointment, megumi was staying at yuuji’s house for a bit. no biggie, you knew his father well enough. toji was more the quiet and speak when spoken to type. ever so rarely would he speak first, but when he did it was sometimes either sarcastic or serious.
“you can stay in megumi’s room, you know where its at.” he pointed, not facing you and only finding his shoes to go off to his gym for that couple of hours.
that was a mere day ago when that was said.
sometimes toji did want to just ramble, so every now and again, hed just start a conversation with you when both are in the kitchen.
“yeah, megumi’s mother and i had divorced a couple of years ago. it was stressful, to say. but sometimes that just happens.” he vented, not seeming too fazed by it. he was somewhat right, marriages did come with divorce too, but its all about the persons.
“im sorry to hear.” you mumble, fingers tapping on the mason jar. “on a brighter note! how have you been this week?” you try to change subject, usually being great at this.
“ive been good.” he blankly says back, washing whatever dishes could be in the sink and occasionally looking at you. god, youve grown up so much— and fast too. he remembers when you were just barely moving here and you befriending megumi.
was it wrong that he was looking at his sons friend like this? maybe. and was it wrong you were somewhat looking at his print too? definitely.
that was almost four days ago when that was said.
you both were more open to conversations, both bored and of course megumi was coming over any time soon. so what harm was in having a conversation with his father?
“im glad you passed, youve always been great with color guard.” he praises, a small smile until he involuntarily licks at his scar.
things like that could make a girl hot and bothered. no, thats wrong. thats nasty.
but you could feel his lingering eyes on your grown up body, seeing the curves you developed and the pretty ass thighs you got from the slight athleticism. youre shaped so good, could make a grown man hot and bothered.
“you know..” he trails off, finally peeling his eyes from you and then staring at his phone again.
the relationship between you two spirals, soft touches that can be seen as innocent, but only you two know what either of your actions mean. and because of toji having to be a single dad at some point, his cooking could speak volumes. volumes that you could fuck him good with.
that was a week ago.
you were really some nasty bitch that was hidden with your face and mouth.
telling by the way you sat back, legs spread wide and toji having his face in your cunt.
“how the fuck do you taste even sweeter when i go back for it..?” he growls the question, hands supporting under your thighs to keep them apart. “so fucking wet.”
your moans vibrated in your throat, fingers in his hair and tugging so tight when he gets that good spot on your clit. the spot that makes you snap your legs closed and had you cross eyed.
he chuckles meanly, tongue flicking at your clit and he spitting the arousal mixed fluids back onto you.
until he hears a door open, him stopping and putting a hand over your mouth. he glares at you for a second, “hush.” he says.
“dad!?” megumi yells through the house, your heart stopping and nervous.
“yeah? what you doin home so early?” he yells back, his thumb giving small circles on your clit. he listens to megumi, then smiling evilly and chuckling. “well, just came home from gym so im showerin’!”
words exchanged, he goes back to laughing a bit. you couldnt find this funny, what if he catches you both and tells everyone?
“what are you freaking out about?” he looks and asks, dumbfounded face apparent.
“what about megumi, your ex wife finding out?” you whisper shout, nerves bad and jittery.
“well, they was gonna have to find out, somehow.” he shrugs, eyes lowering to you and. hell no, you couldnt risk that.
you start to gather your clothes, or at least attempt to. “mm–no you dont, come here.” he softly says, hands on your hips and face going back to your clit. “oh, im going to have so much fucking fun with you.”
you bite your lip, eyes squeezed shut when he goes back to slurping your clit and tugging at his hair. “toji, what if i get too loud?” you try to say, almost cut off by a moan.
“i dont fuckin’ care.” he says quick, pulling himself away from your clit. he looks to your panties, grabbing the pair and shoving them in your mouth. “you are the one who has to be quiet.”
you moan soft, toes feeling like to cramp because of the hard curls. “you have a choice to make.” he says in between sucks and slurps. “either you can stay here.. cunt open, legs spread wide–“ he says, but pulls you back in when you squirm, “aht aht, dont you go anywhere.” he says, kissing your clit and sucking while his tongue goes in and out of your walls.
“either you can stay here, cunt open.. legs spread wide.” he repeats, he kissing your clit and labia. “and cum on my fucking tongue..” he starts again, “or you can make me stop.” he goes for your nipple, fingers pinching at the bud, “ill pull my tongue out of your cunt..”
“and you can put your clothes back on and pretend like nothing happened.” he says mouthful of pussy, hand’s massaging your thighs.
he pulls away, looking up at you. “whaddaya’ want?” he asks, chin and nose glossy from spit and cum.
you try to pull his head back down, him being awfully stronger than you and he laughing. “thats my good girl.” he laughs again, leaning up to kiss you. a growl forms, “fuck!” he says in anticipation.
“dad? you good?” megumi shouts out, concern but uninterested as well.
“yeah, slammed my toe.” toji shouts back, mental focus back to your cunny and his eyes rolling back from the sensory overload. megumi doesnt show back, both of you hearing him leave the house and car cranking up.
“get on your belly.” he says, yanking the panties from your mouth and flipping you over. you chirp, ass getting goosebumps from the exposed air hitting it.
“gunna fill your belly with my hot fucking cum.”
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lowkeyremi · 11 months
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Late Nights aizawa x reader
it's my birthday so im writing about the man i share it with (-ε-)
content: post war au, fluff, established relationship
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"This isn't good for your health, Sho." Today marks the 5th night he's stayed up past 11 pm grading papers or doing something else for his job.
"How do you think I managed before I met you?" His small sigh meets your ears, and you really want to help him. Seeing out of only one eye is most definitely slowing him down.
"You looked dead on the outside when we first met. Do you want me to help grade papers?"
"I'll finish before one, go back to bed, honey." His eyes meet yours once he hears you scoff. He's draining himself by staying up this late, every single night. His face is lit by the warm kitchen light, one of his hands tugging at his long black strands of hair in order to keep himself sane.
"Shota. I'm not taking no for an answer." You say firmly, crossing your arms to indicate that you mean business.
"I knew you'd say that, come sit down." He gives in every single time. He knows he needs the help, he just doesn't want to admit it.
"Can you read through these essays?" At first you're confident, there's only a few papers on the table.
"Can you?" You nod diligently. You confirm you're willing to help, and your husband gets up from the table and slowly walks toward your shared bedroom. When he does return there's a large stack of papers in his arms. They drop on the table with a thump. He chuckles at your horrified expression.
"Just get through as many as you can. Write feedback on them too, hon." No wonder he's always so tired, you forget that 1-A isn't his only class. If you can remember right he has six periods of classes.
"Is this pile all your class or.." He's sat back down by now and started going through papers with red pen.
"That's 3rd and 4th period. I'm finishing up with 1st and 2nd right now." You click your tongue. It's hard to get started, you don't have any motivation unlike Shota. His only motivation is probably the fact he has to do this.
"Why don't you have an online classroom? It would make grading so much easier." He's probably going to say something about not knowing how to use it..
"I prefer for my students to write manually, because it helps with remembrance." Sounds like something an old man would say. You'd voice your opinion but he'd have a comeback for sure.
-----
"Shotaaaaa, I don't wanna do anymore." Your head is resting on the table, the cool wood on your cheek. He doesn't even spare you any sympathy either, laughing at you quietly. His rich chuckles sound like comfort more than mockery in your opinion though.
"Sweetheart, you've only graded four essays." The huge stack of papers looks back at you from it's side of the table.
"Yeah and each essay had like four to five papers in it. I feel bad for your students." The two of you are going to cuddle. You're determined to make it happen, so before he could even reply, you bounce up from your seat, grab his hand, and tug him towards your bedroom.
"We're going to sleep. I'm not taking any other answers besides "okay" or "yes my love." He clicks his tongue at your statement, but finds no reason to oblige.
-----
"Do you want to know something?" He whispers into your ear cuddling you close enough to feel the warmth of his chest on your back.
"What?" At this point you're only half-conscious, struggling to register what your husband's just said.
"I'm actually ahead of schedule. I can grade those papers loosely throughout this week." He admits with no guilt or shame in his voice at all. What a workaholic.
"Are you serious? So I could have been cuddling you all this time?"
"Yeah, I just do work to get out of my head." You wonder how many times you'll have to remind him that you're his strength and that you'll help him through anything, before he actually believes it.
"If you were having trouble sleeping, you should have told me." His big hand rests in your hair playing with it slowly.
"Didn't wanna bother you." His hand is so comforting that you almost fall asleep.
"You're never a bother to me Sho." Your voice is so soft and sincere that he almost breaks out into tears of joy. He's so happy to have met you.
"Oh." It has finally clicked in his brain, even though you've been married to him for quite some time.
You are his light.
1K notes · View notes
caesium-55 · 6 months
Text
—seven days. [ v ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: sorry it took a while compared to the other chapters. i finished up my lab reports in my surveying class. this is not edited nor is it beta read and i dont remember much on what happened during the 2018-2021 seasons so pardon me if there are inaccuracies. anyways, welcome to max's pov. u can say im stalling on the shitshow that will happen once max discovers that reader resigned. lemme know what you think.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1
masterlist.
2018
“Who’s that?”
Daniel looks up, cheeks stuffed with the sandwich he was eating for lunch, “Who?”
Max cringes internally. His mother always told him and Victoria to not talk when his mouth was full, she called it bad manners, and now, he is understanding where she was coming from with those lectures. Nevertheless, he doesn't reprimand Daniel. Instead, he gestures to the girl standing a few meters away from their table in the Red Bull hospitality staff cafeteria, who was happily chatting with two Red Bull senior engineers whom Max recognizes to be Elijah Stuart and Richard Fox.
It is the first time Max has seen her. A new employee perhaps? Perhaps not. She lacks the company standard uniform.
Daniel trails his line of sight to where Max has pointed, “Which one? Richard?”
“No,” Max groans. Daniel blinks.
“Elijah?”
This is quickly becoming annoying.
“The girl, Daniel,” Max says, his exasperation bleeding through his words. “She’s not wearing a Red Bull polo.”
Daniel’s brows rise to his hairline, head snapping back to Max, “[Name]?”
Then, a shit-eating grin erupts on his lips. “Are you interested in her?”
“She’s not my type,” Max’s denial comes quickly. Is it even considered denial if it’s the truth? In his twenty almost twenty-one years being alive, Max never really put a lot of time into thinking about what his ideal type would look like. But he is sure that the woman of his dreams will look very far from the woman who was successful in catching his attention because you are wearing a black shirt in a sea of Red Bull polo shirts.
You with your eyes that forms into tiny crescent moons once your face breaks into a grin, you with your smile that shows too much gums and too much teeth, you with your hands that moves too much when you talk, and you with that too loud and too obnoxious laugh that comes even with the lamest of jokes. You’re like Daniel in a way. All happy sunshine vibes.
Max is watching you close, observing how you were interacting with Richard and Elijah. They're old men and no one should look this happy while talking to boring, old, white men, who worked more than four decades in the engineering industry so they only know how to speak boomer language and everything engineering. Surprisingly, Elijah and Richard seem to be having fun talking to you. A miracle on its own because they never even look that happy talking to Daniel Ricciardo and everybody in Red Bull Racing adores sunshine honey badger, Daniel Ricciardo.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're thinking about it.”
“How would you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because you’re currently on a quest to erase my singledom. I can put two and two together.”
Daniel snorts, crossing his arms over his chest, “Maybe I just want to let you meet new friends.”
“I have enough friends.”
“You don't have friends that are not racers.”
Max presses his lips in a thin line.
“She’s my manager, by the way.” says Daniel, leaning back into his seat.
“What happened to Nick?”
“He’s on leave,” Daniel says. “His wife’s giving birth soon. She’s my temporary manager for a few months. Or I don't know, maybe the whole season.”
Max brows rise in pleasant surprise but says nothing.
“Now that I think about it, she’s around your age. How old are you again? Twenty-two?”
“Twenty,” Max corrects. His birthday is still months away from pre-season. On the end of September.
“Ah, she's older than you. Oh wait, here she comes. Hey, [Name]! Here!”
Max flinches and his heart begins ramming against his ribs erratically that he thinks he’ll undergo cardiac arrest in a matter of seconds. He does a double take—why am I even panicking?—then forces himself to calm down and straightens up in his seat. His shoulders and neck are still considerably stiff and his palms are slowly becoming sweaty. He swallows an invisible stone in his throat.
“¡Hola mi amiga, [Name]!” Daniel greets and his Spanish accent sounds off that it makes [Name], who stopped right in front of their table, giggle and when Max looks up at her through his lashes, it almost feels like the world is turning too rapidly on its axis and it’s making Max dizzy. Daniel and her do a friendly handshake—when did they reach this level of friendship?
“Hola, Daniel,” she greets, smiling. Your accent reminds Max of Carlos, but unlike Carlos, who possesses a very distinct Spanish accent, yours sounded subtler than his and it's mixed with the charming rhythm of words that reminds Max of sunsets in the south. You pronounce Daniel’s name like it has two syllables instead of three. Dan-yel instead of Dan-i-el. Suddenly, Max is curious as to how his name will sound if it originates from her mouth, how the syllables will roll off her tongue. Max will still sound like Max. Nobody will mispronounce that name. But Emilian and Verstappen? How will you say it?
“Hi Max.”
The Max sounds plain even though you’re smiling when you greet him. She didn't say Max the same way she said Daniel, whose name was uttered with a certain fondness.
“Hello,” Max’s chin dips slightly into a nod.
“Eat with us,” Daniel invites and he is already dragging a chair from a nearby table to their table before Max can fully register what he’s doing.
“You sure?” you ask, brows raising slightly at Daniel’s abrupt invitation.
Daniel waves his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, Max wouldn't mind. Would you, Max?”
Suddenly, two pairs of eyes are on him and his throat feels dry. He cannot speak. No words leave his mouth. Empty brain, zero thoughts. In the end, he nods and you join the two for lunch.
Max frequently sees you following Daniel in the paddock. You remind him of a dog. No, even dogs do not follow their owners this much. Or do they? Max wouldn't know. He is a cat person anyway.
Max’s main point is this: not even the other racers’ managers follow them around this much. Not even Max’s manager follows him this much. (No one tell Max that this was due to the fact that he scares his own manager. Imagine a middle-aged man scared of a Dutch racer half his age with anger issues.) But you follow Daniel around like he is the sun and you are planet Earth and you need to be constantly revolving around him to achieve universal balance. And for some reason, your actions cause something odd to stir up in Max. He is annoyed. Of what? Maybe because you are so good to Daniel? Maybe he wants someone to be like that for him, too? His manager is not as proactive as you. Yeah, maybe that’s it.
And if you are not with Daniel, which is a rare occurrence, you’re hovering around the Red Bull mechanics. You even go as far as bringing them coffee in the mornings and that annoys Max even more. Daniel, he can understand if you brought him coffee, but the others? No. You don't even bring Christian Horner coffee. Why only them?
Whatever.
You are such a suck up. Max hates suck ups.
Baku 2018 was a bad race, a total nightmare for everyone in the team. The moment Max got out of that car, he was burning. Figuratively, at least. The engine of the RB14 is the one burning, in a literal sense. Horner is red in the face when he sees Max and Daniel, and he yells at them to cool down before they do the formal stuff of apologizing and dealing with the FIA and all the formalities that Max rather thinks are bullshit.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice raising, when he sees you approaching. “Aren't you supposed to be with Daniel?”
“Water?” you offer the water bottle to him and Max knows full well it’s supposed to be for Daniel. Max saw you offering it to Daniel earlier when the two of them stepped into the Red Bull garage after retiring from the race but the older man has declined your offer before stomping off somewhere else to cool down.
“No.”
He is not going to take the scraps of someone else, even though he is thirsty as hell.
You nod, shrugging your shoulders and saying, “Okay.”
You crouch on the floor and put the water bottle in front of him with a neatly folded face towel balancing on top of it. Then, you rise and walk away, leaving Max to glare at your back as you fade away from his view. Once you disappeared from his line of sight, he drags his gaze back to the water bottle and towel.
He drinks the water and then uses the towel to wipe his sweat. At that moment, Max decides that he will never allow himself to be beaten by Daniel ever again.
Max remembers the anger he feels when he discovers the news of Daniel leaving Red Bull.
“Was this because of Baku?!”
Daniel tries to explain his situation as calmly as he can but Max is all fire and flames and fury. He is only hearing Daniel’s words, not listening to them because all that he registers are the words “leaving” and “Renault” and “goodbye” and the rest are all just a bunch of ringing noise. Max knows where Daniel is coming from because he isn't dumb nor naive and he is aware that he is quickly becoming the team favorite, but did Daniel really need to leave?
Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving, Daniel’s leaving. He’ll have no friends left on the team.
Max’s fear of being left behind is often masqueraded as anger. The thing about Max is that his pain always turns to anger and his anger turns into violence.
He barely registers what he has done to Daniel until he sees his teammate—former teammate—on the floor, eyes wide and clutching his cheek. Max’s fist trembles. They are both horrified at what Max has done.
“Daniel, I—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Daniel scrambles to a stand and lunges at Max. Max fears he’s going to get punched, too, and maybe he deserves it because he is the one who has thrown his fist first, but [Name] appears, quick as lightning, and rushes in between Daniel and Max.
“Daniel, calm down.”
Max is surprised you can hold Daniel down on your own. Daniel was a racer, had been since 2011, so he possessed the physical strength of a veteran racer and you, well, you're not. You’re shorter than them both, too.
Daniel is turning red in the face and fury paints his features. Max wants to fight, answer Daniel’s anger with his own. Fire to fire. Let them both burn until they achieve ruination.
“Nick!” you cry and at the call of his name, Nick appears quickly. “Hold Daniel!”
Your hands clutch Max’s nape and forearm and you quickly drag him away from the furious Daniel, leaving Nick to hold Daniel off and calm him down.
His ears are still ringing. Even after he's dragged away from the chaos. Even after he's brought into an empty room. Even after he sits down on a plush chair, face scarily blank while his mind runs for miles.
The ringing sound disappears when you tap his shoulder and asks, “You okay, big boy?”
His brain becomes a blank slate.
Max nods hesitantly, “Yeah.”
His knuckles are still tingling. He can still feel the remnants of the violence of his fist, can still feel the sting when his knuckles met Daniel’s cheek.
“Injuries?”
Why do you only speak words instead of full sentences?
You scan Max’s face for injuries and Max holds his breath when you lean your face closer to see clearly.
“No—No injuries.”
Your shoulders sag in relief, “Good. Thank fuck. Horner wouldn't be happy if golden boy got clocked.”
You pull yourself away and Max feels like he can breathe again. Then, you pivot on your heels.
“I’ll get you water.”
“No!”
You flinch and then turn to him slowly, your eyes growing wide and mouth falling slightly open. Max mirrors your surprise. You blink at him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, your forehead creases and you close your mouth.
“No need to yell at me,” you mumble but Max hears it loud and clear and now, his anger is spiking up again.
“Fine, go!”
You raise a brow at him, giving him a long look. A sigh escapes your lips. You leaned against the door, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Why aren't you leaving?”
“You don't want me to,” you say in a know-it-all tone.
“I told you to go!”
“What you want and what you say are two different things. Don't worry, I’ll stay for as long as you need.”
Max doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he sits there in the silence with his thoughts and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s sure you noticed that he’s trying not to cry, not with you standing in front of him. Max always makes weird faces when he forces himself not to cry.
But then you turn your back on him, not to leave, but to give him the privacy he needs.
His tears fall silently.
The 2018 WDC was Lewis Hamilton, who garnered 408 points by the end of the year. Max finishes in fourth, only after the Ferrari drivers, Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Raikkonen. The world thinks it is not a bad result. Max is still young and he’s battling three WDCs for points. But Max thinks otherwise. Winning is number one. The rest is just losing. The only thing he knows is he's not good enough. Jos is thinking of the same thing, too. He knows it.
Everytime someone congratulates him, Max has to bite his tongue and fake a smile. He can only feel anger, for finishing up fourth. It's like people are constantly reminding him of what he failed to become—a champion.
Red Bull throws an after party at the hotel bar, like they do at every Grand Prix, but Max chose not to go so he can drown in his own bitterness in the privacy of his hotel room.
A series of knocks on the door disturbs his ongoing rampage. He is sure it is his manager who’s behind the door. Archie possesses a horrible habit of appearing when he is not needed and not appearing when he is.
“What?!”
“Open the door, sour loser.”
That's not Archie.
Max’s jaw tenses. He marches towards the door and aggressively throws it open. It is you who stands behind it, an unimpressed expression printed on your face. Why is Daniel’s manager here?
“Who are you calling a loser?”
You sigh, peering your head in to look at his hotel room. You wince.
“Horner is not gonna be happy with how you trashed everything,” you begin. Max may or may not have thrown things across the room, punched a table and the wall, and accidentally broke a hotel-owned wall decoration. “Did you punch the wall?”
He did. But he’s not going to tell you that. Max hopes you don’t notice the peeling skin on his knuckles—red and angry and bloody.
“Can you leave?” he asks through gritted teeth. He hears you sigh. You do that a lot when you’re around him. Why?
You rummage through your tote bag—cream-colored with peach prints, the same one you wear all year round—and pull out a cold can of beer and a face towel.
“Lemme see.”
You reach for Max’s hand, which causes him to jerk back, his hand going behind him. You pause.
“I told you to leave.”
“Okay,” you shrug. You grab his wrist before he could dodge and you thrust the cold canned beer and face towel into his hand.
“Put this on your knuckles,” your tone leaves no room for further arguments. “Danny’s worried ‘bout you.”
“If he’s so worried about me, he shouldn't be leaving me,” Max snaps.
“Have you tried listening to his reasons?”
“Of course, I did!” Max is offended that you even feel the need to ask him that.
You purse your lips, “Maybe you did listen, just never tried to understand. I’d do the same thing, too, if I was Danny. No need to stay in a place where we’re no longer wanted.”
Max opens his mouth to bark back. How dare you utter such nonsense? You only stayed here for a year! ? You will never understand the relationship between Daniel and Max. You will never know Daniel the same way Max knows him.
“He isn't going to win anywhere else. We are going to get a new engine and the car will be better than this year. We’ll be better than Ferrari or Mercedes. We’ll be champions.”
I’ll be a champion, but Max leaves it unsaid.
“I know, heard it from the mechanics,” you shrug. “Maybe Danny won't win in another machinery. Maybe he will. Who knows? But if the team wanted Danny then that’s better. A team that wants and prioritizes Danny will treat him better than any team could. And right now, that's what he needs, a good team that supports him well.”
“Red Bull prioritizes him, too.”
“You're lyin’ to yourself, you know it. You of all people should know how shitty it feels to be number two and Danny is number two right now.”
Silence.
Number two. Cursed number two.
“Are you gonna follow Daniel, too?”
Max will not be surprised if you do.
You shrug.
“Let's wait and see.”
Then, you turn around and walk away, the soft click of your beige flats echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer and a face towel in his hand.
He uses the face towel to wipe the blood on his knuckle and uses the cold canned beer to help soothe the pain of forming bruises. Max wishes you brought something to ease the pain in his heart, too.
2019
The 2019 pre-season begins with Christian Horner saying that Archie, Max’s incompetent manager last year, has submitted a resignation letter. That makes Max Verstappen officially manager-less this year.
“For this season, since Daniel is no longer with us—” The corner of Max’s lips curve downwards. “[Name] does not have anyone to manage anymore. I was thinking of moving her to the engineering team but she was too efficient at managing Daniel last year. Would you mind if she becomes your manager? I assume you're both friends?”
Friends is not the appropriate term to describe what they are. Sure, they talked because Daniel talked with Max frequently and wherever Daniel was, [Name] is closely behind. Daniel also has this habit of dragging everyone into the conversation so no one will be left out. They also engaged in banter a few times, when Daniel’s not around and Max and her do not bother tolerating each other for the sake of the Australian racer.
For the most part, when Daniel is present, [Name] become the nicest person to ever grace the room, even Mother Teresa is put to shame, but when Daniel’s gone, [Name]’s saintess act disappears and enters an asshole who'll argue with Max and annoy him to oblivion. She absolutely vexes him.
Also, she's a terrible suck up. Max hates suck ups.
“She’ll be good for you,” Horner adds.
“Do you believe so?”
“I know she can handle you.”
Max raises a single questioning brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”
Nevertheless, Max has no choice. Horner believes she’ll be good for him and Max prefers having her as a manager than having none at all. God forbid he’ll be stuck manager-less. He can barely organize anything to save his life.
Even though they're not perfectly civil with each other, Max cannot deny the fact that [Name] is a good manager. It is like she possesses the uncanny ability of knowing everything Max needs without having him to voice it out and you do it without Max having to ask you. Which works greatly for Max. He really isn't the best at asking what he needs and people cannot mindread so he just sucks everything up until a simple thing gets blown out of proportion and he ends up blaming someone else for a problem that should have been solved had he voiced it out in the first place.
“PR sent me this,” you walk into the room early in the morning and Max groans because he’s still dealing with the hangover from last night so he cannot deal with your annoyingness right now. Despite hearing his dilemma, you put the iPad on the table and Max sees a picture of him drunk as fuck in a bar somewhere in Barcelona. He winces, looking away and not bothering to read the caption.
“They want you to clear shit up.”
“What's there to be cleared about?”
“People think we're datin’, darlin’. That's what you need to clear up.”
Max’s eyes go comically wide. Him and [Name]....dating? A blush graces Max’s cheeks.
You swipe down and show Max a video. The clip shows you walking out of the bar, warding off people with a passed out Max on your shoulder.
There are two things that immediately entered Max’s head at that moment:
Wow. You're really strong.
What the fuck? When did this happen?
“I’ll get you an Advil and soup. In the meantime,” you open a word document on your iPad. “You read this. Prepared a script ‘cuz you can’t improvise shit. We’ll film a press release vid when I come back, aight?”
You are gone before Max can even nod his head.
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ifyoucandaniel · 2 months
Note
I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺
okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!
Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.
A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much
Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.
Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long
The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend
Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.
Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting
butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs
this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much
ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!
To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.
Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me
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mayhemories · 2 years
Note
Hi could you possibly write Neteyam x reader?
- Reader is best friends with Kiri and has feelings for Neteyam
- Reader sees herself as ugly, undesirable and believes Neteyam sees her as a little sister
- Yet Neteyam loves her and respects her
- Sexual tension between Neteyam and reader. linger hands and sneaking glances
- Kiri notices and secretly sets them up one night
Tumblr media
Best Friend's Brother
Oh Jesus Christ I loved writing every moment of this, but I kinda strayed away from your last point in the request, I'm sorry! I still hope it satisfies <3
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: Just fluff, some lowkey spice. No minors, get outta here! Reader is insecure and self-conscious, Neteyam puts a stop to that rather quickly. 
Words: 3.7k
Author’s Notes: 
Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 but only a few months older than Kiri. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 17, moving on to 18. Lil Tuk girl queen is the same age as the movie because I will protect her childhood. How old even is she? 8? Maybe im a fake fan. 
Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!
Read below the cut:
High Camp provided so much warmth, love and safety for its people. You were not old enough to remember Hometree or the destruction of it. But you could not imagine living anywhere else but in the densely protected cave systems of the Hallelujah Mountains. 
Everyone knows everyone, all the kids play together, live together, laugh together. The community that Olo'eyktan Jake Sully, and his mate, Neytiri had fostered here was against all odds. 
Your mother was one of the most talented hunters in the clan, this love of hunting easily transferred to warmongering, alongside the leadership (or maybe the leashing of your mother’s bloodlust) from Neytiri and Toruk Macto. Neytiri and your mother grew up together, so closely. Neytiri never forgets her friends and knows every name and face of the clan. You couldn’t help but admire her for this. Your father, on the other hand, was an irreplaceable healer and herbalist. He worked alongside T’sahik Mo’at, training younger Na’vi who showed promise in interpreting the ways of Eywa’s medicinal signs. With your family’s connection to the Sully’s, it was impossible to avoid them, even if you wanted to. 
You grew up with the Sully kids, being a year younger than Neteyam, their eldest, and only a few months older than Kiri and Lo’ak, the four of you would always be playing. Running through the majestic forests of Pandora, swimming through creeks, lakes and rivers, kissing the dirt as you rolled down hills into meadows of wildflowers. The older you got the closer you got to Kiri. The sister you’ll never have. 
You loved your parents, you did, but they made it clear that one child was enough for them. Your father loved the Sully’s as you did, he thought with his entire heart that Jake was the best for the clan. He was Toruk Macto, after all. Your mother, however, made things harder. She loved Neytiri like a sister, and always wished for her happiness. 
“I remember when Jake was like a baby, you know.” She would say at mealtimes, your father would have a small smile. You could do nothing but roll her eyes. “He was trouble maker, still is.” She was grumpy. You knew that she trusted Jake and saw him as a good Olo’eyktan, but the disdain grew from your friendship with his kids. 
“His boys are the same, no different.” She would always say the same thing, with the same pointed look. 
You and Kiri had just finished your rituals of womanhood the week prior. For the both of you finding a mate was expected. For Kiri, nothing was ever expected in terms of mateship. In fact it was almost the opposite.
“You never have to do something you don’t wanna do, Babygirl” Jake said, smoothing down Kiri’s wild hair. The two of you sat in the middle of the floor in the Sully’s tented home. Braiding beads into your songchords to commemorate the recent transition from child to adult. 
“What about you, (y/n)?” Neytiri asked, watching the two young girls weave their cords, reminiscing on her own bead.  
You sighed, knowing your parents had been pushing the topic for a while:
“What about Tsu-wey? Or, Marek or Teyk’ah?” Your mother said, rattling off the names of warrior boys, flinging her arms around, exasperated. You shook your head, you weren’t really interested in anyone. 
Your father, always taking the approachable, personal angle, sat next to you, tucking your shoulders under his arm. 
“What about Aäna? She’s a lovely girl-” 
“Dad!” You shot up, crossing your arms over your chest, the blood rushing to your cheeks. “It’s not that Dad, I just don’t like anyone like that yet really.” 
“You’ve got to work it out, (y/n),” Your mother said harshly, “Soon.” 
“Uh no, no I haven’t really got anyone in mind.” You replied quietly. 
“Ugh come on, lets scram.” Kiri said grabbing your wrist and practically marching you out of her family home. 
“Ughh Kiri, I only just finished my chord-oof” Your complaints were quickly cut off as Kiri stobbed abruptly, your whole body coming in contact with her back. “You skxwang! What are you doing-” 
“Brother.” Kiri chirps, cutting you off. Neteyam stood in the doorway, leaning against the timber frame, smirking. His braids fell around his face, his high cheekbones and delicate features seemed to play with the soft golden lighting of High Camp, his tail flicked subtly from side to side, amused. 
“Sister, (y/n),” Neteyam replied, sounding almost bored. “Where are you two running off to?” his fingers fiddled with his waistband, running down to his songchord. You knew you were staring, tracking the motion of his large hands, rubbing each bead, shell, and stone in between his thumb and pointer finger. It was embarrassing, you couldn’t look away, and why should you? There was nothing inappropriate about the action. Just his large, capable hands and skilled fingers…
Oh Eywa, that is enough. 
“None of your business, big brother,” Kiri said, teasing as she often did. You swore she only knew how to convey her thoughts through sarcasm and hints. 
Neteyam chuckled, his fingers resting on his crossed arms once, more. Your plain eyes found his warm, deep ones, as he said:
“I think it’s my business where my girls run off to, no?” You knew he did not mean it the way your stupid little brain heard it, you know he meant it as a brother. Nothing more, nothing less. But god, you wished you were his girl. You always had, since you were twelve. All of a sudden, you woke up one day and Neteyam was cute. Cute turned into cool, cool gave way into hot, and hot turned into so incredibly sexy as you got older. And you stayed, well awkward and plain and not much to behold. 
But, you could pretend, that was something you were good at. Rolling your eyes, you broke the contact with Neteyam, shoving Kiri with your shoulder and righting the way of the world, again. 
“The meadow.” You said flatly. 
Kiri wasn’t as much of an airhead as you seemed to think she was. She knew her best friend, and she knew her big brother. Neteyam was a loser, a goody-goody with a desperate need to be the perfect son, the perfect soldier. Around you, he became this swaggering popular guy that Kiri knew him not to be, really. Maybe around his stupid Ikran Rider friends. But never around Kiri, or Lo’ak or Tuk. He never bought that facade into their home, save for when you were in it. 
You, on the other hand, Kiri knew you like the back of her hand. You were shy, sweet and just so obviously and painfully in love with Neteyam. She watched you watch him, and him in turn trying to memorise every freckle, scar and nick on your body. 
Neteyam cleared his throat, embarrassed that Kiri had caught him, once again, stealing glances at her best friend. 
“Just be home for dinner, before eclipse, yeah?” He questioned, the muscle upon his brow bone tilting slightly upward. 
“Of course!” Kiri yelled out as the two of you ran off, hand-in-hand, giggling as you did so. Neteyam watched your retreating figures flee High Camp. Pulling his attention towards his own songchord, his most recent bead was longer than the others, a hollowed-out green gemstone, mottled with white and silver patterning. The one he chose for himself the year prior at his own ceremony, welcoming him into manhood. Neteyam smiled to himself, remembering the bead you had obviously chosen for your own ceremony, made from the same little green stone. 
Neteyam didn’t know how much longer he could go on going like this. He felt like he was walking in circles, orbiting you, waiting for his gamut to eventually crash him into you. Sighing he opened the flap to his tented family home. Maybe it was time to ask Toruk Macto for advice. 
The long grass of the meadow was a deep shade of green, almost the colour of seagrass. Its long strands waved in the breeze, tickling your face as you lay on your back, watching the clouds, birds and everything that called the clearing it’s home. You felt connected to the place, like you were in the lungs of the world, simply floating in the breath of Eywa. 
Kiri sat at your feet in the long grass, facing you, but with her knees drawn close to her chest, playing with the end of her face-framing braids. She was thinking hard, hyperfocused on a thought that was so deep-rooted it took you multiple attempts to get her attention. 
“What’s wrong my Kiri?” You asked, finally catching her eye-line, sitting up to mirror her position. 
“Nothing is wrong, why would anything be wrong?” Kiri responded, trying to act nonchalant. 
“Do not bullshit me, you penis face.” You say, pulling a smile out of her distracted figure while nudging her leg with your foot. 
“You would be my sister if you mated Neteyam, you know that right?” She asked, like she didn’t say the craziest fucking sentence you’ve ever heard in the world. 
All the air left your lungs at once, she may as well have punched you in the stomach. You were going to retch. 
“What are you talking about!” You felt the blood rush to your face, fanning itself over your nose, cheeks, ears and shoulders. Your whole chest felt like Kiri had taken a flare to it. You couldn’t bear it, you felt hot all over. You covered your face with your shaking hands. 
Oh, mother Eywa I will die here, I will die here of embarrassment and pass through to you.
“Don’t be stupid, I know you loooooove him,” She said stretching out her o’s as she so often did when teasing, she poked you a few times too, for good measure. “He obviously is pining for you too, you skxwang.” 
Kiri was a tease, she was sarcastic and blunt and hilarious. But she was not mean. Which, is why you couldn’t work out why she was being mean to you now. About something so personal, too. You felt the hot tears start to form. 
“Why are you being mean?” You asked softly, pulling your hands away from your eyes, to try and read her face. 
Kiri was taken aback by how upset you were. She did not mean it to be mean, she was serious. She quickly took you in her arms, all jokes aside. 
“Ma (y/n) why are you crying?” Kiri asked softly. You sniffled, letting the tears fall freely now. 
“You know I love Neteyam, why would you tease me like that knowing it is like stones in my heart.” You began to ramble, as you so often did when you were emotional. “Neteyam sees me as his little sister, nothing more, nothing less.” You said seriously, vehemently. Lip quivering, you felt stupid and pathetic crying about it. But now that ball of thoughts had started to be unwound in your mind you could not stop, all the words you could not say since you were twelve just fell out of your little mouth. “And besides, if Neteyam didn’t see me as just a little annoying sister, I am ugly Kiri.” Kiri started to shush you, but you did not listen.
 “I am not unique in features like you, I am not as elegant as your mother, I’m not as alluring as Aäna, or as talented as Lor’ät. I’m so fucking boring.” Your tears fell so freely down your face and neck, you felt them fall behind the straps of your breast cover. You hated it. You hated everything about you and you would never be enough for Neteyam. 
You would never be enough for anyone, really. When you thought critically about it. 
Kiri held you close as you sobbed like her mother would, smoothing down your hair like her father would. She was beyond confused about how you could ever think this about yourself. Knowing fair well what a lot of the hunter boys Lo’ak was friends with say about you, what Neteyam’s Riders say in confidence, what the healer girls under Mo’at whisper about during Kiri’s training. Usually it makes her want to gag. But in this moment she wished she told you earlier. Maybe it would’ve given you more self-confidence in a perverse roundabout way. You were so wanted. If it wasn’t for Neteyam’s possessive nature of you, you could have anyone you wanted. Kiri reasoned, that if Neteyam wasn’t going to let anyone else have you, but not move on you himself, Kiri would have to set it up.
You and Kiri came back to High Camp, just before dinner and just after you finally stopped crying. You asked Kiri to never talk about the whole thing, preferring to just shove the whole thing into a little lockbox, throwing it away into the undercurrent of your consciousness. 
You stopped dead in your tracks infront of Kiri’s home, hearing Jake’s laugh and Tuk’s squeals. Neteyam was in there. No, you couldnt it was way to fresh. To have dinner with them would be the last petal in your funerary basket. 
“Come, lets eat.” Kiri whined, pulling on your arm. You stood firm like an island of stone against the tide. 
“I think I will eat with my parents tonight, I’m sorry.” You said in a low voice. “I’ll be back to normal tomorrow I promise.” You quickly added, to appease your headstrong sister. 
“Okay.” Kiri said softly, taking both of your hands into her five-fingered ones. “It’s all going to sort itself out, (y/n). I promise.” 
The usually short walk across High Camp to your family home felt unusually long, cold and dark.
Kiri flopped down on the woven mats around the firepit with a huff. Next to Jake and Neteyam, Kiri was hungry and angry and sad for her friend. 
“Hey , Babygirl.” Jake said, kissing Kiri on her forehead. Jake looked toward the door, confused. “Where’s my other beautiful girl?” Jake asked, confused. (y/n) always joined them for dinner, he couldn’t remember a night her presence had been missed since she was born. 
Kiri sighed, big and deep. “She’s having dinner with her parents.” 
“What has happened?” Neytiri asked, serving dinner on a leaf for little Tuk. 
Kiri felt internally conflicted. It was not her business to share, not her secrets to lay bare. But her best friend was hurting, and the skxwang next to her was the only one who could fix it. But (y/n) never begs for anything, and she begged Kiri the whole walk home to say nothing. 
She could not say nothing, but she did not have to say anything, either. 
“(y/n) was sad, about finding a mate. Her parents are really hard on her about it.” Kiri was not one to lie, and this was not a lie she convinced herself. But not the whole truth either. 
“Bro, that’s so stupid. Literally everyone is asking her mom for courting meetings.” Lo’ak piped up. His sentence muffled due to his full fucking face of food. Kiri screwed her face up.
“Courting meetings? What do you mean?” Neteyam looked panicked. The face he usually reserved for Lo’ak’s antics on the field. 
“I don’t know man, some of the guys were talking about it today during lessons. But her Dad keeps turning them away for now.” Lo’ak answered, shrugging nonchalantly, stuffing his face still, despite the family’s disgust. 
Kiri stared at Neteyam, reading every inch of his face as he calmed down. He was running out of time, she knew it. But, Neteyam looked at Jake. Jake raised his eyebrows at his eldest son, turning his head slightly and shrugging. It was a shared look, Neteyam knew exactly what Jake meant, though Kiri felt left in the lurch. 
The Sully’s did not talk about it for the rest of dinner, thankfully. 
Neytiri was putting Tuk to bed. Jake, in a rare moment was teaching Lo’ak how to properly clean a gun. Kiri sat, next to Neteyam, running her hands up and down her own songchord, anxiously. Neteyam was evidently anxious too, his legs pulled up close to his chest, he stared at the fire pit as if the answers were going to lash out and brand him. 
“She is in love with you, Neteyam.” Kiri said softly. Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out and bleed from his nose. 
“I don’t think so baby sister,” Neteyam ruffled her hair, trying to present himself in a lighthearted way, despite his creeping blush. Kiri smacked his hand away. 
“Listen to me, you idiot.” Kiri’s serious voice felt like a hot knife running through Neteyam’s soul. She never sounded this way, this upset. “She loves you. And, and she thinks that you only think of her as a little sister.” Neteyam chuckled at that, he never treated her the way he treated Kiri and Tuk. Surely, that was obvious, no? “I know. I laughed too.” Kiri said with a small smile. She took Neteyam’s hands into her own, like she did with you only a few hours prior.
“Neteyam, she thinks that she’s ugly, that she will never be enough for you. She thinks she’s not talented.” Kiri’s round eyes filled with empathetic tears for her best friend, thinking back on your small frame sobbing in the long grass. 
Neteyam’s blush soon turned to anger. His heart finding the possessive pit that he reserves only for his feelings for you.  “I do not understand, does she not know that everyone wants her?” Neteyam hissed in a low voice, Eywa forbid, Neytiri heard him talk about how the other boys of the clan view (y/n). Neteyam hated how they spoke of her body, her face, her mind. Her beautiful voice and nimble hands. Only he was allowed to think of you like that. And the Great Mother only knows how they think of you at night, how they think of you when they- 
Neteyam stopped himself before he went any further. He knew how he thought about you at night when he has a hand between his thighs. 
“She does not know.” Kiri said, bringing Neteyam back to the forefront of his mind. “I have never told her.” 
Neteyam’s heart swelled in a terrible way. You were so sweet, so innocent, you did not know that boys rutted into their own hands at the thought of the way your waist dips, or the mound of your breast. He needed to protect you, and Jesus, he thought he had by laying an unofficial possessive claim. But, it seems that the future Olo’eyktan has been ignored. 
A growl fell out of Neteyam’s mouth. To Kiri it looked like a dark light fell over her brother’s features. A man possessed. He stood, cracking his neck and shoulders, like he always did, but this time Kiri flinched. She had never seen Neteyam so…scary. 
“I will fix this tomorrow, sister.” Was all Neteyam said, as he retreated to the sleeping quarters of their home. 
(y/n) did not sleep a wink. All she could see in her mind’s eye was Neteyam. Neteyam laughing with other girls, Neteyam riding with other girls. How they wave to him when he walks past.
Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam. 
You felt so guilty, so, so guilty. As the night went on your thoughts went south, went dirty and wrong. You dreamt about kissing Neteyam; How soft his lips would feel against your own. His rough, calloused hands would hold your face in place and he would kiss you like he loved you, kissed you like he meant it. 
Simply, you did not deserve to hold romantic thoughts about Neteyam in your heart like that. He was not yours. He would never be. 
You quick hands made light work of the repair you were currently undertaking. You enjoyed your work as clan seamstress. Fixing, making loin cloths, beading breast covers and threading jewellery. You enjoyed the freedom to create things, but to also be useful to your clan. You could never offer them safety, food, medicine or freedom. But you could make sure they were warm in the cool rains, and protected from the glistening sun in the heat of the day. 
You folded the repaired loincloth, placing it to the side. Ready for its owner to pick it up when they had a moment to spare. 
The flap to the tent flew open, causing you to jump out of your skin. The last person you wanted to see stood in the entry way, ripped loincloth in hand. 
“Good morning, Neteyam.” You said softly, casting your gaze downwards. He quickly sat across from you, legs crossed like a child. 
“Well, it’s good now.” He smiled brightly. You felt all the blood run to your cheeks. “Do you uh, do you mind fixing this for me?” He said, stumbling over his own words, handing over the dark green textile. 
“Of course, easy fix.” Your fingers brushed his and you felt like your hands had been set on fire. Shaking, you began stitching the fabric back together. You knitted your brows together as you worked, not wanting to see his face any longer, the more you stared at your hands, the worse they shook. This tear made no sense, it was cleanly cut with a knife. Neteyam had purposely ripped his own loincloth. “How did this even happen?” You asked. 
“I needed an excuse to come and see you, my (y/n).” Neteyam spoke softly, reaching out to take one of your hands, distracting them from their job. His eyes caught yours, and you knew you were done. So warm, so full of life and love. 
“Neteyam-” You started, but he cut you off. Something of which Neteyam had never done before. 
“I know you do not see yourself how I see you.” He started, his stare holding you to the spot, you sent a brief prayer to Eywa, that this was not some cruel trick. “You are the most beautiful creature that has ever walked these lands. You care so deeply for the people, the forest.” His hand ran the length of your arm, goosebumps rising in his wake. “I see you. I love you. I want you.” Neteyam said vehemently. 
You felt everything, everywhere, all at once. Everything you have ever wanted to hear had fallen out of his mouth like it was always meant to be. It sounded so right. It sounded natural and real. It was so out of character for Neteyam, to be so open, so raw and honest with his feelings. 
So, under the guise of love, you acted out of character too. Like for like. 
Taking his beautiful, soft face between your small, shaking hands, you kissed him. Pulling away for breath, you remembered what needed to be said.
“I have always seen you, Neteyam.” 
5K notes · View notes
pasdasin · 2 months
Text
Wicked Game
wolverine x vampire!reader
an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol
ch 3
warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol
previous -- next
~~~~~
The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.
talk in front of teenagers. 
Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.
“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”
“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her. 
“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans. 
The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room. 
Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.
You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.
You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.
“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”
“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”
“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”
You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you. 
“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.
“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!
Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.
“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.
“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.” 
The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist. 
“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.
“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”
“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.
“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.
“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away. 
“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion. 
“Lets go to my room okay?”
___
“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you. 
“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”
“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.
“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen. 
“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.
The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.
The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock. 
“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.
“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.
Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood. 
You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done. 
“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.
His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn’t controlled, and he loved it. 
Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you. 
Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe. 
~~~~~
tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble
an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3
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enden-agolor · 4 months
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i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?
Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.
It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.
In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.
The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.
By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.
Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.
It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.
So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍
Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️
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tojisun · 9 months
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i would give anything for some simon fluff rn bc i feel like my bf is gonna break up with me soon and to have simon be a point of comfort would be everything to me rn. ily sun!
-🔪💕
oh my love, im so sorry to hear that. i hope and wish and pray that he wouldnt; that things could be talked through and issues could be smoothed over. i wish so much love to be on your way right now. i love you so so much and take care.
i rushed this in hopes of u seeing it faster and even then, it still took so long for me to post it; i hope, at least, that it turned out alright and that u can find comfort in this even if just a bit :’(
@/plutism for divider
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simon breathes in deeply, quietly, his body slowly leaning to the door frame as he gazes at you.
you still don’t know that he’s back, busy humming to yourself as you finish preparing your breakfast. he has to talk to you about spatial awareness, acutely worried about the fact that you haven’t heard the door open or clocked in the extra shoes stowed in the shoe rack or, the most obvious one, noticed his presence.
yeah, those are worrying alright. but, right now, simon takes it – you – all in slowly. softly. deeply.
he takes in the way you’re dressed in nothing but his clothes – an old military shirt that he didn’t even know you kept, his pyjama pants with the excess fabric folded to hell so that you wouldn’t trip.
his dog tags, their quiet chime ringing in his ears melodiously.
simon ignores the prickles in the back of his eyes or the sudden lump lodged in his throat, busy cataloguing the changes you’ve done in your guys’ home – the potted plants by the kitchen window sill, the new wall clock that’s shaped like a cat instead of the old circular one he remembers getting from the dollar store.
the calendar on the fridge, days marked with x-es as you count down the days until simon’s presumed return from his mission. simon gave you a fake date so that he can still surprise you without fully disrupting your routine. johnny almost gave it away with his ramblings, but it worked out perfect in the end.
because in the end, here he is, basking in your presence, forging reality from what had just been a loving nostalgia of returning to you. because in the end, he is back home
simon carefully knocks on the door, smiling apologetically when you whipped around to look at him with a belted scream. your palm lurches to steady your beating heart, the other grasping the countertops, and simon’s laughter trickles into the air.
“si?” you gasp out, voice so quiet like you are afraid that he isn’t real.
“yeah,” simon replies just as softly; just as fearful of having this beautiful dream of coming back home to you be ripped away from his reach.
you’re running to him in his next breath and simon doesn’t even think, doesn’t even hesitate, before he’s meeting you halfway.
warm bodies collide, pairs of arms snaking around each other, pulling and tugging. he maps his palms on your back, feeling you better, familiarizing your body against his again. your hands fist at his jumper, nose nuzzling along his neck to breathe him in.
he hears you say his name, a trembly little thing. simon whispers your own, hoping you hear the way your name drips from his tongue like honey, packed with reverence and love.
your breath hitches, a choked sob replacing your gasp. “again,” you say, the words pressed on his skin. “say my name again.”
he does, murmuring your name again and again. not stopping even when he scoops you up in his arms to gently prop you up on the countertop.
you are full on sobbing now. “simon,” you reply. “simon. my simon.”
your simon.
that’s right – he is yours. all yours. just yours.
“yeah,” he replies with a hiccup, then a wet chuckle. “yours. and you? you are mine, yeah?”
you pull away just a bit, just enough that your eyes are meeting his. simon’s lips wobble at finally having a proper view of you.
“yes,” you rasp out. “‘m all yours.”
the first kiss is desperate even when it is slow; it is all languid and deep. his palms cup the back of your head and your hands trail hesitant touches before cupping his jaw; not once letting go. not once letting your hands stray away from him.
there are so many things simon wants to say: i missed you. i love you. you look good in my clothes. i love you. you are so beautiful. i love you. but they all fade away as he deepens the kiss because in this moment, nothing else matters but you in his embrace. but him back in your arms.
but this love that sustains him.
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i hope, even if just a little, this helped. i love u nonnie <33
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fatuismooches · 2 years
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Hello!!! May i request how the habingers men act when they are drunk? How will the reader will take care of them? If you are not taking requests im very sorry you can decline my request
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Imagine the Harbingers when they’re drunk. 
Pierro is even more somber when drunk. It’s not like he does it on purpose, it just sort of happens. He does like to drink some wine to relax after many long days of work, but the idleness somehow always causes his mind to wander back to the old days, to before the Fatui. And he thinks. He ponders a lot and reminiscences about the past, how things could have been different. He has always been left alone with these wandering thoughts until you came along.
Don’t let the melancholic tone steer you away though. When Pierro drinks, he’s usually alone, but that’s not to say he doesn’t want you here. He’s been alone for as long as he could remember, even lonelier after the fall of his homeland. It was just natural for him to be this way. Having you there makes him unsure of what to do because he doesn’t want to make you sad, but please reassure him. Lay your head on his chest and put your hand on top of one. Tell him it’s okay, and it will always be okay, that you want to be here for the good and the bad, through everything. He’s silent, but Pierro appreciates your kindness so much more than he lets on. You don’t need to do much after that because your mere presence and warmth are more than enough for him as he strokes your hair until you fall asleep in his arms.
Dottore has a varying amount of emotions when he’s drunk. It really depends on which segment you’re talking to. The younger segments tend to get more argumentative with each other. The older ones are more mature and handle it better. With the younger segments, they’re a lot to handle, even more so when drunk. You’ve witnessed them throw stuff at each other, hurl some nasty words (about other people as well), and generally be gloomy at the end too. They can be immature and hotheaded compared to the older, calmer segments, but it’s honestly quite funny to witness. They just say the darndest things with the most humorous phrasing, sometimes gossiping about that one Harbinger who always cuts their funding. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much to placate them. The moment one of them starts to get pouty, you simply usher them into your embrace, successfully shutting him up. This has a domino effect, and soon you have a bunch of clones on your shoulders, hogging your lap, even against your legs. 
Though, don’t expect the same outcome with the older clones, especially Omega and the original Zandik. Zandik has had his body modified to the point where such drinks do not have much of an effect anymore, and Omega is just… well, yeah, it takes far more than that to bother him. Zandik does not care for nutrition in general, much less alcohol, so you’ll rarely ever catch him drinking, but on the occasion you convince him to have a drink with you, he wouldn’t mind too much. It’s not as though he hates the taste. Though, a lot of it goes untouched because he tends to ramble on with his research and breakthroughs instead of drinking, so most of the time he ends up taking care of you.
Columbina gets even more clingy when drunk, if that’s even possible. While that aspect of her doesn’t change, she suddenly gains a lot more vigor. Normally she’s calm, eerily so, but it seems like the alcohol brings out a lot of laughing. The Fatui don’t know which side is scarier. She also has a very high tolerance and the recruits always watch in amazement as she downs bottle after bottle. She’s also the kind of girl who insists on refilling your drink. There’s not much you can really do than other go with her flow. 
She’s very upbeat and giggly when drunk. Tugs you to your feet and twirls you around, giddily humming and swaying around with you until she dramatically falls back so you could catch her in your arms. Columbina has so much energy when inebriated that you wonder how she does it. But, always be on guard with this girl. She will stop all of a sudden, and then fall asleep and literally crash on top of you. The first time she did that you nearly had a heart attack as both of you were now on the floor, her body completely sprawled out on top of you. And she did not budge one inch. So you were stuck there until the next day when you woke up in the afternoon with her now in another weird position. But hey, there are not much people who have the opportunity to see the third Harbinger like this.
Capitano doesn’t drink very often. He sees it as unnecessary and more of a distraction from his duties than anything else. Even on the rare occasion he drinks, it’s not much to look at. The liquid just disappears behind the ever-present darkness that his helmet brings. You can’t see any blush, any smiles, any hazy eyes, nope. He has a high tolerance for quite literally anything so seeing him drunk is a tall order. If by any chance he does get drunk, which seems really impossible, Capitano gets a bit more clingy. When sober, although he does give a good amount of affection, it’s still a bit of a struggle for him. Because really, him? Of all people? Being soft? It’s still surreal to him and he’s still adjusting. 
But on the rare occasion he’s tipsy, there’s a chance of him desiring such fondness, both giving and receiving. Normally, when sober, he gets a tad bit embarrassed and awkward when you shower him with love. But when he’s drunk, he’ll welcome it a lot more. Just silently though. He’ll always be a quiet man. He’ll return the favor with a strong embrace. He likes to hold you in his lap with an arm around your waist. For some reason, he likes to tilt the cup to your lips as if you can’t drink it yourself. He doesn’t really need to be taken care of, but it’s still cute nonetheless. Capitano prefers if you don’t bring up this experience. He’s honestly a bit mortified you saw him in such a disgraceful state. (You and Dottore definitely worked together to make this happen. There was no other way.) Then again, don’t get your hopes up too much. Your man is resistant to possibly every force in Teyvat.
Scaramouche doesn’t care much for alcohol. He is a puppet after all. The drink has no effects on him. And the taste doesn’t do much for him either, as he says it himself - he enjoys the taste of bitter tea far more. But, if you do manage to convince him, with all of his reluctance, he can’t deny that some sake and cherry blossom viewing is pretty nice. Although Inazuma brings up some distasteful memories for him, he can’t deny it’s beautiful. Kunikuzushi doesn’t talk about it, but he does have some warm memories regarding the drink. Sometimes, his family, his friends from all those years ago, would drink alcohol in celebration. The young puppet would watch in fascination and down all the bottles while his friends lay passed out in amazement. So really, despite all of his moaning and groaning, he won’t mind. 
Even though Scaramouche doesn’t actually get drunk, you like to think he does from the way he acts around you. You have a tendency to drink more than you can handle so that you could see Scara reveal his secret affectionate side. Whining and slurring your words results in a lot of grumbling and eye-rolling from your lover, scolding you for your recklessness. But no one would ever believe you as he begrudgingly guides you to his lap, confiscating the sake cup. Rearranges his legs so you’re comfortable. Strokes your hair and brushes it away from your face, drunk on you. But then of course pinches your cheeks, earning a squeal and a few curses from you. After becoming the Wanderer, the taste is unsettlingly comforting for him. Perhaps because it was one of the things that began to connect you with him. Even if you can’t remember him anymore, he still likes to go to that same spot to enjoy some sake and the view.
Sandrone isn’t very much of a drinker. It distracts her from her work, and she’d much rather enjoy some tea and sweets too. So, it is going to be a long and arduous wait to see Sandrone drink, much less get drunk. That is until you recruit some of your favorite robots to oh, just innocently put a few drops of alcohol in her cup instead of tea. Luckily enough, she sips it without a thought. After all, there was no reason to be suspicious. She programmed these robots to obey her. The only thing is that she programmed them to listen to you too.
Please stop her from working. She’s been trying to unscrew this bolt from a robot for the last ten minutes and she still hasn’t realized she’s using the wrong screwdriver. Some Automatons may need to be enlisted for help but just get her away from that and into a chair. Sandrone huffs and puffs with a blushing face about how she’ll get revenge on you later, but you can’t really take her words seriously when she’s leaning on your shoulder so cutely. Her coat is off and her porcelain arms are intertwined with yours, her way of “punishing you.” You strive to get her tipsy more often in the future. At least she actually takes breaks that way. You’re so glad Sandrone built a Kamera into some of her creations because damn, it was really useful right now.
La Signora is a chatty drunk. She has the tolerance of a normal person, getting drunk after a good amount of refills. Many times she drinks to relieve some stress, as you have to listen to her complain about all the useless recruits and how unreliable her subordinates are most of the time. She always tells the best stories when drunk, always going into depth about how stupid this person was and how this person did that. It’s best not to interrupt or console her yet. She just wants to vent her frustrations right now.
How to take care of her? Just be a good lover by keeping her glass filled, her lap warm, and her boredom away. With all of the fuss she makes, she ends up winding down by the end of it to thoroughly enjoy your presence. Rosalyne gets very comfy during these sessions - hair flowing free from its usual bun, mask and makeup off, a silky nightgown adorning her body. She is a very tall yet soft lady, so her lap is much more suitable for sitting than any old chair would be, she tells you. Signora likes to have a firm grip on you, her hands playing with your hair as she swishes around the alcohol, her legs entangled with yours so you could not leave. Her voice tipsy and a bit slurred she’ll ask you about your day, what’s been going on, how she misses her lovely butterfly dearly. Anyone besides you would be shocked to know how sweet Rosalyne is as a partner. Experiencing love and loss changes a person more than what they show. So really, taking care of her means letting her take care of you.
Pantalone is a flirty drunk who has no problem telling you exactly what he thinks, very unfiltered. He is quite a charmer when sober, but alcohol turns up the flattery a hundred times more. A lot of times, the two of you have drinks together late into the night, after he is finally done with his paperwork and whatnot. Usually, it’s paired with an exquisite dinner. Of course, he only purchases and drinks the most expensive and delicious kinds of wine of course. Whenever he buys a new brand, he always does the same thing though, which you gladly welcome. Pantalone makes you take the first few sips, asks you how it is, and then kisses you to try for himself. You always playfully scold him but you can never be mad at that devilishly sweet smile.
Pantalone actually likes to be pampered and taken care of when he’s drunk. Brush his hair out, help him bathe and slip into his robes, tuck him under the blanket with you. More specifically, he likes when you read to him. While he can handle his liquor well enough, when he gets overly drunk, he gets quiet. You never pry into what exactly he thinks about, but after being with him for so long you can gather that he’s remembering his childhood. So, although his weight may crush you a bit, just let him lay on your chest for a while, stroke his hair while you talk, and take his glasses off once he’s asleep.
Arlecchino is a lightweight drinker. No one has ever seen her drink and it is because of that. She would rather die than have anyone witness her being drunk. She has only a few weaknesses, the most out-of-place ones being you and alcohol. Normally you wouldn’t mind, but it gets to be a bit awkward when you’re drinking and she’s just there with her cold hard coffee. Even during a relationship with you, she’s still adamant about not drinking. Arlecchino is serious about not appearing vulnerable in front of you. She doesn’t want you to think about her any differently. 
She’s super observant too, so there’s not really going to be a chance of swapping her drunk. Perhaps if you beg and plead with her she could have just a cup with you. It is endearing to see her so unguarded and cute in front of you, but her lack of tolerance ends up cutting the quality time you have with her. There’s really not much you’re going to do when she’s drunk. Arlecchino tends to hiccup when drunk along with some intoxicated mumblings. Generally, she falls asleep rather quickly, so just cover her with a blanket and make sure no one enters her office. Otherwise, they’d have to die.
Childe is a happy drunk with a good amount of tolerance, so it’s a bit hard to see him actually get drunk, but it is certainly possible. He is instead the kind of person who tries to convince you to drink Fire-Water with him because he enjoys your drunk blabbering. He loves to bring up the things you said while drunk to embarrass you. While drunk he loves to chat and catch up with you, but he also tends to challenge you to drinking competitions (he has a competitive streak after all, always up for a contest) which usually ends up with you passed out and waking up the next morning to Ajax making breakfast (donning an apron if you’re lucky.) Though there have been times when you’ve been blessed to see a red-faced, drunk Ajax.
It would be funny if he was a fighty drunk. The kind of drunk who suddenly wants to spar with you out of nowhere. Wants to go to the Golden House with you but he can’t even make it halfway, literally about to make both of you fall from how much he’s clinging onto you. Though, it’s not too hard to take care of him, if you’re okay with a dozen smooches to your face and a lot of whining. He is incessant with his cuddling, arms tightly bound around you. It takes a lot of persuading to let him release you. What he would appreciate is a nice home-cooked meal at this point, especially if it's Snezhnayan. He’s the one who usually does all the cooking, so he’s actually really grateful when you make something for him. The only problem is that when he’s drunk, he wants you to feed him. After that, the only plan of action is to comply with his demands for cuddling in bed. Somehow, you still fall asleep after him because Childe refuses to slumber before you. Zhongli has dropped him at your house quite a few times so you’re used to the routine by now.
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joanquill · 7 months
Text
Caught making out
IM SO SORRY TO BE SO LATE!! ITS STILL A FEW HOURS BEFORE ITS 17TH FEB IN MY COUNTRY SO I HOPE YOU CAN SEE THIS REQUEST 😭😭🙏 How about Prompt 4 With William Moriarty Obv it'll be a romance 😭 And pls fluff no angst 😭🙏 IM REALLY SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE
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William James Moriarty
A/N: And this is the last for the Valentine's event, thank you, everyone! 🥰 Tag/s: Established Relationship Warning/s: Suggestive? Mention of Hickeys
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"Hmm..." you muttered, staring at the variety of Valentine's gifts on display, analyzing each one.
You sighed in defeat as you stepped back.
'It's no use... I can't think of a way to surprise Will...' you begrudgingly thought, remembering how all your old attempts to fluster your boyfriend failed.
Since you two started dating, William has never failed to tease you and make your face turn red, whether in private or with other people present.
You tried to do the same, but he was always ten steps ahead.
At this point, even just a little startled expression would be enough.
"If you keep staring like that, the chocolate's gonna melt," Bonde warned as he patted your head, making you turn to him.
"I'm sure Will-kun will like any gift you give him," he reassured with a teasing grin, making your face flush as you removed his hand from your head.
"The chocolate's for everyone," you reminded with an awkward cough, making Bonde roll his eyes.
"Right... That's why we're on our third department store for the day," Bonde added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders with a smirk.
"Haha... Yeah... Thanks again for coming with me,"
"Don't mention it! Besides, you promised me you'd buy me that new perfume, remember?" he reminded, walking up to one of the stalls with various colognes and perfumes.
"Yes, yes..." you chuckled, looking at the selection as Bonde started trying on some of the samples.
As you continued to look through the store for Bonde's perfume, an idea popped into your head.
'That could work...!' you thought as you rushed to Bonde.
"Hey, can you help me pick out a perfume?" you asked, catching him by surprise.
"Sure, but why? Are you buying one for Will-kun?" you shook your head in response,
"No, it's for me. I have an idea,"
'All right!' you smiled as you took out the perfume from the bag, testing its spray before the surprise.
"(Y/N)? The meeting is about to start," William called out as he walked into your shared bedroom, making you hide the perfume behind you as you turned to him.
"Okay! I'll be out in a minute," you innocently replied, making him raise a brow as he walked up to you, making you step back.
"What are you hiding?" he asked with a knowing smile, making you nervously laugh.
"It's just the perfume Bonde and I bought," you answered honestly, showing him the bottle.
"But the real thing smelled different from the samples we tried," you added, spraying some into the air.
"It smells off..."
Curious, William leaned into the spot you sprayed and smelled the perfume.
"I don't think-" you gently held his chin and kissed his lips, feeling your face flush.
William pulled away as he looked at you in surprise, making you step back and look at him for a reaction.
"Pfft," he quickly covered his mouth and turned away, making you furrow your brows.
"It didn't work!?" you asked in exasperation, making William chuckle.
"Well... I wouldn't say that, my love," he replied, showing his cheeks flushing pink.
"Ah-" you muttered, letting out a sigh.
"Fine... I'll take it as a win," you murmured with an exhausted smile, making William lightly laugh.
"All right, let's go to the meeting-" as you were about to leave the room, William grabbed your hand and pulled you to his chest.
"Will? We're gonna be late," you reminded, seeing a mischievous smile on his lips.
"We still have a few minutes to spare," he reassured, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed you, his free hand laying on the back of your head as he deepened the kiss.
"Did you truly think you could pull a stunt like that without consequences?" he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.
"Where are they?" Sebastian grumbled, looking around the meeting room for you and William.
"I wonder..." Bonde thought out loud, trying to piece together your plan for the perfume.
"Do you know why Mr. William and Mx. (Y/N) are late?" Fred asked innocently, making Bonde grin.
"I have an idea..." he replied, getting out of his seat and leaving.
"And where are you going?"
"To see if I'm right!" Bonde answered as he headed straight for your and William's bedroom, getting ready to kick the door open and announce to the whole manor that you two were late and see why.
BONUS:
"Now that we're all present..." William started the meeting casually as you sat in the very corner of the room.
Steam was practically coming out of you as you hid behind your scarf, hoping to hide the hickeys William happily gave you.
"Why the hell were you two late?" Sebastian whispered to you, making your hide further into the scarf.
"I don't want to talk about it..." you replied, hoping the curious eyes of everyone would leave you.
"So, I guess your plan worked?" Bonde asked with a grin, making you flush and lightly hit him.
"That was not my plan!" you corrected, making him laugh.
"What was?" Fred whispered, making you hide behind your hands in horror.
"Can we please focus on the meeting...?"
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